#I regret every single time I have to use you

[thatacotargirl]

Shadows and Surprises (2)

Part 2 of Azriel x Reader fanfic! Thank you for all the support on the first part, this is my first time writing a fanfiction and I've had this idea in my head for so long - so your kind words have really made me smile!

Summary: Azriel meets y/n at Rita's and spends a single night of passion with you before heading your separate ways. Only, the Mother had different ideas.

Warnings: discussions related to pregnancy, family loss.

Tag list - @mirandasidefics @lilah-asteria @nyxbranwenn @nickishadow139

Azriel POV

"y/n?" Azriel stuttered, eyes not moving from her abdomen. From his peripheral, he saw Madja gently pat y/n on the shoulder and depart back behind the beaded curtains, leaving the pair of you alone. Y/n could barely meet his eyes, but let out a soft "hello", sounding almost winded.

Azriel kept on staring, almost held in a trance by the small swell he saw. He knew - be it by your reaction, your scent, his own instincts - he knew the child growing in there was his. But he had to know for sure.

"Is it mine, y/n?". Her slow nod pulled him away from her abdomen for a moment to meet her eyes, which were still full of fear, panic, and now tears. Azriel was feared by many, he was a Shadowsinger, the Shadowsinger of the Night Court, he was used to seeing fear when eyes met his. But seeing the fear fill your eyes, the mother of his child, was too much to bear. His usually stoic face fell.

"Why didn't you tell me, y/n?" he asked, gently this time, not wanting to cause you undue distress, despite the knot he felt growing in the pit of his own stomach.

"You hardly left a forwarding address, Az", y/n chuckled out lightly, "I tried, but I had no way to reach you. Plus, I didn't think I'd see you again, or that you'd want to be involved if you knew - I thought it was for the best that I couldn't find you".

Azriel's face fell further. Is that the impression that he had left on her that night? That he wouldn't want to be involved if something like this had happened? Or is that just the reputation he has garnered from his years of work at the Night Court?

He panicked, and the knot grew bigger, twisting, taking his breath away, pulling him deeper and deeper into a state of alarm that Azriel couldn't claw his way out from. Y/n saw the swirling fear in Azriel's eyes and her own softened.

"I'll give you some time, Az. Think about it. There is no obligation for you to have any involvement in this. You can pretend this encounter didn't happen and move on, if that's what you'd prefer. I won't hold it against you" she promised, before sliding past Azriel's frozen frame and rushing out the door into the streets of Velaris.

Y/N's POV

Y/n walked through her front door, chucked her bag on the nearby sofa, and thumped her fist into her forehead.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid" she muttered.

She had no regrets about the baby, the sweet little life growing inside her. When she realised she was pregnant with Azriel's baby, she panicked about carrying and birthing a child with wings, but Madja's thorough assessments each week have put her mind to rest. Being half-Illyrian, half-Fae meant she had every risk of having high-Fae anatomy, but the Cauldron seemed to have blessed her with Illyrian hips, so conceiving her child did not mean a sure death sentence. It didn't make it easier, though, to bear the brunt of early pregnancy alone.

Y/n was the proud owner of a bookstore in Velaris, located not far from the Sidra. It was her pride and joy. Having lost her mother at a young age and being raised alongside her brothers in the Illyrian camps meant that y/n was hardened to life's difficulties. Her father certainly made sure of that. So the idea of being a single mother whilst running her bookstore seemed like a walk in the park compared to her past. But, without staff to help, y/n found herself utterly and completely exhausted each day. Her morning sickness had finally let up, but in its place she found her energy drained within the first hour she spent on her feet locating books, tiding the store, and serving customers. She knew it was only going to get harder from here.

She wanted Azriel to be part of her baby's life, of course she did! She wanted her child to grow up knowing their father, having a father who loved them and cared for them, something she could only have wished for as a child herself. But she didn't want Azriel involved out of obligation. She didn't want him to begrudge her or resent her child. His panic-ridden face filled her mind once again as she flopped backwards onto her bed with more force than necessary.

"Stupid" she muttered.

Azriel's POV

Azriel flew at a speed faster than he knew existed. Faster than battle, than when his life depended on it. Because now, another tiny little life just might.

He crash-landed onto the balcony of the House of Window and burst through the doors to the dining room.

"Hey Az! What - where's my chocolate marble slice?" Cassian asked, head tilted slightly as a confused expression settled on his face. He took in Azriel's disheveled hair, wild eyes, and stood from his chair with such force that it flew backwards onto the carpet.

"Hey, hey, it's ok Az, what's happened?" Cassian questioned, stepping closer to Azriel who, in turn, took a bigger step backwards. Cassian paused, desperately calling for Rhys through his mind to come and help. Rhys heard, and winnowed into the dining room mere seconds later.

"Azriel?" Rhys called, concerning lacing his face at his stared at his brother's vacant eyes. He waited, seconds turning to minutes, but Azriel just continued his vacant stare across the room, his skin several shades paler than normal. Rhys made it a point to not go into his family's mind without their permission, to not invade their privacy in that way, but Azriel's behaviour was worrying him more than Azriel's anger at the invasion would. He looked in.

"By the Cauldron, Az" he gasped, a hand flying to his mouth. He shared the memory he saw with an equally concerned and confused Cassian, who shook his head a few times in disbelief.

"It's really yours?" Cassian asked, and watched as Azriel finally responded, his head bobbing slowly.

"Azriel", Rhys said, his tone so commanding it snapped Azriel out of his trance and drew his eyes to meet the violet ones of his High Lord. "What are you going to do?".

Azriel drew his eyes from Rhysand to Cassian, then back to Rhysand, before dropping his gaze to the floor and retreating to his room, his shadows swarming so violently around his shoulders that his face was almost entirely hidden. Had they not been, his brothers would have seen the tears falling silently down Azriel's stricken face.

Y/N's POV

Y/n had spent the best part of the afternoon in bed, Madja's tonic working wonders for the discomfort she had been feeling the last few weeks. She had never experienced indigestion, never even heard of it, but she was now quite convinced it was a curse from the Mother because she had never felt pain like it before. After trying to leaf through the latest instalment of her favourite romance series, and reading the same page at least forty times, she decided to settle down for a nap in an attempt to distract herself from the incident at the Apothecary that morning.

That was, until a knock sounded at the door.

#acotar x y/n #acotar x reader #acotar fanfiction #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #a court of mist and fury #a court of wings and ruin #a court of frost and starlight #a court of silver flames #azriel x y/n #azriel x reader #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #cassian #rhysand

[shycoconutt]

Graduation Day (Nanami x Reader)

Content: pure angst.

A/N: oops, sorry. <3

..••°°°°••..°°••....••°°..••°°°°••..°°••....••°°..••°°°°••..

“I can’t continue living this way. I’m leaving.”

The air seems to still when his words hit your ears. Standing together in the courtyard of Jujusu High, both in your best clothes for graduation day, Nanami came with a mission to end things before they even had the chance to begin.

“W-what?” you stutter.

His expression is hard to read at first. His face looks pained, constrained. You try to look into his eyes, currently hidden behind his blonde fringe. But he’s keeping them from you.

“I’ve been thinking about it for a long time,” Nanami continues, his voice barely above a whisper, “I am not going to continue on the path of being a jujutsu sorcerer. I can’t do it any longer.”

Instinctively, you reach out your hands to intertwine in his, to which he lets you. Using your thumbs to rub circles over his palms, you sigh.

You are no stranger to the fact that Nanami has been having a difficult time ever since the death of your former teammate, Haibara. His participation in missions became limited, and while you were perfecting your craft, he did only what he had to in order to get you both out alive. 

But, you always had each other. That’s the whole point, right?

“And because I’m no longer going to be a part of this world,” he gulps, “I don’t think we should continue with… us.”

Your grip tenses and your hands start to shake.

Nanami not being a sorcerer is something you can handle. Sure, a relationship between a sorcerer and a non-sorcerer is unconventional, but it’s not impossible. It is possible that you could be gone for months at a time, but your love is strong enough to handle that. It is possible that you could die, but that’s a possibility for everyone, right?

Almost as if he could read your mind, Nanami shakes his head while giving your hands a tight squeeze. 

No, no, no, no, no.

You can’t bury the anger, the rage rising in your chest. You can feel your vision going in and out. It’s suddenly becoming too hot in the summer sun – your clothes sticking to your skin uncomfortably.

“Us?” you seeth between your teeth, “There is no us, Nanami. There never was. Why?” your voice is rising, and control is quickly leaving you.

You finally look up again from your intertwined hands. To your surprise, your eyes finally meet his. 

Pain.

“Why?”, your tone is becoming more venomous with every word, “Because you are a coward.”

You wanted it to sting. How dare he? How dare he break up with you before you’re even together. How dare he give up on what you too could have. How dare he give up on your shared life. How dare he give up on you.

You are successful because you have never seen so much hurt in the eyes of your most loved. It breaks your heart. The single tear in the corner of his eye makes yours well up and overflow.

Regret.

“I-I’m sorry,” you cry, “I don’t- I don’t mean that, Kento.”

Using your hands, you yank him forward to wrap yourself around his waist. Thankfully, you feel his arms wrap around your shoulders. His hold on you is tight, almost desperate. He rests his cheek on your temple, breathing in your scent.

You don’t understand. This, you and him in a warm embrace, feels perfect. If this is all you could have, you’d be happy, because you could have him. 

“I love you,” Nanami whispers in your ear while holding you. Your tears are now staining his nice shirt. You can’t, no you won’t, let go. Never. 

“Why won’t you ask me to come with you?” your voice muffled by the fabric of his shirt.

You feel his chest cave in as he lets out a sigh.

“You know I can’t ask you that, baby,” his hand trailing up to cradle your head, “Being a sorcerer means so much to you. I won’t ask you to give that up. If I did, it would be the most selfish thing I’ve ever done.”

To your dismay, he is right.

“I love you, too.” 

-

You don’t remember much of what happened next. Quickly, he was gone, and you were left standing alone amongst the beautiful flowers and green grass. Your body felt as weightless as the breeze around you. You were hollow, empty. 

As you lay in bed in your dorm room, still in the same clothes you wore three days ago when he left, you can’t help but wonder how it’s possible that two people in love could exist apart. He is the one – you feel it in your soul. But, he’s gone. Your love wasn't enough for him to stay.

This is life now, isn’t it? From now until forever, part of you is missing.

Telling you to give up being a sorcerer would be the most selfish thing he’d ever done? No, he was wrong. This was the most selfish thing he’d ever done.

You hate Nanami Kento for ever loving you.

#nanami kento #kento nanami x reader #kento nanami x you #nanami x you #nanami x reader #nanami x #nanami x y/n #jjk #jjk angst #jujutsu kaisen #nanami kento x reader

[lemongizumo]

I didn’t want to make any public posts about what’s been happening in the past days in our fandom because of my health issues. Some of you know, mostly people I consider my friends now, others because I was offering emergency commissions to solve hospital and treatment costs, but my health isn’t that good lately and the level of drama, intensity and everything around this topic was affecting me. Still is a bit. However, after everything that has come out, so many similar experiences, so many people being manipulated, hurt and damaged because of this one individual who I considered my friend, I can’t remain silent anymore. I just can’t. I’m still shocked and feeling so many emotions, from sadness to concern, from disappointment to anger. Even guilty for not realizing how disgusting this person was. It’s unbelievable.

