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#and the movie's not terrible! if you can get your hands on it and are a pacino fan i recommend it mostly
writer-freak · 1 day
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Stealing his shirt | Lucifer x reader
Summary: You and Lucifer planned a day to just relax together but he had to leave spontaneously. When he came back he saw that you stole one of his shirts, and he likes seeing you in it.
Warnings: Fluff, some suggestiveness at the end, reader wears one of Lucifers shirts, but it's not explicitly described how it fits reader, Lucifer just loving you, English isn't my first language
A/n: I really noticed now how terrible I am at coming up with titles for my fics. But yeah I wanted to just write a little scenario about stealing his shirt but somehow I ended up with this. Hope you guys enjoy.
Comments, likes and reblogs are always appreciated and really motivate me to write more <3
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You and Lucifer had planned a rare relaxation day, just the two of you, away from everything else going on around you. Snacks were scattered on the coffee table, a mix of both your and Lucifer's favorites as you lounged comfortably on the couch.
"I must say, darling, your taste in snacks is great but I still think mine is superior." Lucifer remarked with a grin, popping a piece of candy into his mouth as he leaned back against the cushions, his arm draped around your shoulders casually.
You chuckled while leaned into Lucifer's side. "Well, I believe I have a knack for picking the best, but now I have a feeling I made a mistake."
Lucifer raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eyes. "Oh, is that so? Should I be worried about my standing in your 'best picks' list?" he teased back, a smirk forming on his lips as he pretended to look concerned.
You laughed, shaking your head. "Oh, you're still in the top rankings, don't worry. But I think your pride is knocking you down a few pegs," you replied, poking fun at his ego light-heartedly.
You tried getting up, wanting to tease him a little further, but you weren't able to get far.
"Oh no, you are not leaving," Lucifer said, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you down onto his lap. You tried freeing yourself but Lucifer tightened his arms around you, a playful glint in his eyes. "Oh, trying to escape my impeccable charm already, are we?" he quipped, pretending to be offended as he held you firmly in place.
"Let me go, Lu!" you protested, laughing as he started to tickle you.
"You are not escaping me, my love," Lucifer teased, his fingers tickling along your sides until you finally tapped out. "Okay okay, I give up, you win!" you said, breathless from laughter as Lucifer grinned triumphantly.
You tried catching your breath before, you settled back down next to Lucifer. Just as he reached for the remote, his phone buzzed with an incoming call, interrupting you two.
Lucifer glanced at the screen with a slight frown. "It's probably just some mundane matter," he muttered, moving to decline the call.
Raising an eyebrow, you suggested "You should at least check Lu, it might be important."
With a reluctant sigh, Lucifer nodded and took the call, his expression shifting from annoyance to seriousness as he listened.
"I understand. I'll be there shortly," Lucifer said before ending the call. Turning to you, he offered an apologetic smile. "I'm so sorry love, duty calls."
You smiled back, while trying to mask your disappointment. "It's alright, Lucifer. I know you have many responsibilities."
Lucifer leaned in to place a gentle kiss on your forehead. "I promise to be back as soon as possible. You can stay here in the meantime if you want?" he suggested.
You nodded, a soft smile tugging at your lips. "I'm just going to watch a movie without you," you replied.
Lucifer smiled at you before changing out of his comfortable clothes and leaving the suite.
With a sigh, you leaned your head back against Lucifer's giant couch, a bit disappointed that your boyfriend had to leave. Not knowing what to do with yourself, you thought about what you could do in the meantime to keep yourself busy. 
You wanted to take a shower later today, but since you have some time on your hands, you could just do it right now.
You didn't have a change of clothes but that didn't really bother you as you walked into Lucifer's bedroom to go into the connecting bathroom, but your eyes drifted and landed on the wardrobe.
Your curiosity was piqued, and you walked over and began browsing through his clothes. You have borrowed one of Lucifer's shirts before when you slept over, but you never really looked through all his clothing. He has a lot of ducky motive items and eventually, you choose one of the more casual shirts that he wears at home with a little duck on it.
With some new clothes, you went into the shower, relaxing and killing some time until Lucifer's back. When you got out you dried yourself off and slipped into the shirt, you couldn't help but take in its familiar scent, which comforted you as you went back to lounge in his suite. You flipped through some channels until you finally found something watchable, and then the door opened, announcing Lucifer's return.
"Well, well, what do we have here?" Lucifer's tone was playful, a smirk on his lips as he took in the sight of you wearing his shirt.
You sat up, looking over at Lucifer with a smile. "Oh, Lucifer! I didn't expect you to be back so early," you said casually, not acknowledging that you had taken one of his shirts.
Lucifer chuckled, crossing the room to stand before you. "I must say, you have excellent taste," he remarked, his gaze lingering on your new top.
You couldn't help but smile innocently at him. "It's quite comfy," you admitted, tugging at the shirt for emphasis.
"Comfy and charming," Lucifer added, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "I might have to start giving you my shirts more often."
After changing into more comfortable clothes, Lucifer returned to the couch, plopping down next to you. "I think you look better in them than me I have to admit, maybe you should always wear them." he teased, his tone a bit suggestive.
You chuckled softly. "Oh, is that an invitation, Lucifer? Because I definitely wouldn't mind having a collection of your shirts," you teased back, leaning against the couch cushions with a playful expression.
Lucifer's smirk widened, his gaze lingering on you in a way that made your heart race a bit faster. "Consider this one a reward for having such impeccable taste." he purred, his voice low and seductive.
A playful glint danced in your eyes as you raised an eyebrow. "And what would I have to do to earn more of these rewards Lucifer?" you asked teasingly, with a hint of seductiveness.
Leaning in closer, Lucifer's voice dropped to a husky whisper, his breath brushing against your skin. "Oh, Wearing my clothes is a start but, there are many more ways to earn rewards, my dear." he suggested his eyes wandering up and down your body.
You couldn't deny that heat rose to your face at his words, before a smirk of your own formed. "Well then, I'll have to keep that in mind for the future," you replied, your voice a playful challenge as you just settled back down next to him. You took the remote and turned the TV back on before turning to Lucifer as nonchalantly as you could. "So what do you want to watch?" 
Lucifer also leaned back slightly, his gaze still intense as he locked eyes with you. "I'm fine with anything, you know that, my love. But I don't think I feel like watching TV at the moment," he murmured, a suggestive smile playing on his lips.
You tried playing a bit dumb, not wanting to let him win just yet. "Oh, why is that? I thought you just wanted to relax together today?" you teased, a playful glint in your eyes.
Lucifer's smirk deepened as he leaned in closer, his voice dropping. "I must admit, darling, your comments earlier have left me a bit distracted," he confessed, his gaze lingering on your lips suggestively.
Your heart skipped a beat at his words, a playful challenge in your eyes. "Oh, is that so? I didn't realize I had such an effect on you," you replied a hint of mischief in your tone.
Lucifer's hand brushed against your cheek, his touch sending shivers down your spine. "You always have that effect on me, my dear. It's one of the many things I adore about you," he admitted, his voice laced with sincerity and desire.
Unable to resist any longer, you closed the distance between you, capturing his lips in a soft, lingering kiss.
When you pulled back, a content smile graced your lips. "In that case, I think I can find other ways to keep you entertained," you teased, your voice low and sultry.
Lucifer's eyes glimmered with amusement and desire. "I have no doubt about that, my love."
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Divider 1 by: @rubra-wav Divider 2 by: @saradika-graphics
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moonstruckme · 2 days
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so requests are open again, can i así for a Robin fic where she tries to ask Reader out but she is really nervous and all cute?
Thanks for requesting babe!
Robin Buckley x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words
You have no idea how Robin managed to get Keith to let three of you work the Saturday shift, but you owe her your life for it. 
Normally, you end up by yourself, uneventful weekday nights where you organize and reorganize the clearance section, talking to yourself since the last time you brought a book and Keith’s boss caught you on the cameras you got chewed out. 
Robin and Steve have a routine of their own. They pulled a hidden stock of snacks out of the break room, gossipped about who had borrowed what movies for how long and what that meant, made up ridiculous life stories for the customers that came in. Then Dustin had come over and Robin had relegated the boys to the back room. You like Steve, but you’re not mad about it; having Robin all to yourself makes your stomach do flips like it does on a rollercoaster. 
“Okay,” she says in a low voice, eyes tracking a customer who’s just wandered into the teen section. You’ve hopped up on the counter, sitting with your back to the door and your legs dangling, and her elbow is about three inches from touching your thigh. “The guy in the tank top. What do we think about him?” 
“He looks like he just rolled out of bed.” Which isn’t unreasonable, because it’s only ten. “Who comes to rent a movie first thing in the morning?” 
“Someone desperate,” Robin agrees. You’re both leaning in as you talk in near-whispers, but that distance between her arm and your leg stays. 
You hum. “He could have kids.” 
“Does he really look like someone who has kids?” 
“I don’t know what people who have kids look like. I guess there’s probably a variety.” 
“Fair…” She kisses her teeth as she watches him, big eyes narrowed sneakily. “I don’t know, I think he’s horny.” 
Your laugh is so loud and sudden you have to clamp a hand over your mouth. A customer browsing near you gives you an odd look, and you murmur an apology. Robin looks delighted. 
“Why would you think that?” you hiss at her. “He’s just looking for a movie.” 
Her expressions turns sheepish, complete with a cute half-smile that makes your brain buzz distractingly. “It’s possible I have some information you don’t.” 
You lean back on your hands and tilt your head, looking at her curiously. 
Robin leans in close. “He rented Fast Times five days ago and hasn’t returned it.” 
Her eyes are sparkling with amusement. With great effort you tear your gaze from them, looking past her at the man. “Oh,” you say, “yeah, I see it. He looks like he hasn’t shaved in days. I’ll bet he’s been locked in his mom’s basement watching the pool scene on repeat.” 
She turns her head down toward your leg to hide a smile, and her laugh tickles down your spine like a grazing touch. You have to trap your bottom lip between your teeth to keep your own grin from getting too out of hand. 
“This is fun,” you blurt. Or, it feels like a blurt, but Robin doesn’t seem to note your abruptness, only turning her eyes up to yours curiously. “Hanging out, I mean. I wish we worked the same shifts more often.” 
“Yeah, I—it is fun.” Robin’s smile gets a funny look to it, her gaze flitting down to the counter. “I’d rather work with you than Steve anytime. Not that you’re, like, only just better than Steve, obviously you’re tons better than him, I just meant that—Steve, he’s actually not terrible, I mean he’s probably my best friend, and he and I hang out outside work all the time, so—” She presses her lips together as if physically stopping herself. You chew your bottom lip. “Basically, I like hanging out with you even more than him, which is…not as low a bar as you might think.” 
“I don’t think that’s a low bar,” you say through a smile. “Steve seems cool.”
She scoffs. “He’s not. Don’t let him think you think that.” 
“He seems nice, I mean. Nicer than he was in high school.” 
“Exactly.” Robin lifts her stare to yours again, something like relief in it. “Yeah, he’s…better. He, like, had a spiritual change or something.” 
“Maybe he found good influences.” You nudge her leg with the toe of your shoe. She makes a scratchy laughing sound, looking away from you again. 
“We hang out a lot outside of work,” she says.
“You mentioned that.” 
“We could try that.” 
You blink, her candor cutting through the light and flirty feeling you’ve fallen into like a knife. 
“You and me?” 
“Yeah.” Her eyes find yours. “Like, if you wanted to hang out more, we don’t have to—I mean, we could, totally, we just don’t have to—do it here. At the store.” Her throat bobs so quick you almost miss it. Your chest feels tight, but not entirely unpleasantly. “We could go to the movies, or to get pizza, or to the roller rink—I don’t actually really know what you like to do, but you have to like movies, right? We could definitely watch a movie.”
There’s a commotion in your stomach. You want to look down and check again the distance between her arm and your thigh, but for some reason now it feels like too much of a risk. “Like, with Steve?” you ask. 
Robin’s nose wrinkles. “Definitely not with Steve.” 
“So, just us.” 
In the corner of your eye, you see her hands flex on the countertop. “If you want,” she says quietly. 
You wet your lips. When you take a second too long to answer, she goes on, “Or we could totally invite other people, if that’s what you want to do.” 
“No,” you say quickly. “Just us is…is good.” 
“Really?” Robin sounds so surprised you can’t help but smile. She smiles back, tentatively, like she’s not one-hundred percent sure if she’s in on the joke but she’s happy if you’re happy. 
