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#find something that gives their life meaning gives their life purpose
buckttommy · 2 days
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god. god. but like. so eddie is dating this woman, right. she's shannon's mirror. shannon is every way that matters. she's got that rasp to her voice, that scrunch to her nose. she is, for all intents and purposes, the best parts of his wife minus the memories together. and so, it's like. he's with her, he's living this fantasy, this delusion, as ryan called it. and. it really is the most selfish thing eddie has done, which is incredible because eddie is a deeply unselfish person, not because of nobility but because he is violently self-sacrificial in a way that verges on self-harm. but we won't go there right now. so he's dating this woman—this fake shannon—and is just like. he's happy. for the first time in years, he's genuinely happy and he's tasting just a little bit of what his life could have been like if...
but then it's like. eddie. eddie. you don't know what you are to this woman. are you her second chance? did her fiance die? is she trying to find love again after tragedy? is she a cancer survivor? are you her new lease on life? is she from a different city? did she have a bad breakup? did her mom die? did her pet run away? did she lose a job? just. it's like. he's inserting himself into this woman's life and all he's thinking about is him him him. she's like my shannon, she's like my wife, i need to do this for me. and it's like ok... great. so you're entering this woman's life for your own selfish gain and you have no idea how badly, how deeply this will hurt her. eddie diaz, you may very well be Just Some Guy to her but you may very well also be The Guy to her. YOU JUST DON'T KNOW
and so. i'm thinking and i'm like. so she finds out. she finds out he's not single, finds out he lied to her from the jump, and she's hurt. and. i don't think eddie's thought that far. because right now, right, right now he's just seeing, and tasting, and feeling the joy and euphoria inherent to being in shannon's orbit. but baby boy. when you hurt her. when you see the tears well up in her eyes and hear that voice crack. when you see her brows draw together and her face tighten when she's pissed, and sudeenly you are twenty-something and stupid breaking your wife's heart for the goddamn millionth time all over again. what then. what then eddie? it's like. you cannot have the joy of "shannon" as some cosmic second chance without having the grief of her too. and it's grief either way. it's grief whether "shannon" is alive and he gets to live this fantasy up until he breaks her heart again, and it's grief if she's dead and she stays dead and life doesn't give him anymore second chances, like. it's all grief. it's all sad.
and he's gotta pick his poison. he has to. this is a path he must walk, but damn if he isn't picking the poison that's going to hurt him the most. i mean jesus. he should have just stuck to pining for a damn ghost. my god eddie. my god.
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cherryredstars · 2 days
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Hi Cherry!
Could you do a part 2 to fear (f)or lust? There something about mean dom miguel that makes me ✨️tingle✨️
Maybe sprinkle some fluff at the end?
You are an amazing writer ❤️ Love everything you do!
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Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x fem!reader
Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Mean!Miguel, Penetrative Sex, Bruising, Face Slapping, Creampie, Cum-Stained Panties (LMAO)
Summary: He still has one last thing to prove.
A/N: Hihi, love!! Thank you!!
Not Edited
Part 1
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It's been a week.
Far too long for Miguel's taste, if it wasn't evident from how much harsher he's been on the field lately. His mood is effectively soured from your disappearance lately. It's partly to do with you avoiding him and the fact you're at some nerdy competition for the school. You had told him in text the day before you left, and his mood has been getting worse ever since. His life has become surprisingly dull without you around to scare and stuff his fingers into. He hates to say it, but he missed his little Bambi.
But his suffering finally comes to an end when he's walking the halls and the familiar tweeting of your voice passes him. He looks up from his phone, turning his head the same time you turn yours, his threatening eyes meeting your shiny ones. He gives you a smirk before you're pushed away by the crowd of students, continuing his path forward as he presses a few buttons on his phone. He wished you were in front of him so you can squeak at the door look on his face when you pick up the phone.
"Can't hide from me forever, Bambi."
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The scene looks familiar as you stand outside his door, the only difference this time is he's not wearing a shirt or sweats. He leans comfortably against the frame of his door, acting as if he isn't just in a pair of black boxer briefs. His hair is a bit limp over his forehead, beads of water still clinging to his tanned skin. He must have just gotten out of the shower, remembering vaguely that he had practice today so you knew to avoid taking any outside paths that pass by the field. You try your best to not stare at his muscular chest, but you find it hard to meet his eyes too. They always have that dark, hungry look in them. You opt to stare at his ear, your cheeks flaming.
Miguel on the other hand, doesn't care if you watch him take you in. His brow is quirked up, looking at the slight changes you think he wouldn't have noticed. You're wearing a bit more makeup than you usually do, your lips glossier and more colored than they usually are. The top you're wearing is tighter than what you're more comfortable wearing, different from the slightly baggy shirts you like to wear for tutoring sessions. He hopes for your sake you wore it specifically for him and you didn't come from something as silly as a date.
He moves slightly out of the doorway, leaving just enough room for you to squeeze through. You eye the empty space, something bubbling in your stomach as you slowly walk forward and squeeze yourself through. Your entire side brushes against Miguel's front, and his skin is burning hot against yours. You avoid looking at him at all costs, praying in your head to keep yourself together. You're so lost in throught that you yelp when Miguel suddenly grabs your arm, pulling you back into him.
You finally look him directly in the face, your eyes wide as he smirks down at you. Your eyes squeeze shut when he leans down, warning bells sounding at top volume in your head. You really regret closing your eyes because you're unprepared when you're suddenly lifted off the ground, a large and startled gasp leaving your lips as your eyes are snapped open. Your stare meets the ground, and Miguel's muscular shoulder digs into your stomach. His arm is wrapped around the back of your knees, and it's the only precaution he's taking to make sure you don't fall. You almost feel like crying when he purposely jolts you on his shoulder, loosening his grip slightly so you slide forward a bit. He laughs darkly as you claw at his back, having nothing to hold onto.
You can feel every step he takes as he takes you away from the front door, walking down a wall until you both enter a room. It smells so heavily of Miguel, and the air is slightly thick from the shower's steam that flows into the room. It makes your head dizzy, and it doesn't help when Miguel throws you off his shoulder and onto his bed. You bounce from the force as you land on the bed, landing partially on the towel he used to dry his hair before answering the door.
He looks so menacing standing over you, his body blocking the light from the hallway from entering his dark room. It makes him glow, like some dark angel that is determined to take you with him. He movements are slow and predatory as he walks to you, the faint light doing just enough to show how his muscles shift. He forces his large frame between your legs, his rough hands grabbing your calves and spreading them wider to accommodate him. The stretch slightly hurts, and you wince slightly when he forces his body forward so he can be face to face with you. Your legs rest on either side of his waist as he rests his hands on either side of your head, one of his hands rubbing at your cheek.
"You're so silly," He chuckles, he red eyes appearing to be glowing down at you. "Want to hide f'me, but then y'come here all dolled up."
You open your mouth to protest, but Miguel sticks his thumb through your parted lips, pressed down on your tongue. You gag around the finger in surprise, eyes widening as a distressed sound leaves your mouth. Miguel's thumb presses harder on your tongue, and he quirks his head to the side.
"No need to lie. I know it was all for me." He smiles. His other hand snakes down your body, stopping until the heel of his palm presses against your cunt through your pants.
You squirm in his hold, trying to pull away from him. It only makes a dull pleasure shoot up your body, and you buck your hips harder with a whine. Miguel shakes his head at your foolishness, pulling his soaked thumb out of your mouth and wiping the saliva across your trembling bottom lip. He gives your face two soft pats, causing your pulse to jump as you remember the last time he slapped your face. He seems to know what you're thinking about as he coos down at you, reassuring you that he isn't going to slap you. Not unless you give him a reason too.
The promise- or is it a threat?- causes your body to flame, and you try to look away from his face. He scowls, his hand squeezing your cheeks together, puckering your lips as he forces you to face him. His brows are furrowed in distaste, and his other hand begins to undo your pants. He leans down, your noses almost bumping as he glares down at you.
"Who told you to look away? It sure as hell wasn't me."
You try to mumble an apology through your puckered lips, but barely any sound comes out besides incoherent hums. Miguel roughly throws your head to the side as he lets go, moving his hand down to get rid of your pants. He does it without your assistance, pressing your hips up himself to slide them off your legs and throwing them to the side. He hums as he spots the dark patch in your underwear, his fingers pressing on it and letting it sink into your hole. Your hips jolt, the uncomfortable wetness making you squirm. Miguel chuckles, moving the panties to the side, to see the way your entrance pulsates in an need to be filled.
He hums darkly at the pleasant sight, his fingers circling your hole. The stimulation distracts you for only a moment before Miguel harshly yanks your panties to the side, gasping in pain as you feel the fabric rub and snap around the crease of your thigh. The useless fabric is tossed to the side, and Miguel starts fishing his leaking cock out of his boxers. Your eyes widen at how large he is, and you try to push yourself away from him. Miguel tuts in annoyance, grabbing your thigh and roughly pulling you back into place. You gasp when his heavy dick slaps against your cunt, his angry tip pushing against your puffy clit. You freeze under him, finally learning that squirming gets you nowhere.
Miguel finally seems pleased for once, liking the way you've wordlessly submitted to him as you try to relax your body. He slowly moves his hips back and forth, sliding his cock through your glossy folds. You whimper slightly at the feeling, your body caving in on itself as your cheeks flame. Miguel pays you no mind, his eyes trained on where he slides through you as he lets out a low groan in approval. The underside of his cock is getting sticky from your arousal, and his tip catches against your entrance every now and then.
The teasing makes you ache for more. You open your mouth, only for a loud scream to escape as you're suddenly full. The stretch is quick and painful as Miguel unexpectedly thrusts inside of you, filling you to the brim in one move. You can feel him pressed against your cervix, and you let out choked breaths as your cunt squeezes around him. Miguel moans lowly at the feeling, gritting his teeth as he tries to pull out. Your cunt makes it almost impossible with how desperately your walls cling to him, but with some effort he begins to thrust into you.
You make pathetic little noises every time he bottoms out inside of you, his thrusts rough and fast as the sound of skin hitting skin echoes in his room. You already know the back of your thighs will be red and aching by the time he's done. You squirm on his dick, your shaky hands pressing on his shoulders in a weak attempt to push him off of you. He finds it to be a stupid move on your part as he gathers your wrists in his hand, pinning them above your head as he ruts into you. Your hands clench in his hold, your mouth dropping open in a silent moan.
"Y'know, I was thinking about how easy it would be to fold you. Wanna test it out?"
Miguel's eyes are concentrated as he stares at where his cock penetrates you, watching the slight shine that coats his length and tuning his ears in on the squelching of your pussy. He groans as you clench around him, his hands coming to your thighs as he moves your legs to rest over his shoulders. You whine at the movement, his cock seeming to hit deeper inside of you. If you thought your thighs ached before, they burn now as the tops of your thighs press against your chest. Miguel ruts rougher into you, his teeth gritted as your cunt pulsates around him. You can feel that tight ball in your stomach, and you squeal when Miguel starts toying with your clit.
Your body trembles under him, the heels of your feet beating down on his muscular back as the onslaught of pleasure makes you're mind dumb. He's sure he'll get bruises from how hard your heels are hitting his back, but it doesn't deter him from fucking into you. Your nails dig crescents into your palms as you explode, your body twisting in an attempt to escape Miguel's consistent thrusts as you gush around his cock. Miguel groans as your cunt milks him, sweat beading on his forehead as he tries to find his release as you convulse.
He gives your cunt a few more brutal thrusts before his hips slow, slowly fucking his cum into your abused pussy. You mewl up at him as his hand releases your wrists, his hips finally stopping. Your chest rises and falls with quick breaths as you calm down, your body already feeling sore as Miguel moves your legs off his shoulders. His chest isn't moving as rapidly as yours is from his years spent on the field, his heart used to the hard physical demands Miguel puts his body through. But he does let out a slightly shaky sigh as his large hands softly knead your thighs. It makes the ache fade slightly, and he reaches besides you to grab the towel he used before. You jolt slightly when he wipes down your sticky cunt, hesitating a bit as he watches the glob of cum leak from your hole.
When your breaths start to regulate, you lift yourself slightly up. Your eyes catch the outline of your ruined panties on the floor, and your brows furrow as you wonder how you'll get home without any underwear. Miguel follows your line of sight, eyebrow raised as he takes in the tattered fabric. He crawls off you, walking to one of his dressers and rummaging through it. You expect him to pull out a pair of boxers, but what he pulls out is much too small for him to fit. Miguel throws them at you, and you pick them up hesitantly. Miguel can't help but chuckle as you gasp, staring wide-eyed at the stiffened pair of panties at the end of your fingers.
You feel like crying thinking about the prevented things he must have done to your poor panties.
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glitterjay · 2 days
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This is kinda like a funny silly request but maybe y/n pranking enhypen like she pranks them with like slamming the car door (sorry if that’s confusing I think there is tik toks that can give you a better visual 😭)
⭒ fluff, ot7
⭒ c's note: i think I know what you mean jfkds. reblogs are appreciated!
