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#(so you're telling her that there's a whole WORLD she can go into while she's dreaming??)
eternal-echoes · 3 days
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“… can you imagine how many people do not exist today because an STD destroyed their would-be mother's fertility? While some sexually transmitted infections cause minor irritation and inconvenience, others have the capacity to alter the course of human history. This is no exaggeration. If an STD impairs a woman's fertility, and a single child does not come into being, neither will his children or grandchildren. In time, it creates a ripple that prevents the lives of dozens and even hundreds of other people.
Therefore, when a woman practices the virtue of chastity, she not only safeguards her own body. By protecting the treasure of her womb, her abstinence becomes an expression of maternal love that guards the existence of countless generations. If only the idea of purity were expressed to young girls in such a way, how much easier would it be for them to see the connection between love and chastity!
The world considers such logic silly. "Don't be so uptight. Just use protection." Those who promote the outdated concept of safe sex make two grave mistakes. First, they overestimate the effectiveness of the condom in preventing disease. In one study, scientists followed four hundred college girls for a period of about five years. During that time, 6o percent of the girls contracted HPV. The scientists noted, "Always using male condoms with a new partner was not protective."1 It's too bad that the scientists didn't inform the women about the limitations of the condom before they volunteered for the research.
Secondly, it's a dangerous exaggeration to call sex "safe" because a piece of latex is involved. Imagine if a young woman approached us in tears after a broken sexual relationship. Let's say she had given away her virginity and felt devastated upon seeing her ex-boyfriend flirting with other girls weeks after telling her that he "never felt this way about a girl before." Now imagine if we consoled her by saying, "Hey, cheer up. You're not pregnant. You didn't get an STD. You're safe!"
Safe? She's destroyed.
Promoting safe sex makes as much sense as telling a child to wear a helmet if he's going to play in traffic. Just as a helmet would only provide partial protection to part of the body, the condom only offers partial protection to the whole woman. In fact, the idea of safe sex is degrading because it reduces a woman to her genitals: As long as they're protected, she's safe. How about keeping the rest of her safe?
Some may object to such an idea, arguing, "C'mon. Nobody is saying the condom protects you from the emotional aspect of sexuality." But the problem is that nobody seems concerned about that. The culture has become so jaded that we spend billions of dollars handing out condoms without teaching people the difference between love and lust.”
-Jason and Crystalina Evert, How to Find Your Soulmate Without Losing Your Soul
Rachel Winer et al., "Genital Human Papillomavirus Infection: Incidence and Risk Factors in a Cohort of Female University Students," American Journal of Epidemiology 157, no. 3 (2003): 218-26.
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crownshattered · 17 days
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|| anyways kira does NOT like it here
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riality-check · 9 months
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The eagerly awaited part 2 of the DILF!Steve concert saga is here!! Part 1, in case you missed it.
"You're not going."
"Come on! I haven't thrown up in an hour!"
"The drive to the venue is an hour and a half."
"Steve-"
"And if you throw up in my car-"
"Oh my God-"
"I'll kill you."
Steve doesn't need to see Dustin's eye roll in order to feel the full force of it through the phone.
"I'll just kill you. You'll have a headstone within the week that says Here Lies Dustin Henderson: Rightfully Murdered for Puking in Steve Harrington's Car," he continues as he packs Capri-Suns into the cooler for the car ride.
He doesn't remember ever being that thirsty as a kid, but if Anna wants strawberry kiwi, Anna gets strawberry kiwi. It helps that it's Steve's favorite flavor, too.
"I'd need a big ass headstone to fit all of that," Dustin snaps.
"Your big-ass ego would demand no less, shithead," Steve shoots back.
"Swear jar, Daddy!" Anna calls from her room, across the house because while she doesn't listen to Steve when he's right in front of her, she can hear him break the swear jar rule from halfway across the world.
He zips up the cooler, fishes a quarter out of his pocket, and throws it into the half-full soup can next to the stove.
(A quarter doesn't mean much, but Anna doesn't know that. The day Steve teaches that kid about inflation is the day his pockets become permanently empty.)
"Did she just swear jar you?" Dustin asks from over the phone.
"You baited me into it."
"I did no such thing."
Steve rolls his eyes. "You're not coming, though, are you?"
Dustin sighs, and, for all his teasing, Steve does genuinely feel bad. "I still feel like if I breathe wrong, I'll hurl, so, no. I don't think I'll manage the car ride, nevermind the actual show."
"Sorry dude."
"Don't be. Some dickhead will live stream the whole thing on Instagram, anyway. I'll live vicariously through them."
Steve snorts and picks up the cooler. He got Anna dressed beforehand, so it's just a matter of getting her to stop playing with whatever toy she dug up - Play-Doh has been the fixation of the week - in her room so they can go.
"Besides," Dustin continues, and Steve hates where this is going. "Anna loved the show, and you've got a reason-"
"Nope," Steve says, knocking on Anna's door. "Don't finish that sentence."
"All I'm saying-"
"I know what you're gong to say, which means you know my answer. I don't date."
Anna opens her door. From the little Steve can see inside, there are at least three containers of Play-Doh open and strewn across the floor. He thinks her Barbies are involved in it somehow.
"Time to go," Steve says, and he thinks, Please don't let there be Play-Doh in the Barbie hair.
"Five more minutes," Anna tries.
"Nope. Clean up and roll out."
"Hi, Anna," Dustin says through the phone.
"Uncle Dusty!" Anna shrieks, and she starts jumping up and down. "Are you comin', too?"
Dustin sighs, and Steve can't tell if it's at the nickname or if he's still cursing the universe. "No, but you and your dad have a great time, okay?"
"Can you, can you tell Daddy I should get five more minutes?"
Steve raises his eyebrows at her. Anna, to her credit, ignores him wonderfully.
"If you clean up," Dustin says, because he's actually Steve's favorite person right now, "you get to do more headbanging at the concert."
Anna gasps like Steve didn't already tell her that earlier today, and she gets to work on putting her toys away. Steve helps, of course, and he finds that there is, in fact, Play-Doh in two of her Barbies' hair.
Fun. They're going to turn into Buzzcut Barbies when Anna goes to sleep because he can already tell that they are the furthest thing from salvageable.
But that doesn't matter right now. What matters is getting Anna in the car, deploying the first two of many strawberry kiwi Capri Suns from the cooler, and making the drive to the venue, which Steve does with minimal road rage and accompanied by the Disney radio station.
Success by all metrics, really.
Dinner might as well be now, so Steve shells out a truly disgusting amount of money for overpriced chicken nuggets and fries at the venue. Anna will only eat half her portion but say she's hungry later, but that's what the snacks and water Steve smuggled in via his jacket are for.
They get to their seats, dinner finished up, just as the lights go down for the first opener. Steve looks to his left, half-expecting Eddie and his friends to be there before remembering that they won't be.
He tries not to feel too disappointed. He fails miserably.
The seat next to him, however, isn't empty. There's a note taped to the back of it, one addressed to Steve and Miss Anna, so Steve feels alright taking and opening it.
At the top, there's a messily scrawled phone number. Underneath, it says:
Here's my number. Probably a bad idea to call with all the noise. Texting works, though you should do that after the show. I'll be a little busy until then.
-Eddie
Steve puts the note in his pocket, puts Anna's ear defenders on, puts his own earplugs in, and looks at the stage, where-
Hang on.
He squints at the stage, where four guys have started playing a song that, frankly, sounds too much like literally all the music Steve listened to yesterday for him to care about all that much. The drummer is pretty small, with wild, curly hair. The bassist looks familiar. The lead singer, who is very talented but not to Steve's personal taste, also looks familiar. And the guitarist-
No way. No way in hell.
It's a total coincidence. Lots of guys have long, curly hair and heavy jewelry and big eyes and are wearing formal wear, for some reason, and catch Steve's eye, and-
"Thank you for such a great welcome!" the guitarist says, and his smile totally isn't doing anything to Steve, thanks very much.
Anna stops moving, where she's standing next to Steve, and climbs up into his lap to get a better look at the stage. She looks out, then back at Steve, then out, then back at Steve, making a face as confused as Steve feels.
Some days, he thinks he ended up with a clone, not a kid.
"I'll get off the mic in a second. I only do the talking because Jeff," the guitarist points at the lead singer, who ducks his head, "is really shy."
Jeff. That name is definitely relevant, but Steve is a permanent resident of denial.
"We fought about what song we were going to include next in our set list, so much so that we didn't decide until yesterday and had to consult a tiebreaker."
Okay, maybe Steve is a less permanent resident of denial than he thought.
"So, thank you to Miss Anna, who did great at headbanging for her first time-"
Anna whips around so fast, her forehead nearly collides with Steve's jaw.
"And to Steve, who's a big fan of American Psycho."
At the song name, the crowd loses their minds, and if Anna wasn't sitting right in front of him, Steve would join them.
Because what the fuck is happening right now?
His question isn't answered. In fact, about five more questions pop up in its stead when, during the bridge of the song, Jeff puts on a clear rain jacket and picks up a prop axe.
Please, God, don't let this traumatize my kid, Steve thinks.
Anna, thankfully, doesn't get scared. When Jeff brings the axe down, again and again, Steve's weirdo daughter fucking smiles. And giggles. It's kind of cute, actually.
When the song ends, she turns back to Steve.
"That's Eddie onstage," Steve says, and saying it, somehow, makes it real.
"I thought so!" Anna says, and she turns back to watch the show. Steve puts an arm around her waist so she doesn't fall off his lap when she bangs her head to the music.
The rest of the songs, in Steve's opinion, are better than the opening song. They're more melodic, which Steve can definitely get behind, and each of them has a gimmick onstage, all based off of various horror movies. It's ridiculous, but also really, really cool.
And Eddie, onstage, because it is the same guy who flirted with him and was so sweet to Anna yesterday, is really, really hot.
Steve has never had a thing for guitarists before. He's never had a thing for musicians before. Hell, until a year ago, he didn't realize he had a thing for men.
Eddie is. Uh. Yeah. Really doing it for him.
Steve doesn't know whether it's his enthusiasm, or the way he moves, or seeing his hair tied up, or the fucking dress pants and suspenders, or just his hands, but he does know he has to get himself in check because this is an all ages show and he's here with his daughter.
He already knows he can't add these songs to his grading playlist, not when they're accompanied by visuals of Eddie playing his guitar.
Sweet Jesus.
"Alright, that's our set!" Eddie says. "Thanks, y'all, for sticking around for us, and let's give it up for the next act!"
The crowd, including Anna and Steve, cheer as they exit and the lights go up.
Steve fishes his phone out of his pocket, fully intending to add Eddie's number to his contacts, and is greeted by not one, not two, but sixteen missed calls from Dustin Henderson.
Naturally, Steve calls him back. "Who died?"
"What the fuck?" Dustin yells, and Steve just puts the phone on speaker to save the rest of his hearing. "Did Eddie fucking Munson just personally thank you from the stage?"
"Swear jar, Uncle Dusty!" Anna says.
"Sorry," Dustin says. "But Steve. Answers. Now."
"How do you even-"
"Instagram live. Is Eddie the guy you were telling me about yesterday?"
Steve takes his phone off speaker. Prior experience tells him that this conversation has a less than zero chance of staying PG, nevermind PG-13.
"Yeah," Steve says. "He is."
"The one who flirted with you, and you forgot to ask for his number."
"Well, I have it now."
"What?" Dustin shrieks, and Steve is incredibly thankful that he didn't take his earplugs out.
"He left me his number on the seat."
"Text him."
"I was going to, until I saw that you called me sixteen times."
"Jesus Christ, Eddie Munson was flirting with you."
Steve rolls his eyes and hands a pack of gummy bears to Anna when she taps his arm. "He could have just been nice. I don't even know if he's into guys."
"Have you looked at him?"
"Wow, Dustybuns, I didn't know you were homophobic."
"I think it's the complete opposite of homophobic to try to get you laid."
"Hanging up!" Steve shouts because a part of him will never see Dustin as any older than thirteen, and no thirteen year old should ever say that.
"Text-"
Steve hangs up the call. "Can I have a gummy bear?"
"No," Anna says, mouth full, in her seat, legs swinging.
"I bought them."
She shrugs. "You gave them to me. Mine now."
Steve stares. She stares right back.
He sighs and opens a new pack of gummy bears.
With his mouth full of sweet Haribo corpses, Steve takes out the note and adds Eddie to his contacts. Before he can overthink it, he sends him a message:
I guess I don't have to ask you what you do for a living. Just so we're even on that front, I'm a teacher, and Anna's full time job is preschool.
He tucks his phone back into his pocket and focuses on making this a good experience for Anna, who somehow wormed her way into a conversation with the intimidating-looking couple sitting next to her.
Because it's totally not like a literal rockstar is going to text him back. Right?
Part 3!!
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ew-selfish-art · 8 months
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DpxDc AU: What’s an adoption paper or two between bros?