I won’t go into any details, those involved know everything that needs to be known. I will not share screenshots either but there are plenty to prove what this person tried to do until the end and how many people she damaged.

I became her friend months ago, around August/September of last year. I considered her a real friend, a good one even, she was nice to me all the time and talked to me every day for all these months. She bought my friendship with love bombing, gifts, with praise about my art and me, a fucking naïve idiot, thought she was sincere. I never noticed the red flags until it was too late, how she was collecting artists along the way and discarding the ones that weren’t useful. She was after popular people, writers and artists, anyone that could give her status. She wanted her name seen everywhere and she invaded every space she could. She also promoted her server to anybody who had big numbers or was known in the HG fandom.

I didn’t know anybody in the fandom, only some names I followed because I admired their art or writing. I always spent my days in any fandom as a spectator, doing fanart and having casual conversations but not getting close to anybody. She was the first person I let get close to me.

I trusted her and that was a mistake I’ll regret for a long time.

She took advantage of me not knowing anybody, she used me as a dumpster bin to trash talk about others, she played victim over and over again, she claimed some people hated her, and she made me believe so many things that I later discovered weren’t real. She twisted reality to her convenience; she created a false narrative where she was the poor victim who was attacked constantly and that she only wanted the best for everybody. She just wanted to be ‘nice.’

Knowing English isn’t my first language and sometimes it’s hard for me to understand certain expressions, she used that to be able to act as a bigot without me noticing until it was too late.

And I believed her. I believe every single fucking word she said about others, because why would she lie? She was just trusting me with things, right? She was just warning me about people, she cared about me, she was just looking out for me.

I’m a good friend, I know I am. Friendship has always been important to me, and I’m faithful to whoever I care about. I thought I was being a good friend to her by defending her and giving her my thoughts and opinions about all these ‘awful’ people who didn’t like her and were against her.

She just wanted an ally.

Her love bombing and praise only lasted until I didn’t act the way she wanted.

I confronted one of her ‘friends’ in her server after that person was exposing an innocent writer just to humiliate them. I was mistreated and attacked. She, the owner, didn’t do anything to stop it while I was telling her in dms what was happening. She didn’t do anything at all because she didn’t care.

She didn’t care either when I showed her proof that her friend was a terf. I was worried, I was so naïve I thought maybe this person didn’t know about her friend being transphobic. But she knew. She didn’t act surprised, she just did her best to clarify she wasn’t a terf ‘by association’ in between jokes and tried to justify her friend over and over again. She dismissed my worries and acted like it wasn’t such a big deal.

I trusted her to the point I felt safe enough to tell her I am autistic and how hard it was growing up not knowing that, how everyone treated me as if I was dumb when I was a kid and a teenager. Her attitude towards me changed after she knew my diagnosis. From treating me like I was a child to a condescending way to talk to me whenever I did ‘wrong.’

I supported her when she decided to create a BB just to be called silly and treated as stupid because I wouldn’t join if the terf was there. She simply didn’t care I was affected because I’m non-binary and trans. She just wanted artists for her shitty event because she needed to make a name among other events. She kept insisting that I join, even after she knew the terf was going to be a part of the event. She wanted me to be a pinch hitter artist.

I finally opened my eyes after my medical emergency in February. I decided to open emergency commissions to help with the costs and that led me to talk to people I never talked to before. People this individual didn’t want me to talk to.

I don’t know why things happen but everything seems to happen for a reason. Some people that reached out to me to help me were people this individual talked shit about over and over again for months. And to my surprise, they were nothing like I was made to believe. On the contrary, these people were sweet, nice, and were actually sincere.

Her reaction to me talking to them was passive-aggressive comments, jokily threats and playing the victim. She also started giving me the silent treatment in order to manipulate me again. Which, luckily, didn’t work.

This disgusting individual lied so much I have spent the last few days wondering how much of what she said was true and how much was bullshit. She tried to mess with friendships, she tried to ruin a relationship, she made racist and transphobic comments, she lied about so many people that didn’t deserve it, she thought her lies wouldn’t catch up to her and kept acting like a ‘mean girl’ who wanted to be number one in popularity. She thought having popular friends, who she bragged about, would keep her away from anything.

She thought she was safe and that I was stupid enough to keep believing her.

I’m not stupid. I never was.

And I will not remain silent while she still plays victim, while she decided to blame ME for all of her fucking mess.

When this whole thing exploded, she desperately tried to convince someone she wasn’t bad, that it was all a misunderstanding and that she was just venting to me. A good pity party because she was being called out and she didn’t expect it. She tried to convince them that I was to blame. She didn’t hesitate to throw me under the bus, to make anyone believe I was the villain, exposing me with screenshots, for all we know, were probably manipulated by her. It is now known that she edits, changes and deletes messages.

I’m not a villain for exposing the truth to people I now care about. To people who have been nothing but nice to me even tho they are aware I said awful things about them based on what this individual told me. She tried to brainwash me with her lies and almost succeeded.

The past few weeks have been hard. But it’s harder to see how many others she hurt.

She’s not a good person no matter how much she tried to act like one. Her disgusting behavior led to so much damage and she got me involved in it, using me until the end.

This behavior is not ‘fandom drama,’ it is dangerous behavior, one that should not be tolerated or accepted. Fandom is not a place to escalate in popularity, to surround yourself with popular artists just to get something from them. Fandom should be a safe place for us to enjoy, to escape from reality, from the real world that is hard enough for so many of us.

I will not let her step on me anymore. I will not be her scapegoat. And she will not get my sympathy anymore.

Please be safe out there, do not let these people harm us anymore. This individual and her fucking terf friend can go fuck themselves.

I am so tired.

#fandom wank #i guess it is #dangerous behavior #personal post

[h4terb0t]

𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕷𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝕺𝖋 𝖄𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝕭𝖔𝖔𝖙.

☆ 18+ only/no minors. | jason todd x gn! reader.

SUMMARY: a nsft fic about brat taming with a needy jason who's trying to make up for an argument. in his own way.

WARNINGs: 18+, dom! gn! reader, sub! jason, no penetration, brat taming, shoe humping/grinding, (minor, on reader's part) degradation & praise, (minor, on reader's part) slapping, partial nudity & begging on jason's end.

WORD COUNT: 1700+

NOTEs: second person & no plot. first smut & not beta'd. this insert is more of a mean type until the end. [guy, and no pronouns used to refer to the insert/reader.]

It's never easy to get him into that 'sub' mindset. He's always catching on to exactly what you're doing. At every turn, he's struggling against you, making sure there isn't a moment of vulnerability with how easy it can be to crack down the tension into something enjoyable. Sometimes.

The mere thought of giving away someone else that control is enough to stir nausea in the pit of his stomach.

And it stays there. For days, if it wants. Jason's head never makes it easy. Even through the fog that wraps around him in the most gentle manner that can be mustered, the worst possibilities always stand at the back of it. It makes him regret even letting himself be touched; no matter how much he's reassured you'll never take advantage of what's given.

The other half of the time, he craves it like air.

Finally, it's not only the ache. His head doesn't have to be caught on solely about how bad his legs are still burning up on the inside, be it from patrol or whatever the hell else he was doing, because he can grasp onto the sweat-slicked memories that came with the previous day despite it. 

The sting remains, and yet. Wounds are carefully tended to afterwards, and bite marks from a completely separate source are kissed until enough is enough, and you are pushed away with whatever laughter his sore throat can still give.

Today is one of the better ones.

The earlier thoughts aren't biting away at what can be considered rational. His heart isn't running a marathon in the cage around it, but Jason's breathing is still one of the loudest sounds in the room, other than the bed creaking under your weight as the space between the two of you is closed.

Under thick lashes, hazel eyes stare up at you from the floor, and you groan at the obvious intent to get back into good graces. "C’mon, don’t look at me like that."

The argument that brought up the act was, honestly, not the worst. Another misunderstanding, something taken out of context. Words were left unsaid, and the 'wrong' ones were spoken out without much thought other than they'd dig deep. Compared to the start of the relationship, it's been getting better.

Jason tries with what little he knows and pushes past the urge to cut everything off at the roots. He could've left for weeks—leave entirely without a single message. Instead, he's not going to put you through that again, but it'll never be easy for him. And so, he takes a different approach.

He's on his knees in front of the bed with a wounded, puppy-eyed expression. With the bottom of his outfit stripped, he's left all alone in a hoodie and jockstrap as dark as the night outside your guys's little hideout. The black straps stretch around his thighs, and with his pants forgotten somewhere around the apartment, the bulk of his scars are out in the open.

His underwear gives away at the bulge underneath. Even kneeling in front of you alone made him unreasonably needy.

The remark has Jason nuzzling his head on top of one of your legs. Black curls envelope your knee.

"'M sorry. I wanna be good, I swear," He purrs, and he wants to try and smile to play the part, be cute, and let anything else fade into background noise, but he's not suited for that. Eyes scan over your face, looking for some semblance of understanding. "Feel good. All for you."

Your foot presses against the bulge enough for him to feel it down almost the entire length. A hiss breathes through his clenched jaw, and he lets a whine slip and curls forward, resting his cheek on your leg.

"Hmm—don’t know. You sure you can do that without barking at me like a dog tonight?"

He takes full advantage of the indulgence, dragging his face against you in slow motion while he pushes down the edges of his lips. Well aware he's won, his hands come up around your leg, palming at you for the chance the contact might be taken away as easily as it was given.

The act drops instantly.

"What, you can’t handle it?" His eyes shut for a second before staring back at you with heavy, glassy lids, mouth agape as he practically drools in panted breaths. "I'm not a fucking dog."

In small, janky movements, so it isn't obvious, Jason rocks his hips forward. He stops complaining, though, when your hand comes down to pet his curls.

As much as your boyfriend's merciless begging and apologies are usually enough to get the better of you in these quiet moments, it hasn't been hard to notice how he's been exploiting the niceties to compromise with you over every act in bed.

It's difficult to get him to let go of control despite the obsession and encourage him to rest in a healthy manner once in awhile if it's just so easy to swindle you into doing what he wants. He seems to think he'll get everything he wants with a few pretty sounds, and that's been cemented in his head.

So, tonight—maybe if the cards are played right—can be a good teaching point. Just to show you aren’t going to put up with his bullshit.

“You can cum with my shoe, right, Jay?”

His brows furrow, but then he dips his back to the floor while his eyes flicker close.

Yeah, no. The summer heat isn't kind to the city, leaving your shared room smoldering apart from the fan in the corner, so every motion forces him to suck in more heated air. At the very least, he could be up there with you. It wouldn't be some plain clothes sticking to his skin from the sweat.

The floor, though padded with carpet, is getting uncomfortable real fast.

"Please—please, can you use your mouth or hands?"

And much to his surprise, you press on his dick uncomfortably hard. He tries not to shift in place as it happens, taking in a harsh breath all the while listening to you—listening to the words sink in through his racing head.

"What, is my foot not good enough for you? Little brat."

All his plans turn into nothing. He thought it'd at least take awhile before you'd get this harsh. He wasn't even trying to be that, but it's good enough.

The lump in his throat is swallowed past, and nothing sounds out. Jason shakes his head lightly, refusing to even lift his bottom lip from where he has it pinned under his teeth.

"Good. Then hump my foot." He lets out a pitiful whimper, hoping to coax some sympathy out of you.

It doesn’t work. So slowly, he pushes his hips forward and back.

And he does that for awhile, and it doesn't even feel that good. It's embarrassing being forced to listen to himself heave through every breath.

