Tumgik
#I do hope that finally pushing it out of the way will clear my brain for whatever else is going on up here lol
torialefay · 1 day
Note
I love the way you write about Channie so here i come with a request!
Could you maybe write something, like a one shot idk, about how chan would propose to you?
I feel like it would be so perfect and im on my period so i really need a good romantic thing to cry on (maybe a bit smutty on the end cause…yk…👀👀👀)
🌊💍
Chris hid his hands behind his back as he realized they were a shaking mess. He was hoping you hadn't noticed... As if his voice hadn't been pitchy the entire night and he hadn't been acting totally bizzare for the past two weeks. To be honest, you weren't sure what was up with him, and you were slightly worried that it was because he'd regretted bringing you back home to Australia with him.
Considering the amazing (and very expensive) restaurant he'd just taken you to, you tried pushing those thoughts aside to just enjoy the relaxing evening with your boyfriend.
On the drive home, Chan had suggested taking a detour to have a walk on the beach.
"You're really pulling out all the stops tonight, aren't you baby?" you had teased, leaning in to peck him on the cheek as he kept his eyes on the road.
He'd let out a strained laugh followed up by suggesting a short drive to the first beach he'd taken you to when you'd come for your first visit. It was a place that had a lot of sentimental meaning to him as he used to come a lot with his family and friends.
You'd happily said yes, which led you to your current situation- trying to make small talk with your boyfriend who was a trembling, slightly sweaty mess.
"Babe, is everything okay?" you finally asked as your feet muddled through the water, one step at a time. The tides gently washed away each mark as you went.
"Of course... why?" he tried to cover up nonchalantly, but sounded more grand than he'd meant to.
"You just don't seem yourself... The past couple of weeks, you've seemed a bit... off," you looked away from him and out towards the sea, calming yourself a bit. "It's not because of me, is it? You're not regretting bringing me?"
"Oh god no, y/n, no," Chris said, scatter-brained now as he moved his body to stand right in front of you, forcing your eyes back on him. The crashing waves washed up against his legs, leaving the bottoms of his pants sopping wet.
"It's not that at all," he continued, reaching his hands for yours to hold you steady. "I just- jeez, I wanted to do this a different way," he nervously laughed at himself, looking off for a split second in his usual Channie embarrassment.
Your heart began to speed up at the sudden realization. Was he about to do what you thought he was about to do?
"But umm, here goes nothing," he bashfully smiled before clearing his throat and fixating his eyes back on you. "Y/n, every day I spend with you, I fall more and more in love." His ears turned the brightest shade of pink. "And I've known from the very moment I met you that you would be special, but I never realized-" his voice broke. You thought you could make out the tiniest glimmer of water in his eyes, which became more evident as his eyes and nose were slowly overcome with a slight red hue.
He shook his head slightly as if to shake it off while you felt tears start to well up in your own eyes. Your heart felt like it was swelling until it would bust.
"I never realized just how amazing life would be once you came into it. You truly make me a better man," his voice carried up, batting away tears. "And I, I just wanted you to know that I would move the heavens and earth for you. I am 100% certain that you are the love of my life," he sniffled, his eyes sparkling.
"Which is why-" he strained out, removing his hands from yours to reach into his pocket. He swiftly removed a small black box. "I have to ask you," he continued, slowly kneeling himself down onto one knee in front of you. The waves crashed behind him as they ran up along the shore, washing through his legs. His expression softened, admiring the way you looked in this moment with a single tear falling down your face.
"Y/full/name, will you make me the happiest man in the world and do me the honor of marrying me?"
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edited to add: i'm so sorry anon for the lack of smut (and missing your period 😭), but maybe a pt 2? if you'd like?
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sysig · 2 years
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Hhhh I somehow managed a week of posts over on VLH starting tomorrow
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sanatomis · 2 months
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⋆.ೃ࿔* ── 𝐃𝐈𝐘-𝐃𝐀𝐃!
it’s career day, and megumi has to bring his dad to school so he can tell the class about his job. the problem? he only has a 20-year-old sorcerer-guardian who has the brain capacity of a walnut.
content. canon divergence (suguru’s alive and studying to be a kindergarten teacher), possible ooc characters, female!reader.
notes. guys i’m a sucker for satoru who really, really tries and isn’t just a goofy man-child ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -。꒱ྀི১ also ! thank you all for your patience, it took me a while to finish this piece bc of uni, so i'm vv happy it's finally done <3
taglist. | masterlist.
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“I don’t have a dad.” 
As cruel as it may be, a part of Megumi hopes that the sentence makes his teacher greatly uncomfortable. Demanding for a father to attend a Career Day at school simply isn’t fair to children without one—or, well, to the child without one. It’s not his fault his father hauled ass and left, so why is she making this so difficult for him? 
“Oh,” she mumbles. It seems his arrow hit the target, as her eyebrows pull together in a frown and she shifts her weight between her feet. “Well, you, uh, have a male guardian, don’t you?”
Megumi grimaces. Instantly, he thinks back to last week. Satoru Gojo, self-proclaimed strongest, had hit his head on a kitchen cabinet. With a dramatic pout and an overexaggerated wobble to his lips, he clung to you for hours. Some affection will make it all better!
Of course, when Megumi criticised his skills surrounding his infinity technique—because, really, how couldn’t it block a simple cabinet—the sorcerer opted to ignore him. He suspects there was some foul play at hand. 
“Barely,” he mutters, as the memory resurfaces. 
His teacher lets out a startled hum. “I’m sorry?”
“Nothing,” Megumi says quickly. He watches as she starts typing on her computer, and the realisation that she’s probably currently taking a look at his file isn’t a particularly welcome one. “What about my other guardian? Can I bring her, instead?”
“This event is geared towards fathers,” she explains. It’s obvious she forgot her reading glasses today, Megumi thinks, as she needs to narrow her eyes to read the screen in front of her. “I have one Satoru Gojo noted down as your male guardian. Surely, he will be able to attend.” 
Megumi pauses. He blinks up at her expressionlessly, and fights off the urge to push his teacher down a well. You often preach about being kind to others, and that wouldn’t be very kind. 
“Can’t I take my oth—”
“I’m afraid not,” she interrupts him before he even gets the sentence out. It irks him. Megumi isn’t fond of speaking to begin with, so when he does, he’d prefer not to be cut off halfway through. “An exception will not be made. Please, make sure to bring Gojo-san to school.” 
Megumi briefly, and for the very first time ever, mourns the fact that you and Satoru weren’t married. A small part of him calls the man a coward for not asking you to. If he’d simply taken the step, then Megumi would be able to pass you off as Gojo-san. Unfortunately, he can’t, and it’s becoming increasingly clear that there’s no way around this problem. 
“Fine,” he grumbles. It takes all of his remaining willpower to not stomp out of the classroom. Once again, he thinks of you. It’d be extremely bad manners. He can’t find it in himself to wish his teacher a nice day this time, though, and so she’ll have to make due with a slightly less polite Megumi for today. 
There’s nothing he can do about it. Satoru will have to come to the school. 
Megumi suddenly despises the idea of Career Day. 
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“I need you to come to my school next week.” 
Immediately, all chatter around the dining table stops. For once, Megumi finds himself annoyed at the sudden appearance of silence. Before he said it, he knew his words would most likely have such an effect—he just didn’t expect it to be so instant. 
He tries his best to feign nonchalance, as if the topic that’s coming up didn’t make him feel stressed-out beyond belief. The confused, startled glances you and Satoru share don’t do much to help him, either. Perhaps it’s because Megumi is looking straight at him; him instead of you. Yeah, Satoru, he isn’t a fan of it, either. 
“Me?” The man asks then, and Megumi has to resist the urge to say, ‘no, I meant the snail in the backyard—yes, you,’ in the most sarcastic voice he can muster up. Satoru once again steals a look at you, ever so oblivious to Megumi's mental remarks. “Don’t you mean—” 
“I don’t,” Megumi cuts him off solemnly. His lips are pursed shut, and he pokes the slices of pork belly in his bowl with his chopsticks. One didn’t need to be of particularly high intelligence to notice the boy’s displeasure.  “I have to bring a male figure for Career Day.” 
It’s slow, the morphing of Satoru’s face, but it happens gradually and doesn’t stop until he’s positively beaming. Megumi doesn’t like it one bit. Nothing good happens when he looks like that, and he’s quite sure that all that will spew out of his mouth in a few seconds will be nothing except for pure nonsense. 
“Well, luckily, I will have the day off, then!” Satoru chimes, with a smile so wide it causes two dimples to appear on his cheeks. You copy his smile, and gently go to poke the little dent in his skin—Satoru lets you, as he always does. Megumi would think of it as cute if he weren’t so annoyed. “I will be there.” 
It seems he was right. Satoru’s words are pure nonsense.
“I didn’t tell you when,” he comments dryly. 
The sorcerer blinks. His smile is still on his face, but it’s fading, and the dimples do so with it. Your hand hovers halfway in the air, stuck with nothing to poke, and you slowly bring it back down to your side. It seems neither of you had taken time to think about that small fact—Megumi blames Satoru for dragging you down with him; him and those indentations in his cheek that you always seem to coo over. 
“Oh,” Satoru mumbles. A crease between his brows forms as his brain hurries to catch up with the newfound information. A few seconds pass, and then the previous bravado returns. “Well, it doesn’t matter! I can take the day off. When do you need me? Tell me, and I’ll be there.” 
Megumi very much doubts he can take days off all willy-nilly like that, especially after he pushed his workload onto someone else to attend his science fair last time, but then again, what does he know? If Satoru didn’t care about the consequences of his actions, then Megumi wasn’t about to break his own head doing so, either. 
“Next Friday,” he mumbles. From the tone of his voice, it’s quite clear that he’d rather be saying anything else. “We have to leave at eight a.m., please, be on time.”
“Sure thing!” Satoru chimes, and with that, Megumi thinks the dreaded conversation has finally come to an end. 
All in all—it could’ve gone worse. At least Satoru didn’t prolong it unnecessarily. Nor did he add a bunch of relentless teasing. He glances at the sorcerer. Satoru is happily munching on the dinner you’d prepared, both his cheeks stuffed full with entirely too much rice. It’s unbecoming, and a reflection of his poor manners, Megumi thinks, and he doesn’t understand how you look at the man with such hearts in your eyes. 
Though, your more than adequate cooking seems to have saved him from one of Satoru’s onslaughts. He’s grateful. Even if he doesn’t particularly enjoy the sight in front of him. 
“Hey, ‘toru?” You ask, breaking the silence with a slight hesitation to your voice. It nearly sounds nervous, and both Megumi and Tsumiki look up in alarm. Satoru hums, still chewing away. “What are you going to tell the class?”
Satoru stops eating. His chewing comes to a halt, and his chopsticks freeze in the air. A slice of pork drops from between them, and falls back into his bowl—It’s not hard to see the cogs turning in his head. “Uhm, I. . .” He swallows the food still in his mouth, and clears his throat. 
Right. It’s Career Day—but Satoru can’t tell a bunch of seven to eight-year-olds that he hunts and kills grimy, ugly, and freakishly scary curses for a living, now, can he? Megumi doesn’t think that would go over well with the other parents. The boy sighs. It’s just one thing after another. He grimly believes the world might just be out to get him. 
“I. . .Oh! I can tell them I’m a teacher,” his guardian scrambles for a solution, and Megumi can’t help but think it’s a little lack-lustre. Who would believe that guy is a teacher, anyway? Then again. . .Megumi doesn’t know a better fix for their current problem, either. He was so focused on the fact that it was Satoru that had to come to the school, he all but forgot about the fact that the dear thorn-in-his-side didn’t possess a normal job. “Suguru has told me a thing or two about his internship. I can take inspiration from there.”
Ah, yes. The famed Suguru Geto. Megumi has met him before. He hasn’t actually spoken to him, however. The man often visits, and has twin girls clinging to him when he does, and while Tsumiki seems to really like him—and them—Megumi doesn’t have an interest in seeking out some form of interaction, yet. Whenever he comes over, Megumi opts to hide in his room. Suguru never tries to disturb him, nor does he try to coax him into coming out. He’s very grateful for it. 
So, despite never speaking to him, Megumi knows about Suguru. Well, he knows enough. He knows Suguru went to school with the two of you, and he knows something really, very bad (nearly) happened that caused the man to take a step back from the world you all live in. What exactly happened (or what didn’t happen), Megumi doesn’t know for sure. You and Satoru almost never speak about it, and when you do, it’s in hushed voices—and you always stop immediately when he enters the room. 
But that’s okay. He doesn’t need to know. Suguru doesn’t force himself upon Megumi, and so he will extend him the same courtesy.  “I thought Geto-san wasn’t a teacher, yet?” Tsumiki speaks up from beside him, tilting her head to the side in confusion. “Mimi and Nana said he’s still learning. How can he be teaching, already?” 
“He’s not a teacher, yet, munchkin, well spotted,” Satoru answers with a proud grin. The nickname annoys Megumi—the feeling of irritation has been conditioned into his very being after Satoru chose it as the designated nickname for both of them. “An internship helps him build experience in the field. It means he is still learning, but he will do so while teaching.”
Tsumiki nods in understanding, her mouth opens and her lips curl into a small ‘ah’ as the information settles in. “So, you will pretend to be a teacher, then? At Megumi’s school?”
Satoru bites on his bottom lip, seemingly deep in thought. Seemingly—as Megumi is quite convinced he doesn’t ever think before he speaks. “I think so, yes,” he explains, and unknowingly retorates Megumi’s train of thoughts. How annoying. Satoru looks towards you for approval; it’s something he does very often. “It’s probably the safest route, no?”
“It’s our best option,” you say, and bring a thumb up to the corner of Satoru’s mouth. Gently, you wipe away a grain of rice stuck to his skin. It’s effortless, and nearly automated. Megumi wonders how many times you’ve had to do that. “Pretending to be a teacher shouldn’t be too difficult a task. Right, mochi?”