Danny is starting to realize that since Jazz left the house for university, his parents aren’t really good at well, being his parents. They’re obsessed with his alter ego to the point that they ignore his normal ego, and that uh, hurts his feelings. Like, a lot. Meal times have gotten weirder and more inconsistent, and he’s starting to wonder if they suspect what’s really going on with him.
They’ve started to say “You know you can tell us anything” these days when he sees them outside their lab (which isn’t frequent) but the normal amount of ghost hate speech hasn’t changed. If anything it’s gotten worse. Just like everything else.
Danny joined the whole-ass justice league to fill his spare time after high school and his parents are literally none the wiser. Like, he's a part time high-school senior at 17 and a full time international hero. His parents only comment on the fact that the menace Phantom is costing them a lot in airline tickets as they try and apprehend him all over the world. Hell, they caught Ellie for a second when he was in Morrocco and it got ugly fast. She's a junior member now but mostly spends her time with some doofus that has a magic traveling house.
And really, he's fine with his schedule of going to school, going ghost and making a difference, and then returning to a dramatically silent house. Really.
Then one day his new friend and co-team lead Red Robin makes a brief mention about his own childhood of neglect and Danny makes a joke, "What, no adoption papers for the homies?"
He laughs as he says it but something in his leader's eyes looks sharp, and Kon is sighing in the background something that sounds suspiciously like dear Rao you've done it now.
Next time Danny is on the Watchtower, he's brought into a meeting with Red Robin, Batman and various other JL team leaders.
"Adoption papers are very much for the homies. I've also included the option of emancipation, as you'll see in the green folder, but I am one hundred percent serious about adopting you."
"Red, you're like, 3 months younger than me." Danny deadpans.
"Adoption is for the homies and I'm emancipated. And If i'm reading Batman correctly, you're facing three outcomes right now."
"Three?"
"One: I adopt you and you become my legal dependent. Two: Batman adopts you and I become your legal brother. or Three: You emancipate yourself while allowing us to provide for you while your housing situation is sorted out."
"... Uh. Door one?" Danny is having too many feelings. Why does batman look disappointed? What is Jazz going to say? What on earth???
"Welcome to the Drake Family." Red shakes his hand up and down, the grin on his face feral and the plan towards being emancipated from the Fentons and adopted by his boss is a weird one.
But eventually, a few weeks later, he's had a pretty delicious dinner by his new adoptive grandfather-tler and is watching a movie with Tim and Kon on the couch and he's just so happy and comfortable and warm...
"Will this make Kon my dad if you two get married?" Danny laughs and it's the closest he gets to being disowned.
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famwhy · 11 months
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Bereavement
noun
/bɪˈriːv.mənt/ The state one is in when losing someone important to them
Spiderman: Across the Spiderverse
42! Miles X F!Reader, 1610! Miles X F!Reader
Synopsis: Miles is missing, and all you can think about is getting him back. Upon finally finding him, however, you're taken aback by the copy that stands beside him—the same copy that was staring at you with wide, shaking eyes full of... disbelief?
Note: this one's for my cousin. The idea actually came to me while I was rewatching the first spiderverse lmao. Who knew Kingpin was such a source of ideas?
part two.
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You saw it—on the control panel—42. Miles had been transported to Earth 42.
You belonged to 1610; which meant that Miles also belonged to 1610.
He was in the wrong universe.
Your best friend was stranded in the wrong universe.
Now, if you were a rational person, you would've called for back-up—maybe even gotten Hobie's help like Gwen had. But you weren't a rational person—and could anyone blame you?—your best friend was probably in danger, of course you would act without thinking.
The watch wasn't hard to swipe, everyone was too caught up in what had just happened with Miles to care for guarding their little 'goober' dimension devices. Tracking him down wasn't terribly difficult either, not after you knew which world he went to.
All you really needed to think about was where exactly you had to open the portal—but luckily for you, Margo was willing to help.
"You owe me for this, by the way." Her head tilted your way, lids narrowed in a sassy look you dismissed with a wave of your hand.
"Yeah, okay, what're his coordinates?"
With a roll of her eyes—that you very much thought was quite rude—she gave you just what you needed; his exact coordinates.
The assortment of colours and geometric shapes appeared before you with a few taps of your finger against the cold device, flitting across the room in a bright blur of pure chaos that hurt your eyes to look at—
—but you would endure it; if only for Miles' sake.
"This is stupid, by the way—" you turned, facing the girl who insisted on making a snide comment every five seconds, "—you're not even a spiderperson."
"Says the girl who's speaking to me through a VR headset and isn't actually here right now," you growled.
"Careful, I can shut this whole thing down right now and tell Miguel what you're planning," she returned your apprehension with crossed arms, brows furrowing even further.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," you sighed, "it's just— I'm worried about him. Please don't tell Miguel. Miles has saved me so many times, it's time I save him for once."
You assumed you must've looked rather pitiful for her features to have softened up, arms falling limp by her side as she, too, gave a sigh; though hers sounded like it stemmed from a different type of exasperation to yours.
"Just... go. Before I change my mind—preferably."
You gave her the brightest smile you could muster, hoping to god she could see all the appreciation in it—and there was a lot—before turning back around to take a step into the portal.
"Miles! I'm here to—"
As soon as you walked through, you were met with a dark room—though, that wasn't what caught your attention. Instead, your wide eyes landed on that familiar hanging bag, beat down and bits of its material flaked off.
Chained up to it, was your very own, Miles Morales. And stood directly opposite to him was... also Miles Morales?
Alright, you were aware of this whole 'spiderverse' thing but you didn't think it would be this trippy.
"...save you?"
They were both staring directly at you, however, the expressions situated on their faces were vastly different.
Miles—your Miles—had his eyes blown wide, shaky pupils not leaving your form for a second, even as he started frantically shaking his head from left to right, he still remained in eye-contact with you.
The other Miles also had his eyes blown wide. This time, however, it wasn't in warning—no—his pupils were dilated and his form stood rigid; still as a statue.
"Cariño..." he whispered; so much breath in his voice, it barely sounded like words were coming out.
"Y/N! You have to get out of here!" Your Miles yelled, pulling at his chains as though it would get him any closer to you.
You scoffed. "And leave you? I don't think so."
"Don't worry about me! You have to—"
"Cariño."
You blinked, casting your gaze back over to the other Miles—who now stood much closer to you than before. He was just an arm's length away, in fact, how did you not notice him approach you?
"Mi vida, oh Y/N..." his voice was soft as he spoke—quiet and coated in an emotion you were unfamiliar with—hand moving up to your cheek to gently trace a cold, steel claw over it.
"Hey!" The sound of metal chains clicking grew more frantic from behind him. "Stay away from her! Don't you dare hurt her!"
Either the Miles in front of you was ignoring your friend on purpose, or he genuinely didn't hear him, because he continued to do as he was doing—continued to give you shivers from the icy material against your cheek.
Then, all too suddenly, he flew into your torso, engulfing you in a hug so tight—so inextricably emotional—you stumbled back a little from the sheer intensity of it all.
"You're alive..." he breathed out—and it was then that you finally understood what the tone of his voice was. "You're really, truly alive. Oh mi cariño, I've missed you so much."
"Wha—?"
"Lo siento... lo siento." He buried his face into the crook of your neck and the surface of your skin slowly grew wet, your collar soaking up. "I didn't get there in time, I couldn't save you."
You and your Miles shared a glance.
You saw your reflection in his eyes; the look of shock on his face; the scenes that flashed through his pupils. You saw a fear in him, one unlike anything you had ever seen before.
You saw your near-death experience replay right before him.
"Te quiero—" the other Miles—the one holding you—grounded you once more with his words as he pulled away just enough to look you in the eyes and continue, "—you know that, right? I'm so sorry for not saying it before. If you hadn't— if you never— I'm so sorry."
The phrase shocked you, sending an electric pulse down your spine and rendering you utterly immobile.
"I always have. For the longest time. It's always been you. It's always—only—ever been you."
If what he was saying was true... then—?
"Y/N!"
Suddenly, the metal against your hips was replaced by the familiar silky material you were used to; the one worn by your Miles.
"Miles," you breathed out, looking all around you to see the shattered glass that flew in the wind—scattering in all different directions as the warmth of the inside abandoned you.
"I'm gonna need you to hold on, okay?"
You nodded.
Then, you glanced behind him, catching sight of the familiar geometric mask of the Prowler—sharp claws out—coming in hot and fast and furious.
"Miles—!"
"I know, mami, I know. I need you to trust me for a minute, alright? You know I'll never let you get hurt."
You nodded once more, nails digging into his dark suit as you buried your face directly into his chest. You felt yourself flow through the air, swiftly moving as the wind worked against you, pushing back on your hair as though you were its worst enemy.
It was nice. It was fun. It was... bound to go wrong.
One moment, you were safe, all coddled up in Miles' arms as he swung through the sky—the next?—
—you were falling.
"Y/N!"
(Note: I feel like I need to address this because some people seem to be misunderstanding what I'm doing with Margo.
First of all, Margo is not AT ALL being mean in Bereavement. The whole of that fic is written in the Reader's perspective (and I'll prolly end up writing something in both Miles' perspective too) - this makes her an unreliable narrator so you can't trust the way the story is being told to you is 100% accurate to the true events.
At the start, the Reader is frustrated because she knows her best friend is stranded on another universe - this makes her unfairly take out her frustration on Margo when she thinks lines like 'who always seemed to have to say something every five seconds' (paraphrased).
Margo thus responds accordingly (as she should) and although she threatens to tell Miguel, she never actually would because she is legit one of the only real ones in the movie. So no, to those commenters that were accusing me of making her 'aggressive' cuz she was black - that is not what I'm doing at all. I am writing the Reader's perspective after just having lost her best friend.
Margo is the only one helping. She is literally being kind to the Reader. If anything, the Reader is the one being rude to her but again, that's because her best friend is missing which isn't an excuse but definitely an explanation.)
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arminsumi · 2 months
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🔞 𝐀𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 | 𝟏𝟖+
𝐓𝐨-𝐁𝐞 𝐄𝐱-𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 | 𝟐
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<- 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯.
𝟑.𝟔𝐤 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 / 𝟕 𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬
𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : fem reader / Gojo Satoru / (Geto Suguru)
𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 : your ex-boyfriend claims he isn't a playboy anymore, but is he being genuine? Another date with him leaves you a mess, and you end up asking his best friend out for coffee.
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : angst, pining, drama, smut (cr**mpies, light degradation, name calling (sl*t and wh*re), c*nnilingus, bl*wjob in the backseat/risky), implied sexual relationship with Suguru
𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐦𝐞 : Heaven and Back | Often | Wine Pon You | New Rules
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You walk out of your bedroom gussied up, lips painted in a very specific shade of red.
And Shoko, laid on the couch tiredly, gapes in disbelief at you.
"Oh my god." she groans, "Please don't tell me you're going on another date with that playboy."
You act dumb, nervously touching your neck as you style your hair in the mirror some more.
"What?"
"You're wearing the Gojo Satoru lipstick."
You continue acting, "This isn't the 'Gojo Satoru' lipstick, I love this lipstick! I always wear this shade!"
She looks at you, dumbfounded by your acting, nearly laughing.
"No, that's the Gojo Satoru lipstick. I can distinctly recall his words; "That's my baby's lipstick on me." and how you giggled on his shoulder."
"Shoko, that was five years ago." you say, "It's fine. I promised him only one more date. He needs closure."
"He's had five years of closure." Shoko replies, "Angel, you're too good for him."
"He's changed!" you insist.
"No, he hasn't; I saw that look in his eyes when I saw you two on the couch. He's still a playboy, and he'll prove it to you soon enough." she says.
"I have faith in him." you say.
"How many times have I heard that?" she shakes her head, getting ready to have a smoke. "You know, Gojo Satoru has always gotten what he wants. That's why he's so fascinated by the new you; you're not giving yourself to him like you did back then."
"I have faith in him!" you emphasize. "God, just tell me I look good."
"..."
"Please. I'm nervous. He's high-class, you know. I feel like I'm going on a date with the president of the world."
Shoko sighs and heads towards the balcony to smoke.
"You look too good." she says earnestly. "He was right about that shade of lipstick on you."
Her compliment makes you light up significantly.
You fuss as you wait. Since Shoko asks, you tell her; "He ordered for someone to chauffeur me."
"Oh my god." she groans, "He's really buttering you up."
"But isn't it such a gentleman move!"
"... more like a rich boy flex." she mutters under her breath, stubbing out the end of her cigarette.
"Okay. I've got to go. See you later... um, unless I overnight by him, of course." you giggle dreamily.
"Condoms." Shoko says simply.
"He's got some."
"Bring your own, always."
"But I'm on birth control, and we've already — " you begin.
Shoko cuts you off, "I know, but have you ever heard about the whole "creampies make you fall in love" thing?"
"What?" you look dumbly. "Isn't that a myth?"
"No. Coming inside is affectionate. You're going to feel connected to him and then he'll dip when you become "too serious" for him. Just keep him at bay."