Gradually, pre-cum soaks through the jockstrap. It makes it easier, but it's still a fucking shoe. It's all he can focus on. He struggles to not dig his fingers into the thick of your leg, to get his mind to focus on anything else but the sting that comes with moving them at all. His knuckles are pressed firmly against the wrap around them—his knees hurt.

He's cursing himself out in his own head. It doesn't help with the burn at the edge of his lids, obviously.

He wipes the beginning of the waterworks against your pants, doing it along with each drag so it isn't too clear what he's doing while his forehead is pressed to your knee, but it doesn't stop. So, he spares himself a bit of the shame and tries to use it to garner some pity.

"Please, please—"

"Do you even know what you're begging for?" You know what he's doing. As hard as it is to ignore the pretty sobs that always distress you, you continue, "What are you crying for, brat?"

He really should've taken that glass earlier without letting his thoughts get the better of him, forgetting everything else you've done for him in the years you've known each other in favor of an intrusive thought.

Jason's voice sounds as rough as it feels as he wails and grips your leg tighter. "Please—touch me. Touch me; I'll be good."

"You sure? You going to listen for once?" You lightly push down on his bulge once again, and that just gets him to grind more frantically in the moment.

A light slap comes over the side of his face, and finally he peers up at you while your hand comes around to tilt his face up by the jaw. Your thumb runs over the streaks of tears, drying that part as you make sure his attention is on you alone.

"You gonna be a good boy for me and listen to me?"

His eyes seal after a moment.

And then a groan slips by undeterred. He leans into your hand, nodding while he does. His hips buckle without any protest, grounding against the leather of your shoe, because if he doesn't do something fast, the heat building up in his stomach is going to burst into nothing but a spark.

Your voice draws him in further: "Alright then, then do what I said."

The last few stray drops are dried by your pants. And just like that, he is cumming. You rub against his clothed cock, coaxing him through the short scene of euphoria as his cum leaks through the underwear.

It's not much, but it helps to glide your shoe nicely over the twitching length.

You don’t stop the stroking, and he begins to hiccup at the overstimulation. Jason doesn't do anything but shudder in response; he can't bring himself to. As much as it'd be nice to pull away now, the top of your hand is inching into his hair, your fingers brushing through it just barely.

Your foot eases off.

Once he catches his breath, the long sleeves of a hoodie wrap around your leg wholly, and during that, he uses it as a clutch while practically collapsing forward.

"There’s my boy."

With the exhaustion wrecking him altogether, Jason lets himself smile without punishment for once. His head begins to nuzzle into the warmth of your hand.

#sorry for the bunch of tags coming up </3 #jason todd #jason todd smut #jason todd x reader #jason todd x gn reader #dom reader #dc comics x reader #gn reader #mine #dc comics #and scene .

[akemi-snow]

It's them.

Don't let that serious face fool you. Izumo was the one who came up with whatever idea put them there. Kotetsu only made it worse.

I got the background from here but had to edit the heights bc my boys are smol

#izumo kamizuki #kotetsu hagane #koteizu #those two guys from naruto #naruto #see izumo was a good kid. Then Ko came in & corrupted him into childish mischief 24/7 since age 7 #now izumo uses his outstanding intelligence for stupid ass pranks that land them in jail at times #don't let that face fool u he regrets N O T H I N G. He's laughing inside. He just doesn't want it to be registered in his record #kotetsu doesn't care #see also how ko's id has no last name? it's not needed. It was stated in the mugshot before his. They're married #'and kotetsu' instead of his name bc every time EVERY SINGLE GODDAMN TIME izumo ends up in jail it's ALWAYS with Kotetsu #btw this is traced. I'm not an artist so I literally just put a layer on the original & traced lmao But I did do the rest & #I'm actually lowkey proud of it even though it looks like bad cgi made in ms paint 2003 LOL #but you have to understand i made it with a free online program with no art knowledge & with A MOUSE w/o mousepad LMAO #also i'm back. I was drowning in the abyss of university & depression. Now it's only depression. But Those Two Guys make it better #for someone that only draws for the memes i spend an awful 3+ hours anxiously palm-sweating before i can click 'post'

[bossladytae]

~

#will delete later; #i had to lol when one of my old meta posts popped up in my activity feed #it was one on oboro and shouyou/utsuro #i can't remember my thoughts at the time to where i was thinking 'what the heck is all this' while rereading my own meta lol #it's been so long since i indulged in writing meta posts #i don't write or read them anymore for two reasons: #1) i'm not in the mindset anymore to where i used to recall every single detail and could find things again quickly #and 2) long-time gintama fans have Been There Done That with everything including meta #all the 'am i the only one' type of posts -- no you aren't; i guarantee it's been thought of and expressed before #even the same old 'arguments' about how certain gintaladies' characters aren't 'relevant' will pop up in new form #all i intend to do is enjoy gintama for as long as i can #i've paid my dues and made my contributions; i'm more into writing fanfic or supporting/commissioning fanart for gintama these days #i will always love gintama even if the intensity of those feelings has changed since the ending #i don't regret loving this series for 18 years and counting #i'm sure some of my other meta posts are still kicking about or still on private #if i can remember half of what i was thinking when i wrote some of them i'll be glad lol #it's fine for newer fans to continue analyzing; it was fun when we did it too #but i will stay retired

[icewindandboringhorror]

misc. daily life photos again .. for the every once in a while that I collect enough over a few months to actually make a photo set out of them lol

#Not sure how to caption every photo because you can unfortunately no longer caption photos so that text appears #under them when you view them. you can only add photo descriptions (which is more about literally describing #the image for people who can't see it or etc.). I wish they had the ability to have both captions and descriptions as both are useful for #different functions but it seems they took captions away entirely so. I guess I'll have to just number every picture and then talk about th #em in the tags or soemthing?? SO.. starting from top left to right -- #image 1: blackberries BUT also if you look close.. there's a tiny little bug on them lol #image 2: little water droplets on the back of a leaf that looked cool.. love anything with tiny water orbs #image 3&4: a spiky fuzzy sort of caterpillar outside on a yardwork glove.. small friend #image 5: THIS is such a bad slogan!!! what a lie!!! I personally would LOVE to have a sandwich party! in fact I would rather attend a #sandwich party than a pizza party because it would be fun to sample a wide variety of sandwich platters with all different meats and chee #& breads & ingredients & etc. !! now I just wish I could go to a cool sandwich sampling party w a full buffet of various mini sandwiches : #image 6: a chicken sandwich I made myself at home. with swiss cheese >:3 #image 7&8 : HHRGH it's a CAT and also bubble tea!!! AND is pastel teal! but alas.. it was like $20 and I didnt want to pay that but now #looking back on the photos slightly regret it lol. I think it's more because it's a brand name since the cat is some popular cat like hello #kitty or something. I didn't really notice that until later lol. I was just thinking 'OMG A CAT!'. I love all cats. brand or no brand lol #image 9: my single once a year trip to the drink place that has really nice garlic noodles. this time with beef? which was good too. And #the typical drink order of pina colada smoothie (i think it's coconut pineapple and strawberry?). plain matcha bubble tea (favorite and all #I ever get from anywhere). and a strawberry smoothie thing. I also usually get a coffee bubble tea but the place is like 50% of the time ou #of coffee for some reason so. hggh.. Which I know is like everyday food for some people but. I get food from places SO rarely that it's al #ays an event to take a picture about lol. Just cooking at home 99% of the time makes those trips for fancy food more special I guess #Id rather save the money/dont have much in the 1st place .& also am still a freak who hates using apps/dislikes shit like ubereats or etc. #I would literall NEVER get food delivered to my house under any circumstance unless I was dying alone inside on hospital bed rest with no #support system and no transportation and having food delivered to me was my last possible option. otherwise. if I want something so bad #I can just leave the house to physically pick it up myself without involving a middle man to the process and paying more. .. ANYWAY ghjgjh #image 10: BOY in BOX.. playing a new boardgame and he sits inside! rip to my big beautiful son. I miss him. #UpWords is a fun game though. It's similar to scrabble except you can stack the letters? interesting #Okay. that's all the pictures! Also for the record I do think it's a good thing to have image descriptions! I wasn't complaining in the sen #e that I wish they would get rid of them and bring captions back. more just I would like to have both preferrably. I liked being able to #caption things on the occasional post like this where the layout is better suited towards it. #photo diary

[creativebrainrot]

I want to write up a little open journal entry about yesterday, and well. Life, lately.

Content Warning for the death of a pet. mentions of abuse. mentions of my abuser.

Today was the day of my childhood pet's vet appointment. BK had been off her thyroid medication since late January / early February this year. I didn't realize how long that was, my dad had been trying and failing to save up for her healthcare. Yesterday, she was panting, didn't want to be touched, on top of other health issues we noticed this/last week, and we knew she was dying. One day off of her appointment, after we finally had managed to save up. When we set the appointment it was a 17 day long wait, and I knew she wouldn't make it. She was put to rest yesterday, I asked my dad to take her to vet to be put to sleep. I've watched too many animals die slowly in this house because we couldn't take care of them. We had saved up just enough for her euthanasia.

The night of the 25th I thought she was already dying, so I pet her and laid my head on her body like one last goodbye but she woke up. I tried to sleep but I had to check on her one more time before I could and when I looked where she usually was, she was still staring at my bedroom door.

When I woke up she was already in a bad state.

I got one last goodbye and goodmorning from her.

she was a really cute cat, I had her since I was 4 or 5. She died at 17 or 16 years old and she was so so so happy and sweet and cute for every single one of those years.

I couldn't go to the vet's with my dad. I had just woken up and I despise crying infront of other people. I don't like it. (I don't like it because I don't look how I should. no other reason. people see a "short little girl" and I hate it.)

We tried to work a bit yesterday, the day she left. But our car's engine light came on, and that was just too much to deal with.

I have no reason to stay in this house anymore. Neither does my dad. Today, 27th of April, 2023, we're going to seriously start moving. Selling things we don't want, packing up what we do want.

We spent this whole year so far trying to just save up enough to move smoothly but honestly? I think it will feel smooth even if we have to buy a car that's definitely a one-way ticket. Even if it's the worst used-lemon of a car we've ever driven before, we'll be somewhere that's finally our's.

This house was the very last bargaining chip our abuser used against us. I cannot emphasize enough that everything was rigged against us from the very start. The mortgage company won't talk to my dad. When our abuser was alive they didn't talk to my dad either- none of the companies did. My dad wasn't the sole owner so he never got to apply for any of the housing aid he wanted to. and then desantis. who doesn't exactly "like" poor people. like us. or anyone remotely like us at all, actually.

If we can just get to somewhere new- be it a mobile home, two apartments, a house in a state like this one, it will STILL be an upgrade. Because the system, including our own personal abuser, never let this be our house. This is just "where we're stuck living," and it's been that my entire life.

my dad wanted so badly to fix this house up and love it but everyday it gets a bit harder to stay here. Everyday a new issue crops up that makes us ask, "why are we still trying to live here?"

even if we did like the house, we're still in a state that get's too hot for us to live comfortably, we're still in a state that wants us dead. we're still cut off from care we need and in a state where everything is too expensive for us.

So it's time to say goodbye and move. I'm only 21 and I don't want to watch my dad die in this house- he's in good health. And we want it to stay that way. We're hoping Maine has clinics that we can afford care from easier. DoorDash usually gets us 20$ an hour, so if we can get a car that can keep driving or maybe fix our current one, we'll be right back on our feet. My dad was looking into DoorDash's e-bike program, he really loves working for DoorDash.