“Right,” Satoru echoes. His eyes track your every move, and the slight, pink colouring of his cheeks doesn’t seem to embarrass him even a little bit. Megumi thinks it should. Have some decorum. “I can do it, no problem.” 
“Alright then,” you say, and smile. First at Satoru, and then at Megumi. You look at the boy for a few seconds; you’re about to ask him if he’s okay with it. He knows you are, because you always do. “Is that okay for you, Megumi?” It’s like clockwork, almost. 
Megumi feels the need to answer with something snarky. Something akin to the sound of ‘What choice do I have?’ but he doesn’t—because you’re being kind, and you don’t deserve such a response. So, instead he turns towards Satoru.
“. . .Just don’t mess it up.” 
Satoru delivers a whole spiel about how ‘he’d never do that’ and that he’s ‘more than capable’ of telling a little white lie, but Megumi dilutes it to background noise rather quickly. He continues sputtering his nonsense when Megumi and Tsumiki stand up to clear the table, and still hasn’t stopped even when you and him start loading the dishwasher together—Megumi chooses to seek reprieve in his room while he’s distracted. 
It isn’t until many hours later, when Megumi leaves the sanctuary of his room to swipe a quick snack from the kitchen, that he first hears Satoru speak about something other than his great, and very much sufficient, ‘capabilities’. Your voices are muffled, and Megumi has to focus to make out your words. His soft, inaudible padding down the illuminated hallways comes to a halt. As if that would make his ears function better. 
“Are you sure you want to do this, Satoru?”
The boy frowns. With such gentleness in your voice, it’s hard to identify the worry lingering beneath the surface. Megumi moves a bit closer. He stops one step shy of bumping into the wooden surface, and peeks through the groove. The door is ajar—it’s something that allows him to watch how your eyes follow Satoru’s large frame as he paces around the room. It’s strange. Seeing him so. . .frazzled. 
Satoru nods. “I can do this, I know I can,” he says, and quits his pacing to look at you. Megumi can’t see his face, but he can see yours. He might as well not have, though, as he can’t make out the emotion that fills your eyes. It’s not one he himself has in his repertoire, that he knows for sure. “He never asks me for anything, princess. I have to do this right.” 
Ah, this isn’t a conversation Megumi is meant to hear. He should probably seize his eavesdropping, he thinks, and winces a little when he properly analyses Satoru’s words. They’re truthful. Megumi doesn’t go to him when he needs something. His first thought is to go to you—and his second, Tsumiki. And if he’s being honest anyway, his third thought very likely isn’t Satoru, either; He’d try to solve it on his own if it came down to it. Megumi frowns again. He doesn’t like how that realisation makes him feel. 
A careful shuffle of footsteps breaks him free from his thoughts. Megumi looks up, and catches how you place a hand on Satoru’s cheek. “I’m sure you’ll do great, baby,” you mumble. There’s a small, soft smile on your lips, one that quickly makes way for the peck Satoru places upon them. 
“Thank you,” Satoru whispers. One of his hands reaches for yours, and Megumi suddenly feels as if he’s intruding on something when the man brings them up to his lips to press a tender kiss to them. Okay, no, definitely intruding—ew. 
The boy scrunches his nose up in disgust, and hurriedly darts back towards his room. Suddenly, he has lost his appetite for a late-evening snack. Megumi lets out a deep sigh once he’s all tucked into his sheets again. Perhaps giving Satoru a shot wouldn’t be that big of a problem. Just one, though.
. . .Yeah, just one should be enough.
It’s the final, conclusive thought Megumi has before dozing off to sleep. Blissfully unaware of the conversation you and Satoru share—now behind a very closed door.
You stifle a giggle. The disappearance of Megumi’s presence outside your bedroom was quick and rampant as soon as Satoru started to kiss your hands. Something the sorcerer did very deliberately. It’s as if the boy suddenly forgot about the very special, very effective pair of eyes his guardian possesses. And with a cursed energy output such as Megumi’s, it would be hard not to recognise his presence.
“You did that on purpose,” you comment. “How cruel of you, mochi.”
Satoru hums, and kisses the inside of your wrist. “Maybe, the little brat shouldn’t eavesdrop, then,” he defends himself. There isn’t an inkling of guilt to be seen on his pretty face.
. . .Though, both of you still take some extra care to shut the door next time.
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Megumi faithfully believes that, as of today, he has used-up all of his luck for the next five, no, ten years. It can only go downhill from here. For some inexplicable, mind-boggling reason—Satoru is actually pulling this off. That’s not all; he’s not merely winging it, he’s genuinely doing well. The boy can’t quite believe his eyes.
When he’d walked to the front with such an overexaggerated pep in his step, and an overabundance of bravado rolling off of him in waves—Megumi couldn’t help but watch on with a grim look, and a healthy dose of negative thoughts. It only amplified the nerves he’d collected so far during the walk to school. Somehow, watching Satoru give your flashcards a frantic do-over did very little to ease his bubbling anxiety.
There were many of them, flashcards that is. All possible questions his peers or his teacher could ever think of are written on those little pieces of cardboard. Courtesy of you, and your boyfriend. Megumi’s able to recall all those nights the two of you spend at the kitchen table—practising. He thought it was silly at the time.
But, as it turns out, it works.
Satoru is fun. To other people; Megumi doesn’t share the sentiment. Against all odds, he’s dynamic, and speaks with conviction. His flamboyant hand gestures have others think of them as amusing—captivating, even. Satoru is talking, and they’re all hanging onto his every word. No matter the fact that they’re all cleverly disguised lies.
Megumi can’t wrap his head around it. He doesn’t need to, however. If anything, he’s relieved that his peers think of his guardian as cool. While he certainly does not share the opinion, he isn’t too dense to admit that such a belief will save him a lot of embarrassment in the future. So, for this one, single day, he will let Satoru Gojo be cool. His snarky comments can resume tomorrow.
“Ah, it seems you have a deep love for your profession, Gojo-san,” his teacher says. She interrupts Satoru’s rant, and catches his attention as well as Megumi’s. Her voice is light and airy, and carries nothing that should cause him to fear the worst. Still, the boy feels on edge. “Though, I don’t remember the grade you are teaching. Could you tell us, again?”
Ah, and there it goes. The very first card in the elaborately built castle of lies.
Satoru pauses. A second passes, and then two, and three, and so on. He doesn’t speak for a good thirty, and Megumi can nearly see his mind leaf through his beloved flashcards—flashcards that are now neatly tucked into his pockets and entirely out of reach. That’s good. Because the absolute last thing Satoru should do now, is resort back to the flashcards.
Megumi shakes his head no as a signal.
“Ah,” Satoru says. “I teach kindergarten.”
Satoru didn’t catch the hint. Megumi wishes the ground would swallow him up. It would have been the correct answer—it is the answer that’s written on the flashcards—if Satoru hadn’t decided to go off route. Getting too caught up in the story he’d been free-writing, and allowing himself to get carried away by the looks of awe is resulting in his downfall, which, consecutively, will end with Megumi’s downfall, as well.
“Huh? But! What about the science experiment that exploded?” One of the children in his class whines. “I didn’t get to do that in kindergarten!”
“And the backflip you taught your students!”
“What about the first prize in the talent show? I thought your students were famous!”
The little bit of colour that normally resides in Satoru’s face steadily disappears, and he clenches his fist at his side. Ah, it’s great to know he’s at least aware of his mistake. That won’t help either of them at the moment, though. Megumi’s eyebrows furrow, and a feeling of distress overtakes him. It shows on his face. He doesn’t exactly go through the trouble of trying to hide it—there are bigger problems right now.
How utterly humiliating to be caught lying.
Satoru’s eyes find him. They’re just as troubled as his own. It worsens his anxiety.
“Oh, uhm, you see. . .” Satoru stammers, and Megumi’s stomach churns when the children around them continue to ask more and more questions. The wince his guardian lets out does little to soothe him. Megumi sighs, and looks at the ground. “Ah, I see. It seems you guys saw right through me.”
Megumi slides down in his seat. Maybe, if he tried hard enough, the ground would absorb him. It’s currently looking like a preferable fate.
“. . .I’m actually a detective.”
Oh, Jesus Christ.
“And. . .And for a detective, it’s very important to listen to what people say, because they could be lying!”
It’s a sad, pathetic excuse for a save. Megumi briefly ponders the distance between his seat and the door. Perhaps he could make a run for it. The subway station is very close by—getting on and travelling to an entirely new city to start a new life doesn’t seem like such a bad option. He sighs. No, that’s not possible. You and Tsumiki would be very worried. What else is there to do, though?
“You all picked up on my lie, which tells me every single one of you could make a great detective in the future.”
Megumi thinks Satoru might have some underlying mental problems. Though, they can’t possibly be as severe as the problems his classmates have—for they all believe the nonsense he’s giving them. Bright eyes, filled with hope and admiration, stare up at the man at the front of the class; impressed hums and entertained smiles get passed between the parents standing at the edge of the room. And Satoru, well, he seems entirely too proud of the fact that he made a bunch of children think they’re destined for a career in law enforcement. But, be that as it may, it works.
The children stir up unrest—the good kind this time, the kind that vocalises their excitement—and all rush to ask the detective a question. But, before they can even open their mouths, Satoru claps his hands together. It seems he has decided enough is enough, and it’s one of those very rare moments where Megumi agrees with him. The boy needs this to be over already.
“Alright, that’s it for today,” Satoru says, and feigns disappointment. He pretends to be affected by the sad groans of the children—keyword being pretend, as to the trained eye it’s quite clear that he wishes to leave. “I’m not allowed to tell you more.”
Ah, see, now that’s a good card.
“Wait, but, what about. . .”
“Ah, sorry, that’s confidential. Detective stuff, y’know?”
Confidential. Megumi thinks that might just be his new favourite word. The lingering feeling of anxiety slowly starts to subside with every step Satoru takes towards the back of the room—to the back, and away from the spotlight. His eyes follow the man’s large frame, but Satoru never chooses to look at him in return. His line of sight is firmly focused on the floor. It confuses Megumi, but he chalks it up to a mere whim.
All things considered (and minus the near cardiac arrest he went through), today went pretty well, after all. Much to his surprise.
Perhaps Megumi doesn’t hate Career Day. A strong dislike is more like it.
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Megumi can’t count the times he wished for Satoru to be quiet. The exact number is much like the digits of Pi—huge, and absolutely never-ending. He can, however, count the times he didn’t wish for him to be quiet. As of today, that stands at a very solid one.
The birds around them chirp, and the bustle of other people is heard all around them—but they’re the only sounds gracing his ears. There is none of Satoru’s incessant chatter, nor is there even a glimmer of gloating about a job well-done. It’s eerily silent, and Megumi isn’t sure what to make of it. This isn’t quite how he imagined the walk home to go. Far from it, if he’s being honest.
“What’s up with you?”
It’s possibly the first time Megumi decides to break the silence, ever. The boy frowns, and fiddles with the straps of his backpack. There isn’t a middle-ground with Satoru, he has found out. Either he speaks entirely too much, or unnervingly little. There’s a tiny pebble in his path, and Megumi feels the need to kick it forward—so he does.
“I kind of messed up there, huh?”
The kick doesn’t have nearly enough force to it. Megumi watches as the little rock skips forward. Once, twice, and then it comes to a standstill again. “Yeah, kind of,” he agrees.
“I’m sorry,” Satoru rushes out. It’s said so fast, as if it physically pains him to say it. Perhaps it does. It’s sincere, however. There isn’t even a hint of a joke to be found. Something must be bothering him. “It didn’t go how I wanted it to go, and I don’t know why I went astray, and forgot about the cards. It—well, it was pretty stupid.”
Megumi doesn’t exactly feel the need to deny it.
“So, I get it, okay?” He continues, seeing the boy’s silence as an empty space for more conversation—more rambling. Since that’s what it is; rambles, plain and simple. Megumi doesn’t see the need for such a fuss. “I shouldn’t have strayed from the plan, and. . .”
“It’s fine.”
Satoru blinks at him. “What?”
“I said it’s fine,” Megumi repeats. Because it really is fine. Admittedly, it wasn’t smart of Satoru to all but discard your carefully planned presentation, but it ended well enough regardless. No harm, no foul. “Thank you for coming.”
That small, short sentence is enough to stop Satoru in his tracks. Megumi doesn’t, however. The man is very tall, he’s sure to catch up in a jiffy; he doesn’t need him to wait. There’s another small silence, though this one feels a lot more comfortable than the last. Satoru takes his time to process, and Megumi lets him.
“W—What?” The sorcerer stammers in shock. There is no need for Megumi to turn around and see—he can hear the smile curling onto his lips. “Did you just. . .”
“I won’t say it again,” Megumi grumbles definitively, and picks up his pace. The very tips of his ears heat up, and the apples of his cheeks turn red. The feeling of embarrassment. This wasn’t exactly how he’d envisioned it to appear when the day started.
Satoru attempts to run after him, to catch up. “Megumi!” He calls out, the very prominent, very familiar whiney lilt now back in his voice. Megumi didn’t miss it. “Wait for me, I didn’t hear you! Could you repeat that?”
“Yes, you did!” Megumi says, and throws him an annoyed glance from over his shoulder. He tightens his hold on the straps of his backpack. “Stop lying.”
“Nuh uh!”
“What are you? Six?”
Satoru’s toothy grin is infuriating. But—it’s familiar. And Megumi discovers he’s much more at ease when that grin is on display, than when the man in question is moping around. It’s a lot less alarming.
“And a half,” Satoru adds.
The scowl that’s on Megumi’s face appears almost instantly when he goes to ruffle his hair. For a man whose technique largely surrounds being untouchable, he has a surprising lack of awareness concerning this thing called personal space.
“Ugh,” Megumi groans, and pushes him off. It doesn’t work. Satoru gravitates towards him again—almost as if he’s a magnet. He doesn’t attempt to move a second time. In moments like these, it’s best to let Satoru get it all out of his system. “You’re so stupid.”