⭒ taglist: @hollyoongs @moon7jay @wondipity @fertilizedtoesw @kwiwin @enhabooks
heeseung had invited you to a party and even offered to give you a ride on his car. once you reached the destination, he got out first, saying he'd open the door for you. it was your perfect chance to get out on your own as he circled the back of the car, and slam the door with force. he stood there perplexed as you tried to contain a straight face, but gave up when he stayed frozen in place. heeseung tried to scold you for "damaging" his car, but eventually started laughing with you, admitting you caught him this once.
jay was taking you on a peaceful car ride around town, carpooling and having a lot of fun in general. it took him by surprise when you slammed the door as you were getting off the car when he pulled over at the park. he got off quickly, looking for signs of discomfort in your eyes, but was greeted instead with a mischievous laugh. he caught on to it being a prank quite fast, and only laughed to himself finding your humor adorable.
you and jake were on your way to an amusement park that had opened in the city. you two were quite excited so he didn't take it bad when you got out of the car and slammed the door. to be completely honest, you had forgotten about the prank, slamming the door being your genuine reaction due to the rush of adrenaline you felt at that moment.
sunghoon had offered you both ate at a restaurant on this occasion, just for the fun of it. he was indeed startled when you slammed the door of his car as you got off, but he had seen a few videos like this on the internet, so he didn't take it at heart. he knew he was right the moment you looked back at him giggling, making him laugh back with you. he appreciated the moment of joy you brought to his life, even if the pranks "damaged" his car.
sunoo gasped in surprised when you slammed the door of his car when he dropped you off back home. he got out of the car and followed you, worried he might've done or said something that upset you. you tried to keep your facade up but gave up when you saw how genuinely worried he was, reassuring it was a prank and apologizing for scaring him.
jungwon would be quite startled as well when you slammed the door without saying anything. you tried to stay mysterious about it, but the confusing looks he gave you were quite funny, making you giggle. he caught on to this whole thing being a prank, only shaking his head and laughing to himself finding you cute.
ni-ki had gotten a car not very long ago, and it was basically his eyes. to celebrate such achievement, he invited you to take a stroll with him around town. once it was time to drop you off at your house, you bid your goodbye to him and slammed the door a little too hard on purpose. ni-ki was caught off guard by the behavior, quickly rolling down the windows to ask what was wrong. he had a shocked face when you told him it was a prank, laughing more when he started scolding you for messing with his new car. he was definitely getting back at you one day.
© glitterjay | tumblr
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twistedastrology · 2 days
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- The most painful Chiron placements -
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in my opinion-
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to preface, all chiron placements are inherently painful, but these to me are the ones i have the most respect for in a way??
everyone knows chiron as the wounded healer, it represents our soul level wound that, once healed, is our greatest superpower.
so here are a handful of the chiron placements that to me are the most intense.
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- Chiron in Aries/1st -
chiron in aries is absolutely terrifying to me and i have the utmost respect for people with this placement because this is a core wound of the self.
they go through life forever trying to find who they are and feeling like the world holds no space for them- ive said like a billion times that my biggest fear is losing myself, and that's the wound that chiron in aries has to deal with.
they might struggle with finding what they're willed to do and might feel like a mosaic of everything else around them instead of a real person and that is so scary to me.
once they manage to heal that wound though, they are fucking unstoppable and inspire others to find themselves just as they did.
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- Chiron in Sagittarius -
this one is intense to me because it often has a lot of potential to remain unhealed- this is a wound that relates to spirituality entirely-
i dont know many ppl with this placement at all but i imagine they're scared or intimidated by spirituality as a whole to some degree-
these people don't know what the purpose of life is, they don't know what they believe in or If they believe in anything- the subject of belief and purpose in life is very sore for them.
when healed, this chiron placement bestows an intense sense of belonging and meaning in life, and it has a lot of potential to remain unhealed because spirituality at the very least helps you to find a true meaning in life, without adhering to a strict religion that makes one up.
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- Chiron in Aquarius/11th -
im a little biased for this one because i have this placement but i can 100% speak from experience because of that.
this placement is easily the most agonizing one in my entire chart- for the longest time i felt like i would never find true friends, and sometimes that feeling will creep up again and it makes me absolutely crumble.
chiron in aries and chiron in aquarius are very similar to some extent because they both feel like the world won't give them somewhere to feel at home, just for different reasons.
chiron in aquarius makes you feel like you will never have anyone who truly understands you and that even if you do, they won't stick around like you want them to.
for some people, this can make them try to conform to somewhere they don't belong. thankfully i don't have that aspect, but it has crossed my mind multiple times in life.
this placement, when it's triggered by something, makes me immediately consider every possibility upon meeting someone new and forces me to give up my hopes until im proven otherwise.
im pretty sure it's the reason i have an avoidant attachment style as well as trust issues 😮‍💨
when healed though, these people have the ability to bring people together without snuffing anyone's individuality. they always respect people for who they are and the friends they do manage to find respect them for who they are.
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much shorter post this time but ive been super tired all day and ofc had a chiron trigger so ive been a little cranky to say the least- but i wanted to write something for some reason so i figured what better than what i struggled with today 😮‍💨
if you have any of these chiron placements or just generally know your chiron fucking hurts really bad when it's triggered, i get it- but it won't be like that forever. the more we manage to heal, the more that wound is transformed into the most stable part of our charts.
if in general you're not doing well rn, again, i get it, but it will never be like that forever. that's not how life works. you won't be happy forever either, but if you were, there would be no value to it.
like the song i named this blog after says, "a lonely life where no one understands you, but don't give up because the music do"
- 🖤 -
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minimoefoe · 19 hours
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space babies and the devil's chord first watch thoughts
a couple of these are things i wrote down while watching but most is off the top of my head afterwards. will probs rewatch in the week and be more on it writing down thoughts etc
spaces babies
starting the episode with however many minutes of the doctor telling ruby his life story is... idk. defo didn't hate it but also it felt very powerpoint-y like they're just tryna get all the info out and hit the bases for the new viewers. which is partly understandable and i do think it make sense for the new therapised doctor to be willing to give out info about himself but that coupled with him giving her the key at the end of the ep is like hm i maybe woulda preferred her to find out misc stuff over time? not just have his life story dumped on her when they've just met??? idrk.
with prev eras, that stuff came over time or with 13 the fam finding out about where the doctor was from was a big thing bc it took a whole season and also there was meaning behind it, she was just telling them to get them to stop asking. where as this doesn't feel as deep? it felt, like i said, more about telling the audience than about anything else. even if it does make sense he'd be willing to be open bc of his new therapised self and also the fact him and ruby relate in certain ways so he might feel closer to her quicker
the exact same phone trick that nine did with rose is so... another thing that's like okay fine and also that rose scene was 19yrs ago now so it's not like it happened recently but it being by the same writer is like maybe think of something new. at least the scenes weren't in the same context like with nine and rose it was right after a fight but this was more chill
the doctor purposely scaring the babies was so 😭😭😭
the babies were so cute like. i low-key felt a bit teary when we first met them and they were saying about being alone or whatever it was
some review mentioned that the doctor said 'space babies' a lot and yeah he did and i noticed it every time and idk if that's bc of the review mentioning it or if i woulda noticed anyways but either way it was annoying
ruby sunday monday tuesday wednesday
fifteen and ruby have good banter idk i didn't list every moment but they're defo good together
gonna be real idk why they didn't just let that bogeyman die like. was he or was he not tryna kill them for half the episode. call him a baby but that is not a baby. that ending felt strange idrk
overall a good ep, gave it 3.5/5. has potential to be a 4/5 on rewatch but we'll see
the devil's chord
maestro i doubted you but i stan kinda
the scenes that were released as sneak peaks were WAYYYY better in the actual context of the episode
a susan mention in the year of our lord 2024 is craaaazy. loved it but again is like my first space babies point where it kinda feels like stuff is being revealed to kinda give new viewers back story?? but ALSO susan finally getting mentioned by name is great and what she deserves so idk
one review said ruby was 'casually bisexual' and i did watch these eps at 6/7am so maybe i missed something but.. i didn't notice a single bi ruby moment
maestro mentioning the one who waits at the end was like omfg can we be more creative. i am really into what this season is doing and the toymaker being maestro's dad is really cool but can we find ways of hinting at stuff that isn't literally just a character saying 'they're coming'. it's so lazy
not sure why there's been a six month time skip between episode one and two???? just to keep up with our time? very unnecessary and i feel like doesn't fully work bc ruby has FRESH companion vibes still (like how by now she would defo have found out that shit going bad in the past would fuck up her life in the future but she didn't) but we're i guess supposed to believe it's been six months? whatever
all the fourth wall breaking isn't my fave
why was there a song and dance at the end i know it was music ep but it felt strange/unnecessary
the doctor aggressively pointing the sonic at maestro was so funny like. worried ppl would play guns on the playground with the old sonic design and then you have the doctor do that lol very unserious
the next time trailer looked really cool i'm looking forward to more darker eps, these were mostly just fun
gave this ep 4/5. could go down, defo won't go up i don't think
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sassmill · 1 year
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I asked “are you okay with me introducing your queerness into the museum’s official narrative? Is that term alright with you? Does it resonate with your experience when you lived?” And these cards all came flying out of the deck. Lizzo’s “about damn time” came into my head right when the three of wands came out, too. I feel like I’m going to start crying.
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peapod20001 · 8 months
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I actually do have very complex thoughts about many different things, it’s just a bit challenging to connect the inner voice to the outer voice sometimes </3
#random post#I have SO many thoughts and ideas. I love to create and I love to build on what I have and I like to connect to existing things#there is lots of oc lore in my brain! it graces my blog sometimes. not always. it’s hard to put abstract feeling and thought into words#and it’s challenging trying to find the best place to start talking about things yknow? like I as the creator of this whole unique universe#pretty much already know how things end up. how they’re going. how it started. some are easier to know than others. but that doesn’t stop me#from trying create for it. or searching for the missing piece to start the domino effect of development and fulfillment#it’s hard to see where the pieces fit sometimes. but getting a new angle or changing something about the piece can make finding where it#belongs easier. this is what I mean when I say I have very intricate and complicated thoughts. not spending too long writing my sentences or#overthinking them helps to keep things as they are in my head. since I’m not filtering them into something almost unrecognizable#writing a paper in a single sitting in a set time really helps me produce a unified and intricate product. I’ve been told I write well#which I find mildly humorous. I’ve never been a writer by choice really. I’m an artist that works with a physical visual piece rather than#letters that convey meaning. I’m more of a thinker than a writer. but in some instances they’re one in the same. I’m rambling but y’all know#that about me by now I’m sure hahagahaha. yea. my OCD makes me spend too long on words and that’s why I always talk in a short way#a more simplistic way. leaves less room for the mind to pick out flaws if everything is flawed on purpose yknow? haha yea. I like me yknow?#and other people like me too! that will never cease to surprise and amaze me haha. I’m one of those people that has an easier time with#people different from themselves. the people I’ve known and spoke to throughout my life are so very different from me. but they all feel#comfortable to share their experience with me. a lot of these people on paper would be ones I’d try to avoid I guess. differing opinions and#world views yknow? but the way I am. gives people comfort I’ve found. I’m not bragging about that it’s just interesting. it’s the same with#my whole household like we meet people that are like. idk a good descriptor but they’re very set in a specific way. and then we just?? they#like us?? idk it’s just funny to think about my dad getting along with legit crazy people or my mom being the person who’s the favorite of#the least liked / polite person in the office. or my brother and sister being very well liked in their schools but are just average students#who aren’t trying to be more than kind. or when I as myself. with the thoughts and opinions I have. am able to get along with anyone I#come across. I’m really not trying to be bright about that I’m just an. empath? I guess? I’m just very nice to people and meet them at their#level and don’t try steering the conversation to smth bad or controversial. but even then people will still talk to me and like me cus I’m#not putting them down or hating on them for how they think and feel. I listen. I can understand them. not agreeing with their views doesn’t#mean I can’t get why people think or feel how they do. I try to not be biased or entirely antagonist to things different than me#I’ve gone my whole life not understanding a lot of things. and over time I’ve learned them. I go into experiences with people like that#I may not understand yet. but I’ll learn to. that’s probably the main reason why people feel comfortable around me. that and also I have#a smile pretty much always lol. I’m small and non threatening lookin with a single dimple on the cheek and eyes so dark you could see the#faintest light reflected in them. anyways I have gone into several different directions with this and kinda lost the main point I was making
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ironmanstan · 1 year
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unfortunately i look extremely approachable for some reason and paired with this i think way too slow to keep up w new social situations + this is like art school and i cant plan how to act for this yet and now 3 times back to back already i have gone through the mortifying ordeal of having art student girls introduce themselves to me -> i out of habit introduce myself w my old name -> they ask for my art instagram -> i give it to them without thinking and then have to explain why my name is rohan on there
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v-67 · 3 months
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And you know, sometimes I think, humans were created just so that we could create things that would even surprise god. Or a spiritual energy.
Imagine creating a being, who evolved, created more things. Things such as humans, fictional characters, Stories, AI, Tv shows.
So many timelines within a world, trying to understand the cosmos
Giving the world a meaning, so many meanings.