My personal dream is an apartment all to myself that's just the right size for my cat and I, that I can make money off of vocal work & art from. I want to work from home so that I'm never forced outside when I don't want to be or can't handle it. I want to work from home because all my friends right now are online. I want a nice apartment within walking distance of nice places.

I want true freedom for myself and my dad. and I think, we'll get that.

no matter what.

#death of a pet #animal death #and thank you to every single one of you who boosted the donation post or donated to us #you have no idea how much that means to me #i spent 20 years convinced id never be more than a footnote in other people's lives #convinced i was the single exception to human kindess #all because of the poison my abuser fed into my mind #but no #the child i kept alive in my heart was right this entire time #that little kid who feared nothing and no one #always knew he was fucking lying to us #so thank you. for caring. for proving my demons wrong. and for proving that prick wrong. #I knew other people were not as heartless as him. #The one thing I will never regret is keeping hope alive in my heart all these years through any means necessary. #rottingjournals #rotthoughts

[blujaydoodles]

What would Idri consider her biggest mistake? Her biggest triumph?

"Gnomes don't make mistakes, we learn lessons. That said, one thing I've learned is that drinking heavily and juggling with both fire and a guy big enough to juggle you... don't mix."

Her biggest personal triumph, in her opinion, was pulling off a disappearing tiger act as a grand finale! It's a big illusion with a lot of technical requirements, so even once you've got everything you need to do it you're still really limited by whether you can get a good venue, and she had to coordinate with the circus' resident beastmaster to a) borrow a tiger and b) time her act so it didn't overlap with his; because the circus is a traveling show and the act is so complicated to be able to even attempt, she only got to do it once before leaving the circus for adventuring, but it was a huge showstopper and she's still really proud of it (she designed most of the illusion herself, including a lot of the actual mechanisms for the necessary gimmicked props).

Otherwise, she'd launch into enthusiastically describing the greatest triumphs of her party as a group-- but, unable to make up her mind about what might count as The Single Greatest, each tale of adventure would lead into another, all recounted with the same level of both showmanship and sincere enthusiasm

#Idri does not actually consider the juggling incident to be her biggest mistake she's just using it to segue into telling the story #of the time she and grigor got smashed and decided gnome juggling would be a GREAT new act #but she doesn't have any standout Big Regrets that feel like the single obvious answer to be honest #if she was going to be sincere (or if you could just read her mind) there'd probably be a different answer every time #'dating That Guy' 'making that one bet' 'not buying that one thing man I STILL think about it' stuff like that #ditto the party triumphs! we've done a lot of big important things but it's hard to pick any one stand out 'biggest one' #and I dunno that any of them would be something Idri would count as An Idri Triumph if that makes sense #they've all been pretty Whole Team experiences #thanks for asking!! :D #not art #ask thing #my OCs #Idri #dragon claw guild

[modernmaenad]

goddamn if i earned the whole weekend off for going to this awful work confrence today

#i wasnt required to go since im only part time but i get paid time off for saturday if i went so i did #so i dont regret it but it was So Bad #it was just all just hours of corporate nonsense bullshit that barely relates to our jobs and ultimately means nothing #i swear not a single thing was retained in my brain bc none of it was anything of substance #plus an interlude of the most painfully awkward queer inclusivity training ever sat through #which like 1 half the ppl in that room were openly and visibly queer like have you met like any library staff ever?? #and 2 the speaker managed to do it in a way that frustrated every single person there somehow #and the food was bad and they scheduled 500 breaks so the whole thing couldve been over in half the time #and they gave us so many fidget toys which im still trying to decide if thats patronizing or not #bc on one hand im glad i had them or else i wouldve lost my entire mind #but on the other they literally gave a room full of grown ass adults cheap plastic toys so theyll sit still for 6 hrs so #they whole thing was just messy but its done and now i dont have to work this weekend #work adventures #shhh julie

[sttoru]

·.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. thinking about true form!sukuna having a huge size kink (+ corruption kink).

word count. 2.6k

note. super self-indulgent. cant rlly blame me for creating this. also do you see those big ass hands in the header i used? yeah.. says enough (this sucks ass)

tags. dom heian era!sukuna x concubine!female reader. smut. porn with plot. size kink / size difference (reader gets referred to as ‘short’ & ‘small’). p in v -> unprotected. degradation. corruption kink (reader gets referred to as ‘naive’, 'shy' & innocent’-looking). tummy bulging. loss of virginity mention. hymen breaking mention. cervix fucking, ouch. lots of teasing. tiny bit of choking. tiny mention of blood tasting ? idk. hint at anal / double penetration. dirty talk. sukuna has two of everything btw mehehe. reader get called ‘woman, brat, slut, little'.

sukuna is intrigued by you. he’s always been, since the moment he’s laid his eyes upon you. your loyalty and devotion to him are two aspects that the king of curses likes most about you. .

. . after your innocence.

it nearly irked him. every time he saw you hanging around the estate without a single care in the world. sukuna would attempt to intimidate you with serious threats. he’d loom over your short stature and look down at you with a malicious glint in his eyes. though, none of it seemed to work.

you'd only bow your head at him and apologise if you’ve caused him any possible inconveniences. it annoyed the sorcerer. you weren’t trembling in fear like all the others would — it was like there was nothing going on in that head of yours. especially when you smile at him. which no one actually dares to do.

sukuna could crush you. with no effort. one big hand would be enough to pick your entire body up, lift you in the air and throw you around like a ragdoll. you don’t seem to fear the possibility of that happening, even when being faced with a pissed off sukuna.

it’s truly intriguing and amusing. that’s why sukuna kept you around every day — as a form of entertainment, he called it. one thing led to the other and you eventually ended up as one of his concubines. the king of curses himself decided to grant you that promotion.

why? because not only does your fragile body, reserved and polite personality and innocence secretly fascinate him — it also makes him crave you. crave to shatter that naivety of yours. to take that small body of yours and make it feel what it means to be overpowered by a man twice your size.

sukuna does not regret his decision to make you his concubine. the first night you spent together was one of the best nights he had ever had. in all his many years of living. not a single woman had ever succeeded in blowing his mind when it came to sex.

it was usually boring and repetitive for the sorcerer. he felt nothing for those women he’s had in bed before — it was solely for the fact of satisfying himself. though, that changed on the day you had given him your virginity.

he remembers every detail; from your little noises of both pain and pleasure, your tight and untouched pussy that bled faintly when the fat tip of his lower cock pushed through, your nails that dug into his arms and back, your thighs that he held to your chest, his large hands that could easily wrap around the fat of them, your aching cunt that was left spasming around air as it tried to keep his sticky cum stored in place.

sukuna didn’t think your tears would affect him as much. when he took your virginity and you whimpered in pain — he did feel a twinge of guilt. it was strange; he hadn’t felt that emotion before. he had stopped and wiped your tears away. roughly whispered some words of encouragement too.

he had never done so before. never. he had never told anyone how ‘good’ they were for him. how he’d be ‘careful’ to not make it hurt any more. the king of curses recalls vividly how slow he started with you. slow sex. instead of rough like he’s used to.

sukuna wasn’t chasing after his own pleasure in that moment like he’d usually have. his main priority was to make sure the girl below him was comfortable enough to continue. you’re strange. the things you make him do, say and feel are strange. and yet. . .

it was an amazing night. the best. however sukuna was left behind with an insatiable hunger for you. more, more, more. he can’t grasp it yet; why he longs for you. for those feelings he’s suddenly capable of experiencing during intimate moments.

it’s why he calls for you every night. no other concubine was needed after you were made one. the king of curses couldn’t care less about those other women. they are boring to him.

unlike you. the one he’s sure that he won’t ever get bored of.

“you can take me so well now,” sukuna breathes out. one of his cocks was inches deep inside you, bulbous tip painfully hitting your cervix. over the past few weeks, your body had learnt to adjust to him, your pussy molded to fit the shape of his dick.

sukuna looks down at you and his cocks twitch with the urge to release already. his heavy balls clenching. your fucked out state is adorable. you seemed so.. vulnerable underneath the big man, “what a fragile little thing.”

it almost sounded condescending. degrading. especially with sukuna’s lips being curled up into a mean grin, his sharp canines showing. there was a puddle of your cum forming underneath your hips — staining the sheets that the poor servants have to clean by tomorrow morning.

“p-please, fngh, ‘s too big,” you sputter out. no matter how many times you took sukuna in, your smaller body couldn’t quite fully accommodate to the girth of him. every time he hits your deepest parts, you let out a painful whimper.

sukuna kisses his teeth, though slows his thrusts a bit. the wet sounds of his cum and yours getting pushed in and out of your cunt with each move was too addicting. what sukuna loves most is the view of the skin of your lower abdomen swelling and stretching each time he pushes forward.

“i thought you said you’d take both of my cocks today, yet it seems like you can’t even handle one,” the king of curses sighs whilst belittling you. one set of hands is holding you down by your hips, the other set is fondling your stiff nipples and circling your sensitive clit, “what a pity. a real pity.”

you almost choke on your spit as all your sensitive spots were being fondled. sukuna’s thick fingers leave no place untouched as he increases the tempo again—his cock plunging in and out of your stretched hole. the upper one was twitching, rubbing against your clit and lower abdomen.

sukuna harshly grabs your jaw and makes you look up at him after he hears you apologise for making empty promises. he seems satisfied with you staying so polite. even when he’s practically rearranging your guts. the way you talk through your soft sobs and cries is endearing. makes him grin wickedly.

“i don’t want to break my favourite little concubine yet, you see,” sukuna continues. he lets out a grunt of pleasure when your pussy clenches around his thick cock. no matter how many times he fucks you dumb, you still remain as tight as the first time.

he takes in a deep breath. he’s trying his best not to pound you into the mattress. he’d fold you in half and probably break you like the fragile thing you are. he could snap you like a twig if he wasn’t careful, “. . .but you’re making it very difficult for me.”

you respond by apologising again. oh, how cute it was to see you babble and make up excuses. sukuna grits his teeth, jaw clenching as he resists the urge to go harder on you. you’re already squirming and moaning loudly just because he’s fucking you hard and deep—bruising your cervix and forcing your walls to open up to him.

“‘m sorry, wanna take both.” you hiccup and sniffle. tears ran down your cheeks from overstimulation. it felt so good yet so painful to be taken by the person you admire most. you didn’t want to displease him, so you uttered those hopeless yet needy sentences again.

sukuna stops his movements when you weakly ask him to use both of his cocks on you. he scoffs, not knowing where you gained the confidence from. he pulls out of your dripping cunt, leaving a trail of cum connecting both your genitalia.

“‘wanna take both,’ she says,” sukuna mocks you under his breath. it’s getting worse; he’s nearing the point of no return. especially with your desperate whines that were like music to his ears, “you’ll break, woman.”

two of his hands move to stroke along his lengths, smearing the mixture of body fluids all over them. his eyes glare down at your small form—already fucked out, yet aching to continue. needing the full experience for once.

you always turn from a shy girl to a complete slut whenever he has you in bed. sukuna loves it.

“i want to try at the very least,” you mutter. it’s true that you’re exhausted. you’re catching your breath now that you got the chance, tired eyes glancing up at sukuna’s enormous stature between your legs, his defined muscles and the tattoos on them glistening under the faint light of the oil lamp.

it got your pussy throbbing and clamping down around air. you felt a bit light headed and your head lolls back against the pillow, eyes glazed over as you try to seem determined. but your body was tired.