It’s true. He does think Satoru is stupid, but he can’t deny it—Satoru tried his very best today, and in the days prior. Which makes him one of the very small, barely existent group of people who have done so for him.
It seems one shot was enough, after all.
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barcaatthemoon · 24 days
Text
balancing act || barcelona x teen!reader ||
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you struggle to find balance between school and playing for barcelona, and your teammates try to help you.
you were on the verge of tearing your hair out as you stared at the notebook in front of you. it was one of the last games of the season, and you were at the front of the bus studying for your finals. your parents had been on your ass since your last test had come back with a 76. that was better than most of your class, but your parents didn't care.
they wanted you to have something to fall back on, insistent that football wouldn't be there forever. you didn't want to believe them, you couldn't. they wanted you to go away to university and put all of the football stuff behind you within the next few years. it was one thing to do it while you were young, but they didn't see it as a full fledged career.
you hated hearing them try to convince you to look into other options. your team was fully supportive of what you wanted to do. they saw the way that you worked hard, not just relying on your talent. there was no question that you'd be a staple of barcelona football for years to come, possibly even decades. there were already news outlets calling you the future alexia putellas.
"chica, it is so boring in the back of the bus without you," mapi whined. she dropped into the seat next to you suddenly. you usually hated it whenever mapi interrupted your work, but now, she was a welcome distraction. you weren't going to understand your math any more when all of the numbers blended together. "what the hell is that?"
"calculus," you answered plainly. mapi pulled a face as she pushed it away from you, nearly knocking it onto the floor. she put her arm around your shoulders and pulled you towards her. mapi wouldn't be playing today, but she was so excited to get to come along after having had to stay behind for the past couple of games. "what are you doing up here? i thought alexia banished you away from me."
"oh, keira and tana thought that you looked like you needed a break. nothing helps clear the mind better than some quality mapi time!" mapi exclaimed. she rattled off about a million games that the two of you could play for her allotted half hour with you, but all you wanted to do was take a little nap. fortunately for you, mapi had great shoulders to rest against.
it barely took any time for you to fall asleep with mapi. you had more studying to do, but mapi shooed alexia away when she came up to remind you. alexia had a tendency to push, and if it wasn't for mapi, you definitely would have broken down much sooner than you actually did. the pressure from everything had been building up for a while, and everybody was waiting for you to blow up.
the only person who didn't seem to notice was alexia. she kept pushing and pushing, despite the warning from everybody else about pressure. alexia thrived under pressure, and you were so much like her that she assumed you did too. she failed to notice the way that your shoulders had begun to sag as you tried to go through the everyday motions of living.
"hola nena," sandra greeted as she sat down next to you. it was one of her last practices. you were definitely one of the saddest to see her go. she had been a staple in your life long before you had joined barcelona. the woman had lived on your street for as long as you could remember, having quickly become a family friend.
"hola sandy." your finals hadn't gone the way that you were hoping they would, so you had to do a couple of the optional end of the year assignments to make it up. you had been working on the last one whenever she walked over.
"you know that is important to rest your brain as well as your body," sandra said. she placed her hand on your shoulder, squeezing gently to get you to look at her. you glanced up from your paper, and sandra felt her heart break a little at how exhausted you looked. "what are you working on?"
"it is my physics. and no, you're not allowed to help. after the disaster that was my study session with alexia and patri, none of the team is allowed to help," you told her. sandra laughed a little. she had heard all about that, alexia complaining that the school work these days was far too difficult for anybody to reasonably understand.
"don't worry, i wouldn't even know where to start if i did want to help you," sandra joked. "i just wanted to check on you. you've been working very hard, and i know that it can get tiring."
"i'm fine. it's what i have to do. i keep my grades up, i get to play. that's the deal." sandra frowned at the almost robotic way you repeated the words that your parents, alexia, and the coaches had been drilling into you. "i can't rely on football forever. one day, i'll have to do someting else, right?"
"what would you want to do if you couldn't play football?" sandra asked you. that wasn't a question that anybody had ever asked you. your parents were insistent that you'd have to have a good career after football to take care of your family, and alexia talked to you like football was always going to be all there was. nobody had ever stopped to ask what you wanted to do, so you never thought about it.
"well, i don't really know," you admitted.
"that's perfectly fine, you're young. just don't put too much thought into what everybody else wants for you," sandra reminded you. she pressed a kiss to the top of your head as she got up to leave you alone. you let her words echo around in your head. it was a good thing to remember, even if it would be hard to undo the years of people pleasing you had grown accustomed to.
barcelona was full of motherly figures. sometimes, you found it to be a bit overbearing, but most of them knew when to back off. they had all sort of been alternating trying to check on you. usually, you were mature enough to realize that there had to be a reason for them to be so overbearing, but with the added stress of everything, you hadn't.
marta was one of your favorites. the woman had immediately taken you under her wing whenever you came up from the academy. she was one of the players that you looked up to the most. she had played at barcelona since you could remember, truly a club legend. it was surreal sometimes knowing that she was cheering you on.
whenever you had sprinted off after blowing up at marta's girlfriend, caroline, you had been terrified. marta had every reason to be mad at you. hell, you were pretty mad at yourself for getting so mean with someone who truly just wanted to make sure that you were okay. you swore that you saw caroline's eyes begin to tear up as you raced away from everybody and everything as fast as you could.
"(y/n), what is going on with you?" marta was the last person that you expected to come after you. much to your surprise, marta wasn't outwardly angry with you. if anything, you just saw concern in her eyes as she stared down at you.
"i don't really know," you mumbled. it was true, you had no idea why you were feeling the way that you were. it was normal for teenagers to get a bit angsty and angry, but this felt out of control. no matter what you did or who you spent time with, your mood never seemed to improve. "nothing helps, it's like i can't relax."
"can i tell you what i think?" marta asked cautiously. you trusted her, and knew that she wouldn't say anything if you didn't want her to. there wasn't any harm in hearing her out, so you nodded your head for her to continue. "i think that you're exhausted. it's been pretty obvious to most of us for a while. we've all tried to tell you to slow down, but we can't make that decision for you. have you tried talking to your parents about how you feel?"
"my mom says that i should look into summer classes, but i have to test into them. she's worried that i won't make it in. my finals didn't look good, and she says that she wants what's best for me, but i don't know if i believe that anymore," you said. it felt nice to get it off of your chest.
"would it be okay if some of us talked to her? maybe alexia or irene can lead the charge if you think that it would help. none of us want to see you like this anymore. we miss our little chica, the little ball of happiness and energy." marta caressed your cheek, and you leaned into her hand. you were absolutely exhausted, and it was like a weight was lifted off of your chest for having finally spoken about your feelings.
"thank you, marta." her heart broke a little at how defeated you sounded. she hated that they had let things get this bad. "i should go apologize to caro, she looked upset."
"do not worry about that right now. most of the girls are in the gym. i think that mapi left a blanket in the locker room for you. please just take a nap and then we can all have a big talk later, vale?" marta asked hopefully. she breathed out a sigh of relief when you got up and walked to the locker room. around an hour and a half later, she found you fast asleep on the bench in front of caroline's locker. there was a note with your apology written out on it, as well as one to each of the girls that you had already snapped at that week.
"she's a good kid," alexia said as she glanced down at your body. it was blocking her seat in front of her own locker, but alexia was happy to move around you for the time being. she believed that you needed your rest more than she needed to sit.
"she really is," sandra agreed. "i think that i'm going to take her home for a little while. she can sleep at my house while we talk to her parents."
"will they listen?" irene asked. she had heard a lot of things about your parents, whether from sandra or you in passing that made her question whether or not they really had your best interests at heart.
"if they don't, ingrid and i will take her in," mapi promised. for a moment, there were a couple of skeptical looks thrown around, but alexia shut each of them down quickly. alexia could see the seriousness in mapi's eyes well enough to know that the woman meant it. you were like her little sister, and mapi just wanted to make sure that you were properly taken care of. she already felt like she had failed you for letting you get so stressed.
you let out a heavy sigh as you flopped back against your bed. it felt weird to think about. this was your bed in your room in your home. your parents' place had been your home once, but it didn't feel nearly as warm and safe as mapi and ingrid's apartment did. this was a place where your best interests were truly at heart, with your input included.
it was definitely sad leaving your parents behind, but they had been all too happy to sign you away. they didn't want to keep you around if you weren't going to listen to them. somehow, they had tried to turn this all around on you for failing them, but your teammates were quick to shut that down. alexia and the others hadn't even walked out before mapi and ingrid were pulling up to take you away.
"that was the last box chica. i was going to suggest that we take a break because ingrid is on her way back with pizza. do you want some time alone or would you like to watch some tv with me and alexia?" mapi asked you. a part of you wanted to sit and sulk about your parents letting you go, but the part of you that wanted to enjoy your new family won out. you shot off of your bed and followed mapi into the living room.
alexia was curled up with a blanket on the bigger couch in the living room. you and mapi seemed to have the same idea as you rushed over to either side of alexia. the two of you played a little game of tug of war that alexia helped you win. you cuddled up against alexia's side, nearly falling asleep before ingrid got back with pizza. it was definitely different than the environment that you were used to, but it was a heartily welcomed changed.
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mvybanks · 9 months
Text
Brother’s Best Friend
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request: rooster and you in a secret relationship and hangman is your older brother
a/n: first rooster fic who cheered?!? i hope you guys like this one bc i intend to keep writing for him and hangman and i guess i’m officially in the fandom now👀 let me know what you think! <3
pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Seresin!Reader
warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, 18+, smut, age gap, daddy kink, slight degradation (?), unprotected sex
word count: 2.4k (of pure filth)
nav
add yourself to my taglist <3
It’s not a secret that your brother’s colleagues flirt with you, jokingly, whenever you’re around. Jake seems to have made his peace with it, as long as he’s aware that no one would ever think to actually do something about it. It’s an unspoken rule: no one touches Hangman’s little sister. No questions asked. No exceptions.
However, what your brother doesn’t know can’t hurt him, right? After all, you tried to keep your distance the second you realized that your attraction runs deep, but Bradley sure as hell isn’t a man who backs down from a fight.
There’s always been a tension between you and him, one that you both attempted to push into the back of your minds, but failed miserably to do so. He knew he was a goner from the moment he laid eyes on you, and although it was wrong, he couldn’t stop thinking about you, in any scenario. He wasn’t going to let it go either until you admitted that you wanted him as much as he wanted you, until you let him take you out on a date and bring you back to his apartment, until you were a writhing mess underneath him, begging oh-so deliciously for him. At that point, how was either of you supposed to put an end to this?
That’s how you find yourself in your current situation. You’re sat on a bar stool, listening to Coyote talking your ear off about God knows what, while your secret boyfriend watches you from afar. Every time your eye catches his gaze still fixed on your figure, a particular glint of hunger swimming behind his dilated pupils, you squirm in your sit, hoping that no one notices the way you press your thighs together. Well, no one except him.
Licking his lips for what seems the umpteenth time, he brings his beer to his mouth, taking a long sip and never taking his eyes off of you in the process. It’s been too damn long since he’s had the chance to rip your clothes off and he doesn’t know how long he’s going to be able to keep himself from devouring you, even if it means doing it in front of all these people, including your brother. Never in a million years would he have thought to be in a relationship not only with his friend’s sister, but with a woman who’s fifteen years younger than him, and yet, here he is, stopping himself from rubbing his growing hard on as he stares at you.
Your hands smooth the bottom of your dress, trying to keep your composure as you send the man beside you a fake smile. It’s not that you don’t want to listen to him, but you’d much rather be in a completely different situation right now.
Finally, you notice Jake leaving the building with a girl under his arm and a smirk on his lips. You all but shake in anticipation when you mutter an apology to Coyote and begin to slowly walk towards the empty chair that’s waiting for you in front of Rooster.
“Lieutenant Bradshaw,” you purr as you take your sit, letting his eyes run up and down your body. It’s obvious that you know what you’re doing when you call him by his rank, smiling proudly at yourself at the clear effect that you’re having on him.
“Sweetheart,” he rasps in response.
You try not to focus on his lips, nor his mustache, and you surely try your hardest not to think about how the last time you were alone with him it was covered in your —
“So,” he interrupts your thoughts, a slight warmth creeping up your cheeks at the memory that your brain has decided to haunt you with, “How have you been?”
You both know that Jake has eyes and ears everywhere, which is why you make it seem like you’re just two friends catching up instead of two people who are too deep in a secret relationship.
Crossing one leg on top of the other, knowingly bringing his attention on the exposed flesh, “I’ve been good,” you reply, “You?”
He straightens up as he feels his pants getting tighter the more he looks at you. “Me, too. Could be better though.”
“And why’s that?”
He clicks his tongue, “I think you know why.” Slipping the unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt off his shoulders, he gives you a good view of his muscular arms, barely covered by the white t-shirt that seems to want to rip every time he moves. You swear your mouth waters at the sight, the only thought in your mind being the remembrance of those same arms wrapped around your neck from behind, choking you in the most panty-dropping way. If he’s not going to do anything, then it’s your turn to lure him to your apartment tonight, for there’s no way that you’re not ending this evening beneath Bradley Bradshaw.
You get up, causing a frown to appear on his features while you step around the table to stand behind him. Bending down, you place your hands on his shoulders, then you let them run down his arms, almost making a groan escape from his throat before you whisper in his ear, “If you want me to make it all better, you should come around mine tonight.” You press your mouth against his neck, smirking as you feel his pulse racing on your lips.
“Y/n —“
“Or I can find someone else to take care of me.” You taunt him, reaching your goal when you see his knuckles turn white around the cold beer in his grip.
“Behave.” He all but growls, succeeding in making you feel dizzy with arousal.
“Make me.” You breathe in his ear, and you’re lucky that he hasn’t bent you over the table and fucked you right here, right now.