You give her advice consideration, and nod. "Okay, alright. I won't let him do it inside."
*****
While being chauffeured, you rehearse in your head how to greet your ex-boyfriend — but it doesn't help, because as soon as you're actually in his presence again, your mind goes blank and you start nervously touching at your neck and giggling to cope with his charm.
From the moment Satoru takes your hand and leads you into the restaurant, you feel like a VIP. It's such a familiar feeling; in your early twenties, when you and him dated, he showed you what it meant to be really rich.
And he was excited to shower you in lavish treatment, he loved to see you decorated in his diamonds and to see your bright smile on foreign beaches.
The effect he has on you is even noticed by the waiter, who tends to your secluded table on the rooftop. You and Satoru feel like you're in your own bubble.
"I'm serious." he says honestly, looking into your eyes.
"... you break my heart, then disappear for five years, and then come back asking for marriage." you shake your head, "Doesn't that sound insane to you? Can't you understand why I'm rejecting you?"
"I've changed."
You hum skeptically.
"Really." he tilts his head, he flicks his brow giving his expression that sad little look that really sells it for you.
"If we got married, how long would it last?"
"What do you mean? We'd be wed 'till we're dead." he grins.
You shake your head and smile at him, poking at your plate. A long silence passes.
"... let me think about it."
"... okay." his spirits lift. "But don't make me wait too long; I'm impatient." he teases.
"Too bad. I'm gonna take my time." you sass, biting a piece of meat off your fork to make a statement.
He grins at you.
*****
Food all eaten, dessert long gone. The night air feels good. Not like old times, but new times with an old lover. He knows he messed up, right? So why hasn't he apologized yet? Maybe, you theorize to yourself to justify him, maybe he's still thinking up an apology.
He stares at you from across the table, eyes hungry like a starved wolf.
"You look so good tonight." he says for the third time.
You giggle in response, "Stop..."
"I swear that shade of lipstick looks familiar." he teases, leaning over the table.
You can smell his cologne, and it entrances your heart.
"... is it?" you ask softly, pretending like you don't know what he's talking about.
He knows you're pretending, he thinks it's cute.
"You think it would look good on me too?" he asks.
You shrug like a ditzy princess, "I dunno. Wanna find out...?"
He's so quick to call the waiter for the bill, like there's a pressing issue that needs his attention.
But the only pressing issue is his hard-on pressing hot against his thigh.
*****
Giving his cock all your attention in the backseat of the car, Satoru forces his moans down so that his poor chauffeur doesn't hear through the screen divider.
You stifle a slurping sound, sliding off the tip of his cock slowly, and it makes him shudder hard. He closes his eyes, like that helps any, and tries to keep from cumming in your mouth right there.
Gojo knows your lipstick stains are going all over his cock, it drives him crazy.
Before he cums, you pull off and he mutters a small "Just you wait..." under his breath that makes you smile wide.
****
Kissy marks lead up his abs. Of course, he wants to take a photo — to preserve the memory.
"Hand here, baby. Good girl." he instructs, and in his voice right then you can hear how mature he is now, in comparison to the squeakier voice he had when you two first met.
He's not a boy anymore, he's a man. But very far from being your man, which he's trying to change.
"Lay back." he murmurs. "Spread your legs. Wider. Good girl."
Without saying a thing about it, he noses in between your thighs and shows you heaven is real, and it exists on Gojo Satoru's tongue.
"Fuck!" you clamp your thighs around his head, making him hum while sliding his tongue inside.
When you two first dated, he wasn't inexperienced — but he didn't quite know how to eat a woman out.
Five years is a long time to practice, and he definitely did. You can feel his sloped nose nudging against your clit as he kisses and sucks, sometimes nibbling softly with his teeth at your puffy lips.
Making you cum on his tongue is almost too easy for Satoru, he nearly laughs as he pulls away and licks your slick off his lips. He thinks it's a pity that he's at the wrong angle to see your eyes rolling back. But at least he sees how you throw your head back for him, and how you sound for him — like a cat, he loves it.
"Nice and messy for me now, huh?" he hums, connecting his body with yours as he crawls upwards and devours your lips.
"Mhm!" you whine, still unsteady from your orgasm, breathing frantically. "Satoru, I need you in me right now."
"Aw, but I was gonna — "
"Nowww!" you beg.
He sighs, "Can't say no to that face."
You watch intently, licking your lips, as he whips his belt off and takes his cock out. It's red from the tip down to the middle, where that familiar thick vein always catches your attention.
By your request, even though it confuses him, he squeezes his cock into a condom.
"What do you need, baby?" he asks, lowering his cock onto your pussy and rubbing it between your slicked lips.
You squeal as he flicks at your clit, then pinches your folds around his cock, making you realize his size in comparison to little you.
"I need you."
"Need me how?"
"Satoru!" you hiss annoyedly.
"I don't want to have to tease you, baby just say it."
"I want your cock inside me."
"Not nearly slutty enough." he shakes his head, drawing his cock back and forth, rubbing over your soft pussy. "You said to me in the car that you were a total, fucking slut for me, didn't you say that? Or am I imagining things?"
You start babbling, "Yeah! I'm a slut for you, I want it so bad!" you whine, "C'mon fuck me stupid!"
"That's better." he grins.
Just like how he always does, he presses his tip inside you so politely but then pushes it in too deep, making you curl like you're about to cum.
Satoru's not one to go slow for long, he'd rather pound into you hard and fast right away, to bring out that slut in you as quick as he can. Because right now, you're not nearly slutty enough for him, as he said — and he needs to see that side of you.
"Baby, get loud for me, come on." he grunts, shoving himself as deep as he can, reaching the spot that you know isn't the G-spot or your cervix, but something in-between.
"Fuck!" you almost cry, "That's so good, fuck me harder please!"
He grins, cheeky fangs on display, and goes harder until you can hardly handle it. You don't care if it hurts just a little bit, because you want to know that every inch of your ex's cock is inside you. Not just eight, eight and a half — honestly, he doesn't know where you put all of that, but he delights in watching it disappear into your hole.
"Look at you." he purrs, "How deep are you trying to suck me?"
It feels like he's going to split you in two. Sweat pours out of the both of you, bodies getting slippery.
As Satoru continues pumping his cock back and forth, in and out of you, he starts furrowing his brows together in focus — playful edge dulling as it always does when it feels good good.
"That's it, you fucking take it." he grunts, "Good girl, you're a good little slut for me huh?"
"Yeahhh I'm a good little slut for you!"
"Let me take the condom off, baby."
You know you're gonna hear it from Shoko if she knows, but in the moment you're too drunk on sex to care, and even reach back to strip the condom off your ex's cock yourself as he watches with a smirk.
"Good girl. Now flip on your side, like this." he instructs.
He slides back inside slowly, filling you inch by inch with a low groan — like he's falling in love.
And the sounds he makes as his orgasm builds up make you want to cum again, too. Each time he hits that strange spot between your G-spot and cervix, your visions sparks a little.
Hard strokes tip you over, and you lay there letting Satoru degrade you and call you a filthy slut. You'd be his anything as long as it felt this good.
"I'm so close." he warns, trying to savor the buildup.
"Cum inside me." you mewl, "Please."
"Yeahhh I'm gonna — fuck. Take my cum, be a good girl."
The broken moan he lets out as he creampies you is almost obscene. Satoru slows his thrusts as he shoots everything he has into you.
His jaw slacks, and he groans, "... prettiest little slut, aren't you? So filthy and pretty."
"I'm gonna cum againnn..." you whine, reaching down to rub frantically on your sensitive clit.
He watches you through the haze of his post-orgasm, slowly grinding his cock inside to get you there.
"Good girl."
"C-call me a slut again, please."
He laughs naughtily, "Fucking slut. Come on, finish on me. Make that cute face again, 'cute lil' whore."
Satoru always surprises you during sex in some way, this time you're surprised when he caresses your cheek as you cum. You shake and spasm, feeling each shock of your orgasm.
Panting and coming down from your high, Satoru cracks a smile.
"You were so loud." he laughs.
Reality hits you, "Oh my god, I didn't know I liked being called a slut so much!" you cover your face embarrassedly.
He rings out with laughter.
*****
After sex. What happens after sex? He's a gentleman, and that makes you tear up — not because he's a gentleman, but because he never used to be quite like this.
No, he never used to be quite like this. Even kissing you afterwards? Why was it, you wonder, that back then he couldn't love you as deeply as now, when you needed it most?
"What's wrong?" he asks.
You try to stop your crying, but it gets worse.
"Satoru." you say, sniffling, eyes pointed downwards, "I know it's been five years, but I'm still hurt."
He doesn't reply. Just awkwardly wrings his hands and sits at the edge of the bed, soft duvet covering his lap.
"I'm sorry."
"Sorry doesn't really help."
"Then what can I do?"
"I don't know." you sniffle, "Go back in time and love me. You know, I needed your love back then more than I do now." you admit to both him and yourself.
Satoru purses his lips, thinking before he speaks — but then he ends up not replying at all.
Instead, he goes to wipe your tears. Something he always did towards the end of your relationship, because you were always crying.
"I should go home."
He jolts a little. "Oh. I thought you were gonna stay the night?" he croaks. Inside, he's dreading sleeping alone again.
"No." you shake your head. "I've got to stop fooling myself. We're not getting back together, you're not more than a playboy, we're not getting married — and sex with you is better than with anyone else, but a relationship can't bank on that, Satoru."
"I'm being genuine. I told you earlier that I was."
"How can I trust you?" you ask.
"Playboys don't propose marriage." he replies.
"But you're just joking about that!"
"I'm not!" he stresses, "The last time you loved me, I was just a boy. I'm a man now and I know what I want." he says roughly.
You both go silent. Then he starts speaking again, voice softer than before.
"I love you more every time I see you."
You don't say anything back. He looks stricken and confused.
"I'm gonna go." you say.
He purses his lips tightly, looking frustrated that he can't get through to you.
"I'll take you home." he says quietly.
*****
Shoko is just digging around in the freezer for therapeutic ice cream when you come into the entry way.
"You look dreadful."
"Thanks."
"Bad date?"
"The worst..."
"Still love him?"
"... yeah."
"Marriage?"
"I'm in love, not stupid." you reply.
Shoko chuckles. "Come on. Let's catch up on that series. I'm not on-call." she cheers for herself. "We can binge the whole thing."
"Shoko, where would I be without you?" you sigh appreciatively, flopping on the couch next to her, mascara smudged off and all.
"Staying the night with a playboy, probably."
"Can't argue that." you sigh, "Shoko, I'm so dumb for him, what do I do?"
"Wait. Strike at the right moment."
"I'm not a cobra."
"Buy a cobra. Let it loose on him."
"Your humor is so dark, Shoko. I love you."
"Love you more."
*****
Meanwhile, Satoru is with Suguru; who is listening to his sulking best friend.
"I'm so dumb for her. What do I do?" he groans, "Shoko's probably poisoning her against me as we speak."
Suguru thinks deeply. "Shoko..."
"I know!" Satoru nearly starts crying again. He's being so dramatic, it's hard to take him seriously. But Satoru almost never cries. So Suguru seriously thinks about solutions to his problems.
"Shoko!" Suguru realizes.
"I knowww!"
"No, Satoru, Shoko!" Suguru emphasizes, like he's just made a breakthrough, "Shoko is the answer to all your problems!"
"Ew. I'd never date Shoko."
"You're so dense. I'm not suggesting that. Shoko's her best friend, and she listens to whatever she says, like you listen to me."
"You have a point... I'm listening."
"See?" Suguru chuckles, "Now, here's what I think you should do..."
*****
"You want me to talk to Suguru?" you shake your head. "How would that help?"
"He's his best friend. If you want to find out if Satoru's no-good, you go to the best friend."
"Suguru would rather die than expose Satoru. They're not like regular best friends, they're soulmate best friends." you say, nervously touching at your neck.
Shoko shakes her head. "Are you scared to talk to Suguru or something? What actually happened between you two back then? You never told me."
You go silent and wide-eyed. Shoko's jaw drops open.
"No way. Holy shit. Oh my god. You and him...?!"
"... it was just once."
"Holy shit! Was this before, after or during you and Satoru together?"
"I'm loyal as a dog! It was after... I was feeling, um, revengeful, and Suguru was feeling lonely one night... so..."
"Suguru actually did that?! Did Satoru find out?"
"We promised to never talk about it again. You know... Suguru was so nice about it. I remember he laid me down and said "Don't worry, just cum on my tongue" or something. Ugh, he was so hot. He fucked the life out of me — I could barely fucking see straight after."
"Too much information!" Shoko plugs her ears.
You look up at the ceiling dreamily. "He's thicker than Satoru."
"My best friend is a slut!" Shoko cries.
"I am!" you cry back dramatically.
The two of you burst out laughing wickedly.
"To sluts!" Shoko toasts with an ice cream spoon.
You toast with her, "To sluts! The sluttier the better!"
"Are you gonna talk to Suguru, then? Or are you scared of your inner slut coming out?" Shoko asks.