“Yeah.” You lower your voice, glancing around the store. You’d nearly forgotten you were in public. You think for a second you catch Steve looking, but he directs his stare to the movies he’s organizing, smiling to himself and waving off something Dustin’s said. “I’m not doing anything tomorrow, if you want to see what’s showing then.” 
Robin grins, huge and heart-stutteringly pretty. It shows all her teeth and little lines shoot out from her eyes like rays of sunshine. “Do you like thrillers?” 
“Sure.” No. 
She leans forward conspiratorially, and it takes every ounce of willpower you possess not to look down when you feel her skin make contact with the side of your thigh. Your heart starts beating hummingbird fast. “Perfect.” 
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Hallo from your neighbourhood lurker I have but a simple request for our lovely bois and I can’t get it out of my head so I decided to put it into yours dear author,
I would like headconnons of them sleeping, let me elaborate I want sleeping hcs like what would it be like to sleep next to them and so on
What would be your nightly routine with them, I would like to request for these hcs for the following bois, iwa, bokuto and tendo
TLTR: sleeping hcs with Iwa, Bokuto and Tendo
Thank you for reading
Have a good day/night
From your local neighbourhood lurker 

SLEEPING IN - IWAIZUMI, TENDOU AND BOKUTO
Hello friendly neighborhood lurker jejeje; I LOVED this request so much, I adore joint night routines and there is something so lovely about waking up on a lazy day next to your loved one, thank you so much for this request! I hope you like it!!
I’m also so terribly sorry for the delay! Last week was busier than expected and coincidentally I’ve been tired out of my mind due to lack of sleep jejej
I recommend you listen to “Sunday morning” by Maroon 5 because a lazy morning with these boys would definitely sound like that!
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IWAIZUMI HAJIME
Iwaizumi is very disciplined and his daily routines are no exception, and once you come into the picture you made his nights way better, he always looks forward to spending the last hours of his day with you
After a long day at the gym coming home to you and to your home gives him immense comfort. The first thing the two of you do is cook dinner; he is a surprisingly ok cook, and just having the two of you in the kitchen with music in the background is pure bliss. 
He loves to just hug you from behind, swaying, while you tell him about your day. Hidden in the crook of your neck you only feel him hum to make you know he is listening, planting soft kisses every once in a  while.
He likes to shower after dinner, and you are always welcome to join him if you feel like it, specially if you are going to help him wash his hair (He always helps you wash yours)
He does have a skin-care routine, and if you do too he likes to have the two of you together in the bathroom, music still in the background, while he shaves and washes his face (He WILL do facemasks if you ask, also his aftershave smells so good, kinda like soft wood and rain)
He likes to sleep as early as possible. He gets super sleepy after 10 o'clock and will start just laying his head on your shoulder and walking slowly behind you until you go to bed. If you take too long he will just lift you up bridal style and tuck you in. 
He likes to watch stuff before going to bed, especially if you’ve been watching a show or movie together; HOWEVER do not be surprised if he falls asleep just sitting down. If you nudge him he will make himself comfortable and wrap his arms around you and you can either join him or keep watching, he does not mind as long as he can cuddle you 
If he sees you falling asleep before him he will pause whatever you are watching get you comfortable and just play with your hair, running his hands up and down your as he falls asleep
He gives the best cuddles ever, the only downside is that he is a human heater so if there is a particularly hot month be prepared to sweat 
He does not budge a bit in the night, and he has a deep sleep, so if you move dont worry about him, however good luck trying to stand up if you need to pee because he pulls you right back in as he sleeps soundly 
His favorite position to sleep is when you rest your head on his chest and wrap an arm around him while he wraps his arms around you, kind of like a half spoon, he feels so safe holding you. If you get tired in the middle of the night he likes to be the big spoon, he is contempt with having a lazy arm around you
If there is work to do he is an early riser, he gives you a kiss on the forehead and makes you both either coffee or tea while you shake off your own sleepiness. If you got stuff to do and you refuse to wake up he starts by nudging you, until he  gives up and starts hitting you with pillows. He loves the angry look on your face while you scold him for being rude, hoping a kiss on the cheek makes up for the trouble
HOWEVER, if there is no rush he loves to spend a lazy morning. He still wakes up early, he cannot help it, but he takes his time basking in your sunlit sleepy face, tracing your body with featherlight fingers while he waits for you to wake up; he can stare at you for hours
He loves taking you to eat breakfast outside on lazy days, using it as an excuse to take a morning stroll on the closest park while you chat and drink coffee
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TENDOU SATORI
Tendou is more of an “on-the-go” guy, he does not have a set sleeping routine, still, there is stuff he likes to get done at night 
He does not particularly like cooking, as opposed to baking, so either you are eating leftovers, takeout or he is baking some kind of either sweet or savory pastry for the two of you, depending on his mood on that particular night and how much you beg for him to make you your favorite treat. 
He loves to blast love songs while baking so if the pastry is in the oven he will karaoke with you while he spins and guides you to the beat. GIve him kisses while the two of you dance and he will melt. 
He does not have a face routine but he does wash his face, he has a set of soap and lotion, nothing too fancy. However he is a big fan of you giving both of you facemasks while you watch something on the tv and talk about the day that just passed. 
He suffers from insomnia so he usually sleeps pretty late, he hates just tossing and turning around in bed so if you want to go to sleep he will bring some manga, or watch a youtube video. He sometimes feels like he is bothering you with the dim light of his phone so he tries to use it as little as possible.
Due to that, he is a chatter bug; it can be 3 o’ clock in the morning and you will hear him shuffle to face you before asking either the deepest stuff or just a variant of “What type of pizza do you think I would be?”
If you don’t answer because you are asleep he monologues his ideas or talking about the latest manga he read while playing with your hair and staring at your sleepy face, he thinks you look the most adorable when asleep.
He adores being the little spoon, there is something so comforting to him about being held, so he loves the feeling of your arms around him and your sleepy breath on his neck 
Moves little in the night but he is a light sleeper and will wake up briefly if you move, but he does not mind much; uses it as an excuse to snuggle closer
Tendou is not particularly a morning person, but if he wakes up accidentally he has a hard time falling asleep again. Still, since sleeping next to you he finds it easier to soothe himself to sleep, so he’ll just nudge you and go “You hug  me”, while grabbing your arms and tucking himself between them. if you comply he is the happiest and just hums a little to help him fall asleep once more
Likes to shower in the mornings because it helps him wake up fully and feel fresh, even if you are in a hurry, the second you step inside the shower he forgets so he takes his time just talking to you about what he dreamt.
He likes lazy mornings because he takes his time to fall asleep as many times as need be. He likes the morning haze and just seeing your sleepy face, as he gets closer to you, your warmth enveloping him to soothe him back to sleep, he will wake up whenever you want, which means that it can be 1 o’ clock and the two of you are still entangled in bed, talking softly or maybe watching something on the tv, not caring about anything in the world. 
He is also a big napping enthusiast and his favorite naps are with you. He gets super sleepy due to his messed sleep schedule so just getting to nap with you or even next to you while you do something else really calms him down. 
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BOKUTO KOTAROU 
He walks in after a long day of work and most of the time he just goes “Come on Y/N let’s go on an adventure!”, which is a fun way of naming your dates whether it is going to the movie theater, for dinner, or just to the park. 
Bokuto loves to go out at night so most of the time dinner and a stroll through the city is the plan, either that or drive-throughs and blasting music while you park the car nearby in order to eat and talk.
If you don’t feel like going out it’s okay! You can either order food or eat some trustworthy cereal or fruit while he asks you all about your day. Please, ask about his day too, he loves to feel like you want to listen to him, and he always has fun anecdotes, you will not regret it.
He takes aaaaaages showering, it is his own personal concert, he has aromatic candles, dim lights and a speaker set; you can hear him sing loud and proud, and he bases his playlist on the mood of the day.
If you join him in the shower he will either perform most of the songs for your amusement or make you duet with him, he appreciates it if you wash his hair while he sings, and will totally return the favor 
After the shower his energy levels fall and he is more cuddly, hugging you from behind while you wash your face and finish your own routine
He does not have a set face wash routine but will not complain if you offer to wash his face or otherwise. He will be humming with his eyes closed while you do so (there is always accidental ingestion of beauty products secondary to him not being able to shut up for more than 3 minutes)
He does not mind whether he sleeps late or early, but he tries to make sure to always sleep his eight hours, after all, being a high performance athlete comes with responsibilities
He does not have a to-go sleeping position, it depends a lot on how the two of you get comfortable, still, he HAS to be touching you on at least one point, even if it’s only by his foot rubbing yours. Not that it matters because he is a hurricane in his sleep and most of the time he ends up hugging you by either an arm or a leg , and also hogging most of the bedsheets 
He snores super lightly every once in a while. Also, he has a habit of sleep-talking. If he says something and you answer he will hold a conversation, it will make no sense at all to you, but it is very endearing to hear him talk. 
He is a deep sleeper, a truck could run him over and he won’t budge, and in the mornings it is no different, he has a lot of difficulties waking up, which only gets amplified when he feels your warmth next to him, hugging you close and grunting when the alarm clock sounds for the third time. 
That is also the reason why he loves weekends, just knowing the two of you have nowhere to go and nothing to do but cuddle. He likes to play a movie and have the two of you watch it half-asleep before going to fix some breakfast. 
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candiedspit · 2 days
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You thought you found the thing, I said out loud to the garbage cans, the vaguely threatening spikes of the fence guarding the park, the elderly man at the end of his millionth cigarette.
You thought you had found the thing that was going to keep you alive, I continued, waving my cigarette around as I spoke.
The girl you had been waiting to meet your entire life. The crystal to your ball. The one who knew the way you grooved, who understood the world as you knew it, saw the fissions in the skyline, watched the sun dribble down like a belly dancer with her foreign diamonds, tasted the same heat, heard orchestras in building demolitions, the melodies in a cup of black coffee as you weep in the living room, hungover and sweating you are done with the beast. But going back and back like a wounded dog. And she wanted the same things. To be taken by a UFO at the end of a long summer day; the wheat standing still in the cool night. She wanted an easy exit. She wanted to be anybody else. She wanted to dream as you wanted to dream. She shared the same language, the tones of people trapped in a burning room.
And you had her; for a year, you were in the same room, I said, speaking to the trees.
Licking the same piece of licorice, falling into the same wondrous and terrible sleep. Sometimes too altered to speak. Not needing to speak. You shot her up on Christmas Eve, her face glistening with hushed pinks from the lights you convinced her to get. You wore her panties around the house. Filled a plastic kiddie pool with water from the hose and waved, handed out lollipops to the kids next door and to whoever you saw. Opioid receptors. Movies you would forget you watched. Fights over a gram. Slow dancing in the kitchen to Sinatra records, kissing her exactly where she wanted to be kissed. Staying together on the couch, watching the world pass through you.
We never wanted that world, she said one evening as the newscast told us about terrorism, wars. We never wanted that stupid world.
There’s no room for us, I said and held her close.
You wanted to be an eyelash on her face. She was petroleum. She was cake. She taught you how to use a needle. You had figured out a way to live. And could see yourself living in the trailer park for years to come.
And eventually you and her would kick the habit.
This was a secret desire. A week of atomic bombs and shallow waters. But you would get clean and meet her parents. There would be large thanksgiving dinners, happiness.
And when she ended things, you bought a gun. But you were rushed to the clinic before you could smear yourself out of existence. You mourn her at night. You smell her milk. You hope she is in a field, watching the light lounge over the grass. You hope she is alive. You hope she wants to be. As for yourself, the bomb could go off and you would light another cigarette, watching the fallout blot the sunlight with a famed nonchalance. And as the fire reached you, you would picture her in your mind. The only miracle you’ve known.
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bumblingbabooshka · 10 months
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Old men whose descriptions of their sons don't prepare you at all for what they're actually like (OR: "You're going to Starfleet academy and I don't want to hear another word about it!")
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sketchyfandomgirl · 3 months
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Simon “Ghost” Riley who gets terrible acne when he goes for days on end without taking his mask off. He gets so sweaty and gross that when it finally come off, Simon has a terrible breakout and it can take days to clean it all up.
That’s why he turns to you, probably the only other member of 141 who has a good skin care other than Gaz, but he won’t let the kid know he’s got acne.
He also trusts you more to find something that agrees with his skin and even goes on a shopping trip with you to pick out something he might like, and a few others to try with your expertise. The man is so confused reading every label as you work through the aisles like it’s the back of your hand. It makes his head dizzy thinking about it too much.
And no Simon, do not pay too much attention to the bunny ears headband, it’s not that important, look at this clay mask instead! It’ll help with pores!
When it’s all over, it’s almost as if you bought half the self care aisle back to base, but it’s for the greater good! Plenty of creams, pore strips, face masks, clay masks, lotions and even a roller with oil to make the face feel fresh!