“You better be there in ten.”
You hum. “Oh, and one more thing,” you seductively bite his earlobe, “I’m not wearing any underwear.”
With that, you begin to leave, moving your hips for you know he’s watching you with lust filled eyes now. You turn around, catching his gaze before you yell out, “See ya, Lieutenant.”
As you hear the sound of keys rattling, you thank your past self for telling Bradley where you keep your spare keys. You’re casually drinking water in your kitchen and standing in front of the counter when he bursts through the door, looking mad and hot. So goddamn hot, you think.
“Long time no see.” You joke as he shuts the door behind him.
“What the fuck was that?” The low and dangerous tone of his voice only makes you want him more and push his buttons.
“What was what?” You ask innocently.
In the blink of an eye, you find yourself trapped between his body and the kitchen counter behind you. “I think you like driving me crazy too much.”
“Oh no, Lieutenant,” you raise on your tiptoes in order to place your lips next to his ear, “I love it.”
And after a week of no physical contact, Bradley finally decides to grab your neck and claim your mouth with need. You both moan into the kiss as he easily takes control of your body by making you jump on the counter. His hands fly to your bare thighs and make their way under your dress, only to find out that you were telling the truth about the lack of underwear. Groaning against your lips, he pulls you impossibly closer and runs his palms up your waist. Your fingers find their home in his hair, pulling at the blonde strands.
Reluctantly pulling away, he quickly gets rid of your dress, throwing it somewhere across the room before his lips fall on your neck. Open-mouthed kisses are left on your skin as he makes way to your naked chest. His tongue licks your hard nipple once, slowly and torturously, then he wraps his mouth around it. You can only throw your head back and let out heavy breaths at the feeling of his experienced tongue. He doesn’t stop his attack on your breasts, even when you begin to whine and thrash in his hold.
“Fuck — I love these tits,” he mumbles before softly biting down on your nipple.
“Bradley, please.” You whimper. You can feel your arousal dripping on the surface below you and you only want him to do something — anything.
“You can beg better than that, sweetheart.” He smirks.
He kisses his way up your neck again, making you cry his name again, but it’s not enough. “Please, do something, please…daddy.”
“That’s my girl.” He growls.
In one swift motion, he throws your legs over his shoulders and pulls your wet pussy so close to his face that you can feel his breath fanning out as he asks, “What do you want daddy to do, sweetheart?”
Grabbing his hair, “Make me cum, please.” You plead.
How could he ever deny such a sweet request? His tongue delves between your folds, licking up a long stripe as you let out the most pornographic moan he’s ever heard. He starts to eat you out as if it were the last thing he’ll ever do and, by the way you mewl and whine for daddy, it might actually be, because you’re going to kill him. His mustache tickles your clit as he teases your puckered hole with the tip of his tongue. When his lips close around the swollen and slicked bundle of nerves, you instinctively push his head deeper, resulting in him moaning against you and gripping your thighs tightly. The vibrations are too much and you let out a cry of daddy that causes another throaty sound to come out of the man between your legs.
“Want your cock, daddy,” you manage to say between whines, “Please, I need your cock.”
He raises his head from between your thighs to look up at you, one hand still holding his hair and the other playing with your own breast, and if the sight alone didn’t make him cum in his pants like a teenager, nothing ever will.
“You want daddy’s cock, mh? Don’t you wanna cum all over my face?”
You shake your head, “No, I need you.”
Without even giving you the chance of understanding what is going on, he manhandles you until you’re bent over the counter and your ass is pressed against his covered member. He quickly takes his shirt off and sneaks an arm around your stomach, making you feel his muscled torso on your back. Your hand flies back to his head, holding his neck while you wiggle your backside, waiting for him to give you what you’re both craving so desperately.
With his free hand, he unbuckles his belt, the sound almost making you moan, and lets his pants and underwear fall on the ground as he talks lewd in your ear. “You want daddy to make you feel good, sweetheart? You couldn’t wait to cum on daddy’s cock, huh? Such a greedy little girl.”
As his cock catches with the tight ring of muscles, you throw your head on his shoulder, your eyes rolling back as he slowly bottoms out inside your seeping hole. You breathe in each other’s mouth, completely open while you enjoy the feeling of his cock resting inside the tight and warm walls of your pussy. His hands grab your breasts before he begins to thrust inside you, setting a slow and hard pace.
“‘S this what you wanted? Daddy deep inside you?” He grunts in your ear.
“So deep.” You moan and he chuckles at your fucked out expression.
God, he loves having you like this.
“You can take it, sweetheart. You’ve done it before.”
One of his hands sneaks up your neck, choking you just the way he knows you desire, and the other goes down to your pussy until the pads of his fingers find your clit, rubbing it quickly. The pace of his hips accelerates, the sound of skin slapping fills the room, along your babbling of daddy’s that only make him fuck you harder.
“Aw, are you cock-drunk f’me? Are you gonna cum all over me, baby? Gonna drench daddy’s cock, aren’t you?” He groans as he feels your walls contracting around him. “Are you gonna be a good girl f’me?” He pats your clit harshly and you gasp.
“Yes, daddy,” you mumble, “Wanna be your good girl.”
“Then, cum.” He orders.
And Bradley has always known your body better than you do because as soon as those words leave his lips, your pussy begins to spasm around his member, tightly gripping it while you come undone in his arms and with his name on your tongue. If it weren’t for his strong hold, you would’ve been in a puddle on the floor by now, but instead, he’s still sloppily thrusting in and out of your stretched hole, riding out your high.
“Daddy…” You whine breathlessly as you pull his head down by his neck.
“What d’you want, baby?”
“Want your cum.” You whimper, pushing down on his still hard member. “Please.”
He groans, picking up his pace once again, “Gonna be the death of me.”
His lips catch yours in a mind blowing kiss, moaning and grunting in your mouth as he releases inside of you, filling you up and making you gasp. Your muscles are sore and you’re sweating, however, you wish to stay like this until your legs give out. Bradley’s hands stroke your skin, humming against your neck as he peppers kisses on the delicate skin.
“I don’t think I’m ever gonna be able to take my hands off of you.” He murmurs and a sudden warmth licks down your spine at his words.
“And I don’t want you to.”
Grinning, he adds next, “Good, ‘cause I’m not done with you.”
After spending the rest of the night underneath the sheets of your bed, now smelling like your boyfriend, you rest your back on the comfortable mattress as he hovers above you. You smile up at him, making his heart skip a beat, and force him down for a kiss. As you wrap your legs around his waist and feel his hands grope your thighs, the sound of keys jangling catches both his and your attention.
“Yo, Y/n,” your brother calls from the entrance of your apartment, “Are you home?”
You and Bradley look at each other like two deers in headlights.
Shit.
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roanniom · 10 months
Note
King Steve flirting with inexperienced never been flirted with reader
Smartest
King!Steve Harrington x tutor!fem!reader
Read Part 2
Warnings: NSFW, 18+ ONLY, PIV/unprotected sex, teasing, coercion but consensual, King!Steve is a manipulative douchebag and is his own warning
“You’re really good at this stuff,” Steve says, watching for your reaction as you scribble math equations across the notebook paper. He can see embarrassment bloom across your features and he has to suppress the zing of triumph he feels. It’s so easy.
It makes him want to push it.
“It’s kinda hot.”
The pencil stops in its path and your eyes shoot up to his, brow raised.
“I’m not…that’s…you’re messing with me, Harrington,” you finally settle on in what you hope is a dismissive tone. Steve notes the way your hand writing becomes more shaky. He sucks on his teeth for a second before chuckling.
“I don’t know why you’re trying to be modest. Hot girl like you must be raking in the compliments.”
You shake your head but don’t look up from your work. Well…his work. The homework that you’re doing for him even though you were supposed to be tutoring him so he doesn’t fail algebra and miss out on basketball.
But his hand is suddenly on your knee.
“Look at you ignoring me. What, you tutor a football player that’s stealing all your attention? Nothing left for me?”
“I…I don’t tutor the football team,” you answer, dumb in spite of your high IQ. You look up and Steve’s grin is big, glad he could finally distract you. He’d gotten bored with the repetition of watching you do his homework. He’s got nothing else lined up today, might as well have some fun. It’s not like his parents are home and it’s a shame to waste a big empty house.
“Thought I was your favorite pupil,” Steve says in a mock whine, giving you puppy dog eyes that seem to short circuit your brain.
Bingo.
You can do his homework later.
“Y-you are,” you admit shyly. It makes Steve smile at you again and your heart bursts, the shriveled up crush you’ve been nursing for years finally being watered and rehydrated. You can hear your heart beat in your ears.
“Good. Because you’re my favorite hot tutor,” Steve says with a wink. You swallow visibly at that and Steve laughs. “You’re still acting like nobody’s ever called you hot before and I call bullshit.”
“No….nobody’s ever called me hot before,” you say in a small voice. Steve’s eyes widen for a second. He’d been pressing on that point, not really thinking too hard about whether or not it could be true. It was just mindless flirting. And pretty lazy flirting, to be honest.
He takes the space of a second to wonder if he feels bad about your clear inexperience and insecurity. Instead, he feels a dark, sour tinge of excitement. Your obvious interest is an opportunity. He doesn’t take any time to analyze whether he should be ashamed of that thought.
“Do you like it when I call you hot?” Steve asks. It’s not a question. Not really. Not when he knows the answer is yes. But he’s angling for something as his hand slides up from your knee to your thigh. You drop the pencil fully and give your attention completely to him.
“Y-yeah. I do.”
“Do you like it when I do…this?” Steve ask, lifting your arm and delivering a kiss to the inside crook of your elbow. You squirm but a smile starts forming on your face.
“Yeah.”
“And this?” Steve asks, moving up to kiss your bare shoulder, just beside the spaghetti strap of your sun dress.
“Uhuh.”
Steve moves to the edge of his seat so that his knee moves between your thighs under your skirt. You squeak a bit at the new proximity. One of Steve’s large hands grips your waist, pulling you to him so he can mouth at the side of your neck.
“What about this?”
The feeling of his lips on your skin lights you on fire and you find it hard to keep responding.
“Oh…” Your thighs try to close, a sudden twinge of need at their apex urging you to seek out friction. You end up squeezing your legs around his knee which has pushed between them. Steve pulls back and smirks.
"Oh," he teases. He slides his hand over the slope of your hip, to your stomach and down to your lower abdomen over the fabric of your skirt. Steve’s heavy lidded eyes find yours. “You seemed to really like that, huh?”
“I….I….” you stammer, unsure of what to do with your hands so you drop them to rest shakily on his forearms. Steve leans forward again, dropping his wet open mouth to the curve of your neck and sucking.
“Oh…fuck,” you whimper broke my. Steve chuckles against your spit-slicked skin.
“How am I supposed to learn from you if you’re going to set a bad example like that?” he asks wryly. You blink at him, watching as his hands move to the buttons at the neckline of your sun dress. Your chest rises and falls more rapidly as your breathing speeds up, both with arousal and anticipation.
Steve undoes the top button with deft fingers. Instead of shrinking away, you arch your back almost imperceptibly towards his hands. Steve definitely notices.
“Ohhhh,” he says teasingly. “Or does the tutor want to learn a thing or two from the student?” His voice is lilting and light, but his eyes are dark. You look away for a second before looking back at him. Eyes the tentative. Nod small. Steve nods back along with you. “Okay then. We’ll first of all, we have to have the right workspace, don’t we?”
When you nod, Steve surprises you by standing up and swiping all the books, papers, and writing utensils off the dining room table and onto the ground in one broad sweep of his arm.
“Steve!” you squeal out in surprise, slapping a hand over your mouth. You know his parents are out of town and the two of you are alone, but when he grabs you and manhandled you to sit on the table, you suppress the startled shriek that tries to come out. Steve pulls you to the edge of the table and bullies his way between your legs, your thighs bracketing his hips. Steve’s hands return to the buttons of your dress.
“Then we have to gather the right materials. See what we’re working with, right?” He pauses, looking at you for confirmation as if you have any idea what he’s saying. You nod mindlessly and Steve proceeds to rip open the last few buttons, exposing your bra clad breasts. He hums in satisfaction as you cringe in embarrassment over the exposure. But all embarrassment leaves you when his big hands close over your breasts, squeezing and groping appreciatively.
“Mmmm yeah. These’ll do,” Steve hums before leaning in and kissing over where they swell out of their cups from the squeeze of his strong hands. You gasp when he yanks the bra down to expose them fully. Steve’s brows life. “These tits’ll definitely do.”
Next thing you know, Steve is kissing and sucking his way from one breast to the other, leaving you a twitching mess in his arms. You feel a hardness press into your apex beneath the skirt of your dress and it occurs to you that he’s turned on just like you are. Which is a stupid thought since he’s literally sucking hickeys all over you right now, but your lust addled mind can still barely comprehend that this is happening right now.
When you begin rolling your hips into that hardness, Steve takes notice.
Pulling back, lips wet, he grins at you.
“Me playing with these tits not enough for you?” he asks, one hand still fondling your breast. Lucky for you, he doesn’t seem interested in a reply. Instead he flips your skirt up, showing the dark wet patch that’s bloomed in your panties and - more importantly - the erection clear in his tight jeans. “That’s alright. It’s not enough for me either.”
You blink slowly as you watch him grind his hard on against your clothed pussy. The friction catches on your clit and you gasp, unable to take your eyes off the outline of the shape pressing against you. Steve takes your hand and brings it down between your bodies, squeezing to make you grip his cock.
“Feel that? You did this to me,” he says, almost accusatory if not for the chuckle. A possessive thrill of pride runs down your spine and you squeeze at him, making him grunt in appreciation. Steve looks up at you from beneath his lashes in a faux display of boyishness. “Gonna help me out here?”
You nod feverishly.