“yeah? how. . . cute,” sukuna grins. he knows you can’t. not today at least. he doesn’t mind if you aren’t capable of taking him fully since you’ve already pleased him well enough for now. though, he still can’t help but tease you—make it seem like he’s going to give you what you want, “all right. don’t say i didn’t warn you.”

your eyes widen and your fingers curl around the silky bedsheets beneath you in anticipation. your heart is pounding in your chest as you watch sukuna pump his two cocks a bit faster, squeezing the base a bit, leaking some pre.

it’s all just for show.

“i’m not stopping. even if you scream.” the king of curses warns you with a dangerous glint in his eyes. you gulp at the terrifying aura sukuna was emitting. one of his tips teases your entrance whilst the other probes and circles around your anus.

he threatens you again, testing if you’ll back down, “last chance. i’m not pulling out once i’m in, do y’hear me?”

you keep being stubborn until the very last second. sukuna’s deep voice that shook you to your core was not enough to make you change your mind. you were so desperate to fulfill his every need and make sure that he was satisfied. it made you the perfect woman in his eyes.

the king of curses is completely amused. he decides to take it up a notch. he pushes his lower cock against the tight ring of muscles, pressing and nearly allowing the tip to move in. the sudden increase in pressure is torturous. you surely wouldn’t be able to withstand the entire thing.

“w-wait!” you squeal in surprise and pain. the sting you felt made you snap back into reality. it’s when you realised that maybe you needed more time and experience to take both of sukuna’s dicks. you squirm your hips away, “can’t. i can’t.. hurts too much.”

sukuna nearly rolls his eyes once you finally give in. he shakes his head with a sigh, feigning disapproval and annoyance. he pulls his entire body away from yours—a ominous shadow casted over his eyes. it makes you think that he’s pissed off at you; for being unable to please him.

you panic a little. even if you are sure sukuna wouldn’t ever hurt you. you know he favours you over the other concubines. you don’t want to lose that position.

“i’m sorry.” you apologise before the sorcerer could say anything. he lets out a sharp breath, rough hands back on your body, kneading your flesh gently yet firmly. his eyes take in the view of you trembling.

it’s unreal. you are half his size—completely vulnerable underneath him. he’d normally call people like you weak and useless. wouldn’t feel a thing for them. but your naked body below his is a sight he wishes to see every night.

it turns sukuna on so much. the fact that you are helpless and don’t complain when you’re struggling to take one of his cocks gets him going each time.

“tsk. what’d i tell you?” sukuna grumbles. he slaps his lower cock firmly against your clit. your body responds by closing your thighs together, though the king of curses pries them apart again, “stop overestimating yourself, brat.”

he isn’t actually mad. it was expected—of course you couldn’t take both at once. he didn’t even prep your other hole enough. plus you are clearly still exhausted from the previous rounds. sukuna just likes to. . . test and take advantage of your devotion to him. your obedience and desires to please him.

it’s fascinating to see you squirm and apologise in that whiny voice of yours. it makes him grin from ear to ear. and it keeps things fun.

before you could mutter excuses again, sukuna stops you by leaning in. just when you thought you’d finally get to kiss him, he goes to bite down on your bottom lip. a moan slips out of your mouth which only spurs him on to bite down harder.

you could feel the devilish smirk on sukuna against your lip. his wet tongue cleans up the tiny drop of blood that escaped the wound. he lets out a low hum in approval at the taste. delicious as always.

“now, how should i punish my little concubine for being unable to keep her word?” sukuna whispers in a serious tone. it sends shivers down your spine, his hot breath traveling from your jaw to your right ear. he slowly licks your earlobe, “what do you say? any ideas?”

the tension in the room was palpable. your heart was stammering in your throat from the proximity between the two of you. you gather the courage to answer as sukuna’s fingers curl around your neck, squeezing your throat as if forcing the answer out of you.

“i-i’ll do anything, sir.” you reply through a shaky breath. the king of curses pulls back after he’s got a response from you. your eyes meet his and that’s when you know that you’ve either greatly pleased him or have given him the chance to go all out on you.

it’s probably both.

“anything, you say?” sukuna repeats slowly. without a warning, he effortlessly flips you over on your stomach, a set of hands pulling your ass up by your hips whilst the other set holds your upper body down on the mattress.

a harsh grip on the back of your head results into you whimpering. your face was mushed into a pillow, almost leaving no place to breathe. your back is placed in the perfect arch with your plump ass facing up. it’s one of sukuna’s favourite positions to do with you — especially because it makes you seem smaller than you already are.

“heh. i’ll make you regret saying that.” sukuna chuckles. a low, evil and wicked chuckle. that’s enough to make you realise that he was not going easy on you. your submission had greatly impressed the king of curses and he's taking advantage of it. again.

what would come next could be a reward for that said submission. he’s going to fuck your brains out and make you forget about everything else except for his dick. a night you won’t ever forget as long as you live—that’s a possibility.

or perhaps you’re going to be crying and begging him to go easy on you. a punishment for not being able to keep your promise. that could also happen.

anyway, you’re about to find out which one it is.

#sttoru writes. #jjk smut #jjk x reader #sukuna smut #sukuna x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #female reader

[actualsunflower]

We saw you join the falloutwiki server after we invited you, but you left? We can't find you there anymore!

Im an incredibly skilled join-immediatly-leave-er in pretty much every server there is in the fallout fandom. Also we talked in person I know who you are whyd you send me an anon

I went on a slightly unrelated rant in the tags LMAO I already wrote it there's no going back

#sorry i saw the list and would rather not #have some affiliations that make me uncomfortable #sorry :/ #sunflower asks #plus servers i usually stay in are either ones i joined when i was like 18-19 and then. uh actually that's it #besides a few mod servers now since im learning. but strictly adult ones #kinda makes me sad now that i think about it. cause i joined all those when i was 18-19 and mad and easily influenced #so i made a lot of decisions i regret. and was very easily influenced by a couple ppl #and i feel very stupid about it. i was younger and eager to make friends! those friends were not good choices #and i ended up being pretty awful to some very nice people bcs i wanted to stay close friends with the other ppl #not going to name names obviously. #those ppl were awesome and made me feel very welcome and are some of the only ppl who are actually into the same things i am #but i was really awful to them bcs there was someone i liked on what ill call the 'opposite' side of what we were into #and i wanted that person to keep liking me. but they were very very vocal abt being grossed out w this and that.. stuff the rest of us were #actually into and happy abt. stuff im STILL into now and was into in the past. but pretended i wasnt so that person would still like me #and it got me really fucked up. and that person we're still friends but rarely talk anymore #and it didnt go anywhere however that was my choice as i realized id made a really really big mistake #mind you. person reading my way too long and oversharing tags. this was like.. 2 or 3 years ago now? #and i STILL feel bad about it. I literally think about it 5-6 times a week. and not like in passing like genuinely often genuinely bad #im actually an adult now and actually got my stuff together by pretty much cutting every single person i knew off entirely #and spent 2 years just suffering doing nothing completely alone. and now it's impossible to make friends #and i feel really really bad about it. i shouldve been and behaved better. but i didnt and really paid the price for it #and i feel very isolated and alone pretty much constantly. i dont think i will ever find a group of people who were so accepting and kind #and actually into what i was into with zero judgment again. cause we're not a big fandom. and those were pretty much the only ones #ive wanted to reach out to apologize on multiple occasions but figured it wouldnt matter #then i remembered 2 of those ppl owe me art i paid for and never got..... so i think about that often too..... #ah the irony there. it is not lost on me #but yeah thanks for reading this fucking ESSAY in the tags

[maxtermind]

baby, would i still be your lover?

★ : summary :: when he accidentally insults you during an argument ★ : feat :: max verstappen, lewis hamilton, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, lando norris ★ : genre :: angst ★ : word count :: 2.9k ★ : a/n :: as much as i love making the crack texts, i'm just an angst addict 😔

Max Verstappen

Everyone, people who weren’t even in Max’s close proximity, knew that he was impulsive and a little reckless. With you, on the contrary, Max was usually a think first, act later kind of a lover. That wasn’t to say that when arguments happened, they were a pretty sight to look at.

It was a single thing that you said which suddenly turned into a huge blown out argument, leaving your head throbbing as Max continued to vent his frustrations about unrelated issues.

"You're so hot-headed, you can't even have a normal conversation without blowing up."

"Attacking me now, are you?" Max retorted, his tone defensive.

He was quick to bite back and the ball in your throat made it scratch-y to talk. You were sure that your eyes were welling up with tears but he was too far away to see it.

"I'm just stating the truth.” You started after taking a shuddering breath. “Every time we talk, it turns into a fight because you can't control your temper."

"Well, maybe if you didn't push all my buttons, we wouldn't be here."

He was talking in the same decibel at least and for a second you had hope that everything would be better. Then his words registered and the hope vanished as well.

"I'm not the one who flies off the handle at the slightest provocation!"

You had to stop and take another breath, otherwise, you were going to start crying and this conversation was inevitably going to get left in between because Max wasn’t an asshole who was okay with his girlfriend crying just because he was angry.

"You know what? I'm sick of your constant criticism."

"And I'm sick of walking on eggshells around you!"

He took a moment to say the next thing. The silence indicating that he was thinking it over first. Max's next words hung in the air, heavy with implication.

"Fine, maybe we should just call it quits then."

The suggestion hit you like a punch to the gut. Was this really that easy for him? He just ripped your heart out and splashed it on the ground. Your chest hurt so much and he was just sitting there? Was he not at all affected by the way you looked close to crying now?

"Fine. Enjoy being single and available," you retorted, your voice trembling with suppressed emotion.

Your boyfriend rolled his eyes looking over at you, indicating how he didn’t really think that you guys were breaking up. Though in your head, this was the last time you were ever going to look into his eyes again.

"You're too sensitive, always getting upset over nothing."

You were already on the edge, not having even processed that you guys almost- probably did break up over you trying to talk something out with him.

“Us breaking up is nothing to you?”

The weight of his words crashed over you, the tears finally spilling down your cheeks. Max's expression softened, regret flashing in his eyes, but it was too late. The damage had been done, and the fragile bond between you felt irreparably shattered.

Lewis Hamilton

How can one tell if they really are in a good relationship? Is it the security and sense of peace? Is it the frequent love confessions? Honestly, the explanation might differ person to person but one thing you always believed that made a relationship was being level headed even during arguments when emotions were running high

Needless to say, you were very glad you found solace in Lewis. A person who was prone to recognizing the impact of his words. Arguments between you two were rare, and when they did occur, Lewis prioritized finding solutions rather than escalating the conflict. His ability to remain level-headed during disagreements was a cornerstone of your relationship.

Everyone has those days though, when acting out of character seems more suitable than the usual. Moments when emotions override reason.

You were more worked up than usual. Your insides were burning with this desire to get answers because your boyfriend wasn’t there with you on the day you needed him the most.

You drove back home from your conference, dismayed despite it being a very successful session, given that your proposal got accepted as soon as you were done. You just wished your chocolate eyed man was sitting in the crowd looking at you with his signature proud smile.

After a shower, you sat on your couch to watch some show and just move on from the bittersweet day. It was an hour later, when your boyfriend showed up with a bouquet in his hand. Lewis walked over to you and leaned down to kiss your head.

“Congratulations, love," he greeted, oblivious to the storm brewing within you. “Saw it on the news, sorry I couldn’t join you. Got caught up with work.”