"I'll do it. It'll be fine. I'm sure Suguru doesn't look as good in real life as he does in photos..." you reply.
You exchange a look with her. Immediately, the two of you stalk Suguru's social medias and —
"Seriously? Who doesn't have a single social in this day and age?!" You curse, only finding photos of Suguru with Satoru.
"That's just like him."
"Maybe he has a Linkedin."
"You're desperate."
"Yeah!"
"Wait, here's something...?"
You investigate further.
"It's private?!"
Shoko bursts out laughing with ice cream melting on her tongue.
"Comedy!"
"This is seriously annoying. I'm gonna friend him." you say.
Shoko looks at you. You look at Shoko.
"You wouldn't."
"I would."
"You're CRAZY."
"I am!"
"Let me watch, let me watch."
"Okay. I'm doing it."
*****
Satoru is mixing another over-sweetened, non-alcoholic cocktail to be sipped on as if he's drinking his sorrows away.
And Suguru? He's laying on the couch, ghosting social medias that he has no account with, happily enjoying a video of traditional cuisine when suddenly he sees the most outrageous, random, and bizarre notification from his mostly-dead private account.
He makes a suspicious side-eye, thinking it can't be real.
Friend request from @ 𝐘𝐍
@ 𝐘𝐍 wants to send you a message.
@ 𝐘𝐍 hey suguru 😊
"What the fuck." he whispers under his breath, blushing in a panicked kind of way.
Immediately, hot memories of you flood his mind. He sits more upright on the couch, glances nervously to check what Satoru was doing, then looks at your message again.
His heart races.
*****
"This is stupid. He's gonna leave me on read."
"Yeah. I forgot Suguru was notorious for that." Shoko sighs. "Operation: Suguru is a failure, then?"
"Yeah."
You set your phone down and continue binge watching a whole season of a trashy series on Netflix.
Your phone vibrates thirty minutes later. You check it without thinking, then scream so loud it startles Shoko right out of her zen-like Netflix mood.
"NO WAY."
"Is it him? What did he say?"
"He said 'hey'. He's online."
"Well say something!"
You panic, "What do I say?"
"Ask him for coffee! In a non-romantic way!"
"Okay."
wanna go for coffee sometime?
@ 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐢𝐞 is this about satoru or us?
it's about satoru
@ 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐢𝐞 riiight
i'm serious 😠
@ 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐢𝐞 because i wouldn't mind if it's about us
"WHAT." you scream with Shoko.
"REPLY TO HIM."
"I DON'T KNOW HOW."
"GIVE ME YOUR PHONE."
Shoko clacks her nails against the screen viciously, replying to him as you watch her type.
"That doesn't sound like I wrote it."
"Well sorry for being grammatically correct."
"Make it sound sillier."
"There."
Shoko sends it. You watch and wait with bated breath, ignoring the climactic scene on the TV because Suguru Geto was far more attention-grabbing.
"Oh my god." you clap your hand over your mouth. "Is that sexual? Is he being sexual?"
"I have no idea, Suguru's an enigma."
"Do you think Satoru is sitting with him? Are they playing us?"
Shoko shrugs. "I don't know, but I'd read that message if I were you."
You look back to your phone.
@ 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐢𝐞 sooo coffee where and when?
"SHOKO WHAT DO I DO."
"I don't know."
"SHOKO."
"I DON'T KNOW. I'M STUNNED."
"ME TOO."
"I bet Satoru is cackling next to Suguru right now."
"I bet not. Listen to how sultry he is! That's three o's in there!"
Shoko thinks. "Yeah, but Suguru is always sultry. I think they're pulling a joke on us."
*****
Satoru is dozing off while his best friend texts you. Suguru's not resisting his smirk; it's plastered on his face.
@ 𝐘𝐍 tomorrow? 2pm sound ok? 🙈
@ 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐢𝐞 sounds perfect.
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© 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐢
𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.
𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐞.
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unclewaynemunson · 6 months
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Pt2 to this post
'Is something wrong?' Nancy asks, not long after the two of them have taken their familiar spots on the hood of Steve's car. They're basking in what might be the last warm sunlight of the year, looking out over the quarry, at a safe distance from the edge.
It's become a tradition the two of them share, ever since they reconnected back in March. It calms them both, to just sit here and take in the view, no one around but each other. Nancy is one of the few people Steve can share a comfortable silence with: sometimes they sit here quietly for what feels like hours, side by side, listening to music or to nothing but the birds singing around them. But they also have their best conversations here: it's the place where Nancy entrusted him she wanted to break up with Jonathan; it's the place where they talked about their shared past and decided they would always love each other as friends; it's the place where they finally talked about Barbara in a way they couldn't when they were younger. It's where Nancy talked about the ghosts still haunting her and Steve talked about how lonely he sometimes felt.
Steve huffs. 'How did you guess?'
'When you frown, you always do it with your whole face,' Nancy notes. 'So it's hard to miss, really.'
Steve glances at her side profile. There's a serenity to her features that's still relatively new. It means she's healing, slowly learning how to be happy again. It means she stopped waiting for the end of the world and started believing in a real future again. It makes Steve proud of how far they both have come.
'I had a fight with Eddie,' he confesses. 'And with Dustin, I guess.'
'What happened?'
He sighs. 'It's complicated.'
'Wanna tell me about it?'
The look in her eyes is kind and inviting. Steve hesitates. He wants to, but he doesn't know if he can. It's a risk. It's scary.
But he can't imagine Nancy Wheeler ever being careless with his secrets. He can't imagine her judging him, can't imagine her being as small-minded as most people in this town.
He was planning on telling her anyway, because things had been going so well with Eddie lately and – no, he shouldn't think about that right now. But maybe it would actually be nice to talk about it with Nancy.
'So, um...' His throat feels tight and his hands are sweaty. 'I recently discovered some things about myself. I-' The words get stuck somewhere on the way to his mouth, and he clears his throat.
Nancy doesn't push, but only gives him an encouraging nod, waiting for him to find his voice again.
'I found out I like boys,' he finally manages to confess. 'And I need you to know that – that that doesn't mean that what I felt for you wasn't real. It was. I loved you, and now I fell in love with a boy. And-'
'Steve.' Nancy's hand suddenly covers his, causing him to finally jerk his head away from the view over the quarry, to focus on her face again instead.
Her eyes are wide, and she squeezes his hand.
'You don't have to explain yourself to me,' she tells him. 'We're good. But thank you for telling me. For trusting me with this.'
Steve heaves out a relieved sigh, and Nancy smiles; it's that genuine kind of smile which reveals all kinds of dimples and soft lines across her face.
'We might be more similar than you thought,' she tells him, a faint blush spreading over her cheeks.
'Really?' Her words make his breath catch in his throat. He squints at her, trying to see her in this new light. 'Are you saying what I think you're saying?'
She shrugs. 'I don't know. I'm not sure yet,' she admits. 'Still figuring things out.'
'Take your time, there's no rush,' he tells her. 'But...' He bumps his shoulder against hers. 'When you're done figuring it out, talk to me, okay?'
She nods. 'Okay.'
For a while, it's quiet between the two of them. Some kind of raptor circles high above them in the sky. They both follow it with their eyes until it disappears among the tree tops west of the quarry.
'Is it Eddie?'
Steve blinks dumbly a couple of times.
'Wha- what?'
'The guy you were talking about. The one you fell in love with. It's Eddie, isn't it?'
'Jesus, Wheeler, what kind of sorceress are you?' Steve exclaims.
Nancy laughs again. 'You're not being as subtle as you think,' she tells him. 'The two of you have been hooking up for a while now, haven't you?'
Steve huffs dramatically. 'This is unfair. You know everything; I can't even tell you my own secrets anymore!'
'So what happened?' Nancy asks. 'You said you had a fight with him?'
'It's fucking stupid,' he sighs. 'Dustin was getting way too excited about the fact that I was gonna be hanging out with you, so I told him I was seeing someone. Next thing I knew, he was telling Eddie all about how I was seeing a girl.' He waves his hands around to make annoyed air quotations. 'I wanted to tell Eddie it was a misunderstanding, but Dustin was there, so I couldn't out us just like that, and he looked so betrayed and heartbroken... He didn't wanna listen to me.'
Steve sighs; he still can't manage to forget that look in Eddie's eyes when Dustin delivered the big news. 'I wish I would've talked about what I felt for him earlier. I should've been honest when I had the chance, y'know. But I was afraid he wouldn't wanna label what we had, that he wouldn't feel the same way – and now we're in this whole mess. God, he must hate me right now, Nance.'
To his surprise, Nancy gives him an unexpected slap against his arm.
'Ouch, what the hell was that for?!'
'What are you even doing here with me, Steve? You should've gone after him, tell him how you feel!'
'I tried, obviously, but he didn't wanna listen to me!'
'So make him listen! You're in love with him, he obviously feels the same way about you, and you let him leave to wallow in a broken heart he doesn't even need to have!' She rolls her eyes and slides off the car, adding something under her breath that sounds suspiciously like an exasperated 'Boys!' before she pulls Steve off the car as well. 'C'mon, time to get your ass over to the trailer park. Right. Now,' she says through gritted teeth. And, well, Steve knows better than to argue with a determined - and truthfully quite terrifying - Nancy Wheeler.
Read the last part here Taglist: @withacapitalp @ultimatedreamer104 @irregular-child @jcmadgirl @estrellami-1 @myguiltyartpleasure @hallucinatedjosten @jaybren @thew1ldblueyonder @melodymeddler @alycatavatar @zoeweee @lolawonsstuff @fairy-princette @saramelaniemoon @phirex22 @krazyperson @xxsky-shockxx (I only put people on this list who explicitly asked to be tagged. That's really no problem, I love to do that so dw about asking, but I got a lot of relatively vague reactions to the previous post that i'm not gonna dissect and interpret, bc I don't wanna clog anyone's notes unwanted. So just to be clear: i consider it a huge compliment if anyone asks for a tag but please do it clearly if you do!)
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inkskinned · 1 year
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there's this video you've probably seen already where a woman is shaking in front of a microphone and delicately tries to ask - how can i make my husband listen to me, i've tried everything, i don't want to seem ungrateful and the other man laughs - the problem is that you married a man, we're only listening 25% of the time and we only understand 5% of that! and the audience laughs and the woman laughs and you just sat there, phone in your hand, letting the sound of it echo
and the thing is that people make think-pieces about it (isn't this one of them) and satire versions and "flipping the script" which is good and fun but at the end of the day, there's some truth in that man's response about men-not-listening. and you have tried to language that feeling for years, this sense that you can only take up 33% of a conversation before others view it as being "dominating".
it's not that they aren't listening, it's that the action they're taking is purposefully silencing. it's different. you accidentally-don't-listen a lot; just because the world is loud and you're distracted. you don't mean anything by it. and the truth is that the man who spoke is relying on that to be true of you; the way it's true of everyone. but there is a different undertone to his kind of not-listening. what he means is they don't respect you and you shouldn't expect them to. there is a difference between oh shit i forgot to take the trash out and why didn't you remind me to do it, just like there is a difference between i didn't realize you wanted to go out this weekend and why do you expect me to plan things why can't you just tell me where we're going.
and the thing is that it isn't just him, and it's actually not just because of your gender - your skin, your class status, your weight, their ableism - it happens often. so often it feels like a tightness around your throat and a weight in your stomach. you're not even "really" allowed to be upset about it, because to them it's a joke. and they laugh. and you know exactly the amount of work that goes into every conversation. how you have to work to condense down your thoughts into intelligent, crisp soundbites; worried someone will try to swoop in and cut you off. and there's this sense from everyone else - oh stop being so sensitive, are you really upset just because they weren't listening and you don't know how to say the way that feels when it happens constantly.
there's that video of the science summit where a woman in the audience finally says let her speak please! and the whole crowd bursts into applause and the man leading the summit holds up his hands and bows his head and says oops, sorry! like what he did was awkward and embarrassing, a little social gaffe that happens easily. later in your meetings, you're asked to take notes, and you don't say anything, you just hear let her speak please! ringing in your head and know that you'll never be brave enough for that kind of thing. and besides. think of all the people who agree this was a one-off, he just got excited and all of the people who say one man is not indicative of all of society
at the dinner table you're talking about someone you don't like and how he's not good to his girlfriend and how she always has to remind him to put the effort in and before him, she was glowing with curiosity and passion but now she just seems... tired, unhappy. that he likes the way she burns out; she stays home and takes care of him and their 2 kids. and your father sniffs and says that men take a while to learn those kinds of things. and you just stare at him and think about your childhood and are like - no wonder i turned out like this
and you want to say - there's no fucking secret school or mystic form of communication. i was not sent to Rearing a Child University. i did not graduate from Getting Chores Done College. i ask questions and i listen and i pay attention, because that's basic fucking human decency. it stems from respect, and how i respect others and their agency. i clean the house because someone should clean. not because it comes "naturally".
hell, you had to google "how to boil an egg" the other day, just because you usually make them scrambled. you can never remember which of the 2 bathroom cleaners make chlorine gas, only that two of them definitely do. you've accidentally bleached your clothes. it took you like 3 years of self-teaching before you figured out how to actually cook things correctly - for that whole time, you burnt or undercooked everything. but you did teach yourself; just like you taught yourself how to listen with empathy. just like how you taught yourself to think before you speak. to be kind first, to be better at communicating. it seemed like a good thing, an adult thing.
the joke the man in the video makes is that women say i'm fine! when they are not fine. and you think about the 150 conversations that happened around that; about how she probably has had so many arguments with her husband. how she said i'm upset you don't take me anywhere and he got mad at her because of course i do, you made me go to that stupid restaurant like last week and she probably said that's not what i'm saying and he said now i'm supposed to be psychic or something and she said no of course not and he said how am i supposed to know what to do when you don't even like everything and she said i do like things and he said well how am i supposed to win? and her pastor probably told her to be more grateful because they do things at all, even if she has to plan them and her mom probably told her that's just how men are honey and she probably cried over her journal, trying to figure out why the fuck she "has everything" and is still so bitterly, horribly unhappy
and how, in your life, for so many reasons, you looked down the barrel of another argument; of explaining yourself and being vulnerable and begging for help again. how many times you just said i'm fine because it was better than doing that again; it was better than wringing yourself out when it's literally easier to just pretend. because he wasn't going to listen. your father wasn't going to be better and your boyfriend wasn't going to be better and your boss wasn't going to be more respectful.
and you sit in front of a video of a woman shaking, looking horrible and guilt-wrought that she's even asking this question. and you know; deep in your heart - that's you. in a different life, you are her. you've stood in her spot. and you had to listen while someone else cackled - why would we bother to notice when you talk?