“Yes…I…please–,” is all you manage to get out before Steve’s mouth is on you. The kiss is deep and possessive and aggressive and you feel absolutely devoured. His hands feel like they are everywhere at once, paradoxically, as he pulls at you and grips you and grabs you. So distracted see you by his mouth and tongue that you barely register a moment of cold air hitting between your legs before the warm slide of something hot and thick rubs against your opening.
“Now for the big lesson,” Steve says, the corner of his mouth curving lasciviously. The fat head of his cock teases at your clit, making you sink your nails into his arms. He’s big. Huge even. And that’s the last thought you have before he’s begin to slide himself inside you, splitting you open.
“Steve!” It comes out in a rush with all the air he punches out of you with the penetration. Steve kisses your neck and hums.
“That’s it, baby. That’s it.”
He bottoms out and there’s nothing but your ragged breaths to fill the silence for a moment before he’s pulling out, causing you to reel again.
“I know it’s big, baby, I know,” he coos. The taunting cockiness should put you off, but for some reason it heats you up even more. One his hands finds your clit and you let out a moan at the expert circles he begins to rub in.
Your walls relax with the stimulation, and your increasing wetness makes it easy for Steve to begin fucking you in earnest.
“Taking it so well, baby. Fuck.”
His words ring in your ears and it feels like everything begins and ends with Steve in your line of sight.
“Oh…oh…” you moan with each inward stroke. You’re rocketing towards a climax better than your most lavish fantasies.
Steve Harrington is fucking you. On his dining room table.
Your arms are around his neck, but eventually he pushes you down so your back is flat against the wooden surface. With his hands on your hips, Steve holds you steady so he can piston his hips at a break neck speed. Your entire body rocks against the table, Steve’s eyes focused on the bounce of your breasts with the force of each thrust.
“This is so much better than homework, fuck!” he groans out. You let out a breathless laugh at that and Steve looks down at you. “This is what you wanted, right? For me to fuck you all this time?”
The embarrassment surges up again but he hits a spot deep down inside that makes you whine instead. Steve takes it as confirmation.
“Bet you’ve been wet every time you’ve come over here. Just hoping I’d fuck this - fuck. This tight little pussy.”
“Yes. Yes, Steve.”
“Yes, Steve,” Steve mimics your pathetic, breathy confession. He’s close himself now, and his fingers are sure to leave bruises from the force of him squeezing you. “Next time I should just bend you over while you’re doing my work and fuck you. How’s that sound?”
You don’t say anything, too far gone at this point, and Steve laughs.
“Probably wouldn’t be able to keep doing my work with my cock in you. Makes you too brainless apparently.”
You’re practically drooling as you gaze up at him with hazy eyes, seconds from your orgasm. You being so out of it is what’s doing it most for Steve.
“Christ, look at you. Smartest girl in school and here you are, fucked stupid. It’s so. Fucking. Hot.”
And you - someone who until today had never been called hot ever - find yourself breaking into a million pieces with his words. Your orgasm crashes over you and you spasm around him, back arching off the table as you let out a massive cry.
~*~
Over time you are able to build up to a point where you don’t go as brainless. Eventually you’re able to kind of still do his homework as Steve fucks you.
But inevitably during every tutoring session there comes a point where Steve hits that place inside you just right, and his filthy words filter into your ear - and you go dumb.
Just the way he likes it.
~*~
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Hope you enjoyed! Please reblog and comment to let me know!
Read Part 2
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heizouz · 10 months
Note
begging for sub lyney + praise kink i'd do Anything
nsfw sub!lyney + gn!reader, praise, lots of praise, dumb lyney
this isn't my favourite piece but lyney is all i can think about recently so i just had to get this out as fast as possible. thank u SM for this req bc it's just made me think abt how much of a praise kink he'd have lorddd... n e way i hope this is okay!!.. <33
"you did so good today."
lyney thinks he will burst if one more compliment falls from your lips. you're close—too close. your hands are all over him, teasing the buttons of his shirt, tugging at his belt loops, tracing along the lines of his jaw. he's so flustered, worked up, adrenaline still flooding through his body from his previous performance.
his hat and shoulder cape have been discarded on the makeup desk behind him, your eagerness not giving him any time to take a breath as you'd hurried him into his dressing room and painted his face with needy kisses. lyney had laughed, pushing you away to cheekily ask if you'd enjoyed the performance that much; his cockiness soon fading once the praises started tumbling out between desperate kisses against his skin.
your thigh is between lyney's parted legs, his back against the makeup desk; hands fisting the material of your shirt at your shoulders as he grinds against your thigh. he's whimpering, soft and embarrassed—a complete switch to his usual confident on stage persona and you can't help but feel the wave of pride at the way lyney can't seem to look up, fixated on the way he moves so obediently for you.
"look at you." you sigh, head tilting as you watch him fall apart against your leg. your eyes are soft but dark, taking in the desperate cant of his hips and pretty gasps with every movement.
you're not even doing anything. lyney does all the work—working himself along your thigh, fingers curling into your shirt, eyebrows furrowed with concentration to make himself finish.
he'd been so stressed for his performance, so it'd been your plan all along to let it be known how well he did. the relief of finally getting his act done was clear as lyney was so accepting to relieve himself, to let you reward him for such a good show.
"just like that," you whisper. your hand tilts his head to finally look up at you, his eyes glassy and needy, "my pretty lyney."
lyney flushes at the praise, breath hitching, "st-stop, please." though his thrusts never seem to slow, hips only stuttering a little.
you take note of that, eyebrows raising when you flicker your gaze to his desperate grinding, "you want to stop?" you press your thigh harder against him, leaning impossibly closer across body, "but you're doing such a good job for me, darling."
"mh-hah-" lyney whines, loud, at the feeling of your thigh pressing hard against his cock straining against his shorts. he doesn't seem to realise how pitchy he's getting, brain fuzzy and too focused on you and your close body and the praises and his need to show you how even better he can be.
lyney can't think when you press your hand over his mouth to stifle his increasing moans. your chest presses against his and although he never seizes to slow the movement of his hips, your close proximity and the weight of your body pressing him hard against the makeup desk forces his eyes to roll back at the friction of your thigh against his cock. he can feel himself dripping against the material of his shorts, so incredibly close to breaking from just the press of your thigh alone. the thought would've flooded him with embarrassment if he could think properly.
you force him to keep eye contact, his eyes lidded and glossed over, the only thing separating you being your hand covering his mouth. your eyebrows furrow a little at the halt of his hips, "hm? don't stop, dove. you're being so perfect for me."
he feels so hot, his throat is closed up, unable to form a coherent word except the muffled whimpers and whines. his brain is muddled, the previous anxiety of a bad performance completely erased because now he's being good for you, he's so perfect, he's doing such a good job.
and to top it off, you lean in close when he starts to rock his hips at your command, whispering the words, "good boy." and lyney could cry.
lyney's eyes threaten to close, eyebrows scrunched and pretty breathy whimpers bleed past your hand over his mouth at the words, hips stuttering against your leg. purple irises gloss over with tears of pleasure, everything all too much and all you can do is smirk a little at how fucked out the usual suave and charming magician is.
"'m gonna-" lyney mumbles behind your hand, breath quickening and he pleads with his eyes, words stopping halfway to moan noisily.
"ah-ah!" you rip away his chance suddenly, hand dropping from his mouth and you back up slightly so you're no longer situated between his legs. lyney whines, bucking into the air at the loss of friction, eyes pooling with tears.
"n-no, please, please." lyney's desperate, voice broken and whiny.
"not yet, dove. 'need to get these off." you play with the belt loops of his shorts, tugging him a little closer. you smile wolfishly, going to pull the material down, "i need to reward you properly."
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tired-teacher-blog · 2 years
Note
Hello teach 🌺💙
Can I request First time having sex with Izuku, Shoto, Katsuki, Dabi and Tamaki ( separately 😂 ) but it's their real personality ( insecurities, shyness... )
I always read people making things far away from the real character and sometimes I'm like 😐
No pressure I know you're the best 🥰
This was such a cute request to work on, so I hope you enjoy my input sweetie ❤️
First time
Characters : Bakugo/ Izuku/ Shouto/ Dabi/ Tamaki/ Fem reader
Genre/ Warning : Established relationship/ Smut/ NSFW/ 18+/ Vaginal sex/ squirting (in Izuku's part)/ cock warming -kinda- (in Shouto's part)
Please do not read if you're a minor
Masterlist|Second Masterlist
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Bakugo :
He kissed you again, groaning against your lips as his fully erect cock grazed your thigh.
He has been waiting for so long to finally have you spread out underneath him, moaning his name as he pushes himself deep into your heat..
Sweat beads appeared upon his flushed chest and arms as he caged you between them, and his piercing eyes stared lustfully at your longing form.
You were anxious –extremely so– it was your first time together like that after all. However, you could sense a hint of nervousness in his usually smug demeanor as well, and you wondered if it was just a figment of your imagination.. until he spoke.
_ "Don't worry babe, I promise I'll be gentle."
You knew about that deeply hidden soft side of him, the one that makes your heart skip a beat everytime it shows, "I know you will Katsuki."
You gasped when he finally breached your fluttering entrance, digging your nails in his shoulders as he immediately started moving within you.
His sensual kisses distracted you from the inevitable discomfort of the first few thrusts, and those big warm hands caressing your thighs delicately, gave you the needed comfort to leave your anxieties behind.
_ "You feel so good around me babe, fuck, tell me how you're feeling." he groaned against your ear, sending shivers down your spine.
_ "It feels amazing! Yes, keep going.. just like that." you shamelessly begged as your brain turned into mush with every slow stroke of his veiny shaft against your longing walls, and his heart swelled with pride knowing that he was pleasuring you the way you deserved.
He leaned back, kneeling in front of you while his hands moved to grab your sides, and thumbs caressed your skin reassuringly as he kept a steady pace.
The new position drove you wild, was it because you were given a clearer view of his godly flexing muscles? Or was it that he was hitting a spot within you that had you seeing stars? Either way, you weren't going to last much longer.
_ "I'm close.. Katsuki.. I'm cumming." you announced, desperately clawing at his arms and squealing when he picked you up and cradled your butt cheeks so he could upthrust into you while you collapsed against his chest.
_ "Don't hold back babe, I'm close too." his growls filled your senses and his pulsating cock drove you over the edge soon after, your walls squeezing hard before creaming around his shaft.
Your fingers tugged on his hair weakly as your mind slowly cleared up, he pushed himself deeper into you a few more times before pulling out of your glistening cunt and releasing his pearly seeds all over the bedsheets.
It took you both a moment to recover, and you almost lost consciousness in his arms if not for that deep voice you loved so much, "are you feeling alright princess?"
_ "I am.. s' good.. love you s' much.." you mumbled quietly but he heard it all, smiling tenderly as he placed you gently on the bed and whispered a soft: "I love you too baby girl," before moving to run you both a relaxing bath.
Izuku :
_ "Is.. is this okay? Are you really sure.. about this?" he nervously asked as you finished removing the last article of clothing separating you from one another.
_ "Relax Izuku, you're too tense." you giggled softly before pecking his lips and straddling his waist.
You have been dating the pro hero for a few months, but your intimate times had never gone beyond the usual intense make out sessions, and his shy and reserved nature is mainly why.
_ "We've already got this far, I mean look how hard you are." you admired the huge cock you could barely wrap your fingers around, and wondered if it would actually fit inside you.
His only response was a strangled whimper and a tighter hold on your waist, and you chose to interpret that as an approval to carry on.
You steadied yourself on your knees, positioning your pussy right above his pulsating shaft and looking into his eyes one more time before lowering yourself oh-so-slowly.
Your legs trembled beneath you, almost losing control over your body if not for two strong arms holding you steady and helping you carry out your task, "I got you gorgeous."
Where did that come from? Where did his bashfulness go and when did he manage to take control?
You were no longer in charge of your movements, nor were you about to set the pace like you thought you would.
_ "Just relax, I'll do it." his big calloused hands moved to cup your bum, squeezing your flesh and lifting you up with ease before slamming you back down on his cock.
_ "Izuku! too deep!" your eyes widened and your nails sunk into his arms as you tried to regulate your breathing.
_ "Oh! I'm.. I'm so sorry sweetheart, did I hurt you?" he blinked innocently, fear evident in his voice as he froze for a moment.
_ "No, don't worry I was just.. surprised," amazing how that sweet side of him reappeared as soon as your well-being was called into question, and you couldn't help but smile as you thought of it, "let's keep going Izuku, I'm all yours to claim."
His blush deepened and his hold tightened on your buttocks, but his eyes held a determination that made your heart skip a beat. He lifted you up again, leaving only his tip inside, and you squeezed your eyes shut in anticipation of another brutal thrust that never came, because instead, he lowered you slowly, making sure you could feel him thoroughly, repeating the action again and again and again until your moans were the only thing that could be heard.
You wanted his lips on you, but you couldn't for the life of you formulate a single word, settling for a longing gaze that he -fortunately- understood.
He smiled sweetly pecking your forehead first and moving to your scrunched up nose next before grazing his lips against yours and capturing them in a heated kiss, all the while bouncing you on top of him.
It was intense, passionate, the way he moved inside of you mixed with his breathtaking kisses drove you wild, and you knew you wouldn't last much longer if he kept it up, and judging by how erratic and sloppy his movements became, you knew he was too close as well.
His lips left yours and spread wet pecks along your neck, moving further down until they reached your bouncy breasts, taking one teat into his mouth and sucking gently before moving to the other.
And that did it for you, "Izuku! I'm cumming I'm cumming!" your moans turned into cries as you tensed up around him, trembling uncontrollably before gushing all over his abdomen.
The stream of your juices kept flowing with each snap of his hips, and you were too lightheaded to feel embarrassment at that point.
_ "Amazing, look at this I'm drenched.. you're going to make me cum sweetheart." he growled as he bounced you a few more times on top of him until the waves of pleasure had passed and you finally relaxed in his hold, and that was when he pulled out of you, pumping his length and releasing his seeds on the messy bed sheets underneath you.