Maybe god/spiritual energy asked the question, what is universe
And they created humans
And humans gave them an answer to what is universe
And so many answers
In so many forms
In so many beings
That every speck of a thing we see, we name it, we talk about it, we create a life within it.
.....
Had a conversation with someone and sometimes I surprise myself
Took a part of it out and posted this because it makes sense to me.
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bagofshinyrocks · 5 months
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Government name vs Military callsign
Prompt: What scares them worse? Addressing them by their full government name, or addressing them by their military callsign?
Featuring: Task Force 141 (CoD: MW2) - John Price, Simon "Ghost" Riley, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Johnny "Soap" MacTavish (separately) x GN!Reader
Word Count: 0.9k
Warnings: none
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John Price
Government name.
Calling him Captain or Skipper just ends with him sauntering to where ever you are and ask (in an obnoxiously self-satisfied voice) what you wanted. Like a cat pretending it can’t hear the urgency in your tone when you say to get off the counter.
“If you want me to ‘shake a leg’, call my name, luvie.”
Now if you holler “Jonathan Price”, he’ll drop something. Either the newspaper in his hands, or his heart into his stomach. He sure as hell moves his ass with a purpose, and he’s peering into the room with an apology on his lips.
“Yes, luv? What’s wrong, poppet?”
“Lift the other end of the couch, would you?”
He does, and you shimmy it further back in the room. “Anything else I can do, love o’ my life?” He’s hovering, and gently coaxing you into his arms. Gauging how mad you were at him. You curled into him and kissed his chin. Then stepped away with a pat to his chest.
“No, sweetheart, just wanted you to shake a leg is all.”
When he remembers your previous conversation, he groans and tells you to fuck off.
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Simon Riley
Military callsign.
When you two are alone, and he’s already given you permission to call him Simon, don’t call him Ghost. When you say that word, he assumes one of his mates are at the door or on the phone, and goes from Simon to Ghost. Stalks into the room with narrowed eyes, only to find you in the kitchen. By yourself.
“Ghost, you want a sandwich too? Turkey and cheese.”
“Fuck you callin’ me that for?” 
Once he sees you’re alone, he swoops in and wraps around you like a hoodie. A firm kiss to your ear, then your cheek, then spun you around. Back pressed to the counter top. Settles his face right close to yours.
“We playin’ games now?” You didn’t want to upset him, so you pressed a kiss to his nose. His grumpy look faded a bit.
“Sorry, baby.” Arms wrapped carefully around his shoulders. And your fingers scratch his scalp. Another kiss to his nose. “I’m sorry for playing games with you. Simon Riley.”
Hearing his name on your lips finally cracked, and he gave you a smile. A little scar on the upper lip. You gave it a kiss, and then pressed a kiss to his lips. 
A quick surge forward, and you only just had time to shove aside the things behind you before you found yourself on the countertop.
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Kyle Garrick
Government name.
He doesn’t mind being called Gaz, and you’ll use Kyle and Gaz interchangeably. Doesn’t even mind if you use “Kyle” or “honey” in front of his squadmates. Though “Kylie” he does have some displeasure with.
“I’ll have you know, Soap is still calling me Kylie, you asshole.”
Call him ‘Garrick’, and he knows that you are pretending to be mad at him. He slinks over and rubs his face against your cheek. He’s too cute for you to stay mad.
If you shout “Kyle Garrick”, he comes running. He could have sworn that he put his clothes in the hamper. And did the dishes. And taken out the recycling. Damn, what was it that he forgot?
“Kyle Ga-”
“Yes, dear!” Shit, he didn’t mean to ‘yes, dear’ you. “Yes, my dear, I’m right here.”
You pause your laundry folding and summon him with a crook of your finger. Once he’s close enough, you tap your lip with the same finger. “I need a kiss.”
He blinked once. Then twice. “God damn you.” He squishes your face in his hands and gave you a quick, firm kiss. “Don’t stress me out like that. Thought you were mad.”
“Give me another kiss, or I will be.”
He rapid fire kissed your mouth, chin, and cheeks, then gave you a smack on the ass before returning to the living room. 
“In my own fucking home,” he muttered.
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John MacTavish
Military callsign.
He’s got some thick skin. And he’s had his name shouted angrily many a time. He would all but skip into the room with a big smile on his face. The only people who shouted that name (and wore out the scare-factor on it) were his family members. Shouting “John MacTavish” meant you loved him. You were also mad at him, but you loved him. That was more important. Even with your scowl and the gross pile of garbage he kept forgetting to take out. You loved him.
Now shouting his callsign reminded him of his superior officers.
“SOAP!”
Shit shit shit. He put down his beer and ran from the garage to the backyard. Leg brace over his sweats, low cut muscle shirt that you also wolf-whistle at when he wears. You were only weeding the garden boxes.
“JOHNNY!”
“I’m here, bonnie,” he hollered, rounding the corner. You were sitting in the dirt, a tidy pile of weeds and dead plant bits next to you.
“C’mere, c’mere.”
He leaned down next to you, hand on your shoulder and good knee on the ground. “Wassit?”
You pointed to the leaf in your hand. “A caterpillar, Johnny. An itsy-bitsy caterpillar.”
He sighed heavily and kissed your shoulder. “Bonnie, I thought something was wrong.”
“Hm?” You spared him a glance. “What are you talking about, bubba?”
“You called me Soap.”
“Did I? Didn’t mean to spook you, loverboy.” You gave him an apologetic kiss on the lips. “Just wanted you to see the caterpillar before he wiggled off.”
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Posted: 2023 Dec 10
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inkskinned · 1 year
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"the curtains weren't blue on purpose. why should we care?"
my love! let me ask you this - did you eat breakfast today? this tiny moment in your life. just think about it. did you?
for some of you, the answer is yes and for some of you it is technically and for some of you it is does coffee count. some of you reached for cereal or gmo-free overnight oats or frozen waffles or 3-day-old pizza. sometimes we eat the same thing, every day, for weeks. i get tired of eggs randomly, only to go back to craving them desperately. i'm cuban; i take my coffee like my father showed me, very milky and sweet.
some of us ate in a hurry. some of us hate eating breakfast but if we don't we will get nauseous later. some of us took our meds first or took our meds after. some of us have a kitchen 5 feet wide and sometimes it's the biggest room in the house. some of us are confident there will be food in the pantry and some of us flinch and say well, the paycheck is coming. some of us turn on a podcast while we eat or we scroll our phones or write in our diaries.
some of us are choosing, specifically, not to eat breakfast. some of us are too busy. some of us are pretending we "just forgot," but we are ignoring the warning signs that everything feels too-heavy. some of us are so consumed with anxiety or grief that we can't eat. some of us can't stand up long enough to make our coffee. some of us have no table to sit down and eat.
i cannot tell you what an artist "meant" by their choices. but they did have to make a choice, conscious or otherwise, to give you information. to give you a little bit more light. each of these choices are little stars of data; connecting speckles for you to weave through, drawing a line.
you cannot use a mirror in a dark room. for some of us; we will not care that the curtains are blue, because that will just be a data point and not enough light to see by. for some of us, the blue curtains will be the same as our childhood bedroom. it will make us seasick. for some of us, blue will be the color of frostbite. it might look like a pixel up close; but from a distance, oh! the picture blooms.
i cannot tell you what will stick out for you. what will carry meaning. some of you will read the sentence "i didn't have breakfast today" and say "this means nothing." some of you will read that and say "oh, me neither." some of you will say "this means the character is probably a little grouchy." some of you will say "oh, i wonder if they're okay. why didn't they eat anything?" ... art is a mirror. i am holding hands with you, over space and time, and asking you to feel something with me.
i want you to read my work and find a blue pair of curtains. i want you to read my work and find things in it that i never imagined placing. i have no way of knowing what will resonate with you, that's true. and maybe i just was hungry while i wrote this, and thinking about the eggs in my fridge. but if you found meaning, that meaning is yours. it cannot be erased just because i didn't "intend" it. you created a different world by interpreting my work. it's collaborative! that's beautiful! that's stunning!
just! imagine looking at the night sky and saying - it's stupid to have a favorite constellation or a favorite star. they're just there.
because here's the thing - across centuries and cultures, we look up. we still find meaning in the stars. these beautiful, lovely scattered accidents. are you looking? they call. and we look back and say oh! of course we are!
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sixosix · 6 months
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wanderer can fly; you cannot. he makes it his problem.
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“What? Giving up already?”
“Shut—” heaving, you barely have the energy to flip him off, “shut the fuck up. Fuck off.”
Wanderer chuckles, all low and mean, as if his entire purpose in life is to ridicule you. He continues ascending overhead, moving and looking like an angel, but the words that come out of his mouth are far from angelic. “Careful, now. I know you overestimate yourself, but I won’t save you if you continue to scale a mountain with one hand.”
“Stop agitating me on purpose then!” You nearly slip from the intensity of your yell, but thankfully, it isn’t your time yet.
“How can I? You’re cute when you’re mad.”
Grumbling, you focus back on the mountain. Cute when mad. He must think he’s goddamn adorable, then.
You’re starting to lose sight of dents or protruding surfaces to get a hold of, and the mountain is getting steeper. You curse under your breath. If only you had Geo or Dendro—that’d help a lot much more. Maybe even Anemo, but that would be admitting defeat to the man who’s currently watching you intently.
Wanderer scoffs when your breath hitches, the surface you’re holding onto crumbling. He descends until you’re eye level. “Idiot, I told you that it’d be safer if we didn’t climb this all the way.”
“I know my limit.” Maybe. You may or may not have gotten a little over-competitive and jumped a few times, but that shouldn’t be a problem.
“Not more than I do,” he says.
“Don’t say it like that, weirdo.” You appraise the mountain overhead and, with a sunken stomach, realize that he’s right. There’s still a long way to go, and it’s a long fall back.
“Damn,” you say. You turn to Wanderer and blink up at him with wide eyes, hoping he would take the hint without having to say it outright.
Wanderer sighs, holding out his arms. “Jump.”
“Are you serious?”
“I won’t let you fall—of course I’m fucking serious.”
You grit your teeth, wondering if it’s easier to humiliate yourself and jump into his arms or to let gravity do its work.
“Hey,” Wanderer says, gliding closer and hovering an arm behind your waist. “No stupid ideas. Just jump and hold onto me.”
It’s always unsettling when Wanderer is not acting all bratty, like you’re not quite sure if you should goad him back to being mean or watch him bristle when you point it out. It’s been happening too often recently. That must be saying something about him if his soft moments are scarier than his jabs.
Wordlessly, you reach out for his shoulder with one hand and hold back a yelp when the lack of balance causes you to slip. You hold on tight around his neck, eyes wide and heart jittery. Wanderer secures his arms, moving in one swift motion. Before you even know it, he has one arm on your back and the other under your knees.
“How convenient it must be to have a ride as your companion,” Wanderer mutters in amusement at your relieved face.
“Yeah. That’s why I keep you around,” you say as he glides upward, barely straining from your weight. He looks as unaffected as ever.
He looks as infuriatingly and devastatingly beautiful as ever.
“Ha,” his smile is all sharp, “and not because you have a little crush on me?”
“You follow me around because you do. Don’t get it twisted.”
He snorts, tipping on something a little more genuine. You wisely decide to stop ogling at his face and enjoy the view of the sky instead. The blue of his clothes and the shade of his eyes are much prettier, but you’d rather lose that than start squirming in his arms. Not when he’s carrying you bridal style and all.
Finally, he descends, hardly disturbing the grass with his grace. He sets you down, arms crossed, as you pat yourself off from dirt and stuff.
“Well?”
You eye him warily. “What do you want?”
“Some semblance of manners will do,” he says, then leans close as if he’s baring his face for you. He’s been less and less subtle recently, too.
Nonetheless, you find yourself smiling. The things he’d do just to get a kiss—it nearly makes you laugh out loud. But then he’d start getting all irritated like a cat, and you much prefer when he’s sweet like this. Sweet in his very Wanderer way, you mean.
You kiss him on the cheek. He puffs up like some proud peacock. He calls you adorable all the time, but he’s the one who’s acting like this. It’s no wonder you keep him around.
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xiao-come-home · 2 months
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Boothill relationship headcanons;
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✰ Characters: Boothill x reader.
✰ Words: ~1k.
✰ SFW+N//SFW ; SFW mentions no pronouns or gender of the reader. N//SFW section was written with fem!reader in mind.
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Warnings: THIS HAS A NSFW PART. MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS skip this section if possible. some of these hc are based on this post, since i wanted to write a little more about it.