It’s a whole evening helping Simon find what’s best for him. He complains soooooo much about the steamer, but you hush him and say it’ll be worth it. Maybe give him some snacks to appease him as he roasts his face for his health! And yes, he is wearing the bunny headband to keep his curls out of the way.
Simon takes a backseat as you do your magic applying the creams and clay mask to his face. Yes, there is a difference between the creams and masks Simon!
He definitely asks you to explain what you’re putting on his face and what it does. He wants to learn! Simon isn’t simply there for you to take care of him lies, he’s totally enjoying the attention
Play a movie and the man is comfy in his seat as you pamper and fuss over him, cleaning him up of that icky acne :(
The cherry on top of this delicious sundae is when you bully Simon out of his seat to sit on the floor, stealing his spot and positioning him to sit between your legs. Laying him to lean against your chair, you massage the oil into his face, using the roller to run across his face. He almost moans in appreciation as your fingers work their magic, rubbing his cheeks, jaw and forehead with great care to make his eyes flutter shut. It’s so comforting he falls into a lull of sleep and you don’t even realize it until you hear a gentle snore.
What a wonderful day for self care. Maybe Simon will make sure to dirty his face again for another day like this.
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romantichomicide95 · 6 months
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megumi fushiguro 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒
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random boyfriend headcanons i can’t get out my head
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⋆ megumi is the type of boyfriend to like nudge you with his nose/head all the time. it’s not uncommon to find him leaning in, pressing his nose against your cheek when he wants attention…or lightly bumping his forehead against yours when he wants to go say i love you. even during sex, when he’s on top and you’re being way quieter than usual, he’ll affectionately nudge the side of your neck or when he’s in between your legs he’ll nudge the inside of your thigh…both of which are silent pleas of “babe does this feel good?”
⋆ megumi is the type of boyfriend that when your out walking in the city or in the park or anywhere really he pulls you closer to him by your belt loops or the sleeve of your jacket. it’s his way of showing an underlying protectiveness, but also that he needs you near him. he can’t let you wander to far away. it shows you he is always yearning to have you right by his side.
⋆ megumi is the type of boyfriend that always squeezes your hand when you’re anxious or scared. whether it be walking through the bustling crowds of tokyo, or coming up against a powerful curse…he can feel the anxiety dripping off of you. he doesn’t always know what to say, he thinks he’s terrible at comforting you, but that silent gesture, his fingers interlacing with yours and that small little squeeze of your hand…it’s enough to ground you.
⋆ megumi is the type of boyfriend that grumbles about cuddling but whenever you’re laying watching tv/movies if you veer to far away he pulls you back closer to him. it’s not like you mean to inch away, you just know he values his personal space. but not when it comes to you.
also does this when you’re sleeping. he’s always holding you when you fall asleep, your back pressed up against his chest. his body completely enveloping you in this sense of warmth that just naturally radiates off him. but if you accidentally move out of his grasp it’s like he can sense it, he’ll be dead asleep and he can just tell. so he opens his eyes, pulls you back into him and wraps you up again…otherwise he won’t be able to go back to sleep.
⋆ megumi is the type of boyfriend who comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around your midsection and resting his chin on your shoulder. he’s the type that does so many silent gestures. he’s just not a very verbally affectionate boy, he’d rather show you anyway, in his eyes it just means so much more…it’s his way of saying i’m here, i’m with you and i love you.
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PRACTICE MAKES PERFECT ─── cillian murphy ✧𖦹
ೃ⁀➷ “I am turned inside out by the ache in your voice, the taste of your tongue." — ‘Afternoon Masala: Poems’, Vandana Khanna
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pairing. cillian murphy x actor!reader
summary. you and your co-star, cillian, are having a hard time performing a sex scene for your movie. they do say, however, practice makes perfect.
warnings. swearing, thigh-riding, creampie, p in v, unprotected sex, mentioned/implied age gap, probably inaccurate depictions of actor-life, mirror sex, slight breeding kink, kinda innocent reader(?), AU cillian murphy (not married/no kids), SMUT UNDER THE CUT! 
word count. 4.5k
a/n. this is not in any way meant to disrespect cillians wife😭 i js made this a not married AU to be convenient!
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i.
“Cut - cut, cut!” The director repeated, his increasing irritation colouring his voice completely. “Now, I said it earlier, but—“
You scrubbed your face with a sigh, getting up off of Cillian and the desk, who was propping himself up by the elbows. “It’s not passionate enough,” you finished flatly for your director, who nodded earnestly. 
“I promise, this is as tiring for me as it is for you. Remember,” the director continued, the script half curled in his hands and making a thin flapping noise, “it’s the culmination of six months of pining. Six months of taboo, unrelenting, electric tension. Nothing more than stares in class and brief touches- you are supposed to be bordering feral for one another.”
You, and your co-star, Cillian, were currently filming the first sex scene of a movie portraying the forbidden, toxic love affair between a barely 18 teenage student and her much older teacher. Well, not exactly filming- you weren’t getting far with the scene, for the two of you just couldn’t get it right. Or, as the director liked to say, passionate enough. 
The role was already incredibly taxing, even without the added stress of the sex scene: it was 20 hour work days, living on set in a trailer far from home, having to devote at least half of those hours to filming this very sex scene, and had a perfectionist director like yours. 
The problem was that it was long, and the director wanted it done in one take. Brilliant man, he was, and had a love for this project you wished every director had for theirs, but he was adamant on it being done perfectly. He said it was intended to be the “primary and most iconic” scene of the entire film, for it was the crux of the story; the point of no return for the characters. 
“With all due respect, I’ve never imagined such a scenario, much less had experience. Just how can you expect me to portray a student-teacher romance accurately?“
“That’s your job: to imagine and perform.” The director demanded, obviously up to his ears in frustration.
Just before you retorted irately, Cillian cut in smoothly. “I think what she means,” he said, watching the veins in the director’s forehead nearly burst, “is that it’s hard to perform because it’s not common. S’easy to act in love because there’s love all around, yeah? We don’t have much to go off of, visually.”
The director’s gaze rapidly flitted between you and Cillian for a moment, before letting go of his anger and sighing wearily. “You’ve never even thought about a superior that way? Someone older than you?” he pressed, obviously joking and trying to lighten the set’s mood. 
You paused, and tried not to look at Cillian, your blatantly gorgeous forty-something co-star who was chosen for this role firstly, because of his stellar acting and secondly, because of how fucking attractive he was. 
His character was a total fucking creep, and you knew casting Cillian had been a calculated choice; all in the name of making the audience’s guard come down to be smacked in the face by his immorality later. He was meant to be charming, handsome, and terribly, totally, off-limits: the object of completely forbidden desire, the line your character was desperate to cross. 
It seemed the same in real life, too: the young inexperienced actress wanting to ignore those societal niceties and pine wholeheartedly over the middle-aged actor with decades of knowledge under his belt. 
You weren’t, like, in love or anything, but you certainly reveled in his presence: he was patient, kind, and completely understanding of your lack of experience, always guiding you through all the steps an actor takes during filming like when to take off hair and makeup, what best to say to family and friends prying for details- all the things, he said, he wished someone told him when he was first starting out. 
You were afraid you two had unknowingly fallen into a mentor-mentee dynamic, but there were always those spare moments, between hearty fits of laughter and silly conversation that you’d never expected to come from such an intimidating man as Cillian, where his rough hands would brush past your waist, gaze dragging up and down your body, sounding sensual and provocative despite nothing dirty leaving his mouth at all. 
He made your insides pulse, especially when your more intimate scenes came about, and you could only have a lusting woman’s pipedream that he felt the same. 
You still remember the first sequence you’d done with him: in the movie, your characters met after-class to make up for a missed exam, and it was the start of their corrupt attraction. Cillian had been pressed against your back, leaning over you to pressuringly peer at the test, large hand gripping your shoulder. The air felt steamy then, his body warm, low voice making you feel lightheaded as he recited his lines. 
You shivered at the remembrance of the moment, coming back to reality, and you answered the director’s question with a vehement shake of the head. 
The director let out a (strained) laugh, and smacked his palm lightly with the script, shoulders slumping. “Okay. Okay, we’ll - we’ll break for today. Take this extra time to imagine, research, anything- just practice the scene, alright? Practice makes perfect.” 
You and Cillian nodded simultaneously, giving eachother a look that just screamed “he’s ridiculous” before tearing away from each other's stare to return to your trailers. 
Later, you were getting ready to go to bed, peeling your freshly showered hair out of a small towel, when there was a knock at your trailer door. 
“One second,” you called out, pulling on your silk sleep shorts. You vaguely registered how awkward it might be to be seen in your pajamas if the director or one of your fellow actors came about, but you were way too tired to care. 
You did care, however, self-consciously crossing your arms and covering your thinly-clothed chest, when you opened the door and there on the steps stood your co-star, Cillian.
Before speaking, he looked you up and down, icy blue eyes gleaming behind an unfamiliar pair of tortoise shell frames. “You goin’ to bed?” he finally asked, tone husky. 
His gaze lingered on the bare skin of your legs for a few seconds longer and you shifted uncomfortably, crossing your ankles together in a poor attempt to hide yourself. 
“What do you need?” you asked briskly, more sharp than you meant it to be. 
“Sorry,” he corrected himself, shaking his head and finally looking you in the eye. “I meant’a come by earlier… got caught up. I know this, ah, sex scene is tripping us up, so…” he trailed off, lifting up the white script he’d been holding behind his back. “Y’up for some practice?”
You blinked rapidly at the simple, innocent request. Mere rehearsal, not some lecherous late-night escapade you’d been dreaming up in your mind. “Oh… yes, of course,” you nodded numbly, moving out of the way to let him step in. 
Only moments later, when he’d perched onto the edge of your vanity — looking uniquely casual in what you assumed was his version of pajamas: baggy gray sweatpants and a fitted, well-worn black t-shirt — did you realize the connotations of rehearsing your sex scene. 
Sure, it was all pre-determined, every word you’d say and every action you’d perform, but still. Saying- and doing, such suggestive things after-hours? That was beyond your dirtiest fantasies.
However, you shook yourself internally: Cillian had come to rehearse the scene with professional intentions. Honestly, he’d probably done so because he was tired of you messing up the scene. He could do his own part masterfully, and you knew that if it’d been a better, more experienced actress by his side, filming would’ve moved on ages ago. 
You took shaky, tentative steps near him, settling on your bed, watching him flip through the script— when he looked up and frowned. 
“What’re you doing? Come here,” he gestured for you to come closer, almost a command. “We don’t have a desk, so we can use your vanity.”
You nodded, biting your lip and nervously complying with his words. “So, we’ll start from the beginning?” you asked, your voice -- and legs -- suddenly feeling terribly weak.
His eyes were still trained on the paper as he answered. “Not necessarily. The sex part s’really the only thing we’re having trouble with, yeah?” 
You gulped, throat dry. “Yeah, I guess so.” 
With that, he chanced one last look at the script, before diving into the scene. His actions were ones you were extremely familiar with, having attempted this scene everyday for at least a week now. 
His body turned to yours, hands coming up to your jaw, and pressing your back onto the table slightly. He held you tightly, and made you look at him, while delivering his lines softly, memorable Irish accent replaced by his character’s generic American one.
Jiltedly, you did the same, poorly remembering what you needed to say and dragging through it like some amateur. “Fuck, sorry,” you cursed suddenly, tearing away from his touch and sighing. 
He gave you a small, careful smile, immediately breaking out of character and taking a step away from the vanity. “No need t’be nervous. Practice makes perfect, right?” 
You snorted at his quoting of the director. “I just… I don’t know what he means by passionate. I’m trying to be professional about this but - but I’ve seriously never been in some steamy love-affair.”
“Can’t really expect that of you, can we? You’re too young, too much’ve a good girl for that kinda ‘ting.” He said, hand coming up to your shoulder, the one where your silk tanktop’s spaghetti strap had slipped off, rubbing it soothingly. 
You practically melted into a puddle at both the pet name and how the rough pads of his fingers brushed against your sensitive skin. You were so entranced you almost whined when he stopped and pulled up your fallen strap, but instead you wordlessly snatched the script that was dropped onto the table and found one of the lines, inhaling sharply and readying yourself. 
Your hand came up to tug on the sleeve of Cillian’s shirt, as dictated by the script. “Sir, please,” you whispered out in your character’s high pitched voice, “I - I… want you to touch me.”
“This is -- wrong. I’m your teacher, and I…” Cillian responded, swiftly back in character, the back of his palm grazing your cheek. “I gotta break your heart, darling.”