_ "I'm sorry Izuku, I made a mess.." you mumbled quietly against his shoulder as shame washed over you, your first time together and this happens?!
_ "What are you talking about beautiful? That was so sexy and to be honest.. I can't wait to make you do that again." he responded cheekily as a gentle chuckle escaped his throat.
Shouto :
_ "Is this okay? I won't move until you tell me love, so take all the time you need." he sounded strained, holding you from behind and resisting the urge to start moving his hips as you both laid on your sides.
_ "Yes, this is fine, I'm okay." you responded quietly, sheepishness taking over your being.
He had you stretched out around his shaft oh-so-perfectly, and you thanked the heavens you weren't facing him at that moment.
It was your first time with the pro hero after all, something you hesitantly suggested earlier in the evening and to which he enthusiastically agreed upon.
His warm breath tickled your nape and his big protective arms squeezed you between them, "is this position comfortable enough?" he truly wanted your first time with him to be enjoyable, he had been waiting for that moment to come for a long time.
_ "Yes, this feels good." you placed your hands over his arms and shifted your hips a bit in order to get more comfy, but the action drove him deeper into your pussy and he instantly growled as a response.
You wanted him to start moving already, your walls desperately clutching onto him and you knew it must have been as hard for him to settle as it was for you, but you were too embarrassed to ask.
His lips caressed your shoulders, and his hot breath fanned over your skin as he trailed soft feathery kisses on your quivering flesh.
His hand brushed against your tummy, gliding along your luscious curves and resting on your thigh.
You couldn't speak, your lip caught between your teeth to prevent the whines threatening to slip out, and decided to let your body take control instead as you rocked your hips against his, and hoped he would take the hint.
_ "Y/n, can I?" he breathed out between soft kisses and you nodded weakly, feeling the curve of his lips against your nape, and finally allowing his name to escape your throat when he started moving within you.
He was gentle the whole time, knowing how much courage it must've taken for you to be this intimate with him, and wanting you to enjoy it thoroughly because you deserve to be treated well.
_ "How are you feeling princess?" he barely managed to keep his voice stable, as your gummy walls hugged his cock tightly.
_ "I'm.. 'm feeling good.. so good.. Shouto keep going.."
Your confidence went up and so did your bravery, nails digging into his arms as he kept a steady pace.
_ "That's good to know gorgeous, damnit.. I'm going mad." he wrapped an arm around your thigh, lifting it up so he could fuck you even deeper, a move that drove you both wild.
His smooth head kissed your cervix repeatedly, and it would have been overwhelming if his movements weren't gentle.
His other hand slipped between your legs to fondle your sensitive clit, and you gasped knowing that you wouldn't last long after that, "Shouto! Wait wait! If you keep doing that.." you couldn't finish speaking as your words turned into whines.
_ "I know beautiful, I'm so close too, let's finish together." his thrusts quickened and his lips moved eagerly along your skin, sucking a perfect red mark right behind your ear.
You opened your mouth to announce your upcoming orgasm, but no meaningful words have left you, only a loud moan along with his name as you tensed up and spasmed uncontrollably in his arms.
He pulled out immediately, tapping his cock against your bum before spurting all over your back while his fingers still played with your clit until you finally settled.
He squeezed your shaky form tighter, breathing heavily and showering your soft skin with even softer kisses before moving you gently so you were finally facing him.
_ "Hi princess, how was it? Are you feeling any discomfort?" he whispered his query before running his thumb over your parted lips and kissing you deeply.
_ "It was perfect." you mumbled shyly as you averted your gaze, the night's activities playing again in your head.
_ "It was perfect for me as well, I love you y/n."
Dabi :
Your back hit the wall behind you, and before you could voice your protest, a pair of needy lips claimed yours.
It was your fault really, how else did you expect him to react after giving him the green light at long last?
Your shirt was torn to shreds, and so was your cute little skirt, and if you thought he would treat you gently just because this was your first time with him, then you've got another thing coming.
He's never been known to be a softy after all, and his way of manifesting his lust for you is enough proof.
_ "You look so fucking sexy," his lips latched onto your neck, sucking and nibbling on your warm skin while his fingers sneaked under the trim of your panties, "uh-oh, what do we have here? eager already are we?" his teasing continued and without a warning whatsoever, he slipped two fingers into your wet quivering cunt at once, pumping them slowly and watching with amazement as your pussy swallowed his digits greedily.
_ "Touya please.." you didn't need to word it clearly as he understood what you wanted, pulling his coated fingers out and smirking while admiring the sheen covering them.
_ "I got it doll, now hold on to me alright?" he cooed before picking you up and pushing your back against the wall again, wasting no time thrusting himself into your welcoming heat.
_ "Touya, not too fast please!" your whimpers filled his dark empty room, and as loud as you cried out, he chose to ignore your desperate request.
_ "You feel so fucking good y/n, why did we wait this long to do it?" he growled between each deep thrust delivered straight to your cervix.
His pace was unforgivably fast, hitting you right where you wanted and soon, you started slurring your pleas for him to keep going "just like that".
You looked dashing to him; heavy lust filled eyes, flushed skin, messy hair, desperate clutches on his shoulders, and his name falling from your parted lips seductively each time he was buried deep into your cunt.
He cursed under his breath, but it was mainly directed at his own regret for not taking you much sooner.
Honestly speaking, intimate relationships and sexual desires have never been among his interests or priorities until you came along, and voicing your consent was all he needed to hear after long weeks of imagining how it would be like to finally have you.
_ "The real thing is even better." he admitted with a smirk, leaning in to lick the string of saliva escaping your abused swollen lips before capturing them yet again in a passionate kiss.
It was intense, nothing like you've ever experienced before with any of your previous partners. His strength, his stamina, his familiarity with your needs, all of it was driving you nuts, "Touya, oh god! I'm cumming!" you broke the kiss to voice your announcement.
_ "Oh yeah? Go ahead then, let me see you lose control gorgeous." he was obviously nearing his own release as his thrusts became erratic, but he wanted to hold on a bit longer until you crumble in his hold.. and you finally did, spasming violently while struggling to form a coherent thought and almost passing out with an overwhelming pleasure.
He fucked you some more until he reached his own high, pulling out and shooting his sperm all over your belly, "we should do this again soon gorgeous." he requested heavily and you nodded weakly, smiling against the crook of his neck.
Little did you know, the 'soon' he referred to was only a few minutes away, and your first time together was just the beginning of a passionate night.
Tamaki :
_ "I.. I don't know.. this is embarrassing!" he covered his face with both hands as you lowered his boxers and revealed his rock hard cock.
_ "Well, seems to me like your body is more honest than your words." you giggled softly, taking his thick shaft in one hand while using the other one to fondle your own heat.
You lowered your head, eyes studying his trembling body as you took him in your mouth.
You hummed around his throbbing cock, eyes widening with surprise when you felt a grip on your hair, "you're.. so warm," he whined through a clenched jaw, unconsciously bucking his hips and hitting the back of your throat.
You moved back immediately, coughing as you tried to catch your breath, and seeing you in that state freaked him out.
_ "Oh God! Sweetheart I'm so sorry! Look at me, are you okay?" he bolted upright and came closer to you, caressing your cheeks and apologizing non stop.
In all honesty, you were perfectly fine, but he looked adorable blinking in fear and checking to see if you were alright, so you decided to play along for a bit.
_ "Maybe I'll feel better after you kiss me." it was a joke that you thought would lighten up the mood, but what he did next left you in state of disbelief, as he actually leaned in and kissed you deeply.
You had no time to react to his brutal force, and next thing you knew, you were laying on your back with him on top, still kissing you.
_ "Are you.. feeling better?" his innocence is baffling -always has been- and it's one of the things that made you fall deeply in love with him.
_ "I am," you giggled softly, cradling his cheeks and pulling him in for another kiss, moaning as the smooth head of his raging cock touched your glistening cunt for the very first time in your life.
You rolled your hips against him, craving for more, and he tensed up feeling your heat.
One of your hands traveled down to caress his shaft, "can I.. is it okay?" your self esteem slipped away little by little as you anticipated his response, wondering if he didn't want to go any further..
He must've sensed your struggles, because a shy smile appeared on his face before you could finally feel him breaching your longing entrance.
He hid his face in the crook of your neck, whines stiffled against your skin as he started moving hesitantly at first.
_ "Yes baby you're doing so good.." you cooed breathlessly as you wrapped your arms around him while gently caressing his spine.
Your little gesture helped settling his nerves, and soon, he picked up the pace as his thrusts deepened, but his face remained tucked in your neck.
You ran your fingers through his soft hair, pulling gently everytime he hit that tingly spot within you, " Tamaki, kiss me, please.." you wanted his lips on yours, you needed to feel him everywhere in your being, and all you had to do was ask once as he instantly connected your lips in a passionate kiss that took you off guard at first.
His thrusts quickened and you wondered if it was unintentional or if he was as close to climaxing as you were, but you assumed the latter judging by the twitch in his cock and the groans against your lips.
_ "Faster! Tamaki please don't hold back!" you tilted your head back and begged to be fucked harder, crying out his name when he did as you asked.
_ "Y/n, I think I'm gonna.." his lips were back on your neck, nibbling softly on your skin while rutting into you mercilessly.
_ "Me too honey! I'm cumming!" you wrapped your legs around his waist and dug your nails in his back as you finally reached your blissful high.
You trembled beneath him and he fucked you throughout your orgasm until he reached his own, pulling out last second and releasing his pearly seeds on your tummy before relaxing on top of your spent body.
You held him tighter, smiling satisfyingly and almost drifting off if not for a trail of soft kisses against your heaving chest, "I really.. I liked it.. so much.." he mumbled quietly and it was the cutest thing.
_ "Me too sweetheart," you whispered back and sighed in satisfaction as his arms sneaked around your waist and squeezed you between them.
@moumouton4
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halcyone-of-the-sea · 10 months
Note
Congrats on 5k! For the request thing— what about Price, doing some wedding/engagement ring shopping? He wants something special, and something perfect! I think some of the other boys would like to propose with a family ring, but he REALLY wants something nice for his lover, even if she'd be happy with something small and simple.
Give that man extra grey hairs trying to choose between tiny, miniscule details that only a trained jeweler would notice.
—The Perfect One
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⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ
╰┈➤ ❝ [He stares at the rings under the glass with an acute narrowness to his eyes. He inspects every one as if a bomb might go off at any second, not missing a single detail in the metal.] ❞
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The Captain’s lips thinned and once more the Jeweler’s face fell with an inward sigh of disappointment. 
“Next,” John places the ring back down to the glass counter, the rows and rows of engagement bands inside lit up by background lighting.
“Sir, it’s nearly closing time. I don’t think you’re going to find one today—” Blue eyes stare and don’t blink at the man behind the counter; with nearly three solid seconds of eye-to-eye contact. 
The Jeweler clears his throat. 
“L…Let me go check in the back.” John grunts and the man scurries out of sight after locking up the previous ring. 
They just weren’t right, the Captain admits as he sighs long and rubs a hand over his beard, scratching at his cheek. Some rings were too simple, others too gaudy or far too intricate—there had to be that perfect medium somewhere.
But hell, this was the last jeweler in the city. John scowls at himself; glaring down at the glass and at the hundreds of options inside; all having been taken out and inspected as if they were bombs out in the field. The epitome of no stone left unturned. No man left behind. 
No ring left behind. 
“Bloody fuckin’...” The Captain trails off, harshly grunting his anger. 
If you could see the blatant annoyance in John’s eyes, you’d laugh and take him by the face, kissing his chin before speaking about blood pressure. As if he wasn’t constantly one bullet away from getting his brains shot out of his skull. 
It was the thought that counted. 
The man closes his small eyes and tilts his head to the side, fingers tapping the counter once. 
He just…he wanted it to be everything you would want. All he needed was a plain band, truth be told, but for you, he wanted that ring to show everything that you’d been through together. The good and the bad—past and future. An even mix of love and devotion swathed around your finger to join you both in a promise you’d already been keeping for years. 
And none of these blasted bits of metal and stone were good enough.
“If I’d of known it’d be this much trouble,” John grumbles, looking outside at the steadily darkening sky. “I would have just made my own, yeah?” 
But it was too late to change career paths, God forbid. 
Yet the man really wonders if it’s the ring that’s bothering him or the fact that he’s nervous to finally bend a knee. He knows he shouldn’t be, rationally there’s little chance you’d refuse—this wasn’t exactly a new relationship by any means. You’d both taken your time with things over the course of years. 
This was just a matter of when and not if. 
Still, the sink in his gut didn’t let up. 
“Here,” the Jeweler returns and John snaps back to the shop, moving away his clenched hands from the counter to fold them over his chest as the man brings over a small jewelry box made of reddish wood. “This is it—after you go through that,” he splays his hands in defeat and sends a painful glance John’s way. “You’ve fully gone through my entire stock. Had to dig through all of my displays to find it.”
“What’s wrong with them?” The Captain asks in curiosity, his deep accent pushing through as he grabs and opens the box with two hands—firm and not really hoping for much.
“Nothing!” The Jeweler exclaims, mildly offended. “They’re old pieces—antiques. They don’t match the rest of the designs I have out.” He blinks, thinking hard before he puffs out, saying, “They’ll cost you extra!”
John slides an unimpressed glance upward and frowns, but the rings in the box do more than he expected them to.
He blinks, slightly taken aback. 
There were only two in there, swathed by their precious sides in deep navy blue silk to hold them up. The glint of gold and platinum makes John’s breath still as the Jeweler begins talking about the ring that the Captain then takes out carefully.
“Circa 1940, the mixture of gold and platinum makes a unique and yet beautiful mix of class and antiquity with this piece. I would call it Victorian in style, judging by the detail around the raw gemstone—diamond, by the way. The ring is both simple but utterly striking when you look at the finer details, Sir.”