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rynwritesreid · 2 months
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I am obsessed w Ryan Gosling wearing a necklace with his wife’s initials on it to the Barbie Premiere!!!! Can we see Spencer doing the same thing, maybe to the office or a team dinner ? 😍
A/N: this is such a cute idea, and if I am being honest this is defo something early to mid season Spencer would have done. Thank you for the request:)
Summary: it’s basically as requested. I have added in some detail about other women flirting with him and that’s why he decides to wear it, but he does still wear it to the office.
Content: fluff. Fem!reader. Other people flirt with Spencer, but he doesn’t reciprocate.
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Spencer was aware he got attention from other women; he knew he was attractive. He never flirted back, or really gave anyone else the time of day and he was very open with the fact he was in a very committed relationship with you. You were also not prone to jealousy, you didn’t really like other people trying to flirt with Spencer, but you understood he was an attractive and very intelligent man. 
Spencer though, he had become to hate it. He didn’t understand why people didn’t care he loved you, that he was in a relationship with you, and only wanted you. He, being the ever-intelligent man he is, had come up with a solution.
“Hey, I have something to show you.” Spencer reached into his pocket and pulled out a medium sized box. “Before you get too excited, this isn’t a ring. It’s a necklace with your initials on it.” 
“Are you going to wear that?” you asked with a smile, feeling a warm flutter in your chest as you looked at the delicate necklace in Spencer's hand. The silver chain glinted under the soft glow of the evening sun filtering through the window, and the initials intertwined beautifully, a testament to your bond.
“Yeah. Yeah, I am. I want everyone to know who my heart belongs too.” 
And with a tender smile, Spencer carefully fastened the necklace around his neck, the cool metal resting against his warm skin. As it settled into place, he stood up and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close in a tight embrace. You could feel his heartbeat against your chest, steady and sure.
"I love you," Spencer whispered, his voice filled with sincerity. "And I want the whole world to know that you're mine."
*
The next day, Spencer turned up to work wearing the necklace. JJ was the first to notice, her eyes scanning the necklace, wondering why he had suddenly started wearing jewellery.
"What's that, Spence?" JJ asked, tilting her head in curiosity. Spencer smiled, his eyes lighting up as he adjusted the necklace instinctively.
"It's for Y/N," he replied proudly, his voice tinged with a newfound sense of determination. "I want everyone to know that she's the one I love."
JJ's gaze softened as she took in his words, understanding the significance of the gesture. She nodded approvingly, a small smile playing on her lips.
"That's sweet, Spencer," JJ said, her tone genuine. "I'm happy for you both."
Derek had overheard what JJ had said to Spencer, and while he also did think it was cute and he would never tell a man that wearing any jewellery wasn’t masculine, he still wanted to tease Spencer a little. 
"Hey Pretty Boy, since when did you become a fashion icon?" Derek teased, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he sauntered over to Spencer's desk. Spencer rolled his eyes good-naturedly, used to Derek's playful banter.
“Oh, you think I’m a fashion icon because this, Derek?” Spencer grinned, a playful glint in his eye as he adjusted the necklace once more. "Well, let's just say I'm setting a new trend."
Derek chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. "Alright, Reid, if you say so. Just don't let Garcia catch you. She might think you're stealing her accessory game."
Spencer laughed at the thought of Garcia's reaction, imagining her excitement at seeing him embrace a new fashion statement. It felt good to have his friends' support and light-hearted teasing about his gesture towards you.
No one else seemed to care, Garcia had done a squeal of excitement when she saw the necklace and realised the initials were yours. But other than that, no one seemed to fuss over it.
*
Though he had noticed that he friends and colleagues didn’t seem to care about his necklace anymore, he had noticed how other women would interact with him. They seemed to glare at the two initials dangling around his neck and back off.
Spencer found himself almost amused by the reaction of the women who used to flirt with him. Their glares held a mix of disappointment and frustration, as if his simple act of wearing a necklace had somehow dashed their hopes. He couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction at their reactions, knowing that he was making it clear to everyone where his heart truly belonged.
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astroboots · 7 months
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omg tbh grumpy bored Miguel just having to sit, wait, hand over his credit card and then carry bags from lingerie store to lingerie store is so important to me and my daydreaming lmaoo. Punishment fits the crime imo!!
I also love the idea of him going solo and buying lingerie he likes and leaving her little presents because A) if she likes the pieces then perfect!! or B) if it’s not her taste then it’s perfectly okay for him to rip them of her and she doesn’t even get mad 😏😏
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Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x reader
Astroboot’s Masterlist | Spiderverse Masterlist
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When you had asked him to come with you to go shopping for lingerie, he had been thrilled.
Why wouldn't he be.
It had sounded like a great way to spend a few hours of on a lazy weekend together.
In his mind, it'd be you half naked, parading in scanty underwear for his eyes only.
A private fashion show, except sexy, instead of boring, where you'd be wearing a lacy piece that would barely cover your ass cheeks for him. A sheer peer of white panties that would leave nothing to the imagination. A frilly pair that was begging for him to rip them off right then and there, in the changing room.
He hadn't know then that it would be like this.
That apparently, in lingerie stores, men aren't allowed in the changing rooms. That he'd be banished in the lounging area, sat in a pink velvet armchair so tiny, it must be made for dolls that he can barely squeeze his ass into.
He's sitting here, exiled to this depressingly sad space of other bored husbands and boyfriends, who are half dozing off or staring at their phones like dreary zombies. Meanwhile he's hunched in on himself like a shocking elephant trying to fit in a goddamned teacup.
Not for the first time since he arrived in this world, the thought strikes Miguel that your world is a dystopia.
Because what other way is there to describe a world where one is supposed to sit sit mere feet away from their partner, while they get undressed and he's not allowed to look. Not allowed to touch. Not allowed to...
Shock.
This is torture. Why is he left out here like some abandoned dog out in the streets, forced to imagine what you look like in that tiny dressing room.
Forced to imagine you naked, with nothing on but a bra as you look at yourself in the mirror, and nothing he can do about it. Except sit here, as his dick stirs between his legs at the thought of it. Nothing to do but be tortured at the thought of you and your hands cupping your breasts as you try to decide if it's a good fit.
At the way you'd spin in front of your own reflection, and the way those sheer lacy panties he picked for you to try, that splits in the middle, would part as you move.
His fangs itch in his mouth at the thought of it. Fingers gripping into the arms of the armchair, as he resists every instinct to rush to his feet and break into your dressing room. Press you up against the wall until you're flat against it. Every inch of him pressed along yours, your legs wrapped around his waist, spreading you wide open as he --
"Miggy."
He breaks out of his reverie. Blinking up to see your face gaze down at him.
"I'm done," you tell him, showcasing the big shopping bag like a treasure.
Reaching over, he takes it from you. "What did you get in the end?"
"All of them. You've ripped so many I don't have anything nice to wear anymore except my old granny panties, so I figured I needed a whole new collection," you say a little pointedly as you serve him a side eye and steer him out of the shop.
He shakes the bag to peer inside, and the familiar white cotton and cherry patterns of the panties you wore this morning peeks out from the other wrapped items.
"Are those the panties you wore here?"
"Mhmm," you hum absentmindedly as you continue to steer the two of you towards the exit of the mall.
It's probably not easy for you to do, cause Miguel is larger than you, and the place is crowded, but he's too distracted to be more helpful to you in this moment.
Images of you flit through his mind. Of the cute sheer panties you'd picked up earlier hugging your hips even as you're walking next to him in this moment.
"Which one are you wearing now?" He has to swallow down the saliva flooding his tongue so he can ask the question.
Training his eyes on the bag, he tries to sneak another peek, even though every other piece has been carefully wrapped in pink tissue paper. "Is it the pink one? or the red ones?"
You cock your head slightly to the side and observe him with an amused smile lingering on your lips.
"Nope," you tell him, still with that casual smile.
"The sheer lacy one then?"
"No, not that one either."
"The baby blue?"
You shake your head and he frowns. This game of 20 questions is getting a bit too drawn out for his liking. And he doesn't quite get why you won't just give him the answer. Still there's only two more guesses left.
"The black satin?"
"No."
"So the--"
"I'm not wearing that one either," you finish before he even can point out the final option.
His eyebrow quirks in question. "What do you mean?
The gears in his heads are turning but not fully comprehending what you mean by that. He saw the ones you wore this morning in the shopping bag, and if you didn't wear any of the ones you bought then--
"I'm not wearing anything."
... Shock.
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Dedication & Credits: To my most beloved @thirstworldproblemss for always having the patience to listen to my unhinged thoughts. She had the most delicious thots about what happens minutes after this.
How Miguel would be too impatient to wait until you made it back home. How Miguel would have you pinned against the wall in a semi-secluded area, all: “don’t worry about it, nena. I’ll know if anyone’s coming, and we’ll be long gone before they get here.” But then being so distracted by you and the feeling of you wrapped around his cock that you nearly get caught anyway, and it’s only because you notice in the last second before discovery and tap him in alarm that makes him manage to haul you out of sight before you got caught.
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weird-is-life · 3 months
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steve request🩷🩷
soo reader is drunk and at a party. maybe someone at the party calls steve who is her bestie to come pick her up. he’s out with eddie, robin and nancy at the time and they go and pick her up. because she’s drunk she’s so clingy with steve and doesnt want to be away from him and the rest of the gang make fun of him for it. he loves it really tho🩷
Ty for the request, lovely💕! Hope this is okay, warnings: fluff, use of pet names, mentions of parties, drinking, getting left alone by friends at a party, (0.6k)
Steve finds you sitting with your head down on the stairs of the house. The closer he gets to you, the louder the music is and he winces as he remembers how he used live for these kind of parties.
Now looking at you, he can only think of it as something he hates. Sure, the dancing, the drinks are fun, but getting left alone by friends isn't. Steve can't even count, how many times he was left alone at some party. It's too many.
He hates that your friends left you alone, but he's glad you called him, because he can now make sure you're gonna be okay.
He approaches you carefully, so he doesn't scare you, "Hi, sweetheart."
You immediately cheer up, lifting your head up quickly. You smile big at him and basically throw yourself around his neck, almost knocking him to the ground.
"Woah, woah, I'm happy to see you, too," Steve chuckles and hugs you back.
"Stevie, what are you doing here?" you ask happily. You called Steve to pick you up, which you clearly don't remember anymore.
"I came to take you home," he tells you amused, "c'mon let's get you moving."
Steve stands both of you up and you don't let go off of him, even as he starts to walk you to the car. And he's okay with that, he doesn't mind, that you've leaned with almost your entire weight against him.
What gets him a little flustered are your words. You start whispering all kind of nice words, compliments to him, that he's sure, you would be too shy to say sober.
By the time, you get to the car, Steve's cheeks are burning. He curses under his breath, because he knows, he's going to be teased even before he steps a foot into the car.
And he's right. Straight away Eddie, Robin and Nancy grin at him. You notice the three of them and smile drunkenly at them.
"Hi guys, you came, too?" you ask as you plop yourself without a care in the world next to Robin sitting in the back seat.
"Hi babe, " Robin greets you, while Steve squeezes in the seat next to you.
Your attention immediately goes from Robin back to Steve. You slide closer to him, as close as you can and you almost end up sitting in his lap. They all laugh at that.