You looked up at Cillian, summoning crocodile tears to fill your gaze. “Please. I need you.” Then, one of your clammy hands ran down Cillian’s chest as you spoke, like it did back on set. “I think of you, at night. I soaked through my shorts the day you scolded me.”
You heard Cillian’s breath hitch- his character, you reminded yourself. “Fucking hell… I think of you in class, sweetheart,” he growled out perfectly. 
So far, so good, you thought. It wasn’t awkward, and was already miles better than the lackluster performances you’d given previously. You continued by leaning into Cillian’s touch, making him sit on the vanity— the part of the scene you’d gotten to this morning, before the director called cut.
This time, however, Cillian’s actions differed from the ones he was supposed to perform: instead of petting the crown of your head, his fingers trailed down your hips, sending shivers down your spine.
“I’ll be good for you, sir,” you recited, face growing hot as his hand inched closer to the curve of your ass. “You can do whatever you want to me.”
Cillian’s gaze had darkened now, flitting over your features. He didn’t say his line - or, had at least missed the timing, and you removed your hands from his body worriedly. “Are you alright—“
Before you could finish your sentence, Cillian had grabbed you by the ass, switching your places and setting you down on the edge of the vanity. 
“Cillian!“ you squeaked out, the only thing you could really say as you processed what exactly just happened. Your mind was swimming with confusion — and anticipation — as he stood before you, legs pressing on either side of your knees and trapping you on the vanity. 
“Improv,” he promised quietly in his telltale Irish accent, a sly wink appearing on his sharp features. 
You bit your lip, nodded, and repeated your line. You trusted him to guide you — and the rehearsal — because, as mentioned before, he did these kinds of things often. If he thought you’d act better if you sat on the vanity, you’d sit on the vanity. 
His hand then pet your hair, the other hand coming up to your chin and making you look up at him. “Whatever I want?” he murmured, back on track with the script. 
You bat your lashes at him. “Everything. I’m yours.”
Now, this is where you thought Cillian would stop— because after your line came the kissing and the touching and the heavy petting: all things you thus far hadn’t filmed at all, because you couldn’t even get the dialogue out right. 
Instead, he leaned down and began to press hungry kisses down your neck, making you gasp.
“What are you—“
“Shh,” he demanded softly, “it's all part of the scene, remember?”
You blinked dumbly, mouth opening and closing, unable to register a coherent thought or word. He said it was part of the scene but you’d read that script, and his teeth nipping lightly at your skin was not written anywhere within it.
But, you gulped down your thoughts, and belted out several more of your lines in tandem to his own. With his other hand gripping your thigh so tight you thought it might bruise, you were starting to think that maybe this was one of those lecherous late-night escapades you were dreaming of. 
All you’d been doing was acting, like he’d asked, but still, you could see clear as day how that’d affect him— how easily it could be to succumb. After all, you were just barely restraining yourself from jumping his bones: how could you not, with his gorgeous face just inches away from yours?
Well, acting or not, you’d enjoy every minute of this.
When one of his hands began playing with the waistband of your shorts as he suckled on your pulse, that just right spot on your neck, you couldn’t help the whimper that left your mouth. 
However, the noise seemed to startle him; jumpshock him back to reality, and your suspicions became completely confirmed when he pulled away from you roughly. 
“Fuck, I’m—“ a pained grimace washed over his features, looking you up and down like he just realized what he’d been doing. “I don’t know what came over me, I— shouldn’t… I shouldn’t have come here tonight.”
You stared at him, body disappointed at the lack of touch, watching him press his pink lips into a conflicted white line. “What - what d’you mean?”
His gaze coursed over your every feature, so intently you thought he was admiring your face. “I can’t— we can’t happen. Y’too young, you’re, you’re too…”
“Then we can stop. If that’s what you want,” you murmured coyly, hand coming up to pick a piece of thread off his thin shirt. “But only if you ask. C’mon, say it: I don’t want you and I want this to stop.”
He groaned, biting his lip. “Don’t do that. I can’t do that.”
“Do what?” You tilted your head to the side. 
“Tease. Because you know I won’t tell you to stop. ‘Cause I won’t be able to fucking control m’self,” he grumbled, before pressing a desperate, deep kiss to your lips, pulling you off the vanity and continuing down your chest.
“Then don’t. Take me for everything I have,” you whined, following his every move and manhandling touch. 
He breathed heavily between kisses. “Saying those kinds’a words with that pretty voice of yours… fuck, you’re doing things to me.” 
Your hands were trailing all over his body, and then you tugged his shirt off, desperate to feel him. He had similar thoughts, fingers dipping into your silk shorts and petting your hot mound. 
“Need you,” you panted, and, at your words, he suddenly tore off your silk shorts and panties in one clean go, making you shiver.
He then sat down on your vanity chair and roughly grabbed you by the hips to place yourself onto one of his thighs. The thick fabric of his sweatpants, taking in your wetness like a sponge, made you wince.
“Go on then,” he demanded darkly, “get y’self off on my fucking thigh. Show me how bad you need me.”
You bit your lip, face burning with shame at the order. But there was an aching need in your gut, and the way he crossed his arms, watching and waiting for you to get the hell on with it, had you clenching around his thigh.
Your hands gripped onto his shoulders, and you began slowly rutting against him, the soft fabric of his pants doing poor work for pleasuring your core. You pressed your face into his shoulder, screwed up at the lack of friction. 
“Can’t do it,” you whined, “Please.” 
He rolled his eyes. “You said you needed me. You’ve got me,” he gestured to his thigh, “so get to work.” Then, he suddenly flexed, making an unwarranted mewl leave your mouth.
You wanted nothing more than his fucking cock, but here you were, pathetically pleasuring yourself on his thigh until he allowed otherwise. You nodded resignedly, and dug your fingernails into his shoulders, starting to set a steady pace of grinding down on him, slowly building up the heat within your insides. 
You were moaning now, vigorously dragging your hips against him harder, needier, feeling the pressure in your cunt grow hotter and more rampant. 
“Y’hear that?” He asked, one of his fingers tilting your chin back up to face him. “D’you even realize how fucking delicious you sound, all needy f’me?”
You nodded, but weren’t really paying attention: you were closer than ever, just moments away from falling off the edge— when Cillian stopped you. 
“Stop,” he spoke, voice filled with sheer lust, and you whimpered at the abrupt loss of momentum. Then, he got up, holding you against him by the waist, looking down at his sweatpants. “You made such a mess… soaked all over m’pants.”
You didn’t — no, couldn’t respond to his musings, pressing your thighs together in an attempt to return friction to your needy pussy, biting down on your lip to muffle your breathy pants. 
He noticed this, however, smirking and quickly pressing you stomach down onto the vanity. You caught a glimpse of yourself for the first time since your shower, and you flushed with shame: your eyes were heavy-lidded and dilated, lips pink and slick with drool, your brows in a perpetual knit.
You looked fucking filthy, and when you felt Cillian press his thick head to your entrance, something you hadn’t noticed he’d pulled out, too enraptured in your dirty expression, you shut your eyes. 
You were suddenly so much more aware of the situation: you’d fucked yourself silly on your co-stars thigh, the co-star who was twice your age. He now knew you weren’t a talented aspiring actress, no, you were just a desperate little thing begging to be fucked. 
“Hey, hey,” He tutted in mock-disappointment, “open your eyes, and fucking watch yourself. It’ll be good for our scene.”
You whimpered helplessly, obeying him and fluttering your eyes open, as he pushed his cock past your dripping folds inch by inch. 
“Oh my god,” you cried out when he finally pressed all the way in. You felt so full, stretched to the brim with his hardened cock, so deep his balls touched your sticky clit.
“So fucking wet,” he commented, chuckling darkly behind you. You were totally slick, helping him enter you faster, but his cock was still a foreign intrusion to your inexperienced cunt: you were young, and had never been the type to “get around” — at least not with the intentions of getting fucked so much you could take any length of dick easily. 
You clenched around him, a groan leaving his mouth at the increased pressure around his cock, and he snapped into you, making you bounce forward as your lips parted with a sweet moan. 
You’d been focussed on his face, in the mirror, but Cillian’s hand suddenly tangled through your hair, grabbing a fistful of it and lifting your head to face yourself. “I told you to fucking watch yourself,” he spat, gripping your hair tightly. “you’re the reason we can’t wrap up, so do your job and fuckin’ practice.”
With that, Cillian started pounding into you, digging the rough pads of his fingers into your hip, and you would’ve protested such a fast progression — having been given barely any time to get used to his long cock — but your expression was even worse than before, if that was even possible. 
Your mouth was open, tongue out and panting like a fucking dog, your lustfully sticky spit spilling down your chin to your chest, and your eyes were rolling into the back of your head with each hearty thrust Cillian delivered you. The sounds you were making weren’t helping your embarrassment either, all unintelligible mewls and needy whines for his cock. 
“You’ve wanted me for so long, haven’t you? I always knew what a filthy desperate girl you were, pressing up against me during shooting… those naughty hands on my thighs,” he snickered. 
“Needed you in me so bad,” you whimpered, nodding enthusiastically, barely able to register what you were doing now with the pleasure washing over you and clouding your senses. Your back was arching into him, sucking in his cock and never wanting him to leave despite the mind-breaking ecstasy that was coming from his pounding. 
“Just look at your dirty fuckin’ face… so pathetic.” he murmured, leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek; sweet and lovely, a stark juxtaposition to his unrelenting rutting and degrading words. 
You whined at his words, but you knew they were true: you’d never seen yourself get fucked, always too busy with, well, getting fucked, but seeing yourself in the mirror like this had you unexpectedly hotter than before. There was just something about it, your face unabashedly contorting around the pleasure, Cillian’s hands snaking up your body as he rammed into you in the background. 
Kind of like your own personal porno, you thought offhandedly, and you wondered how it’d affect you if you filmed yourself. Hopefully, with Cillian. 
His other hand then came up to your folds, spreading them apart so he could see himself disappear into your hole. “Fuck, your cunt’s so perfect,” he growled, his head falling back, losing himself in the pleasure. 
The orgasm building in your gut wasn’t like the one when you’d been grinding down on his thick thigh, no, it came faster, making you sweat and your knees shake. You wanted more, and you gasped out “faster,” and “harder,” to Cillian, needing him in the stick spongy spot deep in your cunt. 
“Please,” you begged without any expectation of a real answer or action, “please, Cillian, please.”
He did go faster, though, to your apparent shock, both hands coming to your thighs to steady himself. “So needy,” he grumbled, pushing himself deeper and more swiftly into you, feeling how deliciously your fleshy walls tightened around his new pace. 
With that, your high came just as quick, hitting you like a fucking freight train and making you scream out his name. Your orgasm wrecked you, made your vision go white and your thoughts stutter to a complete halt, and you vaguely made out Cillian’s proud hum, whispering “Good girl,” in your ear. 
When you came to, your head was hanging low, your eyes blown out, lips puffy. Cillian was still thrusting into your worn-out pussy, but it was more jilted, shaky and needy. 
“Come in me,” you pleaded suddenly, gripping the vanity to keep your trembling legs up, “fill me up, please, make your come spill out of me.”
“Good god, girl,” he groaned, pounding one last thrust into you before letting go, his cock pulsing around your wet core. He was pressed up to you so deep you could feel him shoot his load right into your cervix, and you grinned weakly, a sweet image of you: knocked up with his kid, your cunt so young and fertile you’d get pregnant from just about anything from him, entering your mind. 
After a moment, he slipped his softening cock out of your filthy cunt and picked you up by the waist to set you down on the vanity and keep you from falling onto the floor. 
“Thank you,” you mumbled, looking up at him through your lashes. You then bit your lip, feeling his thick load of creamy come ooze out of your used hole onto your vanity. 
He noticed too, letting out a satisfied groan, spreading your legs lightly, before collecting himself on his finger and pushing his come back into your cunt. “Such a good girl,” he reiterated, going back to being sweet and petting your hair, doting on your weak form, looking deep into your eyes. 
You swooned at his delicate actions. “Is this a good time to say I like you?” 
He laughed, all adoringly. “It’s as good a time as any. I like you, too, if it’s any consolation.” 
“But you, y’know… you said I was too young,” you reminded him, frowning slightly. 
He sighed, gaze drifting away nervously for a moment before coming back to you. “That I did, but, well… if you wanna take this old man for a ride before I keel over,” he shrugged.
You couldn’t help the laugh that belted out of you, his words so ridiculous and completely not based in reality. “Oh, sure,” you said, shaking your head, lips still in an amused tilt, “you’re mine, old man.”