John ignores him, large fingers delicately bringing the object closer to his eye and moving it this way and that. He even goes far enough as to place it on the counter and take a step back to gaze at it from a distance, his eyes narrowed and wrinkles pulled in.
It was stunning. But, above all…it reminded John of you. 
The Captain’s lips twitch for a moment, his tension slowly dripping out of him like water. 
It made him huff a chuckle, but the Jeweler had been right about this one—the ring was simple, but the deeper intricacies of carved metal built it up to a point of elegance. A reverence and dedication to the craft. 
Dedication.
John slowly hums to himself, going back and picking the ring up another time. It sits in his palm, such a little thing, but, oh, so heavy. It wasn’t a shackling weight, no—it was the deep press of purpose. 
John closes his hand. 
“How much?”
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etherealinowrites · 3 months
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HELLO THAT PERV PROF MINHO THING WAS SO GOOD PLS CAN WE GET MORE ?!
i’m so sorry for taking so long again, but here you go <3
perv professor leeknow x female reader
smut. filthy smut. dirty talk, use of pet names and nicknames: princess, kitten, baby, angel, slut, whore etc, erotic humiliation, dacryphilia, degradation, man handling, unprotected sex, sex in a public place (minho’s office), swearing, cream pie (i really hope i got everything 🫣)
—————
professor minho who cannot help but assign low marks to you all because he wants to have you in his office, begging for an increase in the grades.
professor minho who would do anything in his power to catch faults in whatever you do so he could easily provide you with detention and force you to stay back after hours, when its just you and him on the entire floor while the sun sets.
"but- but sir you wanted a comparative analysis for the final theories-" you stuttered, going red in the face as he gives you another shrug. "and its still not a comparative analysis i want to grade miss y/n" he sighed, putting on the most defeated look ever to make himself seem helpless.
"i cannot help it, if i submit this ahead the HOD will call it out herself and you'll be fucked over twice." he would lie, oh please, he had connections that ran way over the position of the HOD but he was not going to ruin it by telling you.
"i am so sorry doll" he would coo, walking over to where you sat in front of himat his desk. his hand would come up to your shoulder, he would stand behind you and squeeze it, offering comfort. "if only you had a way to convince me to pull better strings for you." he sighed, hands now massaging your tense shoulders, this view giving him a clear view down your bra, and boy did his eyes stared at your full breasts.
“isn’t there a way though? there must be something i can do for you right sir?” you would whine, making his cock twitch at the sheer innocence in your tone.
“well, there’s definitely ways of convincing me. you know very well don’t you angel?” he would mumble in your ear, hands on your shoulder as he leaned down to smell you better.
the next thing you know he’s got you on his lap, your legs being spread open on top of his thick thighs with his warm hands. “look at that, isn’t this so nice?” he would coo, pulling your skirt up till it was bunched at your waist. “such a pretty angel for me” he mumbled, leaving wet kisses down your neck.
“s-sir, i don’t know if this is the best way-.” you would try to say, but your words die down as his hands began to grope your breast, turning your words into a moan instead.
“shh princess, sir knows best yeah? just turn that dumb little brain off and let me think for you” he grunted, pushing his fingers inside your sloppy cunt, eliciting a loud cry from you.
the next thing you know is him holding your hair tightly as your back arches, your hand holding the edge of his table while he’s fucking you from behind. “my perfect little slut, oh don’t worry at all now baby, you know how to pass all your exams now don’t you?” he would pant in your ear, making your toes curl from the intense pleasure shooting through you.
“that’s another A+ for you doll” he would mumble breathless, patting your ass as he would cum inside you yet again, maybe fifth time that week.
—-
🏷️ ✨permanent taglist- @dreamescapeswriting @cocainee-queen @lix-ables @eastleighsblog @mwitsmejk @charliesfanficlibrary @downbadfor2dmen @bluechans @janvibutbetter @bearseungmin @mal-lunar-28 8 @endzii23 3 @cypher-net @djeniryuu @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @sheraall @manuosorioh @linos-kitten
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Hi, could i request Alastor x reader where one of them does something nice/gives something to the other not realizing that in their culture it's equivalent of courting/proposing? And since the other is in love with them, they don't mention the connotations and it takes someone else to point it out for them to realize? :)
Going to be honest, I wasn't sure how to write this one, since I'm white and to my knowledge Alastor's a Creole man from 1930s, so I wasn't sure what from either of those cultures could be mistaken for a proposal. After doing some research I'm going to tweak this ask a bit, simply because I am not entirely comfortable representing other cultures that I am not a part of and only have a few hours worth of google research knowledge of. I'm sorry if that's not what you wanted. If you or anyone has more specific traditions to use as examples, I'd be happy to try and expand on the idea.
(Or reinterpret this as like, flower language, gift giving symbolism by pagan standards, or crow language. Which not gonna liez my ADHD ass really wants to write a crow sinner giving them weird random stuff they find that they think the others would like.)
Anyway, I'm going to do things you'd do for each other that make you both wanna get married. Hope that's ok!
Alastor
It's not so much a single thing you do, but more like there is a single moment where he realizes he wants to marry you. And to be clear, his idea of marriage is going to be based off of what he grew up with and his own personal level of comfort with romance and intimacy (remember folks, aromantics have a spectrum as well and can get married and have perfectly happy, functional, healthy relationships and marriages).
It's probably not even a big grand gesture or anything. It's more likely something domestic and really sweet. Like it's post the finale fight with Adam, and he already knows he's getting attached because he let you help him get patched up. He lets you in his room, his space, and being touched by you is as easy and comfortable as it is with Rosie and Niffty, who have pretty much a free pass whenever.
Yet you're still always so respectful of his boundaries, of giving him subtle ways to avoid or redirect your touch if he's not feeling up to it. You never push, chosing to take what levels of affection he's willing to express but always letting him know you love him, and this last small thing is the thing that makes it click in his brain.
You bring him his coat, newly patched, cleaned of any trace of blood. The stitching is a little sloppy, crooked, and the fabric isn't lined up as well as it used to be, but you tried. He can see the effort and knows you spent hours holed up in your room after patching him up.
"I know it's not perfect, but it'll hold until you feel well enough to visit your tailor again." You say timidly, as if you expected rejection or critique. And while criticism wouldn't be unwarranted, he's just too emotional to say anything. His smile is gentle, a little wobbly, and he reaches out and brushes the coat aside to grab hold of you and pull you into a hug.
You're just so sweet and considerate, you understand him. He's not going to change, he doesn't want redemption, he thrives off the bloodshed and chaos of hell, but at the same time he's still just a man. And he wants you to be by his side for eternity, if he you want that too. He's never thought of marriage before but now...now he can't stop. He wants to have that with you. Domestic life, something to come home to.
He won't say anything right away, he wants his proposal to be perfect. He's going to have Rosie help him plan this every step of the way, but regardless, one day, you will be his partner.
As for what your moment with Alastor is, I think it entirely depends on what you value most in a partner. However, a general consensus I've seen in most of the fanfics and tumblr posts is the idea of Alastor showing us a softer side.
Not just showing us that he's more than a serial killer and cannibal with his own sense of morality. More than just feeling comfortable enough to let us initiate touch, hut genuinely letting us see past the Radio Demon persona.
Maybe it's by cooking for us and talking about how he learned the recipe from his Mama, which leads into him slowly opening up about her, how much he adored her. What she meant to him.
Maybe it's him and you at the bar in the hotel or in his room, sipping drinks, his jacket off, sleeves rolles up. Letting himself be casual and in a compromised state around you. Maybe he'll even take your hand and spin you across the dance floor like he used to with Mimzy. He doesn't even care if you're not that good, he can teach you, practice makes perfect, he just has fun with you.
Maybe it's a moment where he let's you touch him. Or seeks you out for help because he knows you won't say anything. Or if he humors you and flirts back when you tease him. Or let's say he has a tail and he doesn't snap your head off for accidentally touching it as you go by. Or he agrees to watch a movie with you or listen to a podcast despite how he feels about technology.
Maybe it's just a quiet night, sitting next to each other, each reading a book, his radio playing softly for background noise, and you look up to him to ask a question or say something and he's already watching you, a small, adoring smile on his face.
Take your pick of which one is the moment where your heart stops, your breath catches, and you realize that you wanna marry this man.
And then your delulu ass wakes up, lol.
Decide for yourself if you'd go through with a proposal or if you just accept how things are.
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queer-n-here · 12 days
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I JUST SAW YOUR POST ABOUT WANTING TO BRANCH OUT TO DIFFERENT FANDOMS
AND THAT YOURE OK WITH MHA
BAKUGOU X READER PLS PLS PLS
Like brat Bakugou x brat tamer reader, breaking down his rudeness until he’s begging for it. PLS I wanna fuck him till he cries pls
(Sorry for the hornyposting oops k bye)
Yes yes yes yes yes yes yesssssss!!!
Fuck yeahhh brat taming Bakugo let's go!
(This was my initial reaction to recieving this req, no shit)
Contents: Lil headcannons bout taming Baku! Hope you like em!
Warnings: Smut, top male reader, edging, mentions of overstim near the end.
Bakugo, his ENTIRE character, screams 'I'm a little brat' like nothing else.
So I can see him being rude to you, too, mocking and joking around about some of your habits to piss you off. What that dumbass doesn't think of, however, is the consequences of his actions.
You grab Bakugo by the wrists and pin him to the bed you two were sitting at, press your knee between his legs and push them apart, holding him down despite his struggles.
"Look at you, all riled up just from some jeering." He says, smirking and completely oblivious of his fate. "What is it, haven't taken you- mmf!"
You cut him off with a kiss first, letting go of his wrists momentarily to rip his clothes off of his body.
Bakugo wouldn't admit it if you put a gun to his temple, but he loves being manhandled like this. You're stronger than him, which is something he tried to be in denial about earlier, but not anymore.
So when you enter his asshole without preparing him, he gives up the struggle and scrambles to find purchase to ground himself.
You fuck into him, making his hips buck up into yours. You hold him down, and began thrusting into him at a pace so slow it has him losing his mind.
You're hitting all the right spots, and the stimulation is making his back arch and eyes water, but its not nearly enough. Bakugo tries clenching around you, trying to rile you up to get you to fuck him senseless the way you sometimes do, but you just hiss and tighten your hold on him, pace slower than ever.
And it doesn't take long for him to lose his composure and fall apart in your hands. He's reduced into a needy mess soon, chest jolting as his breath hitches, hands grabbing at your shoulders so tight you feel his blunt nails dig into your skin.
"More, ah! [Name] faster!" Is the only string of comprehensible words that he can utter soon.
"Oh?" You grit your teeth against the sparks of pleasure each thrust is sending up your cock. "You wanna get fucked, hmm? Then why weren't you acting like it just now, Baku?"
And he just whines, feeling your tip barely brush against sweet spot this time, the denial of that pleasure he knew you could give him so intense it made him see black spots in his vision that he had to blink to clear.
So he begs, he begs like the whore he is in bed, like the cock-addicted little slut you've made him, who wants nothing more than to have you rearrange his insides to the shape of your cock.
You take pity on him, like c'mon, you can't keep edging him forever when your own cock is pulsing with want, right?
So you bend him in half and plunge into him, your pace like that of a wild fucking animal as you thrust into him, finally giving Bakugo what he wants.
Bakugo lays there, his brain slowly turning into mush as you finally, finally fuck him, his moans loud even over the sound of skin slapping against skin with each of your thrusts, sweat soaked hair sticking to his forehead.
I mean, the night is still young tho. Maybe you can overstimulate him next, rip orgasm after orgasm from him till his entire frame his shaking, till his dick is shooting blanks, till he passes out on the bed under you from exhaustion, leaving you to clean up the mess on the bed. Who knows? 😉
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seventeenytiny · 1 month
Text
Attention (Male Reader)
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Smut MDNI
Chan gets stuck in a work call, but you have an idea of how to get his attention back on you. Word Count: 1081 Warnings: Smut, Oral (male receiving), slight pet play? (I'm probably missing a warning I'm sorry) Author's Note: This is just a copy of a fic I originally posted but edited it to focus on a male reader. I realized this one would be pretty easy to make for a male reader so why not do it? Hope ya'll like it :) Female version: Here
Chan snuggled beside you on the couch, relieved to finally spend time with you after an exhausting workday. Long workdays have led to both of you longing for each other's touch; all you want to do is be held. The gentle pitter-patter of rain outside added to your coziness. Smiling to yourself as you hold onto him, you take in the sweet scent of his cologne. You were enjoying yourself so very much. That was until you heard the awful sound of his phone ringing. Chan sighs, pulling away from you. "I'm so sorry, angel. I have to take this call. I'll try to be fast."
You pout to yourself as he leaves, wondering how long that phone call could last. You lean back into the couch, pulling out your phone. Quickly becoming bored with it, you cycle through the same three apps repeatedly. Your attention shifts from your phone to Chan, who paces back and forth through your apartment. The gray sweatpants he's wearing look a little too good. That's when you get the sinfully brilliant idea of how to get Chan's attention back on you.
Content with your plan, you hop off the couch and make your way toward Chan. Placing your hands on his waist, you interrupt his pacing. His face twists in confusion, but he quickly shakes it off and returns to his conversation. You give him a peck on the cheek before sliding down to your knees in front of him, your hands staying right on his hips, fingers playing with his waistband.
Chan almost chokes mid-conversation, but he catches himself and returns to whatever he was talking about. He glares down at you, his eyes dark and warning, but showing no signs of telling you to stop. You know you'll be punished later for what you're about to do, but perhaps the benefits outweigh the risks. You smile innocently at him before continuing with your plan.
He's hard already, the bulge in his sweatpants tells you all you need to know. You have this man trained for you; every time he sees you on your knees, his body reacts before his brain. You rub his hard-on through his pants, your mouth already starting to water from the anticipation. The dark spot of precum begins to show through his sweatpants, you rub him one more time before pulling his pants down. To your surprise, Chan had decided to forgo underwear, his cock springing up in your face, tip red and leaking.