A/N: BRAINROT gRR he truly gives me doctor by Miley Cyrus vibes. idk how to explain it but take it
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Boothill:
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SFW
he's such a gentleman! opens doors for you, pulls out a chair, kisses your hand when he sees you first for the day, it doesn't get boring for him at all. if you ignore some of his unhinged behaviors, then he's a perfect man.
like i mentioned in my previous post, he's VERY possessive of you. he does like to go to unknown clubs or bars with you to try out their best drinks in his spare time, though he doesn't have you attached to his hip (even.. if he wouldn't probably mind at all), he does keep a sharp eye on you. if a weird guy approaches you and you're clearly uncomfortable, he tries to intimidate the guy away and clearly let him see that you're his (aka placing his arm around your waist and pushing you into him), if being polite doesn't work, well, they have a rough night. not in a good way.
this man SCREAMS BACK HUGS!! since his body is like 90% metal and machines, he loves to embrace you from behind and wrap his arms around your tummy, while his chin rests on your shoulder. he misses the softness of his own skin, so having you gives him a lot of comfort; the warmth you're radiating makes him reluctant to ever pull away. boothill often finds himself touching his cheeks with his robotic arms, when they get warm enough - the feeling almost long forgotten in his mind.
speaking of back hugs: he's also very big on neck kisses, mostly giving than receiving, depending on how he feels, they're either very innocent and loving - very soft, paired with butterfly kisses, or biting you and then kissing it better, when things get steamy.
boothil finds it funny when his hair tickles you when he hugs you from behind. if he's feeling particularly like a little shit that day, he can annoy you the entire day like that, only to respond with "hmm? what do you mean? I'm not doing anything, baby!" ...don't tell him his smirk gives it away, but honestly, at this point, he probably doesn't try to hide it that well.
he DOES slap your ass when you go past him. EVERY time. it doesn't get boring for him, he likes the sound it makes AND how soft it is, bonus if it jiggles, then he's even more proud. he might offer "an apologetic massage," which you rarely agree to (but he'll try until u say yes).
if someone ever tinkers with his Synesthesia beacon, he cannot swear for his life. you might catch him trying to cook, spilling something, and then hearing loud "YOU LITTLE DAISY FLOWER! CUTIE PIE! CURSED FROG!" it's kinda impressive how colorful they can get...
speaking of his voice, he's probably able to manipulate it so it sounds the best according to your taste. although his flesh heart has been gone for so long, he still feels that familiar, warm feeling and squeeze of his own, mechanical one, when your answer is always the same - to modulate it so it sounds the closest to what it used to be, or that the current one is just as pleasant to hear.
he likes to kiss you. no matter where, or when. if he wants to, he'll get one, pressing you against him, cupping your face with one hand, and kissing your puckered lips. once you give in, he kisses you properly, caressing your cheek ever so slightly to ease any discomfort left, only to hold you tightly on your hips and whimper on purpose just to tease you more (i believe in boothill is a little shit theory).
if we assume his face is the only human part of him left (besides his eyes). In that case, he just truly loves the softness of your lips on his. he kisses you as much as he can, and will get all fussy and whiny if he doesn't get his good morning kiss, we-see-each-other-for-the-first-time-today kiss (note: this is not the same as good morning kiss), goodnight kiss and so on. yes, he could get it by himself, but he wants it from you first. he's just very stubborn.
watch out! he likes to draw blood on your lower lip when his intrusive thoughts win. he licks the blood off later, and gives it a loving kiss.
his hair is genuine, so he loves whenever you play with it, brush it, or take care of it in general. it's probably one of the very few human features of his, so if your boothill lets you carefully pamper it, let alone without flooding his cords, he's not only very impressed, but also very willing to indulge in more sessions.
finds it absolutely adorable when you wear his hat when he isn't looking. or, well, when you think he isn't looking.
N/SFW. minors and ageless blogs shoo!
the council has decided that he has a vibrator in place of his real junk. but if you're into experimenting and want him to feel a bit more, hm, natural - he's more than happy to change his parts. shape, size and pace - everything for his lady.
you can probably guess, but that's an absolute ass man. he sees you in tighter pants that hug you just so nicely and might go feral.
eats pussy like a starved man. he has no shame and licks, sucks, and fucks you with his tongue and THE SOUNDS could put the devil himself to shame. boothill always wants everyone to know that you're his, how you scream and moan for him, so in return - he never lets a drop of your juices go to waste, slurping and moaning into your slit.
he's literally so flexible, that he'll fuck you in every position you want him to. if it means he'll get deeper, he's on board. and probably on top of you too.
likes to grope you through your clothes. sounds very tame, but it really gets him going, and might sometimes cause trouble in public.. unless you WANT that trouble.
adding to the headcanon above - he truly just gets turned on by your skin, especially imperfections. stretch marks? he'll kiss them all, scars? he has them all memorized. when he touches you through your clothes, he already remembers what is where, it's like he's edging himself knowing that soon enough he'll undress you completely and see it clearly; he quite literally worships what truly makes you... you.
he. is. so. SO over when you pull on his hair. when you make out, when he fucks you - doesn't matter. DO IT and he'll go absolutely crazy, hissing in pleasure and grinding into you.
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hannieehaee · 5 months
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WANTED U
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18 + / mdi
summary: everything about your relationship with minghao was perfect, leaving you with no complaints. except maybe in one area: minghao's stoic attitude during sex, making you entirely insecure about whether he wanted you as bad as you did him, or if he was maybe just too in love with you to let you down.
content: misunderstandings, established relationship, he's very very in love with reader, he's just a bit backwards, smut, afab reader, miscommunication (shocker), oral (f receiving), penetrative sex, dry humping, mentions of fingering, etc.
wc: 5.7k
a/n: based kind of maybe a lil bit on personal experience but 100% reimagined for fanfic purposes lmao
masterlist | kofi/patreon
support me through a one-time tip! <3
You were absolutely head over heels in love with your boyfriend. There was no way to fight it - not that you wanted to. It was as if his sole goal in life was to love you. He had even told you that before, claiming that his parents had been the greatest love story he had ever seen, and that he had wanted nothing more in life than to find a love like theirs. He'd said that his father had once told him, 'live to love, and love to live', advice which Minghao took to heart.
His father was a wise man when it came to love, even letting Minghao in on the secret that all his ambitions were driven by his love for his mother. Minghao had communicated their entire love story to you soon after meeting. You had only known each other for a short period of time before Minghao confessed to you, claiming that a friendship would not suffice for his heart, which had been taken by you upon your first meeting. He would've respected your decision if you had decided to remain friends, but was relieved to hear your enthusiastic agreement in becoming his girlfriend.
Being his girlfriend came with endless perks. For one, you got to be with the absolute love of your life; a man who was never shy to express his love to you through any means possible. He was also a successful idol, something that came with its troubles, but allowed you to see and support your boyfriend in all his passionate endeavors. He'd spend every free moment tending to you and showing you what it meant to be loved. There was no world in which you weren't completely enamored by the man.
You'd only been dating for four months by now. He had already introduced you to his friends and family, proudly letting them know that you'd be around for a long time, being completely certain that you were the love of his life. Sure, it might've been a bit soon, but the moment Minghao saw you, he knew you were the one. His certainty always made you a bit shy, a reaction which he'd kiss away by reassuring you that he'd never meet a love greater than yours. It was all perfect. You felt at home with his friends and family, quickly growing used to what would now be your forever family, as you also believed Minghao to be the one and only love you would ever come to know.
He showed you love through every means possible. He insisted on taking care of you financially, while also supporting your independent and professional endeavors. He took care of you emotionally, always lending an ear to listen to your problems and lips to soothe your worries. He'd constantly feed you with words of affirmation, almost as if he'd grow sick if he went a single day without you knowing how enamored he was. He'd make love to you ... and that was it on that matter.
Not to misunderstand, your sex life with Minghao was magnificent. There was no form of pleasure the man could not achieve to give you. He had you delirious with arousal with one single touch, making you beg even when he never demanded it from you. As many of his fans guessed, Minghao was just as experienced as he appeared. There was large variety of things he would entertain in the bedroom, never leaving you dissatisfied.
The issue laid in you, truly. Although you were always enthusiastic in the pleasure your boyfriend gave you, you weren't sure you could say it was the same for him. He would always shower you with endless praise and affection in every other circumstance, but while in the throes of passion the most you could really get out of him was a few muffled groans or one or two short-lived praises. You felt as if there was a imbalance in the pleasure you gave one another; almost as if he didn't want you as much as you did him.
You had recently realized that you were often the one to begin any sexual encounter, never having to beg for reciprocation, but also very rarely being enticed by the man himself. You almost felt embarrassed at the realization, having already been feeling a bit off at his lack of reactions towards you during the fact. Was he simply entertaining you out of pity? Did it not feel as good for him? Was he not into you physically as he was emotionally? You knew he always came when being intimate with you, always letting out a lone groan of your name when he finished. It was still hard to feel confident about your sex appeal when your boyfriend never gave you much to work with. You also felt a bit pathetic knowing he gave you the utmost pleasure while you seemingly gave him the barest minimum of it.
Talking to him about it was out of the question. You knew your boyfriend thrived off of healthy communication, but he hadn't mentioned any issues in your sex life, so you felt embarrassed to bring it up. Not only that, but you didn't want to come off as desperate or ungrateful. He was your best friend; the perfect boyfriend. You didn't want to open a can of worms that would have things go awry. So you decided to come up with a plan; maybe test your hypothesis.
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Getting Minghao undressed and ready to fuck you was never too difficult. Just a few kisses and whispers asking him to please take care of you and he was ready to take charge. Currently you were in the middle of it, sitting on the couch as he kissed your neck, pulling breathy sighs out of you as you moaned his name, but received no reaction in return. You decided to act as usual, maybe gauge what got him going and what didn't. So far, he had spoken no words as he simply did what he knew you liked. He ran his hands through your body and kissed you deeply, drawing moans and whines out of you at the simplest of touches.
You felt a bit embarrassed, realizing how easy it was for him to get you going while it was the complete opposite for him. Now on the bed, he ground against you, still making no sound or any other indication of pleasure as he thrusted his hardness against you. You wondered how that felt for him. He was hard, so surely he was aroused, right? Shouldn't that equal some type of pleasurable reaction to the feeling? You weren't able to ponder on this for long, as he suddenly knelt next to bed, going straight to business against your heat.
"H-hao ... fuck!", you pulled at his hair, extremely sensitive to his touch as you usually were.
You couldn't help yourself in pulling at his hair, even grinding against his skilled tongue. You were completely lost to the bliss, moaning endlessly at the pleasure, unlike your boyfriend, whose only sounds were the slick of his tongue dragging against your pussy. If the tables were turned and Minghao was growing delirious on the feeling of your mouth on him, you'd be just as affected, getting off on the sound of his voice moaning out your name. So, you couldn't help but still feel disappointed at him eating you out with no further reaction.
However, the feeling of your orgasm overtook your disappointment, making you forget about any ill feelings and cumming against his tongue. What followed made you hollow out again, though.
He got up from his knelt position, nodding at you and asking a simple, "ready?" before undoing his pants and climbing on top of you, entering you immediately after putting on a condom.
You moaned and whined against his ear, scratching at his back at the pleasure; all things you usually did when he fucked you, but received no reaction in return. He'd give you the occasional muffled grunt, not even seeming like he was holding back, but more like he had nothing to give. It was a conflicting feeling. On one hand, you felt an insane amount of physical pleasure, but on the other, your emotions couldn't help but feel hurt by his lack of arousal towards you. Call you shallow, but you just wanted to feel like your boyfriend found you sexy, damnit!
"F-fuck, Hao! Gonna cum, don't stop. Shit!", it was easy for him to get you there, knowing all your weak spots by now. And it was just as easy for your body to take control of your mind, making you forget all worries as you came once again. He didn't take long to reach you, releasing into the condom with a grunt.
What made it worse was how sweet he was afterwards, calling you his beautiful girl and helping you clean up, only to cuddle you afterwards.
"You okay, my love? Felt good?"
Now, to any reasonable person, this would've been the perfect chance to speak up, maybe let him know about your concerns, but you just felt too pathetic. What were you supposed to do? Force your boyfriend to moan? Force him to give you the reactions you wanted rather than the ones that came naturally from him? You were supposed to accept him as he was, just like he did you. So, you responded with evasion.
"Yes, baby. Felt amazing. Love you."
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You decided to go for a different approach this time.
Within the few months that you and Minghao had dated, you had really only spent a little under two months physically around each other. His job had a tendency of pulling him away from you for extended periods of time, so you were lucky if you ever got a whole week with him. This meant that the two of you would always try to make the best of the time you did get to spend together.
Within those two months of physical proximity, you two had a healthy sex life. You had sex for the first time only two weeks into the relationship, then proceeding to have it very regularly after that. Although, you were usually the one to initiate it.
In order to change things up, you decided to stop. You wanted to see how long it would take Minghao to approach you himself. Maybe gauge what it'd be like if you suddenly took it away. Would he react then? Would it feel better for him if you allowed a short period of time for things to mellow out?
The answer was no.
Only three days after your previous time having sex, he came home from dance practice, greeting you with a kiss. Except that instead of pulling away, he kept your lips connected, grabbing onto your waist to pull you close to him. Things went pretty much as usual after that. No words were exchanged (at least not from his side of things) as he undressed you and entered you while laying on the couch.
It was insanely pleasurable as per usual. His pace was slower than normal, and you heard a few more muffled grunts, which excited you like crazy.
"H-hao ..." you couldnt help but sigh as he angled himself perfectly to hit that sensitive spot inside you. You scratched at his back, arching your back against his chest.