"I missed you, Stevie, " you whisper, or more like you tell him very loudly, so the whole car hears it. Steve chuckles, because you were together few hours ago.
"I missed you, too." Steve tells you and puts one arm around you. You snuggle impossibly closer to him.
"I didn't sign up for this cuddle session, when I agreed to drive," Eddie mutters from the front of the car.
"Sorry, Eds. Did you want a hug, too?" you ask innocently.
"No, no, it's okay, you just keep hugging Steve. Lord knows how much he loves it," Eddie teases Steve again and Steve just glares at him. But it's true. He loves being close to you, maybe it's because he loves you. And maybe he'd get to hold you close more often, if he had the guts to confess his feelings to you.
"I love it, too, Stevie," you state and hide your face into Steve's front. It takes you only a few minutes to fall asleep, completely at ease in Steve's arms.
Steve can only smile and hold you tightly, as the blush comes back to his cheeks. He ignores the teasing smirks and looks from everybody.
Steve will survive the teasing, if it means he gets to hold you close. Anytime.
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nouvxllev · 10 days
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CAN I DO A REQUEST..
Jenna x Reader
Summary: R gets high off their ass after an argument w J, J gets home (xtra tired) w R drunkkkafff, but even in a drunken state, R still treats J like a literal princess, no matter the circumstance they're in cuz R loves J sm
LOVELOVELOVE YOUR WRITING SM.
-🦦
i (do)nt care!
Pairing: Jenna Ortega x Gn!Reader
Summary: request!! ^^
Words: 3.5k
Warnings: literally drinking tears away, on the verge of an alcoholic and stressed out reader, readers the sweetest but also dorkiest, bittersweet stuff but the author is trying to sound funny above most of it
a/n: one of my recognizable anons, thank you for requesting!!! APPRECIATE YOU SMMM
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You're a shitty person at times, like having quips come flying out of your mouth like a 7th grade asshole. You don't know where they come from, but they came from something like maybe a stressful week.
Like people not knowing when and how to shut the fuck up, angry customers with blonde hair and a penchant for that pixie-cut hairstyle pestering you all day because you allegedly forgot their order as if you weren't new to the whole running a coffee shop thing while on a minimum wage!
The internet seriously romanticized it too much, it's becoming a hassle to know which job to take when all you want is something relaxing and pays well.
Job hunting was a pain in the ass more than you are.
But then there's that lovely and caring girlfriend of all that makes it all bearable even if you're on the brink of insanity. The one who makes everything okay with literally just her presence. If there were a worldwide contest for the best and most understanding girlfriend, you knew Jenna would win it hands down.
You'd sooner try to stop a bullet train with your bare hands than even hurt her in the slightest. You loved her all too much to even do so.
But somehow in your own fucked up, seriously-like-actually-what-the-actual-fuck-were-you-thinking way, you managed to mess that up too.
You had an argument with Jenna as soon as you walked through the door the both of you shared. (It was because she accidentally broke your Minecraft bed and now it wasn't placed beside her. Again, you were stressed, and everything piled up. Even if it's dumb ones.)
You still remember the sound of her voice, heartbreaking is all you could say. (Again, dumb argument. Why did you even bring it up as if it was some huge problem?)
So now you're here. Drinking all your sorrows away like it would magically bring Jenna close and sing some we are the world shit for the rest of your living lives and kiss.
It was moments like these when you question if you were dropped on your head as a baby multiple times and no one even bothered to tell you.
I mean, arguing over a Minecraft bed? Seriously? Maybe you should take up lobotomy without anesthesia.
You still remember saying, 'Fine! Go away and see if I fucking care!' like something out of a bad soap opera and then she actually went away.
And you do care. Very much so.
It's safe to say you spent 30 minutes crying on the floor before picking your ass up to get a cab and come up with a dangerous coping mechanism before you eventually spotted a bar and decided you'd start drinking.
And of course, being that one person who never drank before in their entire life without having to chase it all down with water the soon it hits your tongue, it tasted bitter.
The bar was quiet with a hint of peoples voices going up and down alot, screaming alot, and the occasional drunkard barging in with their work attire.
You'd like to think that you're none of these people, but your the person who argued with literally the love of your life that you vowed to never hurt over something so dumb and tried drinking it all away.
"Ffffuck..." you murmured to yourself. Your eyes burned like hell, that was a nice addition to a headache.
Your head was down on the counter, your fingers gripping the shot glass as if it was your last moment on earth.
"You've ordered two bottles of whiskey and a fuck ton of tequila shots in the past hour, something wrong?"
Let's see, I've been fighting sleep as if I've disrespected my ancestors, job hunting is literally chewing me like I'm flavored bubblegum, tired, stressed, and most importantly, I managed to upset my one and only girlfriend who only gave me nothing but pure happiness and love! So, I'm fucking not, thanks so much for asking!
But you can't say that to someone who's also working minimum wage at a bar in New York. Living in New York is hell enough, dealing with fucked up customers like you is already going to be the next problem.
Because what can you really say to someone who's just trying to do their job? They don't need to hear about your self-inflicted drama.
You hear the bartender sigh. Not unlikely because you've probably been groaning and whining for the past few minutes.
"Let me guess, gotten to a fight with your significant other?"
How in the hell did he know that!?
Your eyes widened, immediately sitting up straight. "Holy shit, you're a wizard!" By the way your voice slurred and literally no one on earth would have that as their first thought, you're drunk.
The bartender chuckled, cleaning off another class and chucking it in the sink. "Not quite. Just seen my fair share of broken hearts. Kind of comes with the job."
You shake your head, "Nope," you popped the P, "definitely a wizard."
"Wanna tell me about them?" He placed another shot glass your way, "On the house, juice, though. You shouldn't be drinking anymore."
Taking the glass of juice, you swirl it around absentmindedly with your hand perched on top of the table and carrying the weight of your head. People say don't talk to strangers, but they never really said to spill your guts over to them.
With a sigh you down it all.
"Her name's…" Oh, right. She's an actress.
You really shouldn't be going around telling people you're literally with America's Idol when you kept your relationship with her private until she's ready to go public.
"Her name is, uhm, Jenny." Fuck, she's gonna kill you if you tell her this story. But it does put a very stupid smile on your face.
"Pretty name."
Your eyes lit up like never before. You were passionate for her, how could you not? "She's pretty, very pretty—you wouldn't know how to describe it yourself, you'd have to write verses upon verses to."
"Have you?"
"I'm still writing. Everyday."
The bartender nodded with a slight smile to his lips.
You stand up straighter. "She's this—talented person with one of the most dangerously charming brown eyes that resembles a nebula. Her smile, oh—her smile is one of the most incredible things to witness. She could make a devil weep and laugh with her, it'll make them regret their sins in an instant." Your voice was warm, clear, not even a trace of drunkenness whenever you're talking about her.
"It's not just her looks, or her smile, or whatever, she has a brilliant mind you could never dissect. Tears were never a challenge for her, she's brave, braver than anyone I've ever seen. She's a kind and romantic soul, an old one at that, but romantic nonetheless. Not just to me, but to everyone around her. She cares for everyone around her." You didn't notice you started crying halfway through.
"Dreaming was never a problem when I'm around her, though it felt like reality was greater than anything I've ever slept in. She's just the most gorgeous and incredible girl. She sees right through me, through everything, but she still loves me despite all my flaws and fuck-ups."
You pause. "But tonight, I got us into an argument so stupid, like so stupid and then I burdened everything I was feeling on her. Before I knew it, I yelled some things at her that I didn't really mean and she was out the door."
You'd think you'd be fine after literally spilling everything out, but no, you just slump back again in defeat like some pathetic hopeless romantic loser.
You facepalm yourself. "Give me a bottle."
"You shouldn't be—"
"I'll pay you 100$ no change needed, just please give me a bottle." You were acting like one of those drunkards you see on TV shows where the character gets horrendously fucked over.
One of the all time low for you, you've really outdid yourself.
You hear the bartender sigh and place another bottle of whiskey. "Business is business."
In one go, or maybe one shot glass, you were back to words stumbling and your brain feeling like fizz.
"All I know is I screwed up big time, and now I'm sitting here feeling like the world's biggest idiot for doing something like that to literally the love of my life!"
"Well, is she—"
It happened in a flash.
Or rather it happened in a second by how fast your mood changed to serious to straight up bawling your eyes out and gripping the bartenders collar.
"What the hell do I do, John!? Is your name even John!?" You cried, even breaking down and making a mess of yourself in front of the population of this bar.
"ImessedthefuckupandIdon'tevenknowifshesgonnaforgivemeohmanwhatthehelldoIdo!?" You swayed him back and forth, it's amazing how he isn't calling for security and escorting you out.
"OKAY, OKAY! Calm down, shit!" He immediately grabs your hands and gently pries your fingers from his shirt and sits you back down.
"I feel like the—" you hic "—worlds biggest asshole and my girlfriend thinks that too!
"She's—"
"I still love her with all my heart! I'll do anything to be with her again, I'm so fucking serious, anything I—!"
"She's right behind you, man!"
You stop.
You turn around.
"Oh, shit."
You murmured. It was like your brain was stumbling on a delicate thread of soberness and drunkenness. Jenna looked like the most finest pair of blobs.
Jenna looks tired, exhausted, stressed. Her eyes are glistening with tears, and her nose carries a reddish tint to it. You didn't even notice that she was wearing your shirts with one of your jackets.
"Oh, love!" You come crashing down on her as you stood up, embracing Jenna into a warm hug.
"Y/n, you're crushing me—"
Jenna used to love your hugs, even if they were totally crushing her. Oh, you were so fucked.
"Sorry, sorry," you mumble, stepping back slightly but your hands lingered on her shoulders, offering a small massage to her stress. "Is that you, Jenna?"
She looks up at you. There were visible dark circles under her eyes and glint of past tears that trickled down her face.
"I'm... I'm so sorry, Jennaaaaauuhh!" you cry out, her name stretching as you bawled your eyes out in front of her, words tumbling out of you before you can even stop them.
"I didn't mean anything, or any of it! I was stressed, people were so mean to me, but that isn't a valid excuse for me to just..." you blew a raspberry for dramatic effect, "blow it up on you. Please don't ignore my hugs, you always adored my hugs! Oh, God, Jenna, I'm so sorry!"
You were still talking before Jenna could even get one word out, "I love you literally sooo so so much I was a fool for even—hey, how'd you know I was here? Fuck, you shouldn't be here! I can't let you know that I was drinking, turn around!"
"Y/n," she sighs, reaching up to cup your cheek in her hand, "Let's just go home. You've been here for an hour."
You nod frantically, not knowing if that was meant to be as an I forgive you gesture or an I will tear your limbs from muscle to tendon and taxidermy you into the most horrendous positions after we get home gesture.
"I'll get the door for you!" You shout while stumbling over your own feet as you rush to get the door.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
By the time the two of you got home safely without you trying to insist taking over the steering wheel when you're completely blacked out of your mind, you're still clinging onto Jenna as if she was the one going to fall on her own feet.
"Y/n, what are you doing?"
Jenna looks up at you, your whole figure sprawled out in front of her like a starfish.
You turn around at her like some superhero who came to save the day, vision blurry from the light. "The moon looks suuuper close tonight. What if you'll get burnt!?"
"That's the porch lamp, Y/n."
"No, it is not—!" You look up. Oh, shit it is.
"Oh." You take Jenna's hand, giggling away your blatant stupidity with a goofy grin, "God, you're so smart, can't believe you're my girlfriend."
But Jenna just laughs. It's everything to you, a sweet symphony blessed with those close with her.
"I like 'ur laugh, Jenna." You whisper to her, hands in your pockets while you watch her struggle with the keys.
She doesn't respond but with a nod. Your heart sinks for her—she's that exhausted and it's all because of you!
Finally, she manages to get the door open with your heart stuck in your throat while Jenna leads the both of you inside. The house was warm, toasty, but it left remnants of your argument with her.
You steel a glance at her, her eyes cast downward while she struggles with her own jacket.
"Oh—here! I'll get your coat," you offer, your hands trembling slightly with your own coat hanging from your forearm. "Annnd I'll take care of your clothes—wait, did you have dinner yet? I can whip up something for you!"
Without Jenna's judgement, you hurry up with a tail stuck between your own two feet to Jenna's closet, throwing everything out and getting some nice and comfy clothes for her. Not knowing you went to your closet instead of hers.
"Jenna!" You run towards her, pretty fast for a drunkard without falling over, "Shit everything looks like hell for me—anyway, what do you want for dinner? I can literally make anything, just say the word!"
Jenna still stands in the doorway, looking up at you. "You can't cook dinner, love, you're drunk."
She called you love! Yes!!
"I'm not drunk. I don't have my hiccups anymore, my vision is not that impaired and I can walk perfectly fine. You just saw me run!"
"You mistook a porch lamp for a moon and tried to protect me, Y/n."
Noooo! Back to the first name basis already!?
"Well—"
"You're sweating even if the air condition is turned on, your eyes look red so is your face."