Before he could speak, probably say another stupid joke, your hands wrapped around his neck and you pulled him toward you, pressing a soft kiss to his plump lips. 
“I like you like you, okay?” You whispered, sounding incredibly juvenile but twice as heartfelt, your tone wavering and self-conscious. You were bearing your heart on your sleeve here, okay, acknowledging feelings you thought should never come to light. 
His hands came up to your face, gently holding you. “Good thing I like you like you, too.”
ii.
“Cut!” The director called, and you swore you felt your heart drop to the floor. Fuck, you thought, mind racing, what went wrong this time? Was it the kissing, or the hands in the hair?
However, the director came up to you and Cillian and let out an uncharacteristic shriek of delight. “Perfection,” he said simply, bordering on catatonic with how content he was. 
Your shoulders slumped with relief, and you leaned into Cillian, who was subtly dancing his fingers across your thigh. “It’s finished?” you asked, breathless with excitement.
The director nodded. “That was electric, needy, tense, delicious, passionate, so, so passionate,” he continued with a gasp, hands clasping together tightly.  “You are two of the most amazing actors I have ever worked with— you are incredibly talented, so convincing I’d have thought you did sleep together.” 
You preened at his praise, but not without looking up at Cillian, meeting his gaze and barely keeping your expression happy and neutral and not at all warm at the thought of the other night's events. 
As the director went off rambling about the utter masterpiece the movie was to be, Cillian trailed behind you off the set, murmuring lowly in your ear, “I guess practice does make perfect.”
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lizthewriter · 3 months
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messy / regina george
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PAIRING  regina george x fem!reader
SUMMARY  you and regina have been secretly hooking up for months, but she breaks up with you when you ask for more. after she gets hit by a bus, you fear for her life and whatever relationship you have left.
TAGS  regina george x fem!reader, hurt/comfort, angst, happy ending, queer!, reneé rapp is so fine 😫😫, internalized homophobia, use of d-slur (lesbian slur)
QUOTE  "half of all my exes regret me, / but none of them will ever forget me, / loving me gets really messy," - messy by reneé rapp
WRITTEN  1.13.2024
WORD COUNT  1.3K
A/N everytime reneé showed up on screen, i literally started banging my fists against my seat because she SERVED CUNT!!!! SHE WAS SO FINE!!!! literally after the movie, my best friend said to me: "i think you're just gay. i think you're a woman kisser. you might just have a little fruit in your cup."
slammed up against the wall, you felt regina's teeth clash furiously against yours. it was all hot passion - how your lips ran feverishly against hers as though you'd never get to feel her touch again, the way her hands ran up and down the sides of your body as though she needed to memorize the shape of you. days the two of you had gone without a moment to yourselves. days you had spent fantasizing about her pressing you up against the wall. it wasn't that you didn't want a normal relationship. it wasn't that you didn't want to kiss and hold hands and go on cute dates, but . . . that wasn't regina's style. she was closeted. heavily. actually, you weren't sure that she even understood that making out with girls was perhaps the most gay thing she could do, but you were willing to take what you were given. it was regina george, after all.
she pulled away from you by biting gently down on your lip, letting go when she could no longer stretch it any longer. "god, you're so hot," she whispered with a smirk, unbuttoned the first two buttons of your shirt. she reclaimed the control she had over your body, pressing her lips to your collarbone. your hands somehow found their way to her beautiful blond locks, scraping her scalp with the sharp edge of your nails. fantasy was nothing like reality. you had forgotten how good it felt, but how terrible it was all at once. as her warm breath tickled your skin, doubts that had been haunting you the past few days filled your mind slowly. was this healthy? didn't you deserve a healthy queer relationship, one that would be open and free and full of love, real love?
you wanted it all. you wanted the life you saw other queer girls have all around the world. going on cute picnic dates with homeade muffins and favorite books, sitting in the lap of your partner and doing their makeup, snuggling on the couch while watching a movie. holding hands while strolling the town center. it was hard to keep these thoughts back any longer. they overflowed.
you felt regina freeze as you gently pushed her away from where she had latched onto your upper chest. "can we, um, talk?" you ask. she could hear the tone in your voice. you knew she could. the way her eyes met yours made your stomach twist with discomfort.
"talk?" she asked in an incredulous tone, pulling away.
"it's just that, well, hear me out first. i like you. i really like you, a lot! that's why i really want us to be more than . . . making out in the custodian's closet after school and sneaking into your room while your mom's asleep," you explained nervously, stumbling over your words. finally able to meet her eyes, all hope was shattered as you felt her icy stare fixed upon your flushed face.
"i thought we made a deal when we started this. nothing more than this." she barked out a bitter laugh and fluffed out her hair. "what, did you think i was some kind of dyke or something? this was supposed to be fun. nice job stamping out that fire." she opened the door to the closet and waltzed out like nothing had happened. as if you didn't spend the entire last three months building a bond. heart: broken.
-
fear couldn't describe the emotion you felt driving to the hospital. it was gut-wrenching, blood-curdling, heart-tearingly excruciating. the rumors swirling around made your sick with worry. could she really be dead?
you weren't there when it happened. you had been driving home and then doing homework, hiding your phone away in a drawer somewhere to keep you distracted. it wasn't until hours later that you checked your notifications to realize she had been admitted to the er.
you rushed into the hospital, demanding to hear about her condition.
"are you immediate family?" the nurse at the desk asked. of course you lied. of course you said yes. she gave you the room number and told you that you could wait in the hall - the doctors were talking with her mother and you would need to wait until she woke up herself.
when you arrived at the door to her room, you were afraid to look inside. you weren't sure why. she was alive, yes. maybe you were afraid she was still upset with you. or worse, she had amnesia and forgot about you completely. dejected, you collapsed into the very comfortable plastic chair next to her room.
a few minutes later, the door opened and the doctors and mrs. george exited the room. you stood up suddenly, expectant in your expression.
"she's fine. she's going to heal 100%, she just needs to wear a corrective neck bracelet for several weeks," the doctors assured you. you could relax, just a little. they walked down the hall, chatting softly. mrs. george grinned at you - you had met before, of course, being introduced as one of regina'a friends.
"well, look who we have here! did you hear the news? they said my name on the evening," she told you excitedly, as though her daughter weren't stuck in the hospital from injuries resulting for being hit. by a bus. "head on in darling, those cute boys said she'd be awake soon." her eyes trailed down the hall to the two doctors that had revived regina. with a mini-wave and a "toodle-doo!" she was down the hall and full on flirting with men much younger than herself.
the doorknob to regina's room stared back at you with intimidation so strong you almost turned around and drove home. you reached out a closed your hand around the cool metal, slowly turning it until you were passing through the doorway and standing feet away from her bed. it didn't feel as scary as you thought, entering her room, staring over at her bed. she looked more at peace then you had ever seen her, she looked prettier than you had ever seen her. without her mean-girl face, she seemed a lot more genuine. a lot more like the regina that opened up to you that one chilly night in december.
you silently pulled a chair next to her bed and sat there, waiting for her to wake up. you didn't mind the wait, in a way. because she was sitting there next to you, and she was going to be okay.
when regina awoke, she seemed more confused than anything. her brows furrowed as she looked around the room, her eyes finally landing on you.
"hey," you said all of a sudden, sitting up straight. "you're okay, you're fine. you're . . . in the hospital."
"what are you doing here?" not snappy or bitter or angry. genuine.
"i heard you got hit by a bus," you said, biting your bottom lip anxiously. would she yell at you? tell you she never wanted to see you again? "i heard . . . i you died. i just had to see for myself, to make sure you were okay. i'm sorry, if you don't want me here, i'll -"
"don't leave!" she shouted, grabbing your hand. you stared down at the place where her skin met your hand. this wasn't happening. this couldn't be happening. her fingers intertwined with yours and you find her eyes to be pleading you. "please, just don't leave."
"regina -"
"just shut up and listen, okay?" she told you, sounding upset, but it didn't seem to be an emotion she was directing towards you. you sat back down and scooted your chair closer to her. "i want us to be something more too . . . okay? i like you, loser."
you narrowed your eyes at her. "is this regina george trying to be nice?" you asked dubiously.
"don't ruin the moment or i'm taking everything i said back."
"no," you said quickly, shaking your head with a smile. you placed your other hand on the one clasped in hers. "it's a good look on you. really."
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tender-rosiey · 8 months
Note
oh em gosh imagine gojo with an s/o who's basically as obsessed and in love with him as he is with us <33 and every1 is just like 😒ugh get a room
back and forth — gojo satoru x f!reader
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a/n: equally being obsessed with each other>>> also check out @novelbear her prompts are out of their world! I used some of the dialogue prompts hehe
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you would like to say that you’re immune to satoru’s charms, but then you would be a liar.
sometimes you, sure, can say no, but most of the time you indulge him. he uses his pretty face and even prettier words to get his way. it does reassure you that you have the same effect on him. actually, he can never say no to you.
he once sat with himself to think that maybe he is spoiling you, and he needs to stop, but then you entered the room beaming, smooching his face and asking to go to that one café that opened recently.
satoru’s original plan was to do the paperwork yaga has been yelling to him about, but how can he say no to you? so with a grin, he locked arms with you and the both of you skipped to the café.
so yeah, you’re both so down horrendous for each other and neither of you can deny it.
it’s terrible for everyone around you.
the way the both of you are screaming each other’s name from a mile away and running towards each other like you're in some romance movie. the hug is even more dramatic than the running, somehow.
the balant display of affection makes the students all roll their eyes.
one time, you called satoru from home and you had a call that lasted for an hour or so. eventually, you had to hang up since satoru had a class to teach. however, these goodbyes take even longer than the call itself.
“I love you, ‘toru!”
“I love you, my pretty angel!”
“I love you more, my lovely husband!”
“I love you even more, my divine wifey!”
and it continued like that forever. the students almost lost hope to get any education that day, but satoru finally said, “okay, pretty, I have to go now.”
they beam as they hear your voice replying with a sweet ‘okay!’, but they quickly deflated when satoru relaxed back and said, “but you have to hang up first.”
of course, what followed was a ‘no, you hang up first!’.
one and after another and nobara had enough before snatching satoru’s phone and instead speaking to you, “okay, y/n-sensei, we all love you, but we need this guy to teach us something so bye!”
satoru spent the entire day pouting.
another thing is how the both of you take pictures of the other while they are unaware. at first, you would think there is nothing wrong with it, and there isn’t.
but both of you love to fawn about the other in front of your students or friends.
satoru rambles with the most passionate and energetic fangirling ever to nanami, an audience that’s about to jump off a building, and you, who refuses to believe his beauty, ramble to shoko who’s about to finish 4 packs of cigarettes.
in general, satoru is a lot more brazen with his show of affection. for example, the way he shamelessly stares at you like he is memorizing your every feature.
sometimes, his hands wander to your face to gently caress it, then his lips follow, pressing a peck to every part of your face, drawing constellations of love. he then pulls back with a smile, “you’re really pretty, y’know?”
he always says what’s on his mind, and he is the type of lover to help you challenge your limits. he pays the people around him no mind as he pulls you in the rain with a grin, saying, “come on, dance with me!”
and you do your best. you’re both clumsy in your steps and you’re swaying more than dancing. satoru’s infinity is off and you’re both soaked.
still, satoru thinks you’ve never looked prettier, and you think his eyes never shone brighter.
there are times when words escape you before you think about them like that one time satoru was in a mini rush to go on a mission and forgot to give you a goodbye kiss. before he dashed out the door, you held him by the shirt and frowned, “my kiss?”
despite his blindfold, shock was evident on his face. he recovered quickly though. with a chuckle, he murmured a soft, “right sorry, wifey,” and kissed you passionately. he pulled back slightly, “am I forgiven?”
you nodded lightly and kissed his cheek, “yup; now go, mister strongest sorcerer.”