He made no response, only going faster as he clearly realized your end was coming. He held you close to him, caressing your body tenderly despite the rapid movement of his hips. It was all perfect, sans the thing you wanted most; his lust for you. He cleaned you up afterwards, sheepishly apologizing for jumping you with no warning, giving you a quick peck as he said it. The conversation regarding sex ended there, with him expanding about his day and you yours. Had this been progress? You weren't sure.
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Next attempt felt a bit pathetic.
You looked amazing. You needed no confirmation, you just knew it. You had bought a pretty lacy number, exactly in a style you knew your boyfriend would like. You hadn't had a chance so far to really dress up for him yet. So far, you had worn pretty panties and matching bras while being sexually active with him, but there had been no instance in which you really pulled out a whole set for him.
It felt a bit silly, resorting to perfectly trimmed lace in order to see if maybe your boyfriend would show some lust towards you. You even lit some candles, for god's sakes. This had to work, or else you'd feel like the biggest loser alive. You were a bit anxious, to be honest. You had never dressed up for a guy, but you'd heard it worked wonders in the bedroom. You knew the sex itself would be amazing, but you hoped that everything else also lived up to standard.
It wasn't long until you heard the keys unlock the door, which signaled that you should put into position. You had a matching silk robe, throwing it on as if to hide Hao's gift under a perfectly tied knot. He hadn't noticed you upon entering the room, having to do a double take to take notice of your pretty hair and makeup, way too fancy for an usual occasion.
"Love? W-what's with the look? You look beautiful," he approached you with a sweet smile, arms going directly to your waist
"Just wanted to do a little something for you, Hao. Do you like it?"
"Of course, angel. You look so pretty. Is there anything under the robe?", he lifted his eyebrow at you, hands playing with the knot.
"Find out?", you wanted to give him free rein, wanting to once more gauge his reaction. This was all for research purposes, after all.
"Oh ... Baby, you didn't have to do this ... You look gorgeous ..." he breathed out upon undoing the tie on the robe, immediately pushing it off as he ran his hands up and down your body. Yes, this was a good start. An amazing start, actually. He wanted you? That had been just your goal. His breathy sigh? God, that had you reeling.
He seemed to get distracted by the sight of your body being hugged by the expensive fabric, but eventually snapped out of it, shaking his head as if to get himself out of a trance. He kissed you after that, no longer paying any mind to the lingerie, nor to his previous reaction to you. He kissed and kissed you, same as he always did. Your moans against his lips fell to deaf ears, as he did not reciprocate with more moans of his own. You kissed him back, unable to not match his enthusiasm in making love to your lips.
What had just happened? You were going in the right track! He had suddenly just snapped himself out of it, basically willing the lust away. Had he wanted to hold back on purpose? Did you just need to incite him?
You let him kiss you for a while before gesturing for him to kiss down your neck, playing up your moans a bit and pushing your chest towards him. Eventually you placed his hands on your chest, now being a bit more direct.
"H-hao ... Do you like it? Did I do good?", okay, now you were a bit more embarrassed. You had never really delved into dirty talk with Minghao, much less submissive speech. There had never been a need since the man had no tendency to speak during sex at all - sans the times he'd check up on you. You hoped maybe he would react well to it.
"Yes, angel. You're perfect. Let me take care of you now, yeah?"
That was code for be quiet and let me get to business. Or at least that's how you took it. You were disheartened, but allowed him to continue, still enjoying his touch regardless of anything. You appreciated the compliments, but you did not feel sexy anymore. What you were feeling could better be described as childish and dejected. You felt like you'd shown a desperate side of yourself only to be met with nothing in return.
Your thoughts faded away the moment he began to drag his thigh between your legs, quickly drawing moans and cries of his name out of you. Was it that hard for him to do the same? What more did you need to do?
Logically, it didn't take him long to make you cum. You came in your lace panties, still earning a groan out of him upon feeling your cunt spasm against his bare thigh.
"Hmm, baby. Looked so pretty today ... Are you okay? Need me to clean you up?", he gave you a sweet kiss, running his hands up and down your sides in a caring manner.
"I'm fine, Hao, thank you. I, uh, what about you? Are you ... ?"
"I'm fine, baby. Don't worry about it," he smiled at you despite the obvious boner concealed by his shorts, "Get changed, angel. You'll get sticky and cold."
And that was it once again. Your outfit had given you a favorable reaction, but it died off quicker than you expected. You were back to square one all over again.
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You had one final plan. If this didn't give you answers, you weren't sure how to proceed from there.
What if you pulled a 'Minghao' on Minhhao? Would he react if you suddenly became stoic while in his arms? It felt disingenuous, and the mere thought honestly made you feel a little mean, but you had grown desperate by now. It had been months of amazing sex that you were sure was gratifying only to you.
Next time you and Minghao found yourselves in that mood, you decided to lay pliant in his arms; not react to his touches and movements the way you usually would.
It was weird, not letting him know how much you loved his touch. You kissed him back, even held him back too, but your mouth was silent, as was your body. He kissed down your neck, soft hands touching at every corner that usually had your eyes rolling back, but you persisted. There were no reactions out of you, only muffled groans just like his own. You felt some hesitance in his touches, sometimes pausing as he didn't get the desired effect from his actions. He didn't vocalize his concerns, however, only continuing his path as he fingered you. His lips never left your skin as he worked you through your first orgasm.
It had been a feat, truly. The feeling of his lips against your skin was enough to have you mewling for more. His fingers curling inside you usually had you whining his name, but this time the most you could allow yourself to muster was muffled or broken cries as he drew you to completion. Even then he didn't question you, eyebrows furrowed in confusion with the question trapped between his lips. He moved on to undo his pants, prepping you a bit before sliding inside you. He let out the lone moan he always did upon sliding through you, but made no further noise.
You were going insane, toes curling and body completely tense, trying your hardest not to react. It wasn't just the pleasure, but your intense feelings for the man. The way he felt against you and gave you all his love through his touch. You felt like crying at the thought. Which is what you did without realizing. You couldn't help yourself. The love you had for your boyfriend was indescribable, even if you had been dating for so little. He felt the same, which was something he'd always let you know on the tender nights you'd spend sleeping in each other's arms. Right now, though, you felt like shit. It was hard for you to even enjoy his touch, which was a new experience for you.
Minghao must've noticed your cries, which had been louder than you realized, instantly halting his movements and checking on you.
"Angel? My love, what's wrong? Are you hurt?", he pulled away completely, still keeping his arms at your sides in an attempt to soothe you, but pulling his still hard cock out of you.
The sudden lack of proximity only made you cry louder, sniffling as you tried to catch your breath.
"Baby, tell me what's wrong, please. I'm so sorry, I didn't- I didn't mean to hurt you. Where does it hurt. How can I make it better?"
"Why- why don't you want me?", the question left your lips before you even realized, face heating up at your own words.
"What? Want you? What do you mean?"
There was still time to run it back, maybe make some type of excuse about why you'd been crying. But your emotions decided for you, not allowing your brain to formulate a lie before your mouth was opening again.
You took a quick breather, allowing yourself to catch your breath before responding. Minghao seemed to understand this, running his hand up and down your back in a soothing manner.
"I just ... I just don't understand. I love you, Minghao. I love you so much. I want you so much. Why don't you want me back? What do I need to do? I cant ... I can't keep doing this," you had stopped crying by then, but your emotions were still heightened.
"Love? I love you. What are you talking about? I'm in love with you, you know this. Please tell me what you mean? Tell me if you're hurt. I can't- I'd never want to hurt you."
He was now sitting right by you, your legs now closer while his hand came up to your cheek, wiping one of the last few tears remaining on your face. It made you feel like an asshole. He was being the amazing boyfriend you always knew him to be, reassuring you of bis affections while being worried for your wellbeing, not once stopping to care about himself. Meanwhile, you were crying because you wanted your boyfriend to feel lust for you. It was pathetic, really.
"I know you love me, Hao. You're the perfect boyfriend. I'm okay, I just ... fuck. I'm so embarrassed, I'm sorry. I don't want you to worry about me, it's so stupid, I'm sorry, I-"
"Angel, please stop apologizing. Tell me what's wrong. You don't have to be embarrassed. I need to know what you're thinking so that we can talk through it, okay? I'd never judge you," he was sincere in his words, taking on a soft smile as he tried to welcome the idea of an open conversation about whatever was on your mind. It was now or never, you guessed.
You took a deep breath, avoiding eye contact at all costs, "I feel like ... I feel like you don't want me."
"Want you how, angel?"
"I've tried everything Minghao. I've pursued you, I've let you pursue me, I've been loud, I've been quiet. Fuck, I even threw myself at you with stupid lingerie that you didn't even care about, but it never works. You don't want me, and it's driving me insane. I'm sorry, I know it's so stupid. I don't want to- I don't want to force anything on you or make you feel uncomfortable, but I feel so, fuck, I feel so pathetic. Like you have sex with me just to humor me. Like you're giving me something and I have nothing to show in return. I'm so- I'm so sorry."
You weren't sure what you were apologizing for. It was either the embarrassment or the warm gaze that wouldn't leave your own as you rambled.
"My love ... You think- you think I don't want you?"
"You don't have to humor me, Minghao, I already know. I've made peace with it, it's just .. tonight was too much. I tried to keep my emotions out of it, but it only made me break faster."
"Oh, angel," he closed the gap, pulling you even closer to him as he put his palms on your cheeks, drawing you closer while looking into your eyes, thumbs caressing the skin there, "I think I owe you an apology."
"No!", you grabbed onto his wrists, interrupting him before he could continue and separating yourself in the same breath, knowing you could never speak your mind while he held you so lovingly, "You don't have to apologize for anything. I'm sorry. I should've never tried to pressure you, I did this to myself, I-"
"I need you to let me talk, angel, please. I need to explain myself."
"Oh. I- okay. Continue."
"I adore you, my love. You know this. To think that you could ever think I don't want you breaks my heart. It's all my fault, I should've never done this, I- I'm sorry if I ever made you feel like I don't ache for you the way you do me. I want you in ways I can't describe."
"But-"
"Let me finish," his hands were back on you, one caressing your cheek while the other ran up and down your arm in an almost sensual manner, "You think I don't think about you every passing moment? That you don't plague my thoughts every day? My beautiful girl ... You're the prettiest thing I've ever had. Holding you in my arms as you writhe under me is the biggest form of pleasure I've ever felt. You- you think-" he took a deep breath before continuing, "You think I don't think about you on my lonely nights away from your touch? That I don't touch myself thinking of you; your curves, your soft skin, the way you cry my name ..."
"H-hao ..." your breath was just as heavy as his by now, mouth dry as you heard him recite his one and every emotion towards you.
"You think you don't plague my mind at the most inopportune moments?", he continued despite your interruption, "I think of you every day. When I'm at practice, when I'm performing, fuck, I think of you when I'm having dinner with my parents. Your body invades my every thought. You beautiful, gorgeous thing. I ... I've had to hold back. Didn't want to scare you away with the impossible lust I feel for you. Every time you let me have you, I have to hold back. I can never fully have you. I don't know what it'd do to me. I've wanted you from the moment we met. I've wanted to explore every inch of your body and make you mine. But your pleasure is my main priority. Always. As long as you're satisfied, I could never ask for more. But to think you ever believed I didn't want ache for you every passing moment pains me. I ... I want to .. Can I show you? Will you let me show you how badly I need you?"
"Please .. Fuck, Hao, please, I-"
He moaned the moment he finally connected your lips, hands going crazy at the way he squeezed and caressed every inch he could reach. His moans against your lips did not halt as you whined desperately at his kiss, relishing in the speech he had just delivered to you. What you were feeling was beyond lust at this point. You felt something you had never before, having waited months for your boyfriend to finally want you the way you did him. You weren't sure if he was playing it up for you, but you didn't want it to stop regardless.
"My love," he finally disconnected your lips, "Going to give you everything. Everything I've been holding back, I- I don't even know where to start."
His eyes could not stay in one place, darting around every inch of your nude body. You had known Minghao to be attracted to you, it was something he expressed many times, but you had never seen the calm man so frantic before. His calm nature was completely gone.
"You can do anything you want, Hao. Just, please ..."
He shut you up with yet another kiss, laying you down on the bed in the process. He dragged his dick against your cunt, groaning at the feeling. You were still drenched from your ruined orgasm from earlier, and he was hard due to your prior interruption, so it wasn't difficult to get the two of you ready for each other.
"Wanna be in you so badly, but .. Fuck, you just feel so good like this angel," he was grabbing onto your thighs by now, lifting them up in order to angle himself just right to drag his cock right against your clit. His eyebrows were furrowed and his face flushed. He was a broken version of himself, with his only purpose in mind being to bring the two of you the most pleasure imaginable. You felt like an idiot for never expressing your concerns to your boyfriend, not imagining that it'd end up so favorably for you. The pleasure you felt at his lack of self-control as he played with you couldn't compare to any previous time in which you'd made love.