Usually, you would have avoided the argument till you felt like you could understand his side too. That was one of the things that helped you guys the most. You both waited to discuss stuff till you knew you were calm and ready to get what the other was saying.

“Aren’t you too busy with work lately?”

He gave a humorous huff in return, not catching on.

“You know how it is once the season starts.”

“You literally got home last night and you had to go in again early in the morning?”

“Missed me?”

He had a playful grin on his face and it killed you to spoil the good mood.

"Of course, after all you're more committed to your cars than you are to me."

The words left your mouth and you were too far gone to be caring about it at this point. Lewis has been such a passionate lover so this sudden shift was hurting you.

“What was that?” he responded, his tone sharp with surprise.

However, you were done and already up to call in early but his words stopped you on our track.

“Wow. You're so insecure, it's exhausting trying to boost your ego all the time."

Tears immediately welled up in your eyes but you didn’t turn around and with a deflated sigh, walked into your bedroom before locking the door while Lewis stood frozen in his place, not believing his own words.

It was like he was in a stance and all he could do was listen to you cry through the closed door on a day when you guys were supposed to be celebrating each other’s wins.

Carlos Sainz

Carlos was the perfect man. His mature yet easy going demeanor was exactly what you needed in a partner. You hadn't been together for that long to be at the altar but just enough to know that you were going to last.

You understood the demands on Carlos's time, with his career in the spotlight of the racing world when you decided to say yes to a date with him. Carlos was left with very less time away from all the glam, media and the track. Making it precious because of how rare it was.

You mostly accompanied him and let him drag you around to wherever he wanted once he had the break. So imagine your surprise when the only time you made some pretty important plans and he refused to tag alone.

"I can’t believe you’re saying no to this," you protested, frustration bubbling beneath the surface.

“I’m not saying no to anything, Carina.” He kissed your knuckles to un-knot the strong fist you’ve made of them. “I’m just suggesting we do it some other time.”

"But this is the third time, Carlos!" You stood up, unable to contain your hurt and disappointment. “Sorry if meeting my parents is such a chore for you.”

“You’re putting words in my mouth now.” Carlos responded with a sigh, attempting to pull you into a hug, which you reluctantly accepted. “It's not about it being a chore. You know I'd do anything for you, Y/N."

"I do know that, but actions speak louder than words, Carlos. My family is important to me."

“I promise that I want to meet them. I do. It's just… the timing."

"I don't want promises, Carlos. I want actions. If you can't even make it to meet my parents, what does that say about our future?" You insisted with a heavy heart, putting distance between you two.

"You're blowing this out of proportion, Y/N." Carlos countered, frustration evident in his voice.

"Out of proportion? I just wanted you to meet my family, and you can't even do that!"

“Well, I don’t have time to waste on this! If you want to go, just go alone!” His words hung in the air, a sharp pang of hurt piercing through you.

You immediately took a step back and saw him do the same. Both of you standing there as the silence stretched, contemplating in silence what exactly the next course of action was going to be.

“Y/N, I…” He trailed off as you glared at your foot, trying to hold the tears in before one eventually slipped and fell down your cheek.

“Baby, no! Don’t cry!” He panicked about extending his hand, about to touch you but you flinched away and shook your head.

“Carlos, if you think I’ll just ignore what you said ten seconds ago then you’re very wrong.” You whispered, your voice thick and husky.

Guess you were the only one from you both expecting this relationship to last. A second later, you were clutching your bag in your hand and walking towards the exit, speaking up before Carlos could beg you once again to ‘sit and talk it out.’

“Don’t,” you interrupted, your voice barely a whisper. “Thanks for letting me know that our time together was time wasted for you.”

You walked out with his heart in your pocket, your own splashed on the floor of your apartment.

Charles Leclerc

Charles was the love of your life, the very time you saw him smile at you from across the room igniting a spark in you that shaped your future together.

He walked over to you with a pretty girl hanging onto his arm, leaving the impression that they were more than friends. Everyone around you was also convinced at the time that they were dating but Charles bluntly flirting with proved just how different the real life scenario was.

Pippa was just his ‘best friend,’ someone who throws side eyes at you every time you and your boyfriend are in close proximity to her. Despite nearly a year together, her hostility persisted, the woman was a different kind of vicious. Hell bent on draining your energy.

It was physically exhausting being around her with her catty sarcastic tone that Charles always failed to notice. It was just another one of those days and Charles dismissed your concerns as usual, leaving you frustrated.

This time it was pissing you off greatly.

"Doesn't she realize we're together?" You rolled your eyes.

Charles remained silent and that drew your brows together.

“Charles, does she not think we’re serious?”

“I don't think so. She's always been oblivious to these things.”

And honestly? That fucking hurt. It hurt to know that Charles noticed this but was still rather quick to defend her every time.

"But we've been together almost a year?”

"Baby, she just never pays attention.” His arm pulled you closer to his chest. “Or maybe she doesn't want to see it."

"Do you think she has feelings for you?”

There it was, the truth out in the open. As much as it made you want to die to say it out loud and acknowledge it, your body felt lighter while the comforting arm around your waist began to feel heavier.

"I don't know. Maybe?” Charles’ chest heaved with a deep sigh, "It's complicated?"

The heart beating in your chest stopped for a long second because of how unconcerned your boyfriend seemed right now. Was he seriously just going to accept that a person he has shared so much history with wants to steal him from you?

“It’s not that simple, darling. she's been a friend for years.”

“Yeah, well, friends don't act like that. She’s just what? Waiting for the right moment to swoop in and steal you away from me?”

Charles did not like it because the arm was moved away from you in a second and he was sitting a bit straighter now. He looked furious and ready to defend his best friend and all that was running through your head was how he would probably not do the same for you in front of her.

"That's enough, Y/N. You're being paranoid."

"Paranoid? Or realistic? Face it, Charles, you're so blind when it comes to her. It makes me feel so small compared to her!"

Charles, frustrated and defensive, ran a hand through his hair and shot back,"Don't flatter yourself thinking Pippa gives a damn about you or me."

Lando Norris

No one could deny the magnetic pull Lando had on everyone around him. It was, after all, what drew you to him in the first place. You had your biases but he broke through them all with his shameless at worst and awkward at best flirting.

However, as you stood in a quiet corner to hide from the crowd, you couldn’t find it in yourself to sympathize with Lando. He had brought you to this glamorous social event, flashes of camera and expensive drinks overflowing all around you.

You were extremely excited to accompany your boyfriend especially since he had such an amazing season but throughout the evening, Lando was constantly pulled away by enthusiastic fans and demanding media, leaving you aside feeling like an accessory rather than his partner.

Standing in a quiet corner, you couldn't help but feel a pang of envy as you watched other couples bask in each other's company. You didn’t even know where Lando was at this very second.

Then, suddenly, his arms enveloped you from behind, his lips pressing gently against your head. "I'm sorry, babe. Everyone here just wants a piece of me," he murmured, attempting to console you.

You sighed and tried to calm yourself so you wouldn't explode in front of everyone, "I understand, but I miss spending time with you."

"I promise, I'll make it up to you tonight." Lando winked, keeping the conversation light.

That was all he said before someone from your left approached him again and your safety haven spot under the stairs was crowded with journalists a second later. You rolled your eyes before walking away, with half a mind to grab a cab and leave.

It was on your way back home when your patience finally ran its course as you listened to your boyfriend go on and on about how much of a success the event was.

“Why did you even take me with you?” You interrupted, your tone tinged with hurt and watched as the smile on his face got replaced with a frown.

“What?”

“I mean… you barely clicked two pictures with me and then left me to fetch for myself? You didn’t even come stand with me for more than a minute?”

"Babe, I'm sorry, but this is part of the job."

"I get it, but it doesn't make it easier.” You felt your own body shudder because of how overwhelmed you felt. “You were there talking to everyone but me!”

Lando opened his mouth to say something but you weren’t done yet.

“They were all strangers to me and you didn’t even acknowledge this! I was standing there alone the whole time, watching others and wondering why my boyfriend wasn’t there for me!”

The weight of your words hung heavily in the air, and for a moment, there was silence. You stopped to take a breath and not start crying. Then, Lando spoke, his words struck like a knife to the heart.

“This isn’t… This isn’t about you. Why are you always making it about you?”

Your body froze after that and your mind went blank. You didn’t care that the tears were running out of your eyes or that apologies were falling from his mouth. His own eyes were welling up because he knew.

He knew what he said was unacceptable.

You were so zoned out that as soon as the car stopped, you got out of the car. Thankful to catch the glimpse of yellow among the traffic before you hailed a taxi, the distance between you and Lando growing with each passing moment.

He attempted to hold your arm, his own tears falling down his face. You just wanted to put your point across but with his reaction, you were certain you guys were done for.

“I guess I expected a little too much from you, Lando.”

With a heavy heart, you walked away, knowing that sometimes love wasn't enough to mend the fractures in a relationship.

©maxtermind // do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms.

#★ : my work ! #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula one x reader #formula 1 #f1 #f1 fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #f1 imagine #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton imagine #carlos sainz #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz imagine #f1 angst #f1 fluff #hurt/comfort

[gojonanami]

THE DOCTOR IS IN - SATORU GOJO

✴︎ summary: aka medical intern / doctor in training gojo. when you go to your annual check-up, you didn't think you'd be crushing on your doctor - or that he's conduct such an in-depth examination - in more than one way. ✴︎ contents: 18+, a lot of smut, implied cheating (but there's no cheating), improper use of a medical questioning and an exam room, improper use of a tongue depressor, panty sniffing, semi-exhibitionism (but not really), fingering (f!receiving), oral (f! receiving), semi-public sex, sex in an exam room ✴︎ wc: 2,573

It was just a checkup. 

You sit, using your phone as you wait for the doctor, squirming on the uncomfortable exam paper drawn over the patient bed — so why were you so nervous? 

And then there’s a knock at the door, and he walks in — but it’s not your usual doctor. 

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you,” the white haired man grins widely, and you’re taken aback by how good he looks dressed in his white coat — if he had been your doctor before, you never would have missed a single one of your appointments, “My name is Satoru Gojo, and I’m a medical student that’ll be helping out today,” he offers his hand, and you take it, shaking his hand. 

“It’s nice to meet you too,” you smile, introducing yourself by name, and he sits on the chair in front of you. Without his white coat and stethoscope around his neck, he could have looked more like a model than a medical student. You wouldn’t be surprised if he had been offered gigs modeling for his medical school’s brochures — hell, you were regretting not going to medical school right now. 

He’s right down to business, crossing his leg over the other, “Do you mind if I ask you a few questions about you, what brings you here, and your personal and medical history?” he asks, clipboard and pen in hand, lips curling. 

“Not at all, Doctor,” 

“Call me Satoru,” he smiles, and you can’t help but smile back. And then he’s running through the usual list of questions — name, occupation, date of birth, smoking status, drugs, prescription list, and all the other questions medical providers need to ask patients, “and sexual history?” 

You tilt your head, flushing, “Can you be more specific?” 

And he’s leaning back, pen pausing in its scribbling, as he glances up to clarify, “Are you sexually active?” 

You lick your dry lips, squirming under his gaze that suddenly feels heavier than before, “Yes, I am,” and he nods.

“Do you have a partner?” 

You nod, “I have a boyfriend,”

His eyes rake over you discreetly, “Must be pretty handsome to date a woman like you,” he remarks, — did he always flirt with his patients? Because he certainly will have good patient retention at that rate.  