"Okay, maybe—"
All you heard was a sigh before Jenna's lips met yours. Soft and delicate, it was the effect she had on you. You can melt like winter bathed in sunlight for the first time by the touch of her lips on yours.
"Earth to Y/n?"
Your eyes were still closed even after she pulled away, what an idiot you must've looked like.
You blink.
"Oh—oh, that's me. I'm Y/n." You cleared your throat. "Here, your clothes!" You bounced back almost immediately, but you swear your heart is still fluttering like crazy.
Jenna took the neatly folded pile of clothes on your hands, "Let's just take a shower, okay—"
You're practically bouncing with energy and utmost passion to help out your girlfriend with a simple sentence coming out of her mouth. "I'll draw a bath for you! Even scented candles and bubbles—wait, let's get you on the couch first."
Jenna smiles at you. Oh, how you've missed her. "You know, you don't have to do this, baby." She murmurs as she makes her way to the couch with your hand between hers, sinking into the soft cushions with a relieved sigh like she was a plushie.
"But I want to," you respond softly, handing her a bottle of water and arranging pillows for extra comfort. "It's the least I can do."
Fuck, she's too adorable. How in the hell did you manage to get into an argument with this perfect girl?
"I'll be right back, baby. Just relax, okay?" You reassure her, giving her a quick peck on the forehead before eagerly skipping to the bathroom like your life depended on giving your girlfriend the most luxurious bath of all.
It took a long while before you got everything in place. It was all 50% work and 50% taking a rest because you almost tripped and fell into the bathtub, eaten shit on the floor and the bath bomb, mistook rose petals for blood, almost dropped your phone into the water, and took numerous breaks to calm your vision and heartrate down.
Returning to the living room, you find Jenna lying down with her eyes shut, looking cozy and content.
Yet she was still tired.
Visible traces of exhaustion were etched on her face, her eyebrows are slightly creased even in her REM cycle, and her hand is curled into a fist as she constantly twists and turns in her sleep.
You wince at the sight.
You approach her quietly, gently brushing a strand of hair away from Jenna's face. You watch her breathing even out, her chest rising to her breaths. She looked dangerously ethereal.
"Y/n?"
How long have you been staring at her for?
You smiled, getting into the couch with her, wrapping your arms around her soft body, hoping that it felt like comfort to her like how she felt like undeniable solace to you. She was cold, very cold, but you couldn't help wrap your arms around her.
"Hey." You murmur, planting a soft kiss to her neck, "You okay? I drew a bath for you."
"Just for me?"
"Mhmm, why?"
"Aren't you going to take one? You reek of alcohol, baby."
"Harsh."
She laughs at you, sitting up and pulling you along with her. "Take a shower with me, there's enough space for two."
You smirk at her, "Ooooh, sexy."
Jenna could almost burn holes in your face, rolling her eyes with the same smile as yours, "We are not having sex, baby."
"Oh." You wince as you get up, taking Jenna along with you, "But seriously?"
"Seriously, you reek."
"And I thought you love me!"
"I do, just not the smell."
By the time you both got into the shower, you were marveling at Jenna's figure.
She seemed almost too flawless, simply too gorgeous not to appreciate fully. You could almost cry at the sight (which you did). She was too perfect not to.
Jenna turned to you, her wet hair cascading from her shoulders as you sat behind her, massaging her shoulders to relieve any stress and tension in her body. "You alright, baby? You're... crying."
"Sorry," You wiped your tears away with a light laugh, "You're too perfect, how could I not!?"
Jenna leaned into your touch, letting the warm water and scented candles warm her spirit as well as heart, the tension melting away under your gentle touch. "You're pretty perfect yourself, Y/n."
"Compared to you, I'm no one."
"Now that's the dumbest thing you've ever said."
You paused in your ministrations. "I made you cry, Jenna. Over something so stupid." You let your arms fall to her waist, wrapping them in a tight hug as you bring her closer to you, burying your head on the crook of her neck. "'M sorry. I shouldn't have blown up everything on you. I didn't mean anything."
Jenna sighed, her hands finding yours cuddled around her and intertwining each finger with hers. "I know you're just tired—"
"You are too. More tired than me but you never harmed me like how I harmed you." You whisper to her, your breath shaking, "I'll do better, Jenna. I'm sorry."
She hummed, turning her head to plant a delicate kiss on your cheeks. "I forgive you, Y/n. We all have our moments, you aren't any out of the ordinary."
You hummed softly against her skin.
"Also, please don't go out drinking again, okay? It's gonna turn out a bad habit for you."
"You smoke, Jenna. We aren't that different."
Jenna narrowed her eyes, "I will drown you, Y/n."
You laugh, placing a kiss on the corners of her lips. "I'm just joking!"
You continued to massage Jenna's shoulders, feeling your own stress and tension melt away as you kiss every patch of her skin.
"How come you still treat me so well even when you're drunk?" Jenna adjusted her position as she nestled between your legs, her own drawing up to her chin.
You scoff, "For the second time, I'm not drunk and I love you too much not to."
"That's a stupid reason."
"Excuse me?"
"What were exactly your exact words... Oh, 'Go away and see if I fucking care?'"
"You know I didn't mean it!"
"I do. But I wanna hear you say it."
You couldn't see Jenna's exact face, but you know she's wearing a shit-eating grin with the most stupidest and cutest dimples around her smile.
"I do care for you, Jenna. So much. I was a dumbass for saying that, a dick, even."
Jenna laughed, leaning in to rest on your shoulder, her hand gently guiding your head to face towards her.
She pressed a soft kiss to your lips. "I love you."
"Well, I care for you." You kissed her back.
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a/n: im surprised that this was so short also im back! my schedule is hectic and very stressful but im still alive for the most part
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yandere-fetish · 3 months
Text
Yandere Ballerino X Female Reader
Part One
warnings: slight stalking, obsession,
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Yandere Ballerino visits his regular gym and while lifting weights, he comes across a cute (H/C) woman; You. He can't take his eyes off you while you stretch your limbs out, getting ready for the intense workout you're about to put yourself through.
Yandere Ballerino is too focused on your assets to realize he's half-ass weight lifting. It gets so bad that his personal trainer, who comes back from another client, has to yell his name loud enough to catch his attention, which in turn catches your attention.
You two lock eyes before turning away.
Yandere Ballerino swears his heart bursts from his chest at your quick look. He dubs you as shy beauty now.
Yandere Ballerino can't help but blush red after your sudden expression when you notice his naked body. He automatically wants to see more of your facial expressions and experience different faces from you.
Yandere Ballerino gets mad when he's forced to focus on his strength training instead of the pretty thang that’s working the stair stepper at the moment. He continues to sneak peaks at you when his trainer wasn't paying attention— which was rare since the trainer was dedicated to his job.
You never notice the wandering eyes that stall on your figure, nor do you hear the forlorn sigh coming from his mouth at the sight of your ass bouncing up and down.
Oh, how he could only see the sight of you bouncing on his dick— wait.
What is he thinking? He shouldn't be sexualizing you! He shouldn't be paying attention to the way your breasts move when you jog on the treadmill or the way your waist looks so flexible when you're exercising on the balance ball.. but how can he stop when you're all ready so tempting on the elliptical?
He silently lamented over what other workouts you could make tantalizing.
Yandere Ballerino becomes a mess when he can't find you in the gym after so long. It gets to the point where he cancels his session with the personal trainer and asks the front desk about you.
Yandere Ballerino immediately whispers your name when the receptionist tells it to him after sliding a hundred dollar bill his way.
Yandere Ballerino walks away after getting what he needs from the receptionist. He grins and repeats your name as if it were his new mantra.
“(Y/N).. (Y/N). *smiles* It suits her.”
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It's been a whole week since he saw you.
Yandere Ballerino has been non stop distracted since he saw you for the first time. Wondering about you keeps him from getting his much needed sleep, focus on staying in shape, practice for the numerous positions and steps of the upcoming shows, and even having his nutrition off balance.
He was becoming obsessed with you and he's never even spoken a word to you.
Yandere Ballerino finally expresses his feelings to his teacher and mentor, desperately needing the advice.
“Teacher.. I don't know what to do! She plagues my mind with every second I'm not near her! I can't even pirouette without thinking about her!”
“Hmm.. and you're serious about this girl?”
“Yes! I only know her name, but she won't leave my head! What am I supposed to do? I can't sleep, I can't eat— I can't even practice right anymore!”
“Find her.”
“What?”
“Go out into the world and find her. Decan can hold your position for a few days— but nothing longer than a week! After that, if you can't find her, you must forget her.”
“Oh! Thank you, Teacher! I'll make sure I come back in new spirits!”
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Yandere Ballerino constantly searches for your presence everywhere. He went to the malls, the salons, the stores, and even the few parks littered around, but he still couldn't find you.
His spirits were low and the expression on his face said it all; he'd never see you again.
Yandere Ballerino was on his last leg when he walked into a coffee shop and instead of buying a drink, he ended up wearing one.
Just before he could freak out, Yandere Ballerino sees the face of his attacker and instantly melts. It's you! It's (Y/N)! The girl he's been looking for for five days straight! God has finally answered his prayers.
He silently thanks God for what he's gone through to have the two of you meet before hearing the feminine gasp and apologies from the cutie (you) in front of him.
“I am so so sorry, sir! I promise I didn't mean to…”
“It's all right… if you let me take you out for dinner?”
“Ah, um. *blushes deeply and avoids gaze* Me?”
“*smirks* Is there anybody else around who spilled their coffee on my very expensive shirt?”
“I— I'm sorry! I really didn't mean to! I should have been watching where I was going.”
“It's okay cutie.. as long as you agree to meet with me for dinner on.. let's say— Friday?”
“Okay.. *blushes* I'll guess I can go out with you on Friday since I messed up your shirt.”
“Great! Here's my number. I'll text you, (Y/N).”
After receiving your phone number, Yandere Ballerino began sweating bullets, hoping you wouldn't catch his slip up. It was too late now to regret it, so Yandere Ballerino just gives you a dashing smile and strolls right out of the coffee shop without a coffee.
You were too starstruck at his handsome appearance and his tall physique that you didn't catch your name falling from his lips without you speaking it first. You were too happy to finally have a date after so long that you were seeing stars instead of people. Your heart races and your palms are sweaty, but you try not to get ahead of yourself since it's only a date.
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Do NOT steal from my blog. I say this so everyone can enjoy my stories without the hassle of plagiarism or infringement.
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pathetic-sapphic · 10 months
Note
Arcane characters and aftercare?👀🤤
Aftercare with the Arcane characters
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VI likes to make sure you have everything you need and pampers you as if you are royalty. She feeds you bits of chocolate, makes sure you drink water and cleans you up. Afterwards, she likes to cuddle with you and discuss what the whole experience was like for you. She always needs to make sure you were completely okay with everything she did and wants to know if there is anything new you'd like to try next time. Vi's goal is to please you and make you feel good, so seeing how happy and relaxed you are after the deed is done means the world to her.
Just like that, baby, drink up. Don't want you to get dehydrated haha, I know that took a lot out of you. Here, have some chocolate, I got you your favorite. No need to thank me, you know I'd do anything for you, sweetheart. So, how was it? I wasn't too rough, was I? Do you want me to be more gentle next time? I know you like it rough but I don't want to risk hurting you, okay? Good, now just relax and let me take care of you, baby.
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JINX is always bursting with energy after the two of you are done. She has a lot of stamina so you need to remind her that you cannot keep up with her and that you need rest. So she directs all her energy and focus into taking care of you. She gets very clingy after sex and keeps running her hands all over your exhausted and flushed body, she loves the way it makes you whine so softly. Drags you off into the shower and then lets you take a nap on the couch while she goes out to buy some takeout for the two of you. She is very quick as she doesn't want to make her sweetheart wait for her long and when she comes back, she feeds you and cuddles with you on the couch. Always lets you know how much she appreciates the trust and love you give her.
What is it, toots? Don't tell me I already wore you out? Okay okay, let me just cuddle with you for a bit and then we'll go shower, sound good? Of course it does! Tell you what, how about after we shower I make a quick run to Jericho's and get you your favorite? Gotta spoil my little trinket, you're just too cute! Consider it a reward for being so good for me today, alright? Hey, don't go hiding that pretty face from me, baby! Aw, you're so red it's adorable, makes me want to pinch your cheeks. But really, you were so good for me today, yknow that? Good, I'd hate for you to think any differently.
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CAITLYN never wants you to worry about anything, especially when you're this vulnerable and tired. She brings you food and something to drink, rubs healing salve on any sore places and carries you to take a bath. She'll have you sit in her lap while softly washing your hair and body, leaving soft kisses all over your flushed face. Goes heavy on praise because she needs you to know just how good you were for her and how you made her feel good too. As strict and demanding she can be during sex, she is as sweet as honey during aftercare.