“I prefer my lovely husband, but that will do as well.”
he likes to tease you too. it’s in his nature, something he does with everyone he knows. of course, there is some teasing reserved especially for you.
satoru also loves hearing you sing his praises or verbalize your love for him. like that one time you were going on a mission and murmured an ‘I love you’ to his lips, but he quickly stopped you and said, “what did you say, pretty?”
you looked at him confused, “I said I love you,” you poke his cheek, “you heard me.”
he laughed, pulling you close and pressing a kiss to your neck, “I know; I just wanted you to say it again.”
you wanted to roll your eyes, but instead, you cupped his face, pulled him down, and started smothering him with kisses. you pressed a kiss to his cheek, “I love you,” then the other one, “I adore you,” his forehead, “I am infatuated with you,” his eyelids, “I can’t imagine a day without you.”
a big wide grin was plastered on satoru’s face and his cheeks were painted a very faint hue of red. you chuckled at his expression, “was that enough?”
he enveloped you in a big hug, resting his face on yours, “one more time, please?”
for you, you see satoru in a several things in your daily life. you see him in the blue sky above you. you see him in the glass of the bakery you pass by. you see him in the white cat that always walks by your side near the school.
you also hear him in the some of the songs you listen to, and you don’t hesitate to let him know.
one time when you were stargazing on the roofs of the school, playing your playlist since the time before it was satoru’s turn. a specific song started playing and it made you smile, before you spoke up, “y’know, satoru.”
he hums and you continue, “this song reminds me of you.”
you don’t hear a response, so you turn to look at him, “it’s actually one of my favori—satoru? satoru, are you tearing up?!” you laugh, leaning close to him, and he looks away.
“nope!”
behind closed doors, and with great distances separating the both of you, you never fail to call the other to feel their presence even through a phone. it’s practically a ritual for you and satoru to video call whenever one is out on a mission.
you can talk for hours and hours on end or relish in the silence, comforted by the fact that you can see each other.
satoru always insists on them, saying that he sleeps better when he see you. you share the same sentiment, so there’s no surprise that you both always fall asleep on call.
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copyright © tender-rosiey
do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported
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satoruhour · 10 months
Text
UNDERCUT
a/n: based off a tweet that said gojo would purr if u touched his undercut. listened to peace piece while writing ✶
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there is something about lying on sheets that match gojo satoru’s hair, while the gentle breeze of the autumn morning filters through your blinds. there are both birds singing in the trees and butterflies in your stomach from merely having your lover close to you; it’s second nature to wake up and crave his warmth.
undercut’s getting long. we’d have to trim it soon.
and when your silence and thoughts are interrupted by someone’s morning groans and hums from the glare of the tokyo sky, a smile naturally graces your lips. even now, your hand hasn’t stopped brushing through his locks.
“good morning, my love,” the expression he gives matches yours exactly: his chest immediately feels tight when he sees you, morning breath and all, he gets giddy and tingly and wants to kiss you all over. you’re wondering why he hasn’t done it yet.
slow like the morning, slow like these words, satoru props himself up with his elbows, easily reaching for your face before you both sink into a gentle, slow kiss. it’s so sweet that you’re sure it could turn (faux) insult into ardour and you don’t even notice you need air until the both of you break away and giggle softly at your flushed faces. 
“your undercut is growing fast, y’know. we’d have to cut it soon,” the tips of your fingers run over the short strands of hair subconsciously, mouth gaping open a little when satoru closes his eyes and hums at the feeling.
“do it again.”
you laugh, “okay,” and you do, softly guiding your hands over the fuzzy hairs and gaining content sighs and soft moans from the man. gojo has to hide in your stomach, needing to be closer to you as you continue your hypnotising gesture.
“like it when your hair’s touched, huh?” the other hums yet again.
“only when my baby’s doing it.” there’s a ghost of a smile in your stomach, possibly from hearing the flutters of the butterflies in your tummy.
his embrace tightens around you when he sits up, towering over you now as the sky turns dark for a morning shower. fickle-minded weather, satoru would say, click his tongue and shake his head and you grin harder imagining it; your lovers asks why.
“nothing, just thinking.”
“of me? you better be, darling,” gojo thumbs your waist under the shirt you’re wearing, sleep still evident in his voice in the way he slurs his words — it could also be that he’s terribly, deeply in love with you and is simply high off of your presence.
and if that wasn’t the case before, it is now when he leans in again for a rougher kiss, moaning into your mouth as you continue to stroke his undercut. he can taste the sun on your mouth and the imminent rain to come all on you.
“i love you like how poets write,” satoru whispers against your lips in between kisses, and he runs hot, the back of his neck heating up from how much he adores you; it almost burns like flames licking at paper. “how the rain chases the sun.”
gojo tears a little because how the fuck would he have gotten this much love under the home of one of the most powerful clans? essentially nothing — and now he has the closest resemblance of a deity in his arms who knows exactly how many spoons of sugar he likes in his tea and how kikufuku is made from one of his rambles.
“you’re okay, i got you.” you mumble, fingers prepared at his eyes (you heard him sniffle). “i love you too.” 
gojo’s heart is full when you reply to his confession, kissing you again (favourite thing in the world) and stifling smiles as the rain makes its first fall in the serenity of your room. he thinks of declaring his love, but is certain his love would overflow later at breakfast, at reading hour, at movie night.
satoru merely settles for calling you his sweet, sweet girl in between saccharine pecks and making sure he loves you louder than that morning downfall and every other downpour that’s sure to come.
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if you know me i think you’ll know i have a problem with this gojo obsession
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marycorcaroli · 7 months
Text
one piece boys as boyfriends.
luffy, zoro, usopp, sanji, buggy.
req ♡: Can I request the one piece boys as boyfriends/ dating them headcanons?
mary ♡: thanks for the request and hope you like it ! english is not my first language, i apologize for any mistakes.
rules ; masterlist.
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luffy.
— luffy is the sweetest guy ever ! i'm sure he will live up to all your expectations and be the best of the best.
— he's a little awkward around you :( but he's also very loud ! ! he wants the whole world to hear that you're his girlfriend ! !
— he is not the jealous type at all. luffy trusts you with his whole heart and soul, he knows that you will never cheat or betray him and neither will he ever hurt you. you have guy friends and luffy trusts them! he hangs out with them and is not afraid that they will take you away from him. he is fine as long as your friends don't harass you or make cruel jokes about you.
— luffy loves hugs more than anything else! the way you give him your warmth and share that intimate moment with him is all luffy needs. he loves to hug at all hours of the day and night, his arms will always be around you!
— he loves kissing you just as much! he kisses you on the tip of your nose when he goes out and on your forehead so you know he's there for you and won't leave you. he kisses behind your ear when you dance together. he kisses your moles or freckles because they're your specialty and he loves them ♡ !
— ! he's a terrible cook ! he'd rather burn down your kitchen and all the equipment and then make puppy dog eyes: "i'm sorry, please, i wanted to please you, but it didn't work out..." don't yell at him 👊
— sleeps like a baby and holds you close to him so you don't run away.
— goes to the bathroom with you because he thinks a monster will take you (he can't watch horror movies).
— gives you presents at the most unexpected times !
— his love languages are touch and words ! he can't take his hands off you and stop saying words of everlasting love.
— luffy is crazy about your smile :( the way your eyes shine and the dimples on your cheeks don't go away makes his heart flutter like it's your first date.
— doesn't like to fight with you ;( even if you have an argument he will try to settle it right away so you go to bed calm, but if it doesn't work out and you go somewhere else.... his heart breaks into little pieces, the fact that it's so bad that you left 😐 will apologize to you a few million times and will do anything to make you forgive him!
zoro.
— the most needy boy :( he needs you to hug him and hold him several times in a second while he inhales the smell of your hair and draws constellations on your back with his hands.
— that's why his love language is always touching.
— he arranges the most incredible dates for you! he chooses the places himself and afterwards invites you on this little journey where he will propose marriage to you.
— for some people marriage is just a stamp in the passport and rings, but for zoro it's a whole life, so he bound your hearts and souls into one, made tearful vows to you, promising to always be there for you in sorrow and in joy.
— hugs are part of his routine. he hugs you every chance he gets. his favorite is the back hug when you're cooking something and zoro dances a little and sings your favorite song.
— kisses you on the lips in the most tender way to convey his feelings. on the eyelids to give you support and on the cheeks to show you how cute you are.
— he snores like a baby but will wake up as soon as you try to get up, he's used to sleeping with you and snuggling up to you that he won't sleep without you.
— he's a little spoon ! !
— loves to go shopping with you and buy something interesting for your home.
— during arguments, when he can't hear you and makes you talk even louder, and the situation in your house gets heated - he just walks away, leaving you alone. later, of course, he will beg for forgiveness and kiss you, and promise that it won't happen again, it's true. he doesn't want your beautiful and clean place to turn into a dumping ground for quarrels and humiliation.
— jealous often, but he doesn't make scandals, but just stands by you like a guard until your admirer runs away.
usopp.
— he's so cute ! you want to kiss his cheeks forever and look into those eyes that show endless love for you.
— he climbs into your room through the window, like in the most romantic movies, without fail ! with flowers in his teeth, "did you miss me?"
— his love language is giving you presents and jumping in puddles while it's raining ! ! !
— he loves to lay on you and squeeze you so hard ! he just wants to show you how much he loves you. for usopp, hugging is something normal, he is tactile himself, but with you, it's magnified several times ! ! he is not afraid to be real with you and he shows everything he has.
— we're not done talking about hugs yet ! another one of usopp's favorite hugs is after a hard day of hardly seeing each other and now you're trying to support each other, for him these moments are the saddest, he'll even cry a little because he couldn't give you a minute all day long ;( my boy.
— kisses too hot! his lips are on yours in seconds and his palms on your neck are clenched while your brain is trying to understand what's going on.
— but he also loves sweet kisses, where you kiss him on the cheek and tell him how cute he is.
— sleeping on you ! you can't get up, so you have to literally throw him off you, "wtf? usopp? i can't breathe, get off 😐."
— he likes to watch comedies and ask every minute about what's gonna happen next.
— there is no room for arguments in your relationship, he will quickly put things into a happy environment and give you his beautiful smiles, but if you do have a problem he will listen to you and do everything in his power to make sure you're okay and not worry about anything.
— he's not jealous at all! why would he be? you're together and you love each other, you know he would never cheat on you and usopp knows you would never do the same, that's why you're fine.
sanji.
— he is such a gentleman ! he opens doors for you all the time, gives you things and does everything to make you feel at ease !
— his love languages are helping each other, supporting you in hard times and spending time together ! all these things are important to sanji as a man who wants to cherish your every moment.
— he loves just holding you close to you and kissing your neck while goosebumps run through your body. sanji also likes hugs where he pats your back and soothes you, hugs where sanji tosses you up and hears your most beautiful laugh.
— he likes to embarrass you so much! to see you blush and cover your face with your hands while sanji mocks and comes over to you ready to destroy you with a tickle.
— he cooks for you all the time, and it's delicious, he loves to surprise you with his new recipes, he doesn't mind if you help him with the cooking, which then turns into a game of survival.
— sanji is crazy about the unexpected kisses from you, he's just sitting there reading a magazine as you come up and give him the most sensual kiss in the world, but he doesn't mind the air kisses where he puts all his desire to kiss you.
— will watch your favorite shows with you, he doesn't care what it is, as long as you like it, he likes it.
— he's a little spoon! he loves it when your nose is against his back and your palms are stroking his chest, sanji gets so calm and he sleeps the most beautiful sleep ;(
— sanji is sometimes unbearable and it hinders your relationship, he likes it when you get angry and show your temper, but he won't let it go too far, you are his favorite, so sanji doesn't really want you to lose your nerve cells completely.
— he can only be jealous sometimes, but then he remembers that you're still his and he doesn't have to worry.
buggy.
— the most charismatic guy in the world ! flirts with you 24/7 and he is not ashamed. he will make you as red as a tomato and then kiss you on the corner of your mouth.
— loves the hottest kisses when you run out of air but you don't want to let go of each other. will lose his head if you kiss his shoulder or earlobe, BUgGY DoN'T BreAthe ! ! your lips are so airy but leave the wettest kisses.
— jealous quite a lot :( he trusts you completely, but doesn't trust the other people who want to take you away from him. even if you have been in a relationship for a long time, buggy is still afraid that you will find a better person than him.
— big spoon ! loves to hold you tight and smell you ! wakes up several times during the night to make sure you are near, even if he still has a dead grip on you.
— likes to take long walks with you and give you the most delicious drinks.
— he's not the best cook, but he'll learn to cook and get a michelin star for you.
— he doesn't think what he says, and when he realizes it, it's too late. he may accidentally tell you everything he thinks, and then he will kneel down and beg you to take him back. you are the most precious thing in his life and if he loses you, buggy will lose his air and the meaning of life.
— he likes to watch soap operas! absolutely any kind, there is no difference, because he likes everything and later he can discuss it all with you.
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what about edging eddie everytime he comes over to visit you? Grinding or sucking him off only to stop right before he comes every single time.
The way this has been SITTING in my ask box since August :(( I'm sorry. 💕🩷
Can this be bestfriend!Eddie? Because it screams best friend eddie.
The thought of edging Eddie just does something to me. He'd be so whiny about it too whispering to make him cum but you won't and he knows it too. His soft needy cries with that deep voice as your tongue teases his leaking tip. He gets so frustrated when he's about to spill his cum in the back of your throat but you pull him out everytime
Besfriend!Eddie munson x fem!reader
Not proofread.