He separated himself from you before either of you could come, muttering something along the lines of 'Wanna savor you, my love.' He still seemed frantic, not fully sure where he wanted to touch first or what part of you to enjoy at that moment. He went from kissing your chest to rubbing your pussy with his long fingers. He put you in all positions he could think of to kiss up and down your body, waxing poetic at you repeatedly as he sighed against your skin. The occasional times in which his cock would accidentally grace against you had you burning, wanting him inside you more than anything. Now that you knew he wanted you just as bad as you did him; now that he was fully yours.
"My beautiful girl ... Love you so much. The pleasure you bring me .. You have no idea. How could I ever let you think I didn't carry a torch for you night after night. Is this okay? Is it okay to want someone this badly? To ache for you day and night, only thinking of your touch?," he was finally facing you again, close enough to invade all your senses.
"Gonna have you now, okay, angel? Gonna show you how strongly I feel about you. How you make me lose all my inhibitions."
He entered you with no further warning, letting out the groan he always did, but this time his mouth would not stop running, moaning and sighing your name against your ear, letting you know how your cunt around him made him lose his mind.
"My most beautiful, girl ... fuck. Gonna break you ... I've held back for too long ... Need you every day," the way he was fucking you was nothing short of animalistic, with both his words and the slapping of your skin filling up the silence of the room.
"God, that day you showed up with that pretty set for me? Do you have any idea how difficult it was to not pin you against the wall and rip it off of you? Make you cry as you took all of me until every single drop of my cum was leaking from your cunt? The image has not left my mind for a single moment, angel. Can't think, shit ... Can't breathe without thinking of you," despite his insane dancer stamina, his breathing was becoming disheveled as he continued to piston into you.
You had thought that Minghao had already given you all types of pleasure throughout your relationship, but now that he had finally snapped you had truly reached heaven. And it seemed like it was the case for him too. He was unable to stop himself from telling you his every thought, with his emotions getting the best of him as he fucked into you almost animalistically. His fingers were bruising your thighs as he held you with all bis might; something you thought your soft and sweet Minghao was incapable of doing.
"Hao ... I need .. I'm gonna cum, Hao, please!"
"Yeah? Gonna let me have it, angel? Love when you cum for me. So soft and pretty, all for me. Cum, my love. Cum and I'll give you all of me in return."
The thought of his cum filling you up made you lose control, cumming as your back arched almost completely off the bed. You felt like you'd ascended, being given the most intense orgasm of your life, followed by a warm feeling inside you; the feeling of Minghao's essence penetrating you.
He almost fell on top of you as he finished, breath hot and heavy against your skin.
"My love? Are you okay? Was that too much?," it only took a few moments of silence for him to speak up, showing immediate concern for your limp and breathless state.
You had been more than okay, having never felt more loved and wanted in your life. From his words to his actions, Minghao had managed to make you realize how wrong you'd been all along. It wasn't that he didn't want you, but that he wanted you too much to hold back if given the chance to fully give himself to you. But now it was all out in the open. Now you could finally enjoy each other to the fullest extent.
"I'm okay, Hao. Thank you," you felt shy in the aftermath of it, now fully processing all the words of lust your boyfriend had whispered against your skin as he fucked you into the mattress. You had seen a side of Minghao you hadn't known existed.
"Are you sure? I didn't scare you off, did I?"
"Are you kidding? I've wanted you to do that for ages. I was going insane throwing myself at you!"
He chuckled, booping at your nose lovingly, "You were making my resolve break, my love. Wasn't sure how much longer I could go without going past my limit."
"Could've talked me through it at least once, you know. I wouldn't've objected," you humphed.
"How about I make up for it now, hmm? Let me clean you up in the shower?"
"Yeah? Gonna tell me how much you want me again?", you grinned against him.
"Yes, my angel. Every single day."
a/n: not proofread and i also had no idea how to end it my bad </3
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jesuistrestriste · 3 months
Text
♡ Cooking & Cleaning; Art Donaldson x Reader ♡
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nsfw! (18+) cw: service sub!art donaldson, dom!reader, afab/fem reader, use of ma'am as an honorific, brief food play, oral sex (reader receiving), begging, handjob, brief edging, praise, degradation, multiple orgasms (character receiving), dry orgasm
wc: 6.3 k (whoops)
note: this was pulled from the most depraved parts of my brain. i refuse to be held accountable for the absolute filth this contains ! :)
⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆. ⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆. ⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆.
The very second that your key is in the apartment door and you're finally home, you find your legs nearly collapsing underneath you as you step inside and kick off your black kitten heels.
"God," you groan, shutting the door behind you before you move to peel your chic new blazer off of your shoulders. You toss it onto the coatrack nearby and bring a handful of your fingers up to your forehead to rub at it tensely, sighing deeply.
It had been a long day at the USTA (United States Tennis Association) office, and all you wanted to do was come home and see your husband.
-
After Art had lost several important and consecutive tennis matches, as well as his confidence on the court (despite his actual tennis skills still being phenomenal -- he just psyched himself out too much), he had decided to give up his life as a professional athlete.
At first, this devastated you. Not only did you love your partner and believe in him throughout his career, as well as believing in his very real ability to eventually win the US Open, but this decision of his also meant that your position as his coach would become obsolete..
You actually became quite anxious about you and Art's future at the time.. you had needed a purpose, and so did he. You both were just those kinds of people; you and him both wanted to feel that you were contributing to something bigger than just yourselves, and that you were being useful to someone or something.
Luckily, his many previous years of successful tennis playing had scored you and him a shit ton of wealth. Like, genuinely a lot. You were beyond grateful, but you still wanted a life of your own. You didn't dare to think about the idea of becoming a stay-at-home wife while he went out and did whatever he wanted. Yuck. It just wasn't for you.
Your fears and inner turmoil about this change in your lives were quickly eased once Art had sat you down about two weeks after he had left his tennis career behind. He had taken your hands in his, smiled softly like he always did, and told you that he wanted to stay at home and take care of everything in it while you went out and continued your career in the field of professional athletics.
Of course, you immediately and excitedly agreed with the idea of this new plan, and then that was that!
You two developed new lives and new roles as people over a short period of time, but it didn't take away from the love you two shared. That always stayed consistent and at the center of everything.
Eventually, after a month or so of coming home from your new job to Art doing things like vacuuming the wooden floors of your guys' expensive New York apartment, or making elaborate protein-packed smoothies for the gym sessions that you two still did together, you came to realize that the whole "house husband" persona was actually kinda hot.
He had realized it too. Quicker than you had, actually. In fact, he can distinctly remember the overwhelming feeling of heat that had pooled deep in his gut the first time he had ever served you a home-cooked meal after you came home from a long day at your new job. He had gently rubbed your sore feet that night while you ate, and then suddenly couldn't find a way to deny how this new practice of.. servicing you.. made him feel.
I mean, God, he loved doing that stuff for you.. cooking.. tidying.. pampering.. washing.. he would do it all. You knew that he worshipped the ground that you walked on—reminding yourself constantly of the time he had admitted to you during sex that he believed he would be "nowhere without you"—and you devoured the increased sense of power that came with it every. single. time. It eventually became very easy and comfortable for you to let him take care of you. You grew hungry for it.
And then this persona of his, over time, dissolved into something much more intimate..
-
After tossing your blazer on the rack and rubbing at your temples, you drag your pantyhose-covered feet across the floor and into the kitchen.
Your nose is instantly filled with the aroma of fluffy, vanilla sweetness and a bit of nutmeg. you sigh happily as you turn the corner and see Art standing over a mess of what appears to be flour and sugar in a large bowl on the kitchen counter. He looks over his shoulder briefly with a smile as he mixes the dry ingredients together with a whisk.
“Hey, hon,” he grins, before turning back to look down at his current baking project.
you shuffle up behind him and hug him, your cheek pressing against his warm upper back as your arms reach to wrap gently around his abdomen. You sigh deeply.
“Hey, babe.. ‘m so tired. It was such a long day.”
He laughs softly, which shakes you a bit as you hold him.
“What’d your colleagues do now?”
You shake your head against him, groaning dramatically.
“I don’t want to talk about it.. what are you baking? It smells good in here.”
“Nothing crazy, it’s just some holiday cookies. I found the recipe online this morning after you left.”
“How many are you planning to make? There’s already some in the oven.” you ask, peeking around his frame from behind to see him set the bowl aside and wipe his hands on the apron he’s wearing. (It was white with small pink hearts by the pockets. You got it for him when he started cooking for you everyday, and he used to feel weird about it. He said it made him feel “slightly emasculated”, but he quickly grew to absolutely adore it. It was just another way for you to claim him as your personal chef. One night before you got home, he jerked off while wearing it, but he would never tell you that.)
“I don’t really know,” he shrugs and chuckles sheepishly, “there are twelve baking right now, but I thought that maybe I could make some for our neighbors.”
You chuckle softly, your hands disconnecting from their place on his stomach to reach down and give his ass a small squeeze. He jumps a little at the feeling, embarrassed laughter bubbling up in his chest.
“Where’d all this holiday cheer come from?” you smirk, pulling back from your position against his back to lean your hip against the counter. You just wanted to look at his pretty face. Your eyes quickly fixate on the fact that he’s got a bit of flour on his flushed cheek.. It’s only a small puff and smear of the white substance near his jaw, but for some reason it starts a flame in your lower stomach. There was just something about the way he got a little messy when he cooked or baked for you.
His cheeks plump up in shape ever-so-slightly as he grins at you.
“I don’t know.. I had time before you got home- I mean, well, before i thought you’d get home, and so i thought I’d just-”
You take a step forward, nodding at his words while your body is now only inches from his. You look up into his glassy blue eyes.
“You thought you’d just.. what?” you purr, your hand coming up to caress his lower back.
He swallows thickly, briefly looking down at the mess on the counter before he looks back to you. His body temperature is steadily rising as he feels your fingertips caress him over his loose t-shirt.
“I just thought I’d make some more,” he whispers.
You lean in, reaching your other hand up to gingerly hold the side of his neck while you press a kiss to it.
“You’re such a sweetheart, aren’t you?”
He nods, slowly, his eyelids fluttering slightly at the feeling of your mouth on him.
“I..I mean, yeah, I guess.”
You lean in a bit more, sucking softly at his neck. His head lolls a bit forward, and you nip at him when the sound of his shaky breathing reaches your ears.
You pull back, a small smirk covering your face as you look up at him.
His focus darts from your eyes to your lips as he reaches both of his hands out for your waist, but he’s rudely interrupted when the timer for the oven goes off— cookies are done.
You both nearly jump out of your skin at the sound; the incessant beeping pulling you both out of the thick fog of tension between your bodies and minds.
“Shit,” he mumbles, flushing pink from his cheeks to the tips of his ears as he turns off the timer at the top of the oven and moves to hastily grab an oven mitt from the lower drawer.
He pulls open the oven door, and you step back to watch him pull the tray out and set it on top of the stove area.
He sighs, pulling off the mitt and setting it aside as he leans over the cookies. His eyes are inspecting each one, and he has a very focused expression plastered on his face. He was as much of a perfectionist in the kitchen as he used to be on the court, that was for sure.
Your body moves in to stand beside him, also peering down at the tray of gorgeous golden-brown cookies. You place a hand on his upper back, rubbing it encouragingly.
“These look incredible,” you say, smiling at him.
He nods, still inspecting them, “They look better than I thought they would.. I actually messed up earlier and accidentally added three-fourths of a cup of sugar instead of two-thirds..”
“They look perfect, don’t stress.”
He looks to you, his gaze meeting yours and then suddenly everything was back to how it was before the timer went off. His hands reach for your waist, squeezing at your hips as he looks lovingly down at you.
“Be proud of yourself, Art.. you did a good job,” you laugh softly, your hands reaching up to cup his face. He pulls you closer.
“I am.”
“Are you?”
“Mhm.”
“Good.”
You suddenly get a very filthy idea.
“Can.. can you tell me what the recipe called for?”
His brows furrow slightly as he seems taken aback by your request, his cock already starting to stir to life in his sweatpants just from holding your body. He didn’t want to talk about the damn cookies anymore.
“What?”
You roll your eyes, one of your hands dropping from his face to reach around the fabric of the front of his apron and grope him over his sweats. Your other hand moves down too, but just to gently hold the side of his torso. His whole body jolts forward and his lips part instantly.
“You’ll like where this is headed, trust me. Just talk to me.. tell me what you did to make the cookies look so perfect..”
He breathes unsteadily, his fingers digging into your waist as he feels your hand start to work his cock up to a full-blown, hot, twitchy erection.
“I.. uhm.. I just..” he breathes out, his eyes growing lidded as he absentmindedly bucks up against your touch, still trying to maintain eye contact as pleasure starts to flood his senses, “one cup of b-butter.. ngh-!.. two cups.. two cups of flour… and then- ugh!- two.. two-thir-r-ds.. of..”
His voice trails off, shaky and low and broken as he hangs his head a bit, leaking incessantly into his boxers. It was that easy for you to work him up.
You frown, “Uh oh.. come on, baby, don’t go nonverbal on me that quick.. we’ve just barely gotten started…”
A small whimper leaves his chest as he tries to finish his words, “Two-thirds, I m-mean- three-f-fourths of a c-cup of.. s-su.. sugar… one teasp’of vanilla.. and.. o-one.. teaspoon of nutm-eg.”