“He’s also a little full of himself,” and you see a slight purse of his lips, as he raises an eyebrow, “but he’s very, very cute,” 

“Oh is he? Good to know,” he sighs, pressing the top of the pen to his lips, drawing your eyes to his lips, “and how often do you engage in sexual activity?” 

You have to pause before you answer — god, when were you going to move off this topic? “Pretty often, almost every day, usually,” you clear your throat, unable to meet his gaze, as he nods. 

“And are you satisfied?” 

And you raise an eyebrow, “is that relevant?” 

“Oh, this is a physical, we like to be very thorough,” and you swallow thickly — well this was uncomfortable — but he only looked…almost amused, “Well?” 

“Most of the time,” you shrug.

“Most of the time?” he repeats, placing his clipboard lower, clearly far too interested. 

“My boyfriend has been pretty busy with work lately, it’s been pretty lonely,” your eyes finally finding his own, deep blues darkening a shade. 

And his lips quirk, “Oh I see, I’m sorry to hear that, but I won’t be leaving you alone anytime soon,” he winks, and he’s rising to his feet, as he draws slower, “I think we can move onto the actual physical exam now,” and he’s pulling his stethoscope out as he draws near, kneeling instead of standing — because what else can you do beside a couch instead of a hospital bed — “I’m going to listen to your heartbeat,” 

God, he smells good. 

You try not to bite your lip at him — he was so pretty, up close even more so, his long snow white eyelashes fluttering and his perfect pink lips so kissable — but no, no, this was inappropriate. This was a doctor’s office. 

And he’s putting the stethoscope in his ears, pressing the metal diaphragm to your chest, “Oh, your heart’s racing,” he murmurs, leaning in even closer, warm breath warming your skin, “wonder why that is — this may call for further examination,” 

“Is this concerning?” and he’s tilting your chin up, far too close to your face. 

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, you’re in good hands,” he’s moving the stethoscope to your back, pressing the metal end to listen to your lungs, “please take deep breaths for me,” and you do, biting your lip, as he leans against you as he moves the diaphragm to four different points, his chest brushing against your shoulder, “I see,” he murmurs, “have you been experiencing any aches or pains anywhere?” 

You swallow, “My throat has been hurting a little,” and he nods, grabbing a tongue depressor. 

“Let me take a look, now stick out your tongue and say ‘ah,’” and you do as he says as he presses the tongue depressor down, “good girl,” he murmurs, making your cheeks warm at his words — fuck. 

His eyes scan your mouth, pressing against your tongue harder, “I don’t see anything unusual,” as he pulls the depressor back, skimming your tongue teasingly, but still, his face is so close to yours, and he notices your breath catching, “but I may need to do a closer examination if you…consent,” 

“If I consent?” You ask slowly, his lips a breath away, and his thumb drags down your lips, “Satoru—“ 

“Do you consent?” And he’s leaning even closer, noses brushing, and you only can manage a nod, “use your words, Princess,” 

“Yes, please,” and he only smirks, as his lips brush yours — so soft and teasing, his fingers cup along your jaw. He tastes of sugar and warmth, his tongue teasing your lips, until they part, dragging over your tongue, the very same he had just examined. He draws easy moans from you, one after another, before he pulls away, a string of spit connecting your lips. 

“I didn’t see any issues, but I am concerned about your throat,” and he’s kissing a burning trail down your jaw to the hollow of your throat, “feels a little swollen here—“ and his teeth grazes the soft skin there, “it may need a closer look,” and he’s licking and sucking, dragging his tongue over your sweet skin. 

And you’re nearly panting at this point, as he smiles at you, pressing another kiss to your lips, and you raise an eyebrow, “was that you checking again?” And he laughs, lips curling, as his fingers slide to the small of your back. 

“You can be too sure,” and he’s kissing you again, and he doesn’t miss the way your thighs press together, “think the problem may lie elsewhere,” and his hands drag down your sides before finding your thighs, and you gasp, as he parts them, your fingers pressing into your soft flesh, “feels very warm here, and almost irritated — it may be an infection,” he hums, as his thumbs toy with the waistband of your shorts, “I may need to get a closer look,” 

“Satoru—” you whine, and pulling at your shorts now, and he’s looking up at you with lidded, lustful eyes. 

“Would the patient like some help removing her clothes for the examination?” and you only can manage a nod, and he accepts it this time, pulling your shorts down, “don’t worry, I’m a medical professional, I know just what treatments are acceptable in cases such as these,” and your shorts pool around your ankles, before you’re kicking them off. 

And his eyes linger on the damp, dark patch on your underwear, “oh? I see the problem,” you gasp as he presses his thumb against your puffy clit through the thin fabric, “it’s so swollen, so warm — I’m going to have to do a very thorough exam of this area,” and he’s snapping the fabric against your skin, making your squirm, “so sensitive,” he hums as he tugs down your underwear, sniffing your panties, before pocketing them, “a sample, I’ll keep it for further testing,” he winks, before he unbuttons his cuffs, rolling up the sleeves of his light blue button up. 

His eyes darken as his eyes rake over your exposed cunt, “are you ready to begin?” And he waits for your nod, before his fingers part your messy folds, as his arms pin your thighs in place, “so wet, do you hear that, sweetheart?” And his finger sinks into your needy pussy, squelching, “practically swallowing me in,” he grunts, licking his lips, “gonna need to probe a little deeper,” and a second finger is joining the first, fucking you open in earnest, as he pulls another moan from your lips, “s’good for me, but still I can’t figure out what’s wrong, maybe I just need to inspect this area further,” his hands sliding your thighs over his shoulders, pressing a languid kiss to your inner thigh. 

And then his lips brush against your clit, making you squirm, his tongue darting out to drag lazy circles around it. God, you were so close, “don’t be so loud, there are other patients who might hear you — they might wonder what kind of exam I’m doing,” and you’re holding back your cries, biting your bottom lip. as his fingers and tongue bully your insides, “so tight, think I need to loosen you up before the final test,” 

“I’m, ngh, close—“ and his lips close over your clit, sucking hard, and that’s enough for you to fall over the edge. You’re moaning, walls twitching around his fingers, your thighs, as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm, lapping up every bit of your release. Your cunt twitches as you come down from your pleasure high, as you look down at him with half lidded eyes, gaze deep and dark, laced with lust as you watch him lick your release from his lips and chin. 

“Such a good baby, you did so good,” he’s pressing sweet kisses to your neck and face, until he’s letting you taste yourself on his lips, swallowing your moans eagerly, “haven’t even figured out what’s wrong and look at the state you’re in now,” he tsks, as he rubs the length of your cheek with his thumb, before kissing your jaw, “we still have more work to do,” as he eases your quivering legs off his shoulders. 

And he’s undoing his belt, the clink of the buckle drawing your eyes to his thighs, as he tugs down his slacks and boxers, as it slaps against your stomach. Your lips part at the sight of him, thick and long — a white head of precum, dripping from the engorged tip. 

Fuck, he’s huge, and he chuckles at your expression, “Like what you see, sweetheart?” As he drags his weeping erection along your sensitive pussy, “so messy, gonna have to see what’s going on inside, I have a feeling it’s very deep,” his fingers lift one of your legs over his shoulder, “are you ready?” 

And you’re nodding, “please, I need—“ and he’s parting your folds, past that delicious ring of muscle, kissing the deepest part of you with his tip, as your lips part in a groan, “Toru—“ 

“That’s it, s’good for me,” he’s grunting, as he pulls out only to slam back in, “best little patient, aren’t you? With your perfect princess cunt, made just for me,” 

“Figure out the — ngh — the problem yet?” You tease. 

He only grins, as he gives a nasty thrust of his hips, wiping all sense from your head, “Filthy case of pretty Princess cunt — PPC — and it’s a particularly bad one,” he’s slowing down to stretch out the wet squelch of your cunt, “hear that? It’s the sound of your pussy latching onto me, practically strangling my cock,” and he’s picking up speed, as he lifts your other leg over his shoulder and — fuck how is he going deeper? 

“Gonna come in for all your appointments and let me fuck you, right? Gonna fill you right, you have just what you need, the perfect medicine is this dick in this cunt, and the prescription is for every day, sweetheart,” he’s pistoning in and out of you, “pretty baby keeps pulling me back in, it may be incurable,” but he’s only fucking you harder, “but I’m going to try.” 

The hospital bed is certainly ruined by now, from the creaks and groans it’s giving, it’s nearly as close to breaking as you are. Just a little deeper, a little more. 

“Taking me so well, such a good girl,” his cock is twitching inside you, “fuck, s’good f’me, just for me,” 

“Toru, ‘m close,” and his hips are stuttering, as he groans your name. 

“Cum f’me, sweetheart,” and you do — your orgasm has you gripping him tight, as he continues to fuck you through it, rough thrusts that has you moaning far too loud, “close, gonna cum—where—“ 

“Inside, please,” and your eyes find his, lust blown out, as your hips grind against his, “I need my medicine,” 

And he only groans in reply, sinking his cock as deep as he can before cumming, his warm seed filling you up, as his hips jerk against yours once, twice, before he’s easing your legs down, to lay on top of you. 

Both of your heavy pants fill the room, as his face rests nestled in your chest, his lips pressing sweet kisses to the skin, “I am definitely not helping you sanitize this room, Toru,” 

He pouts, “Oh c’mon it’s half of your mess, most of your mess — you were soaking me—“ 

“I did you a favor by coming to help you practice conducting an intake and diagnosing a patient, I’m not cleaning up this mess too,” you sigh, as he relents, leaning up to kiss your lips.

“Well you did cum a lot I’ll give you that,” and you push his face away, but he only drags his tongue up your fingers. You flush, “you’re the worst doctor,” you grumble. 

“But I’m your favorite one, after all,” he grins, easing himself out, as you gasp, watching your mixed releases leak from your cunt, “I’m the only one who can give you your medicine.” 

A few hours before….

“C’mon, baby, I need to practice,” your boyfriend curled his arms around you, burying his face in your neck, trying to pull your attention from the book your nose was buried in currently, “i need to practice,” 

“I don’t think practicing is what’s on your mind right now, Toru,” you roll your eyes as he presses wet kisses up your neck, “you’re being distracting,” 

“You distract me just by existing,” he pouts, and you roll your eyes, “at least if I practice with you, I can do something,” and you can’t say no to him, could you? 

“Fine but why can’t we practice here?” And he’s shrugging, only grinning in reply. 

“I can get more into the mindset of a doctor at the clinic,” he’s holding up the key he had sweet talked out of the security guard, “it’s a chance for me to get some practical experience. No one else will be around. Just you and me. Please?” 

“…fine,” you sigh, as he kisses you again, “but you’ll behave?” 

“Promise,” he grins — but you knew Satoru Gojo never behaved - especially when it came to you. 

✴︎ a/n: my sister's practice asking me medical questions for an intake finally came in handy.