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Your friendship with Eddie was very special. You did everything together. Even fooled around when you got lonely or drunk. You had an agreement of "as long as everything is above the waist," it's okay. Sometimes, things did eventually happen.
You and him didn't date much, so you ended up learning how to give a blow job from him. You taught him how to eat pussy. You practiced on one another. You felt like it was only right to get some experience in for whenever someone asked either one of you out.
That's just how close you two were. It never felt weird or awkward, either. But those type moments only happened once you never spoke of them again. You just heavily made out a lot and did some heavy petting.
Not that you didn't enjoy feeling each other. You most definitely did. You guys felt kinda bad about not having much experience being your early twenties. At least you have one another he'd always reassured. Deep down, Eddie always wanted to make you his.
Now he likes to come over to your place on the weekends to watch a movie and eat junk food. Usually, he brings pizza and rents a terrible b-horror flick from family video.
A loud kick to your door startles you at, and you walk over to look out the peephole.
"Pizza is here, sweetheart." Eddie greeted you with a big smile as you answered your door. That smile soon faltered when he noticed what you were wearing.
You never cared if Eddie saw you naked. You've seen him naked plenty of times when he was drunk off his ass and needed a shower. You opened the door in nothing but a thin tank top and panties that hugged your ass just right. He immediately gulped at the sight.
"It's about time Munson what movie did you pick." You giggled taking the food from his hands.
He clears his throat. "Oh, uhhhhhh, Slumber party massacre." He scratched the back of his neck as he tried to avoid looking so flustered.
"Slumber pary massacre--the movie with the chicks in lingerie getting slaughtered?" You eyed him and got plates ready for the pizza.
"Not surprised that's the movie you'd pick."
You don't really notice how he's looking at you. You're too focused getting the food ready for you and him to eat. You moved around your apartment, and his eyes followed your every step.
Eddie couldn't stop staring at you. His eyes fixed on the curve of your ass and the way your nipples were poking through the material of your shirt. He tries to discreetly readjust himself, so you see the obvious growing buldge in his jeans.
"Yeah, well, we've watched everything else in that video store." Eddie looked down at his feet with his hands in his pockets.
His cock was throbbing against the zipper of his jeans. He stood there by the door, not moving a muscle. He thought if he didn't move, you'd forget he was even there.
"Hey Eddie." You called out softly to him.
His head perks up and his eyes meet yours. "W-whats up?"
"Come sit with me." You pat the empty spot next to you on the couch.
The pizza and drinks were already laid out and ready to eat. Eddie couldn't focus on anything but you. His mind races at all the possibilities of taking you right there on the couch. Your pussy getting split open around his cock. Your cute, soft little moans in his ear. Your juices dripping down your thighs while he fucked you roughly in your living room. Your poor neighbors hearing your cries of pleasure.
The movie was playing, but he has no idea what's even happening or cares for that matter. His eyes kept glancing over at you. You're sitting with your legs criss-cross while eating your third slice of pizza. He had one foot propped up on your coffee table as he licked his lips watching you.
Your eyes focus on the shitty movie he rented. You were right he did pick this out to watch half-naked women run around in the skimpiest lingerie. The killer having a guitar as a weapon now makes perfect sense now, too. Truthfully. It was the closest thing to porn Eddie could get you to watch with him. He was a bit of perv, and he'll admit that.
He eyes keep wandering over to your figure from the swell of your breasts down to your thighs. His head leaned forward to get a tiny glimpse of what's between your legs. Your underwear doing you no justice in covering much of anything at all. He smiled to himself. his mouth watered, remembering the night he tasted you.
You could feel his eyes on you practically all night long. He was acting a little funny the second he walked through the front door. You chalked it up to him working too much and needing some rest. You tried to ignore his lingering stare. You just couldn't any longer.
"You okay?" You looked over at him. You noticed he hasn't eaten one single slice of pizza. "You seem a little...antsy I guess."
He coughed and tried to play it cool. "Me? No, no, I'm fine."
You squinted at him. "I don't believe you."
"Alright, fine." He threw his back and groaned. "it's you."
"Me?" You asked, confused. "What about me?"
"It's....you. it's always you. You always make me so hot and I feel like anytime I'm around you I can't even fucking think straight." Eddie confessed. He was speaking so fast that you barely had time to register what he was saying.
You sit there quietly, not saying a word yet. You don't want to misinterpret what he's trying to tell you. even though you have a pretty good idea of what it's about.
"I--look. Listen--Touch me. Please. We don't have to have sex. Just touch me. Make me beg. I don't even have to cum. I just need to feel you." He voice sounded so desperate.
His eyes looked into yours, and you couldn't deny him. His brown eyes are looking deep into yours. You nod and move to sit in his lap with your back against his chest. His arms instinctively wrapped around your waist, keeping you close. Your ass pressing right up against his cock. You could feel just how hard he is.
"Why didn't you say something sooner?" You whispered.
"Didn't want to make shit uncomfortable." His voice muffled as he peppered light kisses on your neck.
Your eyes flutter closed when his soft lips touch your skin. "You'd never make me uncomfortable we've done lots of things together before."
"I know I just never want you to feel like I'm using you." Eddie leaves a trail of wet kisses from your neck and down to your shoulder. You moved your head back to give him better access.
His hips lift slightly to rub up into your ass. He cursed under his breath, and your hands went down to grip on his thighs
"Fuck sweetheart grind on me." He said breathlessly.
You nod and move your hips back and forth in his lap. Your ass rubbing on his cock over his jeans. His arms wrapping around you tighter as he buries his face in your neck.
"That's it, sweetheart grind that cute ass on me." Eddie grunted and bucked up his hips for some added friction.
You pressed down harder on his cock. Your hips swiveling in a circular motion. He's whimpering in your ear. His legs bounce up and down while you grind on him. You dig your nails into his thighs to hold on tight.
"Fuck please---id do anything for you sweetheart. Anything." Eddie rasped in your ear. "You can have my cock whenever you want it."
"You think I could take it?" You teased and pushed your ass on him hard, making him jerk.
"Baby ill make sure you can take it. Y-you're such a good girl." He groaned and grinded himself up against your ass.
You continued moving back and forth on his cock. You could feel his breathing quickening just by how his chest pressed into your back.
"I know how messy you can get. Thinking about having you squirting all over me." His voice is shakey as your hips switch to moving back in a circular motion again.
You whimper at his words and feel yourself growing wetter. Your panties are completely soaked through. His voice is trembling, and his arms are constricting around you. There is a small wet patch forming on his jeans from the mess you've created in your panties and his precum.
"Mmm, I'm so close." He moans, and you slow down.
You stopped your movements for a few seconds, and Eddie whines. He swallows and tries to control himself.
After a few more minutes, you start moving. His cock is so sensitive and begging for release. He needs to cum so bad but loves the feeling of you edging him. The feeling of getting so close only for you to stop is driving him crazy.
You speed up and your ass grinds down on his cock. Your pace went from fast to slow anytime he got close again. You kept getting him close to the edge only to stop or slow down. it was almost too painful for him to keep going but liked it. His face is covered in sweat.
"let me cum." Eddie beggee and bit down on your shoulder. You whimpered from the pain.
Shaking your head no and grind your ass down on his cock. The material of his boxers scratched against him. He was becoming needy for you the more you teased him.
"Fuck please let me cum baby---please." He kept begging. Your pussy was aching for some type of relief. His breath tickled your throat while he spoke. "Shit I'm gonna cum."
"Oh," your eyebrows shoot up, and you stop. You moved his arms from around your waist and went to sick back down in your spot.
"I-i thought." He swallows and sinks back. His legs spread wide open. The look he gave you almost made you feel guilty for stopping.
You could see that wet patch on his lap that's much more noticeable than you thought. His painfully hard cock straining against his pants.
"You said you didn't have to cum. Remember?" You teased and went back to watching the movie.
Eddie smirked and moved to scoot closer to you." If I make you cum around my fingers will you let make me cum?" He whispered seductively.
"Maybe... we'll see how good you make me feel first."
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periprose · 11 months
Text
Arachnid Anxiety
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You're Spider-Woman, and you've been tasked with babysitting Mayday. Maybe you have a bit of stress that you need to vent about, and Hobie comes along quite conveniently for that purpose.
Genre: Fluff, reader having anxiety, Hobie giving her advice, very cute, reader is a Jessica Drew variant, perhaps mutual pining if you squint, takes place during the movie but before Miles arrives to the Society, terrible british slang attempts (sorry Hobie :'))
Word Count: 2.4k
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Babies are hard to wrangle when they’re crawling up walls.
Of course, Peter B. Parker said that he needs a nap, just this once, and he needs someone to watch over Mayday while he sneaks away into the sleeping pods in the Spider-Society-System. Sometimes he and MJ don’t get sleep for days at a time, so you get it.
But Mayday is so curious, and you find yourself having to pull her prying hands away before she inadvertently tampers with things around Miguel’s labs and causes either a mass outage or a explosion or Miguel’s wrath. You understand why Peter is a little exhausted.
She’s a very cute baby, though, and you can’t help but coo at her as she clambers off the wall into your arms. 
“Who’s a good Spidey? Who’s gonna be the best of us?” You shake her up and down and she giggles, wrapping her arms around you. 
You instinctively flinch, feeling your Spider-Sense go off.
“Large statement to make. But I see where you’re coming from.” Spider-Punk comes up from behind you, and you turn to him. “She’s definitely punk.”
“Hey, don’t go claiming someone else’s kid as one of your own.” You joke, and Hobie scowls as he pulls off his mask.
“Don’t believe in claims. Or labels, for that matter.” He scratches his hair, looking effortless as he ever does, and you roll your eyes. “She is… who she is. Forgive me for using a descriptive word, Spider-Woman.”
“I get it.” You hold Mayday as she squeals at the sight of Hobie, and she motions in an uppy-uppy motion. She wants to be held by him, but he ignores her.
You never quite know how to feel about Hobie Brown. The Amazing Spider-Punk is revolutionary, known for being better than just his words– he holds himself to the very essence of anarchy. He practices what he preaches.
But you can’t quite get a read on the guy. You don’t know if he’s pulling your leg– or taking the piss as he would say– when he gives his bouts of advice while somehow simply being amazing through it all. He somehow knows what to say but he also isn’t the most comforting, and that in itself makes you drawn to him. He just happens to be kind of rough around the edges, and it’s because of that you know he truly means what he says. 
No sugar-coating, ever.
But you hate yourself, because you’ve somehow managed to fall for him. 
It’s not uncommon for Spideys to fall for each other. Peter Parker and Cindy Moon, Miles Morales and Gwen Stacy. But you know this is the one time it just wouldn’t end well for you.
You can already hear Hobie’s comments if he ever found out. He’d probably rebuke you even though you’d never try anything. Tell you he doesn’t feel that way and you’re delusional for potentially thinking that he would ever tie himself down. Spiders are meant to be swinging free and all that.
Even worse, he just happens to be beautiful. You’re positive that if Hobie wasn’t so anti-everything he would have stuck with being a runway model. His face is molded in a distinctive way that has you trying to catch his glance, even if he only looks at you with nonchalance, completely unbothered, not a hint of chemistry in his eyes.
It is with great displeasure that you find yourself wanting his bored attention anyways.
And so you’ve been swallowing your crush for the greater part of a year now. You’re sure it will pass like all things do.
Pavitr, as much as you love him, has told you many times about the “chemistry” between you and Hobie– and you have told him every time to fuck off. Not in an actual harsh way, because again you can’t help but love the guy, but because you don’t need false hope.
You’re just Spider-Woman. Another red-and-yellow suited variant of Jessica Drew, you might as well just be another Peter Parker. You know that’s not how you’re supposed to think of yourself, but it’s just how it is. Canon events brought you here, and according to Miguel, it’s not something you chose– you just happened to be there at the right time and place. You’re no Jess, who comes in on her motorcycle, raging heat and excitement on her toes– you are one of the many, instead of being exceptional like the few.
You’re not like Hobie, who is as far as you know, one of a kind.
“What’s on your mind, Spider-Woman?” Hobie asks as he picks through random tech on the desk in Miguel’s lab, taking what he feels is useful for whatever it is he does with the stuff. He’s never used your name, because he doesn’t know it.
You and a few other Spider-People have chosen to stay anonymous, for different reasons, and only Miguel and Margo know who you really are. Hobie has told you before that that’s pretty cool– he only chose to give up his name because it was easier to get along with people that way. Hobie knows there’s power in people.