You were so perfect for me, darling. You made me feel so good and I'm so proud of you. Lean your head back for me please, I'd hate to get shampoo in your beautiful eyes. There, thank you love, doesn't that feel nice? You're always so good for me that I can't help but want to spoil you afterwards. Oh, you are so darling when you blush, come here let me kiss those red cheeks. You are absolutely adorable!
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You have no idea what your satisfied sighs and fucked-out expression do to EKKO's heart, do you? He loves witnessing just how good he made you feel and always needs to know he's treating you right. Loves laying in bed with you for hours, sharing sleepy kisses and meaningful glances. He likes to make small talk to make sure you are alright and that you're not too sore. If Ekko notices you wincing when you move, he gives you a gentle massage while kissing the back of your thighs and shoulders. He tells you how much he loves you and how stunning you are. Just the sight of you laying next to him makes his heart feel so warm and his stomach full of butterflies. Little Man appreciates you so much and sees you as his ray of sunshine in the darkness known as the Undercity.
How was that, babe? Did I blow your mind? Haha, guessing by the look you're giving me, I'd say I did. Don't worry, I'll take good care of you. Are you hurting anywhere or feeling sore? Lay on your stomach, I'll give you a nice, relaxing massage. You were pretty amazing too, you know that, firefly? You always look so pretty and sound so cute, I can't help but fall in love with you all over again. Okay, okay, I'll stop teasing but I want you to know that I love you and I'd do anything for you, alright? Good, just relax now, I'm here.
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SILCO is, quite surprisingly, very gentle with you. He knows he can be rough and how taxing it can be on both your mind and body so he showers you with praise afterwards. Lets you cuddle into his side while he lights a cigar and tells you how lovely you are. He will prepare a bath for you along with your favorite snacks and drink. Silco will join you in the bath but only if you ask nicely because he prefers showers and has to go back to work. If he notices you're still feeling vulnerable and needy, he will let you sleep in his lap or on the couch in his office while he does his work. Will occasionally stop just to admire your sleepy face and press a soft kiss into your hair, murmuring a soft 'I love you'.
How are you feeling, darling? I wasn't too rough, was I? Alright, but please do let me know if you ever feel like that or if I unintentionally hurt you. I only want to inflict the kind of pain which brings you pleasure but you already know that. You were wonderful, my love, don't you worry. You're always perfect for me. I had a bath prepared for you so feel free to take your time as I have to go over some documents now. If you start missing me, feel free to join me in my office, beloved. There's always a place for you by my side.
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VANDER loves giving praise and body worshipping his partner both during and after sex. He'll support himself on his side with his arm while gently caressing your face and hair with the other one. He'll gently murmur how beautiful you are and how lucky he is to have you. Despite his size, Vander is an extremely gentle and caring man, something which he never fails to show around you. He also loves making you laugh as it's the most beautiful sound he has ever been blessed to hear so he will often gently tickle your side or tell jokes. Loves kissing the bruises his hands and mouth left on you, always checking with you whether or not they hurt. Because of the kids, the two of you rarely have time for such activities so Vander makes sure to make each and every opportunity incredibly special and intimate.
Look at you, my darlin'. I keep askin' myself just what have I done to deserve someone as lovely and stunning as you. You are amazing, you know that? You always make me feel so good and I hope I managed to return that favor. I'm sorry we don't get to do this more often but that makes it all the more special, don't you think? Looking at you spread out so beautifully next to me makes my head go all fuzzy, I'll never understand how an old sod such as myself managed to find someone as sweet and alluring as you. Sleep now, love, you deserve to rest. I love you so much, never forget that.
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SEVIKA could never get tired of the feeling of your body against hers, so she'll often have you rest on her lap while she sits against the headboard and smokes. She'll draw gentle circles against your thigh with her free hand, admiring the marks she left all over your pretty, pliant body. Will gladly share her cigar with you if you ask her for it, thinks you look adorable when you try to inhale the smoke and fail miserably. She'll pat your back and take her cigar back, telling you to just relax against her until she's finished after which the two of you will take a nice, hot shower. Always asks about how it was for you because she knows she did well and made you see stars but hearing it from you makes pride swell up in her chest. Loves focusing on your pleasure and making you feel good even though she can be rough at times. But Sevika makes sure to make up for any roughness by taking good care of you afterwards.
Just like that, baby, just relax against me. There's no rush, we have all the time in the world. Hand me my lighter, will you? Thank you, sweetness. You want to take a drag? Go ahead but try not to choke haha. What did I tell you, baby, bitter stuff like this aren't meant for some as cute and sweet as you. I'd hate to have my darling choke on anything other than my fingers or stra- Okay okay, no need to be embarrassed, you certainly weren't before. Alright, I'll stop teasing for now, the last thing I want is to have my baby be cross with me so just rest and I promise I'll wash your hair later, sound good? Of course it does, I know all my darling's weak spots.
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Oh, this sweet, sweet man. VIKTOR needs to feel your closeness and warmth after you two do it. He loves engulfing your form with his arms and just holding you for a while. He often craves reassurance, needs to know he made you feel good and loved. Your pleasure and enjoyment are a top priority to him and he often doubts his ability to satisfy you because of his health issues. But with how attentive and careful he is, you know he could never make you feel anything less than amazing and he needs you to tell him that. He loves feeling your warmth against him and proposes a bath after the two of you catch your breath. You both wash each other's hair and bodies, making ridiculous shapes with the foam and blowing bubbles all around you. What follows is a soft make out session filled with gentle, wandering touches and tender praise.
Was that alright for you, ljubavi moja? Are you feeling okay? Good, lay down with me for a bit? I just need to feel you next to me, you always make me feel so warm and loved. You were truly wonderful just now, you never cease to amaze me. I am so lucky to have someone so wonderful as my partner, I love you more than anything. Yes, even more than Hextech haha. Your love and care made me realize that there is much more to life than just work and I'll be forever grateful to you for that. Now, how about we take a bath after which we can cuddle as much as you want, alright? Oh, but, can I get a kiss first?
translation: ljubavi moja - my love
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aezuria · 1 month
Text
*ੈ✎ xoxo, gossip girl!
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content: leo valdez x reader, percy jackson x reader, jason grace x reader
╰┈▸ back cover: how would gossip sessions with them go?
warnings: cursing, rude humor??
librarian's annotations: doing this instead of requests um
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*ੈ LEO VALDEZ
SASSY MAN APOCALYPSE
god hes probably talking shit more than u
"oh her? yeah she was such a bitch like no way she looked at you like that when i said i was so obviously taken!"
"and her hair? has she ever heard of a brush? like, if you're gonna come at my girlfriend, at least make yourself look better so you don't embarrass yourself. oh wait, you can't!"
probably laying on you as he does this, and starts squeezing you tightly
"because my girlfriend is the prettiest girl in the world!"
awww that's cute right?
WRONG this man is so quick with his comebacks its actually insane
does NOT think before he speaks
doesnt hold back, even against you (booo why did ur gf privileges not apply to that)
"leo! can you like, move your fat ass off me?" you groan under him as he lays down with his dead weight on top of you.
"like the fat ass you don't have?"
were you silent or SILENCED
everytime you think he wouldnt take it that far?? oh he will go THERE (but he always makes sure u know hes joking)
doesnt want to invoke your wrath so he apologizes IMMEDIATELY
"fix your hair-"
"fix your face- IM SORRY I DIDNT MEAN TO-"
*ੈ PERCY JACKSON
guys. we cant forget abt the OG SASSY MAN
also talking shit a whole lot more than he should
"uh, she needs to get her act together before she can start coming at others; like-" rolls his eyes for EMPHASIS "who does she think she is, talking to you like that?"
damn, who taught this man sass?
bro was BORN with it or smth
even outsasses you sometimes
if you tell him to get like a snack or something and hes in the mood to just lay down with you, he will huff SO loudly
"ugh, fine!"
gets you extra snacks anyway in case you want more (and drinks obviously)
SO SO INVESTED like he has the WHOLE story down
but sometimes mixes up the ppl if its been a while
"wait wait, so the library girl and the jock are dating?"
"the nerd and the library girl are dating, but the jock wanted library girl."
"that makes a lot of sense, actually."
has tea of his OWN because the sea knows everything apparently
"tobias told me-" percy started.
"who the fuck is tobias?"
"the turtle, duh. anyway, he said that this guy always takes girls to the beach on their first date, to make them fall in love with him or something. like, every single girl he's dated."
"...does that count as a manipulation tactic?"
*ੈ JASON GRACE
will be on your side no matter what
like if you end it with an "it is what it is"
um??? it is NOT what it is hello?
doesnt look like hes listening but hes paying attention to EVERYTHING
like hes "reading" a book but hes been on the same page for the entire time youve been talking
tries not to laugh at your rather creative insults, but sometimes you get a soft chuckle out of him
you take that as a win
once, you caught him listening through the door as you gossiped with piper over the phone
he was SO embarrassed omg
after that, you made sure to tell him all the tea as soon as you have it
"—and he cheated on her with her SISTER. who's like, three years younger than him! like, what the fuck? that's not even all he did!" you sit up, hands playing with the blanket. you think you see him lean a bit closer, as if wanting to hear more. "she fucked his brother in his room, like, her ex boyfriend's room for revenge! okay, that was a bitch move, but was it deserved?"
jason shrugged. "i'd say no one deserves to be cheated on, but he kinda did deserve it."
"exactly!"
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youronlydarlin · 3 months
Note
What if sleep deprived!reader is doing work late at night again, and what if Price fucks her to sleep ;) ((This has been in my mind for a week now)) (Im using anonymous because Im still shy-)
Hnhhhhh. S' is so fuckin hot nonnie.
warning: fem! reader, kinda brat tamer! Price and a very eepy reader, somewhat dumbification, rough sex to soft sex, somnophilia at the end, not proofread 😢
You know your husband hates it when you stay up late. Moreover if it was work he couldn't convince you to finish in the morning. But were you really to blame here? It's not your fault the deadline got pushed early. Besides, you wouldn't be doing this if you didn't have to.
That was the philosophy you believed in up until your husband came in and decided to put you to bed himself.
You were always so stubborn, but you were adding a whole new flare to it earlier. Making a big show about how "you have to finish the report now, lest you want your boss to beat your ass". And he understands, really, he does. A man with his line of work would understand the calling of responsibility more than anybody. Maybe the late hours of the night has finally gotten into your head. Cause that certainly wasn't an excuse to act up, talking back, and thinking you could banish him to the bed with only the presence of one. No, young lady that attitude will not be tolerated. What happened to his good girl, huh?
But you see, John's always spoiled you. Even during one of your fights, and tantrums. Since you wanted to finish your papers so much John decides to be the bigger person, and give you exactly what. You. Want.
This leads us to now. Both of your wrists are pinned against your back, John using them as nothing but a handle to fuck you back on his fat cock. You feel like a doll, all limp as you're fucked within an inch of your life right by your work desk.
You want to sleep. To slip into dreamland. But the bright light from your opened laptop, paired up with your husbands unrelenting thrusts inside your tight pussy prevents you from even closing your eyes.
Open mouthed, and mindlessly drooling on the papers you were fussing over earlier, John thinks you look best like this. Someone as pretty as you shouldn't be working, much less overexerting herself.
He takes pity on you. His poor, sweet, baby. You're just being forced by your stupid job to comply with even stupider work. Shhh, hush now, sweet thing. Your husband's here to help.
Thrusts slowing down, he gently lets go of both of your wrists. Seeing them carelessly fall to your side makes him coo softly at you. You're being picked up before your mind can even process the action. The blur in your vision makes the colors blend in with each other, and for a moment you see the world like a kaleidoscope.
Fatigue latches onto your bones like a pesky leach. The only thing grounding you is the fat cock nestled within your core. The jostle of a mattress takes you out of your delirium, the softness of silk against your back feels like heaven. What was supposed to be a satisfied sigh quickly turns into a pleasured moan as John gives a shallow thrust into your puffy pussy.
He knows your tired, but he just couldn't help himself. Seeing his princess finally in bed like she deserves. Whining and groaning, you can't eve bring yourself to lift up your arms and tell him to give it a rest. Give you a rest. But, he's doing you a favor can't you see?
John's leaning down in a second, kissing your temple shut. You feel your body slowly succumb to his ministrations. Whispering soft praises into your ear, while he grinds himself aimlessly in your velvet walls.
The feeling of it is oddly more relaxing than stimulating. Eyes closed, you feel powerless even as John slightly picks up his pace. You've accepted defeat, finally falling into the wistful sleep your body has craved. And John thinks you look absolutely breathtaking like this. Always so beautiful without trying. He gets closer and closer to release, using your unconscious body to get himself off. Cumming deep inside of your pretty, princess pussy.
a/n: AHHHHH. M' sorry for only being able to answer your request today nonnie, I know you sent this yesterday 😞 also like. I didn't know if you wanted something soft or rough, so I just added both. Also, this was a lot of fun to write! No pressure on keeping yourself anonymous, jus' know that you can always send in your horny thoughts. N e ways, I hope you enjoyed this! Have a wonderful day/night, my loves!
Yours, truly,
–dolly
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