✴︎ taglist: @mwtsxri, @buttercupmuffins, @sinnerstardoll, @ziieanna12, @capitana18girl, @musababy, @miacakess, @secretmoneybearvoid, @sincerelyyrosemary, @dazailover1900, @maybe-a-bi-witch, @mnare, @kiyoomis-side, @complexivelovely, @imjustmememe, @pandaluvr, @affendy86, @scarlet-kazuha, @peachedtv, @spooky-nanners, @runmeoverkth, @nicobicobee, @kvroshit, @superluver, @paperairplanescanfly, @professorweezy, @i-literally-cant-with-this, @sachirobabe, @aothotties, @naughteehee, @ohphi, @roanryan16, @happyface002, @starrylibras, @sxatorugojoswife, @unamilanesa, @lycheeclare, @oreo-bozado, @yeehawslap, @hidanleftoe, @reaperxdeath

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[thatsdemko]

unknown - m.verstappen

masterlist | pairing: max verstappen x Hamilton!fem!reader. summary: when an unknown number comes across his phone, max can’t help but discover who’s sent him the image he can’t erase from his mind. warnings: 18+ + fingering (f receiving) + mentions of nudity + fluff (at the end). a/n: I want to give a huge shoutout to @monzabee for always being my inspiration to finish my smut, but also for convincing me to read twisted games (this ones inspired by that xx)

unknown

attachment: 1 image

the pinging sound distracts him from the current game on his television. pausing for a quick second, max glances at the unknown number and slides the message open as curiosity struck him.

unknown

can you see my nipples through this?

Max’s phone nearly drops into his lap at the second message. he barely got the chance to even open the image, the second message was far too appalling and his hands got too slippery from the precipitation building around him.

“max! come on!” the chatter from his headset snaps his attention from the black phone screen in his lap. red slips across his cheeks as he apologizes quickly for the distraction, and continues on like nothing happened.

though he couldn’t lie, the curiosity of the image was certainly looming around him. what was the person wearing? could he see said nipples? he couldn’t help but try to sneak peaks at his phone whenever he got the chance before the stream ended.

finally free from his friends, max slides open his phone and his breath sucks inward. you could definitely see your nipples through the sheer linen tight white top. in fact, if it weren’t for your underwear, you could see the very outline of your vagina.

fuck. max was unsure to text back. if he did, what would he even say? there was no clear indication on who it was sending the message. he didn’t recognize the number, and on top of that there was no face. the image was purely just the outfit.

max verstappen

a bra would be appropriate.

your heart fell about five stories down, and right into the pit of your gut. shit, you didn’t send the message to your friends. instead, you mistook the ID you tapped on for one of them, and it turned out to very clearly be your brothers rival: max verstappen.

unknown

don’t mention this to Lewis.

max verstappen

secret is safe with me.

while this made perfectly good blackmail, max had nothing against you. you were completely innocent and most likely too stupid to notice you tapped his phone number instead. he’d never utter a word to Lewis, and the photo would die with max whenever the time may be.

max verstappen

where are you headed looking like that?

y/n Hamilton

your moms house.

max stifled out a chuckle unable to believe that you were born by the same parents as Lewis. when it came to humor, Lewis used it very minimal, but from the select times max had spoken to you, you were the complete opposite. meditation was joke, veganism was impossible to follow, and driving at fast speeds was too boring. y/n hamilton was every opposite of her brother.

max verstappen

I think my house is a better place for that

your heart somehow jumped back into its place, attempting to thump its way out of its cavity. max could easily be joking, he could easily be serious, but either way you shouldn’t go. max was probably not interested in women like you, and sure the photo might’ve tipped the scales in your favor, but you weren’t really into vanilla sex like he could offer.

y/n Hamilton

you wish I was headed to your place like this.

max verstappen

I do.

fuck. you close your eyes, letting your fingers type the message and hit send before you can even have a single regret. max might be your opposite in the bedroom, but you can’t help but wonder what he’s got up his sleeve.

y/n Hamilton

I’m free right now.

—

twenty minutes later his soft lips are leaving trails down your neck, his fingers work the buttons of the top that sickened his soul into this. he was careful not rip the material, but he was so the opposite of careful when his lips wrapped around your nipple.

his tongue and teeth graze the sensitive skin while you melt against his mattress into a puddle.

you were so wrong about him. oh so so, wrong.

he’d practically ripped that white shirt to shreds the second you entered his place. his tongue was a dominate force, shoved down your throat, his lips were passionate and full of eager. vanilla sex was so not max. you could write pages about him, no fantasy or book explored the way max did.

his fingers. oh gosh, they could write stories about how delicate, and soft they were. how they expanded your folds and had you clenching around nothing. they worked wonders— magic perhaps, pumping at such a fast speed you didn’t have time to react feeling him floor you until every drop of you was around him.

“these,” his tongue swipes across your breast, lips wrapping around the tip of your nipple, sucking you like a baby its thumb. it was relaxing, gut twisting, and chilling. he left you panting, begging, and still he wasn’t finished. no ounce of him showed signs of stopping.

when finally he was done toying, done with whatever ‘warmup’ he claimed this to be, his large cock filled you, warmth overtook with pleasure when you felt his hips grind yours. the rhythm was nothing like his fingers, nothing like how his tongue moved on your skin, it was slow. he was slow, like he were to savor every moment of this.

you clench, you squeal, beg, whatever could come from you as noise. nothing was coherent, and max liked that. in fact, it quickened his pace with a smirk as he watched your eyes roll to the back of your head and moan his name.

“you’re taking it well.” his voice is raspy, husk and faint. a moan rippled through your body at the sound of him, you could feel butterflies unleash in the warmth of your stomach as you cry out and come on his cock.

“you’re different than I expected you to be.” you say watching him roll to the pillow beside you, his blue eyes fixed on yours, they still have that hunger in them that turns you on.

“when you wear a top like that,” his breath sucks inward, a simple shake of his head at the newest dirty ideas floating in his mind, “I can’t control myself.”

a breathy chuckle escapes your lips as you curl your body into his, perfectly molding together, “I guess I’m glad I ditched the girls for you.”

a smile stretches across his lips that he carefully plants on your forehead, “thanks for the text, I hope to receive more in the future.”

“you earned yourself a spot on speed dial.”

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[nervousimposter]

Eddie started finding notes in his locker his sophomore year. The first couple of them, he just tossed without reading. He didn’t need to read what those asshole bullies wanted to say about him. But curiosity won out after two weeks of constant notes and he finally opened one. It was the single most impactful thing he’d ever read. 

I think you’re the prettiest boy I’ve ever seen. 

He kept that note. And every other note he got from that point on. If anyone were to ask Eddie what he regretted most in his life, it would be those two weeks of notes he tossed without reading. Ten slips of paper with unknown writing that he wishes he could get back. Add them to his ‘mystery boys notes’ box. And he was a mystery, the note writer. Anonymous. Unknown. Impossible to catch. 

Eddie held out for a month. A whole month before he decided to stage a stake out. He watched his locker like a hawk. In between classes, during classes, lunch, after school and even one absolutely horrible day where he came in an hour before school started. But the mystery boy had to be invisible. He never saw anyone approach his locker but his daily note was always there. And Eddie; poor, unfortunate, infatuated Eddie dealt with mystery boys’ notes from ‘82 to ‘85. Four agonizing years of the most heart-warming, loving notes. 

I wish I was as brave as you.

Did you change your shampoo? Your hair looked so soft today.

God, your eyes have to be the biggest fucking eyes I’ve ever seen. So pretty.

I like how long your hair is getting. 

Saw you walking down the hall today and I’ve never wanted to kiss someone more. 

They started cute. Compliments here and there, even a doodle every once in a while. Hearts and smiley faces. But as the months and years went by, the mystery boy got deeper. Confessions and secrets. 

I think if I had a different dad, we would’ve been best friends.

Can you fall in love with someone you’ve never talked to?

I dream about us. 

I’m a boy. I’m sorry.

I want to hold your hand. Those rings are something else. 

I saw you trying to catch me. Adorable.

I wish I could take you on a date. Not give a shit what my dad would say or what people would think. 

I wish I could be brave enough to talk to you. 

You’re still the prettiest boy I’ve ever seen.

I’m graduating this year. I’m sorry it didn’t work out for you. I think I’m going to try to figure out a way to keep dropping these off next year. I don’t want you to forget about me.

The notes didn’t continue when the school year started. Eddie was embarrassed to admit he cried that first night. He wasn’t sure how the mystery boy was going to be able to get the notes to him but he fully believed it was going to happen. He went five weeks with no daily note in his locker. And then, it showed up on a Monday. He almost missed it, the tiny slip of paper. 

Sorry this took so long. Had to figure out how I was going to sneak these in here. I don’t think I’ll be able to call you pretty every day of the week this time around but I’m going to try my best! 

And mystery boy was right. The notes were always there on Monday. Just Monday. But Eddie didn’t complain. One note a week after five weeks of nothing almost had his heart bursting from his chest. It also narrowed down his search. Sort of. Mystery boy was either coming in on those Mondays to drop off the note, sneaking in on the weekends when the school was empty OR after school on Fridays. And look, he’s failed to graduate high school two times in a row now but he wasn’t stupid. Did it take him three months after the notes to start again for him to realize who it was? Yes but to be fair, for two of those months it was Eddie wallowing in denial. 

Five weeks into school was when he restarted Hellfire. Three weeks before that was when he brought in those new little freshman sheepies. The same freshman sheepies that got picked up by Steve Harrington. Steve Harrington who graduated last year. Steve Harrington who he catches staring at him from his beemer in the parking lot every Friday night before he takes the kiddies home. Steve who he categorizes as someone who is so far out of his league that it just couldn’t be him. But it’s been three months and there isn’t any other former Hawkins high student running around in or near the school. And now that Eddie’s almost certain Steve has been mystery boy these past few years, he can’t wait. He’s been in love with a figure made out of slips of paper for four years and his nonexistent patience has truly run thin.  

He calls for a break 15 minutes before they normally end their sessions. Tells the boys he needs to run to the bathroom and almost sprints out the door. His locker sits in the hallway just around the corner of the drama room. The door closing shut echos through the empty hallways, alongside the squeaks coming from his shoes as he hustles towards his locker. He freezes as soon as he turns the corner. 

Steve probably only had 30 seconds after hearing the door open and shut to process what he was going to do. He could’ve run or hid, maybe pretend like he just needed the bathroom while he waited. But Eddie watched him pause as they made eye contact instead. Watched as Steve looked him up and down. Watched him relax and lean back against the lockers behind him with a lazy smirk. His arm slowly moved up and Eddie could see a slip of paper held between his fingers. Steve didn’t break eye contact with him at all as he proceeded to shove the paper between the vents of his locker. They stayed like that for what felt like hours. Staring. Broken when Steve pushed himself off the wall and walked towards him. He didn’t stop. Side stepped around Eddie before they could collide. A faint brush of his fingers along the back of his hand as he walked past him. And Eddie just watched him pass. Just like he watched him slip that note in his locker, he watched Steve walk back down the hall and out the front doors.

He waited only five seconds after the doors closed behind Steve before he jogged over to his locker. Grabbed the note and shoved it into his pocket before running back over to the drama room. Told the guys that they stopped at a decent spot and would meet again next Friday. Walked with them to the parking lot to head home. To catch a glimpse of Steve. And there he was, sitting in his beemer, staring again. This time though, Eddie smiled at him. He smiled at him and pulled the note out of his pocket. Opened it right there in the parking lot while he stared back at Steve. It only took him a few seconds to glance down to read. And as soon as he did, he threw his head back and laughed. Cackled really. He looked back at the beemer and saw Steve with the widest grin. Watched him lift his fingers off the steering wheel and wiggle them at him before he started pulling out of the lot. He looked back down at the note in his hand and chuckled again. Who knew Steve Harrington knew DnD well enough to draw a perfect rendition of an eight sided dice?

Wanna go on a d8? - Steve Harrington xxx-xxx-xxxx

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #steddie fic