You smile, stroking his cock over the fabric of his pants, “Good boy.. God, you’re so pretty when you’re slurring for me..”
He moans obscenely, melting at the praise while he feels his length grow suddenly intensely hot. A certain kind of numbness starts to creep over his crotch before his hands are flying from your hips to your wrist.
“Wait! W-Wait!” he gasps, his eyes squeezing shut as he blows a concentrated shaky breath from his lips, his fingertips digging into your arm.
Your eyebrow lifts and you smile as you take in the way his body shakes and shudders as he holds it in for you. He knows how to behave.. what would make you happy.. what would make you disappointed.. After all, he’s been trained by you in more than just tennis.
“Close?” you whisper.
His body starts to slowly relax again as he regains some of his composure. He blinks his eyes back open slowly, looking into yours.
“Very,” he groans.
You pull your hands from his body, and he whines softly.
“Take off the apron. Put it on the floor.”
You’re sure you’ve never seen him move so fast— his hands reaching behind his back and undoing the tied string. Then, he pulls the apron off over his head, tossing it off to the side. He watches you study him with parted lips, and he bites onto his own.
“Now take your sweats off for me.”
He does as he’s told; his shaky fingers reaching down to slip his pants down to his lower thighs, and then down to his knees and ankles, and then he steps out of them. He kicks them gently next to where the apron was thrown, now making a mess of grey and white fabric where both items pooled on the kitchen floor.
You step close to his body, cupping his face before running a hand through his messy strawberry-blonde locks. But it doesn’t take long for your eyes to travel solely down to the bulge prominently pressing against the inside of his navy boxer briefs. You run a fingertip up and over the outline of his dick, relishing in the way it makes him shake. He was now just in his tee shirt, boxers, and white socks, while you stayed fully clothed. But not for too much longer.
"My pretty husband.." you coo to him, making his lips part to let out a few uneven breaths. You glance around his frame and notice a bowl off to the side that had remnants of the soft cookie dough from the first batch of the cookies. You smirk.
You lean forward and swipe your thumb along the inside of the bowl, gathering some of the sugary, buttery mixture on your digit. His gaze remains lidded and locked onto your face, not finding any importance in your hand's movements at the kitchen counter. You bring your thumb back in, showing him what you did.
He spares your thumb a quick glance, but then his eyes are back on yours, and then your lips, and then the way that your breasts are peeking out from the low-cut collar of your work top. You bring your thumb up to his mouth.
"Open," you whisper.
He does as he's told, parting his lips further and leaning in to encourage your finger to slip past them.
You push your cookie dough-covered thumb into his mouth, feeling him immediately begin to suckle on it; his tongue swirled over it, and his eyes fluttered shut right after they began to roll back. His brows furrow, and a couple of faint whines bubble up out of him as the taste of his homemade sweetness melts seamlessly on his palate.
While your thumb is in his mouth, you push it down softly on his tongue.
"Knees, baby," you say breathlessly.
Art knew this command like the back of his hand.
Effortlessly and steadily, he dropped down to his knees one after the other, keeping your digit in his mouth the entire time. He didn't dare let it go. He moved to sit on his calves.
"Good job.. good boy..."
He whimpered, the vibrations of his pathetic sounds causing your hand to buzz slightly.
"I want your mouth on my cunt.. can you do that for me, darling?" you purr, running your hand through his hair for a moment. He nods around you.
"Y'sh, m'm.." he mumbled, trying his best to speak while still relishing your touch with enough attention.
You pull your thumb from the heat of his wet mouth, and smirk as you watch his lips chase after it.
"What was that?"
You already had a good idea about what he had murmured, but it was just.. best to be sure.
"Yes, ma'am," he gasps out softly, his eyes glazed over.
He reaches up and pulls at your skirt, shimmying it down and over your ass and thighs, letting it fall to your ankles. You kick it aside, and lean your back against the countertop. Art positions himself on his knees so that he's on the floor in front of you, looking up at you. His hands shakily reach up to the sides of your pantyhose, his tongue licking out over his bottom lip. He digs his fingers into the taut fabric and looks up at you once more, beginning to pull them down.
Immediately you grab his wrists, halting his movements. His eyes look up into yours, worried that he had made a wrong move, but you shake your head with a soft smile.
"You can rip them."
He doesn't even mean to, but he moans when you give him permission to be a little desperate right now.
In an instant, his strong hands are pulling needily at your tights, causing them to rip from your crotch to your lower thighs. He hooks one of his index fingers into the inside of your panties, his thighs tensing up at the feeling of your wetness, and then he's pushing them to the side. His tongue rests out over his bottom lip as he leans in, holding the back of your leg with his free hand as his eyes flutter shut and he engulfs your heat with his mouth.
"Oh, fuck-!" you yelp, reaching down to tangle your hands in his soft curls, "fuck, fuck, that feels good, Art, don't stop.."
He moans, his eyes squeezed shut as he lathes his tongue up and down and over your wet hole. He lewdly sucks and swallows your slick that's quickly spilling over his tongue, trying to focus harder on your pleasure (and less on the feeling of his cock throbbing rapidly in his boxers.. he can feel himself leaking).
You remove your hands from his hair and move to unsteadily grip the countertop, your back pressing hard against it. Art hums around you in his mouth, moving his tongue up to lick sloppily at your clit. He opens his eyes, his brows furrowed, and looks up at you.
"God, you're so good at this.. you're doing so well.. i'm getting.. close.." you breathe out, studying the upper half of his face while the lower half remains buried in your pussy.
He doubles his efforts, smushing his face deeper against you, his lips pursing to suckle against your sensitive nub as his grip on your leg tightens. Art has half a mind at that moment to just scoot forward a bit and slot your ankle between his thighs, but he won't. You came first, in his mind. Literally, and figuratively.
You sling the leg that he's holding over his shoulder, giving him more access, and then you begin to feel an overwhelming, hot numbness creep over your lower half..
"ANGH!" you moan loudly, squeezing your eyes shut as your body begins to shake. Your fingers grip the kitchen counter so hard that you're afraid you'll break a nail.
"I'm going to cum, Art..!"
"Mm! Mm-mm!"
"I'm.. oh my god.... I'm... I'm-! Cumming-!" you whine, feeling your orgasm crash over you.
"MM-!" he laps at your pulsing cunt, squeezing his eyes shut before forcing them open so that he can watch the way your beautiful face moves to contort in ecstasy.
You groan and whine as your orgasm's aftershocks are uncomfortably prolonged by Art's relentless tongue, and your hands release the marble countertop to reach down and grab two soft fistfuls of his hair. You try to tug his head back from your cunt, but he just closes his eyes and presses his nose and mouth further against your core. The repetitive movements of his tongue over your folds cause lewd, wet noises to fill the kitchen.
"Art... A-Art..! Enough!" you slur out as the pleasure from before starts to melt into a prickly sting of oversensitivity.
His eyes flutter open and you shoot him a warning glance as he peers up at you.
"I said enough, yeah?" you snap, "stand up."
He immediately pulls his mouth away from your sticky body and stands up on shaky legs. His eyes look downward, guiltily avoiding your gaze, as he wipes at the clear slick covering his chin with the back of his hand.
You try to catch your breath for a moment, studying his chest as it heaves up and down -- him trying to catch his breath all the same. You reach out and take his lower jaw softly in one hand, forcing him to look at you properly.
"You got a little fucking greedy there for a minute.. didn't you?"
He bites his bottom lip for a second, nervously chewing on the inside of it as he debates what answer he could give that would result in the least amount of punishment from you.
"Did you hear what I said?" you whisper coldly, taking a step closer to him as your hand grazes against the erection standing proudly in his underwear.
His body automatically jolts forward, and he lets out a shaky breath as his brow twitches. "Yeah.. I did.." he huffs out.
You smirk, wrapping your hand around him over the dark blue fabric, "And what do you think, hm? Were you being greedy?"
He looks deep into your eyes, his lips parting as he feels you start to stroke him. He tries to stop it, but his hips start to shallowly buck against your grasp, and now he can't get any words out. He wants to, but he just.. he really can't.
You roll your eyes.
"You know what I want you to say, honey. Use that big brain of yours."
He moans softly, his hands coming up to hold the sides of your upper arms as his eyes grow lidded.
"I'm.. I was being greedy.. I'm greedy," he moans lowly, thrusting into your hand a bit quicker and with a tad bit more abandon.
"Yeah, yeah you are. You're a greedy little whore for this, aren't you?"
He nods slowly but repeatedly as his brows pinch together and his breathing picks up.
"Yesss," he says brokenly, his voice straining a little as his moans start to become whimpers and whines, "I'm.. s' greedy for you.. jus' for you.. mm..!"
You nod and smirk up at him as his face becomes pinker and pinker, "That's it, pretty boy.. good job. You like when I stroke your pretty cock?"
He lets out an obscenely loud moan as his abdomen curls in over itself a bit, his hands gripping the sleeves of your work top and pulling helplessly at the fabric as he feels a spurt of precome burst into the inside of his boxers.
You chuckle a little as you watch him visibly get closer to his climax, but then he suddenly releases the hold on one of your sleeves and urgently grabs the hand that's moving over his clothed length.
You look down to where his hand holds yours, and he lets out a filthy whimper as he pulls your touch off of him and then urgently pushes your hand past his waistband and down into the front of his boxers. You gasp at his seemingly impulsive actions, feeling your fingers finally come into contact with his slicked-up cockhead. Your fingertips just barely brush over his hot, leaking slit.. sliding over a thick glob of pre.. and then he's being sent over the edge. To the average person, the touch would be essentially imperceptible, but not to him.. not to Art. He was just far too sensitive.
Your husband lets out a startled cry as he doubles over your frame in front of him and frantically moans, his whole body trembling and tensing as his balls draw up, "I'm cumming!"
You don't even have time to really process what's happening until you feel your hand being covered in warm fluid, the substance dripping down your fingertips as Art basically comes untouched. You look up at him, dumbfounded, before you feel your abdomen grow warm and tingly. That was kinda.. hot?
"Jesus, baby," you whisper breathlessly as his hips jolt a few more times before stilling as he gulps air down into his lungs, "didn't realize you were that worked up.. that was a little quick, no?"
He moans softly, still feeling your fingers graze him inside of his boxers.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to.." he says, his breathing hitching in his throat as he tries to get the words out in spite of the pleasure still thrumming through his veins. He was still rock hard.
You smile, quickly using your clean, opposite hand to pull his boxers down to his lower thighs. His length slaps up lightly against his stomach before bobbing out in front of him, a tiny pearl-like bead of cum still leaking from his tip. He sighs shakily as he looks down at himself, and then up at you. You wrap your cum-covered hand around the base of his shaft, causing Art to jerk forward from sensitivity. He pulls a sharp breath in, his face scrunching up a little as he tries to control his body.
"I'll let you cum again," you start, watching his eyes light up, "but! you need to give me a warning this next time, okay? I want a clear warning, love."
He nods at your words, a more serious expression plastering over his face, "I will, I promise.. I.. I can give you a proper warning, ma'am.." he whispers.
And with that, you slide your hand from his base to his tip in one smooth motion, your thumb gliding over the head.
"GAH-!" he shudders forward, hissing in pain for a moment before he starts to moan again.
"You okay? Can you handle this?" you ask, your tone soft but seductive as you try to tease him but also legitimately check in. You two were always good at looking out for the other's wellbeing during your sessions together; the exchange of love and tender-care came easily to you both-- it was never something either of you had to question.
He nods, "Yeah, yes-ss, I can t-take it.." he slurs a little, watching your hand move up and down over his throbbing length.
"Look up into my eyes, darling," you purr, your hand starting to pick up speed, "does it feel good?"
He meets your eyes, his blue ones swimming with lust and desperation as he felt the beginnings of his second orgasm start to creep in, "Yes, fuck-! Yes! It feels so fucking good--!" he whines.
"Remember what we just talked about?"
He nods fervently, sucking his plump bottom lip in between his teeth as his focus darts from one of your eyes to the other. You speed up your hand, squeezing his shaft a little more to give him some pressure that you assume he needs.
He keens instantly, a loud moan rumbling from his chest as his thighs start to shake and his eyes squeeze shut.
"Art," you murmur in a seductive but warning tone.
He shakes all over, nodding his head, before his back stiffens up and he becomes incredibly tense. You keep your hand moving at the same fast pace, hoping his memory today is as good as his stamina.
"I'm going to cum," he whispers quickly, bringing his hands up to hold onto your shoulders as he pulls you closer.
You smile in approval, leaning in close to his ear and breathing warmly against his skin as you speak softly, "thank you for telling me, angel. do you want to cum for me?"
He nods, whining out a hasty "mhm". He lets out a breathy moan as he feels your hot words against his upper neck.
You press a chaste kiss there, and then you slide your hand up to gently grip his shaft while your thumb moves to rapidly swipe over his frenulum.
"Come."
And he does just that.