You take his member in your hand, giving it a couple slow pumps. Chan's free hand takes hold of your hair, gripping it harder as you tease him. You kiss his tip and then trail down his shaft, not wanting to indulge him just yet. He sighs; perhaps it was in response to his phone conversation, perhaps it wasn't. You return to his tip, giving it kitten licks, the salty taste of precum coating your tongue.
That's when Chan decides he's had enough of your games. His hand moves to the back of your head, roughly pushing his cock into your mouth. You gag quite loudly, enough to make the person on the phone call question what the sound was.
Chan clears his throat. "Ah don't worry Sir," he says. "It's just my friend's dog that I'm watching. He's usually a very good boy, I guess today he's just a little antsy." He pulls the phone away from his face while patting your head, "Why don't you be a good boy and be quiet while Daddy's on the phone?" You whimper around his cock in response before he continues on with his call.
Cautiously, you proceed back to what you were doing. You bob your head on his cock, your hand pumping what you can't fit in your mouth. His tip hits the back of your throat; he's deliciously large, not just in length but girth. You keep up a good pace, careful not to gag or make any noise. Chan's hand moves to cup your cheek, his touch shockingly soft and tender. However, that changes abruptly as he grabs your face and began to face fuck you. His pace was fast and unforgiving, your jaw becoming sore, drool dripping down your chin.
You know Chan would never give you more than you could handle, so you take his fast pace the best you can, slightly gagging with each thrust. Chan clears his throat before apologizing back into the speaker, "Sorry, Sir. this dog won't stop whimpering. I think he's hungry, do you mind if I put you on hold real quick while I feed him?"
You don't hear the man's reply but suddenly Chan's attention turns to you. "You're such a fucking brat you know that? You can't even wait for me to finish this call, so you just decide to help yourself. Such a whore," He emphasizes his words with his thrusts, "You're going to regret what you're doing once I finish this call."
His cock twitches in your mouth, you know he won't last much longer. "I'm going to return to my call and you're going to finish me off like a good boy. I want you to swallow every last drop okay?"
You mumble in reply, hearing him return to his call. He slows down his thrust, letting you regain control. You work what doesn't fit in your mouth with your hands, expertly pumping him. Your tongue moved up and down his shaft before you fully took him in again. You feel him twitch again, his grip on your hair tight, you know he's about to cum. A slight moan comes out of him as you feel him release into your mouth. You swallow every last drop of his warm cum, not letting any go to waste as demanded.
You thoroughly clean him off before releasing his cock from your mouth. Right at that moment, you hear him finish up his call with a quick 'goodbye'.
Chan helps you back up to your feet, holding onto your unsteady body. "You know you're in trouble, don't you, baby boy?"
You nod.
"But... let's save your punishment for another day. Will you let me take care of you right now?" His hand reaches down to palm your hard-on. "You're so hard right now, it's my turn to taste you."
You kiss him on the lips, conveying your answer. He picks you up off your feet, whisking you away to the bedroom.
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vixenobrian · 5 months
Text
Seeing Ghosts
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This is the first fic I've written here, so I hope you enjoy it!
Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x reader
---------------------------------------------------
"Bradley honey, I'm home!"
No answer.
I sighed, setting down the groceries on the island countertop. I knew he was home, the Bronco sitting in the driveway was a clear indication of that, but I also knew why I had received radio silence.
"How was Mav?" I asked, almost scared of the answer myself.
"Mav's fine hun." Bradley retorted. He must have been upstairs in the bedroom, hiding away from me. I understood how hard this must have been on him, but not seeing my husband run down the stairs and greet me with a kiss when I walked through the door still kind of hurt my feelings. Still, I knew how important his space was after his visits.
"How are you bubs?" I called back. Nothing.
Mav had been in and out of the hospital for months now, more and more parts of his body slowly giving way. For a man who wasn't supposed to live past his 30s, everyone was certainly surprised to see it was in fact old age that did him in. Recently though, it was his brain that was going, and this seemed to be the hardest on everyone.
Bradley had been struggling, badly. Between his parents and Ice, Mav was the only one he had left, and to see him slowly slipping away, losing both his body and mind at the same time? Bradley had barely been able to stand it. Each night he would come home after visiting, crawl into bed, and simply lay his head on my chest and cry. I really wasn't sure what else to do at this point, other than be there for him.
I sighed, grabbing the fancy bottle of wine I picked up from the grocery store, before heading upstairs. We both needed a pick me up, and what better way than a good wine, and a home-cooked meal.
"Roos, darling," I called, slightly pushing open the door to our bedroom. I vaguely caught a glimpse of his figure, but I pushed right past it, wanting to grab the things I knew he needed and was probably avoiding. When he got like this, he tended to neglect his medicine, and I knew if I took a glance at him, I would have too. I grabbed the bottle off of the bathroom counter, seeing it right next to his spread-out shaving kit. I pushed back into the bedroom, finally looking him in the eyes.
"Roos, I have a- oh God!"
Rooster sat on the edge of the bed, his big broad shoulders slumped over in defeat. I could tell he had been crying by the dark red circles around his eyes, but none of this is what concerned me. Above Rooster's top lip laid no mustache, something he had worn with pride for years. He always considered it his best feature and took meticulous care in grooming it. I had never even seen him without it. I knew something had to have been terribly wrong.
I sat down the wine on the dresser, my excitement fleeting with the bottle, before reaching for his face. I brought my legs over him, straddling his lap, before taking his face into both of my heads. Immediately, I began to wipe his tears, while simultaneously peppering kisses to his cheeks.
"Roos, honey, what happened?"
"He called me Nick again."
My heart sank, pulling him fully into my embrace. I felt tears start to fall from my own eyes and the boy beneath me began to sob, shaking in my embrace. His hands clenched the back of my shirt, as I attempted to comfort him in his sorrows.
"Bradley, I am so sorry," I said. I felt guilty. I felt anger toward Maverick, even though I knew none of it was his fault. Still, he had hurt Bradley, my Bradley, and the anger that came with that radiated through me. I took a deep breath, trying to push these emotions down.
"I just want him to see me" He whimpered into my shoulder. My hand found the nape of his neck, slowly playing with his hair there. It was his comfort spot, and I felt him slowly relax into me, letting all of his body weight fall freely as if we were being combined into one. I let him lay here for a few minutes, switching between playing with his hair and rubbing his back, before slowly backing away, and once again taking his face into my hands.
"Bradley, honey, I am so sorry that happened to you, but I need you to know, no matter what happens, Maverick loves you so much sweet boy," I comforted, "and on top of that, I love you so much. So no matter what, you are loved, Bradley."
He pulled me in the back of my neck, planting a sweet kiss right on my lips. The lack of hair felt foreign to me and caught me off guard. I pulled away, still holding his face in my hands, when I noticed his cheeks turning a color red.
"So, how bad is it?" He asked genuinely, causing me to chuckle.
"You are still the most handsome man in the world Bradshaw," I told him genuinely, "but how long before it grows back?"
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comicaurora · 5 months
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Hi! I finally got the chance to read Aurora a bit ago. It's a wonderful story--all I was expecting and better! I was particularly amazed and delighted by the artwork and visual mechanics used to tell the story, so I wrote a post to yell about how cool it is and break some of it down. (No criticism, just praise.) I'm mostly a hobbyist, so I'm hoping I've done it justice.
That said: zero pressure to read it or respond to this ask. Normally I wouldn't send it since I tagged, but I know Tumblr's notifs are a mess and things get lost very easily. I've been in both the "one (1) word of praise will feed me for a year" and the "oh gods don't talk about my writing/art because anything that seems Off will break my brain" modes before, and I absolutely don't want to push or make you uncomfortable!
If you are comfortable, however, I wanted to ask about your use of what I'm assuming are Screen and blending modes in sound effect words. (I'm only guessing that's the technique, though, so I could be totally wrong about how it's done! I'm mostly experienced in image manipulation in Photoshop.) Making them semi-transparent over the actions is genius :) What inspired you to do that, and are there specific techniques you use to make it work?
Same questions go for using specific colors to distinguish different characters' words and actions. I really noticed it in the cave sequence with Falst and Dainix, since their colors are so vivid in the dark (ex. Falst's little swats and Dainix's swooping kick at 1.20.9). It lends excellent clarity to busy scenes.
Thanks! Have a lovely day, enjoy your break, and happy holidays <3
You're correct about the technique! "Screen" is the blend mode I use most often for sound effects. I stumbled on it mostly through trial and error - I love how sound effects add depth to a comic panel, but it's very easy for them to obscure the art in a way I find counterproductive, so "Screen" lets me put the sound effect directly over the origin of the sound while still letting it be visible through the word. Early chapters didn't have it as much-
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Most of the sound effects in early chapters are just solid colors with reduced opacity if I'm feeling fancy. But I started figuring it out around chapter 8 and 9, because Falst is kind of a sound-effect-heavy guy, especially in his fight scenes.
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In order to make sure they don't impede the visibility of the action, I'll often soft-erase the top or bottom half of the SFX to reduce its opacity while still leaving it readable.
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I'll usually double that up with an outline on the SFX so it's still readable. This is an especially important consideration if the SFX goes over an area of the background that's very bright or glowing.
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Color-coding the speed lines and SFX to the character or force causing them isn't a hard and fast rule, but I like using it (in part because it's a habit from the OSP illustrations, where every character has a single pop of color in their lineart) mostly because it sort of codes every sound to make it clear where it's emanating from, or the general feeling of the sound. Since I normally do character-colors for SFX, something like this stands out more jarringly-
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Which it's supposed to, but a big lightning strike doesn't register as anything too worrying because it's just Tess up to her usual shenanigans.
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It's also very useful for magic effects, because each form of magic has its own associated palette.
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And when I had a very complicated fight scene in a dark environment, I used the texture pattern I'd already made for the monster to color its SFX, so when I Screened them onto the panels they didn't obscure too much while still communicating "this is something else."
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Changing the weight, lined-vs-not-lined, and opacity of the SFX words also helps to communicate that not every sound has the same feeling. A strong motion is solid and aggressive, but a crackling, unstable sound is more ephemeral and staticky.
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It's definitely been a process of learning as I go - looking back at the earlier chapters I can actually see when I first tried various tricks I now use regularly, like doubling and distorting an SFX to produce the effect of a camera-shaking impact. I haven't really seen any other comics that do it like I do, probably because most other comics follow a more traditional production pipeline where text bubbles and sound effects get locked into the composition early, before the inking stage, because traditional physical comics don't have digital-art layers to play with. Adding sound effects to a page is almost the last thing I do before exporting them, and that only works because digital art and layers allow for a ton of flexibility.
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Text
fucked up - Nico Hischier
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summary; Nico Hischier x reader.
The honest opinion from a person you really like can hurt the most. But what if Nico regrets it?
warning(s); bad language, angst, argument, fluff, maybe grammar errors
author's note; based on a true story. I'm sorry for not posting "happy-clappy fluff imagines" like usually (promise they'll come back soon). I can't write just pure fluff when I'm crying a river.
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It's the third day in a row that Nico doesn't want to talk with you. You can't explain why, but your stomach feeling tells you, something is not okay. You tried to distract yourself with work, work and more work. But when you step in your apartment, you're mentally break down. Your overthinking says hello. You grab your phone, trying to call him, just his mailbox.
"What did I do wrong", you mumble to yourself, biting on your lip. It's rainy outside, like how you feel. You're starring at other people out of the window, until your phone vibrates. "hello?", you start the conversation without looking on the screen, who it is. "it's Nico, are you at home?", his voice sounds deep and kinda annoyed, "yes", you smile, happy to hear he's alive. "Ok bye", he hangs up without a second. You stress yourself to cook a nice dinner in an hour until the door bell rings. "hi baby!", you want to wrap your arms around his neck, but he pushes you politely away, "we need to talk, something is bothering me", his brown eyes let you feel confused, he never been so serious. You nod and let him walk in your kitchen. "I cooked dinner for us two", you smile to blow the negative vibes away. "Do you think dinner will change the fact you act exaggerate?!", his tall body turns around because he stands before you. "huh?", you're even more confused. "We're not together and you stress me out", he tolerates no argument whilst speaking. Honestly you're not able to argue. It's like a punch in your face. "what did I do?", you feel so small. Even when he told you this in a respectful way. "you stress me out. You want to text non-stop and you're not my girlfriend, not yet. After last night with five text messages I'm thinking if it's a good idea to ask you for that", Nico grabs your shaky hands,"it's not like I'm not interested anymore", he kisses your forehead. You're just able to nod and accept the fact. What he needs and wants.
"Thank you for telling me this", your fake smile shows sadness. Nico doesn't want to hurt you on purpose. "I'll pack in the pesto for you", with blurry eyes you do that, giving him the lunch box. Nico just stays calm, taking it and when you close the door behind you, he thinks of hoping you understood what he meant.
The next days your chest feels heavy, texting no message, you don't call him, you let him his freedom. You know Nico lost the finals of the world championship, he looked so disappointed and usually you would at least send him something lovely, but your brain tells you; you were clingy. You're the problem. You're a bad Person for bothering someone. You don't enjoy being a clingy girl.
In the middle of night your phone vibrates again, like ten times until you groan, you're not in the shape to talk happy phone calls. "hey, are you ok?", his voice sounds occupied. "Sure", you reply. "You didn't text me once. I'm worried. We lost", he let you know the news. Of course you're not saying that you watched his game. Like he gave you a clear message. You would be clingy you're not his girlfriend and he owes you nothing.
"I'm sorry to hear that", your hands shake again. You don't feel comfortable anymore, more like you have to hide your personality to be not the problem anymore. "I didn't mean that I don't like to talk with you", he coughs. "I really like you anyway as a person who you are", he talks more. "I'm tired, good night", hanging up until he can hear how much you're hurt. Just thoughts hunting you in your head;
what are you doing now?
What is the right way to deal with this?
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