Art's back arches as soon as your one commanding word reaches his ears, cumming uncontrollably with an abrupt cry of pleasure. At first, his body is incredibly rigid as he lets go, his brows pinched up together as he feels the first, pulsing waves of his orgasm hit him, but then the full sensation of his release hits him and his whole body shudders deeply. He lets out little breathy moans and gasps as he relishes in the bursts of pleasure rolling over his cock. You slow your thumb down a bit as you watch him spurt rope after rope over your hand and onto the kitchen floor as he comes undone for you a second time.
"Fucking hell," you moan, now going back to stroking him fully instead of just rubbing a digit against his tip.
He grits his teeth in an instant, being pulled from his afterglow by the feeling of your hand forcing him back into a feeling of overstimulation. "Ah-! Ah!.. T-Too much, too much," he whimpers, his hands instinctively reaching down from your shoulders to push at your hand that's currently working him towards a third, uncomfortable orgasm that he's not even sure he wants anymore.
You use the hand that's not stroking him to move his hands away from your occupied one, giving him a small shake of your head.
"Hands behind your back, please. We're not done yet, okay?" you coo.
He quickly follows orders, moving both of his hands behind his back and away from his aching length, although not without letting out a sniffly whine of protest first.
"Please, ma'am.. I'm.. I can't do it I can't do it-- I'm-- AH!"
You cut off his soft moans of agony with a brief squeeze to the base of his dick, looking intently up into his eyes through your lashes.
"If you really want to stop, baby," you tilt your head teasingly, "you can always use the safeword, yeah?"
He bites his lip before he lets out a warped cry, his head lolling backwards in the same instant. You stop moving your hand.
"Art, darling," you whisper to him comfortingly.
He brings his head back upright to look down into your eyes, his face blank with pleasure; he almost looked drunk. His eyes were glazed over, his cheeks were pink, his hair was a mess, and his lips were parted to let out harsh little breaths of air as he tried to regain some semblance of being grounded in his own, ruined body.
You reach your free hand up to cup his jaw, brushing your thumb over the side of his face.
"Does it really hurt that bad? You know that you can be honest," you whisper, now a little concerned that maybe you pushed him too far.
He thinks for a moment before shaking his head slowly and swallowing a bit of drool that he realized has been collecting in his mouth for the past minute or so, "N-Just a little.." he breathes out.
You nod, giving him one soft stroke of his come-covered cock. He gasps and his torso jolts at the sensation, faint tears springing to his eyes.
"Sorry, sorry," you hum, "should we stop here then? I think maybe that would be best for you.. you've already done so well for me.."
The latter half of your sentence, that subtle bit of praise, gives him all the motivation he needs to want to unravel again.
He looks down at his still-hard cock, and then back up at you, and shakes his head. His tongue pokes out over his bottom lip and wets it as he tries to collect his thoughts.
"No.. no, I can do- I can go again, ma'am.. I pro-promise.." he slurs out, thrusting up into your hand.
You raise a skeptical brow at him and his movements, keeping your hand still.
"Are you sure? You know that I won't be upset with you if you want to stop, Art."
He shakes his head again, his lip trembling, "Please."
You smile softly and start to move your hand up and down over his cock again. Despite his previous indications that it was painful, the feeling has now seemed to morph back into unfiltered pleasure as he lets out a high-pitched moan of your name. He babbles endlessly, a mixture of pleas for more, letting out repetitive mumblings of "feels good", and "yes", and an assortment of stuttered expletives.
It doesn't take long for Art to get close again.
"I think 'm gonna come again," he mumbles, letting his eyes fall shut as his head slumps forward against your shoulder. You stroke him quicker, focusing on his hypersensitive tip as you feel a drip of precome come out.
"Oh? You want to come again?" you tease coyly.
You could be cruel sometimes. He had known that this part was coming eventually.
He shakes his head against the crook of your neck with a whine, "don't do this, please.."
You stop your hand at the base of his cock, halting his orgasm just as his load started to rise up his length. Art bites back an obscenely loud moan of protest that is dying to be let out..
"No, no no noo," he squirms against you, repetitively shaking his head as his face remains buried in your neck.
"You know what you need to do, darling."
"Please," he moans, "let me come.."
"You want to come?"
"Yes."
"You do?"
"YES..!"
"How should I make you come?"
"Can y- keep stroking my- I want my cock to be- I-" he mumbles incoherently.
You place your free hand on the back of his head, pushing your fingers pleasurably into his hair as he trembles against you.
"You want me to keep jerking you off? Hm?"
"Y-Yes-ss!" he moans out brokenly, using every bit of restraint within himself to resist the urge to move his hands from behind his back and relieve his aching parts.
He would never do that, though.. no matter how much he wanted to. He would always follow your wants and needs first. Those were most important to him.
"Ask me for what you need again. Nicely; just the way I like it."
"Please, can I come?"
"Again."
He whines, his hips involuntarily bucking up against your stilled hand wrapped around him.
"Please," he sobs, "can I please come for you?"
"Yes, honey, you can come."
You start to stroke his cock once again, and within just a few pumps Art is releasing again. Even though you can't see them because his face is still in your shoulder, his eyes roll all the way to the back of his head as he lets out a couple pitiful squirts of white, sticky liquid over your hand. "Ooh, that's it.. good boy.. are you my pretty little slut?"
When Art hears this, he isn't exactly sure what happens, but it's like the orgasm that's already halfway finished just completely starts over.
"Ohh my fucking- oh my god-dd-! Ugh! HNGH-!"
It's like every single nerve ending in his body is lighting up at once, and he can't do a damn thing about it.. he can't stop it...
His legs nearly go limp underneath him, and he has to lean further into you to prevent himself from collapsing.
Art then releases the most pornographic moans you've ever heard and tenses up in your hold all over again. You're not really sure what's happening until he--
"I'm cumming again! I'm cumm-m-ing-! Again! Ohmyfucking--! GOD!"
He whines and sobs against your body, his arms still held behind his back as you feel his cock jump and pulse in your hand again. This time, nothing comes out. It's odd because it's clear that he's cumming for a fourth time, but there's nothing to show for it.
You slow your hand but continue to stroke his length which is now covered in the creamy-white filth of his previous loads. His cock softens a little, but you're unsure when his orgasm ends because, again, nothing is coming out.
Art's frame suddenly begins to jerk around every time your hand brushes over his tip, and he lets out a hiss of discomfort through his gritted teeth and a sniffle afterwards. As soon as you hear that, you know he's done and you quickly remove your hand. Any extra stimulation and he'd genuinely start to cry. You could save that for another time.. if he wanted you to.
You move your other hand from his hair to his clothed upper back and rub small, comforting circles over it.
"I've got you," you whisper, "you did such a good job, baby. You just came dry for me."
He nods, sniffling wetly and exhaustedly.
You continue to rub his back for a minute or so in silence as he comes back down to earth; the pleasurable waves of his release's aftershocks allowing him to bask in the ebb and flow of it all as he tries to calm his ragged breathing.
"I feel weak," he groans softly.
You nod, "I'm right here, you're okay.. take some deep breaths for me, honey."
He nuzzles deeper against your neck and sighs contentedly, the fuzziness in his head starting to dissipate with your caring words and gentle touch.
"You're my good boy," you whisper, pressing your cheek against the side of his head.
"Mhmm," he hums, "always for you."
⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆. ⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆. ⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆.
notes; WOAH. ok. so this has been like months in the making by now i think..? but i finally finished it :D thank u so much to everyone who has been patiently/loyally waiting for this one after i teased it for over a month on this blog 😭 + thank u to anyone who gave me some kind words of encouragement when i had to put this aside for a while. i luv u guys !! <3
reblogs are always allowed + appreciated!
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thefallofruins · 3 months
Text
“𝑨𝑭𝑭𝑰𝑹𝑴”— [𝑹𝒀𝑶𝑴𝑬𝑵 𝑺𝑼𝑲𝑼𝑵𝑨]
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Synopsis — being Sukuna’s favourite subjects you to relentless bullying. Sukuna reminds you of your place. As his Queen.
Minors DNI Requested by anon. Part of Sukuna x concubine! reader series
Tw: smut, mentions of multiple orgasms, belly bulging, passing out, violence and bloodshed (it’s Sukuna, duh)
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Sukuna is a completely different man the day he sees your tears. Ordinarily, he would have laughed at the sight of a human crying, it seems to annoying pathetic when they do so— a sign of weakness, a sign of helplessness.
But not you, no, none of these rules apply to you. You are exempted from it, he doesn’t know why, but the sight of you crying fills him with rage. Maybe because you were his, his property, his precious concubine.
“T-They said that you’ll… discard me off someday.” You sob. The cruel and neglected concubines, though envious, had spoken the truth. He had done that to a lot of others. They held no meaning to him.
But you? You’ve grown too attached. But how could you not? How could you not when this absolute monster, this terrifying being had given you everything the world hadn’t? Affection, pleasure, love?
He had no value of lives that were of no use to him. If they served him no purpose, they would meet death. But how could he discard you? You, who belongs to him, and rightfully so?
“I hold no such intentions.” His voice is stern, he wants to rip those vile wenches apart for causing you this distress. “You…” he lifts your face, squishing your red hued cheeks “…Are mine. I don’t intend on discarding you for this eternity.”
His voice is a low growl as his grip tightens. “You are mine. For this life and the many more to come.”
He lifts you by your arm using his other hand, crouching down to your height. “Do you understand? Only you have the privilege of having me. Not those insects, and you say I’ll abandon you?”
His fingers play with the obi of your loosely held kimono, eliciting a gasp out of you. He buries his face into the crook of his neck, inhaling your scent. “To abandon you will be an act of utter foolishness, and I am no fool.”
He presses a soft kiss to your neck, followed by another on a lower spot. Your kimono slides off your shoulders and onto the ground below.
“Mine.” He growls into your ear, a hand moving to your breast, fitting perfectly into his hands and he kneads it. His other hand finds your cunt, pressing upon the sensitive nub and causing you to gasp softly.
“M-My lord..”
Your sweet voice only gives him a reason to proceed further, pads of his fingers prodding upon your entrance, your juices slowly flowing onto his fingers and he teases your entrance.
“I have made you the sole object of my pleasure and affection…” he says, hearing your sweet noises as he plays with your clit. “…and you dare insinuate that I will abandon you?”
Your wetness flows down his fingers. He knew exactly where to touch you, something he wouldn’t even try to do to the others.
“I’m sorry, m-my lord..” you speak between soft moans. His words filling you with such great pride. He had so excellently removed the doubts plaguing your mind. “I w-won’t assume such trivial things again—”
He chuckles, slowing down his movements to slow circles around your clit. “Mmh— my lord, p-please forgive me.”
A deep chuckle escapes him again, as he speaks, “that I will. Now lay down.”
Without a moment to waste, you do, skin shining under the pale moonlight as you lay on his bed, legs as he strips off his own clothes, his cock standing hard, drops of precum beaded at the tip. He teases your entrance with it, causing you to groan.
“P-Please, my lord…” you whimper, causing him to chuckle again. “Very well.” He answers your plea, slowly entering your tight cunt that welcomes the entire girth he slowly pushes into you. You gasp as you feel the tip nudge your cervix— he was too big, but you always took him so well.
“So tight.” He groans, slowly bringing himself to thrust in and out of your tight heat. “You’re made for me, aren’t you?”
“Y-Yes, my lord!” Your moan as he fastens in his pace, hands wrapping around his neck. He is merciless in pounding into your cunt, nudging your cervix till your eyes roll back and your nails dig into his skin.
“Look at you.” He chuckles darkly. “You’re truly mine. Taking me so damn well, aren’t you?” Any other would have crumbled under how relentless he is, but you take it so well.
Your moans echo in the chambers as you receive the treatment only his favourite deserves. And by the end of it, you are left in a mess. His cock and loads of cum stuffing your poor cunny full, your moans raspy and he releases load after load into you, his thumb playing with your sensitive nub occasionally, his other hands fondling your breasts and toying with your sore nipples.
You’ve lost count of how many orgasms he had pulled from you, and you don’t know how many more are to come. You simply take it, drool dripping down your cheek, nails dug into his skin, cunt pumped full, and brain numb from pure pleasure.
When he finally does stop, a stream of cum runs down your entrance, loosening the bulge in your tummy from the excess of it. He brushes strands of your hair back with surprising gentleness before he captures your lips with his and parts.
“You truly make a magnificent sight, my Queen.”
Queen. Your heart swarms with a warmth. Eyes pricking with tears. You have so much to say but you’re so incredibly worn out you can barely lift a finger.
“Shhh..” he mutters, sensing a towel between your thighs, cleaning the mess up. Then , covering your bare form with the warm blanket, he kisses your forehead. “Mine. My Queen. For all eternity.”
“Rest now, my Queen.” He leaves you be in the chambers, you want him to stay. To hold you and say it again. And again. To call you his Queen. But for now, he has something more important to attend to.
When he returns, you’ve already passed out from the tiredness. He chuckles softly, kissing your forehead. “My only one.”
Too bad you couldn’t see the sight of his bloodstained kimono or hear the screams of terror. But that was a small price to pay for hurting the Queen of Ryomen Sukuna.
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