“Just babysitting. Obviously.” You motion to Mayday, who takes this moment to thwip out a web and swing away from you– but you’re faster and you grab her back into your arms, and she pouts.
“Nah, nah. I mean that sour expression upon your lovely little visage, imbecile.” He pokes your masked cheek, and you find yourself blushing but pulling away from him. Hobie is like that– overly familiar and no real sense of space because he doesn’t care.
“It’s not lovely.” You retort, fully convinced of it because he has never seen your face, only your incredulous expression through the eyes of your mask. 
You think that Hobie is again being sarcastic about your unknown appearance, and because his back is facing yours as he searches through random shelves now, you don’t catch how his face frowns at your response.
“Disagreements about your anonymous-but-surely beautiful face aside– not that looks matter, mind you– you’re clearly miffed about something.” Hobie turns and crosses his arms, and it’s with a little embarrassment and comfort that you want his advice. Even if it’s kind of to do with him.
“Well, I guess, uh… lately I’ve just been feeling kind of down. Like what’s the point of all this?” You bite your lip, knowing Hobie’s feelings on nihilism. “I don’t mean like nothing in life matters, Hobie. I mean more that I don’t matt– I don’t… anyways, I feel useless. I don’t have anything special about me, I don’t really bring anything to the Spider-Society that wasn’t already brought.”
"Whoa whoa whoa. Nah, lady, you've got your priorities all twisted." Hobie pulls your arms, bringing you kind of closer to him, and rests his hands on your shoulders, making you listen. "This inner hatred stuff– that sick urge to feel shame and then blast it inside of yourself, all that repression, yeah? It's a crock of shit."
"Huh?" You and Mayday both peer up at him. You behind your mask, and she with her crocheted one. 
Hobie picks up Mayday, finally giving into her wishes to be held by him, and she immediately giggles. There’s a subtle smile on his face that warms him to you a little.
"It might feel good in the moment. It might even feel revolutionary." Hobie scowls, and scratches his jaw. "It's worthless. Notice, Spider, I didn't call you worthless. The very action is garbage, a visceral thing that brings no productive value– that's what they want you to feel."
"Ah, because then I'll never fight against the establishment, right, Hobie? I'll be too busy fighting myself." You say mockingly, taking on a fake-pretentious-Cockney accent, mimicking him, but Hobie gives you a chill look and nods.
"Now you're getting it."
"Aw." You slump and slouch and sit on the counter full of gadgets and gizmos next to him. "I know you're right, but… don't you ever get people getting mad at you?"
"You've lost me."
"Like… being so responsible." You roll your eyes as Hobie snickers and whispers the spider-mantra you all know so well. "Or just living by your own ideology so… efficiently. It's almost like a slap in the face to the rest of us Spiders. We don’t know how to cope, and here comes along Spider-Punk with all his personal assurance that even if things aren't alright, he'll make it alright for himself."
"Oi, trust me, it wasn't all that easy." Hobie sniffs and sits down next to you, holding Mayday close and then letting her go as she crawls onto the wall in front of you. "You really think I haven't had a bad day? I haven’t had my moments of self doubt, huh?”
“Uh… well. When you put it like that, it does sound kind of crazy.” You admit, and nudge him with your shoulder. “I didn’t mean any harm, Hobie. I just feel so… inadequate.”
“Just stop.” He crosses his arms and closes his eyes, and you feel that yet again, he’s somewhat unreadable. “Don’t think those things. You’re not inadequate.”
“But I–”
“Stop.” He grasps your hands, and squeezes them tightly in his own, and you wonder if Hobie has ever looked this seriously at you, his eyes soft yet firm with affection.
You’re in trouble, you think. Your heart is pounding and you’re really glad he can’t see your face.
“I don’t think you know how important you are.” He utters so quietly, in that very deep voice that has you leaning in to hear him better. “You’re not nothing, Spider-Woman. You’ve done a lot of good for your Earth-257, I’m sure, and that makes you something special. Like the rest of us– you’re kind of irreplaceable, right?”
“I guess.”
“Not ‘I guess.’” Hobie punches the side of your arm and you pretend to say ow, laughing a little. “If you didn’t exist, we’d all be poorer for it. Peter couldn’t ask you to chill with his baby, and I couldn’t be here talking your ear off.”
“But I’m not– I don’t really compare to her, you know?” You say without thinking, and then immediately squint at your own stupidity. 
“Who’s her?” Hobie is wary of how your expression is shifting. “Stacy?”
“Uh, no.” You inhale, exhale, and then decide it’s time to get it over with. “Jess.”
“Jess? Jessica Drew, huh?” Hobie smirks a little. “You don’t want to be adopted by her, do you?”
“More complicated than Gwen’s weird fantasy.” You shift on your spot on the counter, and pull off your mask after a minute of tribulations. “I’m… also Jessica Drew.”
You feel incredibly shy as Hobie takes in your face, wary of his every move as you feel yourself sweating, and he grasps your face gently, peering into your eyes and taking a look at your features, as if he’s really trying to remember them.  
“Huh.”
“What is it?” You say a little too defensively, and he shrugs. 
“You do have a lovely visage, you silly little sod. Even if it’s completely different from Jess’ face.” He laughs as you shove him away, covering your face in your hands. “No, don’t do that.”
He’s tracing your jaw, and he murmurs. “Maybe you could use a few piercings… a tat or two… ever thought about it?”
“No.” You shut your eyes. “I’m not cool like you.”
“Oh, shut it.” He leans in imperceptibly closer, and you blink, eyes open. Maybe Pavitr had a point that Hobie and you have something, because there’s not really another explanation for that look in his eyes. “You’re plenty cool, Jessica Drew. It was just a shit suggestion of mine.”
You think Hobart “Hobie” Brown is sweeter than you previously thought. You have half a mind to tell him about your feelings.
You and Hobie both look up, Spider-Senses tingling, and sure enough, Mayday is cooing from the ceiling– she leaps into your already waiting arms. She giggles at your expression.
Oh well, you think. There’ll be some other time to work up the courage to tell him.
Hobie half-smirks at her. “Way to interrupt us, Mayday.”
She looks at him all confused, tilting her head in a “huh?” motion, and you feel the same way, not entirely sure what Hobie meant by that and not willing to assume either.
He answers you by pulling your face in a sudden, swift motion, connecting his lips to yours, and in between the two of you, Mayday shrieks and laughs. She crawls off to the side of you, no longer smothered between your torsos.
Hobie is weirdly insistent– you feel like he’s been wanting to do this for a while, maybe longer than the length of your conversation (you don’t know if this is just a funny little fling for him, but you’re fairly sure it isn’t) and he’s a lot taller and lankier than you, so he really has to tower over you to reach your mouth better. He’s grasping your jaw and neck and the back of your head with a lot of intensity– you feel wildly dizzy when he pulls away.
“Uh.” Peter B. Parker is standing in front of you both, mouth wide open, and you look back at Hobie and he grins rather coolly, not really giving a damn. It’s enough to make you snort. “Wait, who are you?”
“Oh. Spider-Woman from Earth 257.” You remember Peter has never seen your face, either. “Jessica Drew?”
“Right, right.” Peter raises his hands in a whoop-de-doo motion, like he should’ve known that. “Nice to know what you look like behind the mask. Not nice to know that you’ve been avoiding your babysitting duties. Why are you two fooling around like prepubescent children? What happened to responsibility?”
“Ahhhhh, please, Peter. Live a little.” Hobie stands up, his full length of height drawing him to about the same height as Peter if not an inch taller. He picks up Mayday and hands her off to him. “Let’s not act as if you and MJ weren’t shacking up in the sleeping pods last week, yeah? Does Miguel need to know about how irresponsible you were?”
You think he’s kidding, but Peter pales and you clap your hands over your mouth, trying not to laugh. Miguel would absolutely throw a fit if he found that out.
“Uh…” Peter swallows. “At least that’s not an interdimensional tragedy-in-the-making like you two.”
“There’s no rules against that, I don’t think.” Hobie shrugs. “And if there are, fuck them. Miguel doesn’t know it all.”
“He really is punk to the very end.” Peter groans and leaves out to the hallway with Mayday. 
Hobie flashes a smile at you as he sits back down, ruffling your hair.
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snowsinterlude · 4 months
Text
how to tame a brat. (incel coriolanus x reader)
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summary: where coriolanus snow plan to tame you backfired terribly, but at least those sweatpants served to get him fucked.
based on this!!
c.w: incel submissive!coryo, dom (implied) fem!reader, masturbating (male recieving), degrading (misogynistic phrases and coryo being a little bitch <3), incel boyfriend, misoginy, p in v
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your sweet and pretty boyfriend, coriolanus snow, was the biggest misogynistic bitch you knew. which was a shame, he's so pretty it's embarassing to hear the ugly things he has to say about you.
then, scrolling through his phone, he saw a trend- well, not exactly a trend, but more like... a video of a blonde girl, saying how weak she felt when she saw her boyfriend wearing grey sweatpants and etc. and then there was another video of a movie, a woman writing 'whore' on the mirror with her lipstick while the legend said something like 'me when i notice myself looking down his pants when he's wearing grey sweatpants', and of course, all the sluts on the comment section agreed, saying that all of them agreed with the video, calling themselves whores and etc. and what is best than to go and tame the beast you were following the videos description?
so now, wearing a pair of grey sweatpants and a black compression shirt, he entered your room, only to be find by your giggling smile as you laid eyes on his pants.
"what's the occasion for you to be wearing such revealing clothes?" you asked, giggling as you called him over to bed.
"decided to try something different"
"because..?"
"because i'm trying to see if i can tame a bitch with a dick" he said, looking down on you as he standed next to your bed.
you arched your brow, your smile getting wider as you giggled to him, your laugh getting louder until the moment he got on top of you.
"what's that for, coryo? the only bitch i know here is you, baby" you said, hands travelling to his stomach and fingers travelling up and down his defined waist. "you're always so eager, aren't you, baby?"
your voice echoed through his senses as he grinded on you, your legs wrapping around his waist because of his hands as you talked to him as one talk to a dog, baby voice and everything.
"have i been a bad girlfriend?" you pouted, making fun of his face while your hand runned through his hair like he was a pet and he growled at you.
"stop being a slut and just take it like all those other bitches do"
"what other bitches? you were a virgin before me, baby" you kissed his lips, changing positions.
and that was when it hit him. he couldn't tame you. you were always the one taming him. and you were right, the only bitch in this relationship was you, pretty, sweet and beautiful you. with your plump pretty lips degrading him, your sweet scent filling his senses and your degrading words going straight to his dick.
as your hand pumped his cock, he tried his best to hold in his moans, eyes welling up, all teared up as his blushing cheeks seemed to heat up from shame, your pretty pussy grinding on his cock while you're at it.
"tell me, coryo" you begin, and he looked at you, clear crystal eyes tearing up as he thrusted his hips upwards, wanting to fuck you already "how long are you going to pretend that you're not a bitch?"
"i'm not a bitch, stop it!" he said, groaning as his hand gripped on your waist.
"oh but you are, baby. you're always in heat for me, that's why you're always calling me a bitch." you said, sweet lips kissing his temple. "you can't stand the fact that your dick is always up for me, so you decide to treat me like a slut when in reality you're the one who's my slut."
"no, that's-" he cried out from pleasure at the second you teased his tip, passing it through your slick while his body squirmed, his hips thrusting upwards again. "please, y/n, just let me cum inside you"
he begged, breathless as his tears rolled down. you kissed all of them, at least, all you could kiss.
"so you're admiting you're a whore?" you teased
"no, i just- please, please, let me just enter you" he begged, lips trembling as they brushed against your boobs.
"ownt, who would know coriolanus snow would be so eager to be fucked?" you teased, finally pushing him in as you held back a moan. no matter how many times you had sex, his cock was always so big and heavy for you, throbbing and twitching inside you as you kissed his tears. "c'mon, baby, admit it."
"o-okay. okay, just please- please let me cum." he begged, pulling himself deeper inside of you, and then you were bouncing and he was grabbing your boobs, and he hated being under you, he felt like a... like a bitch.
"use your words, baby. you can do better than that." god, you were terrible. you were such a meanie to him that he couldn't stop crying on your neck, kissing, biting and sucking on your skin as you bounced more and more. "uh-uh, baby, you gotta use your words, not your teeth"
your thumb entered past his lips, making him suck on it as he cried and moaned on your thumb.
"c'mon, coryo, my beautiful snowflake," you started, riding him with love and lust. "tell me, who's the bitch in this room?"
"ngh, it's me. it's m-me" he said, all dumb and pretty to you.
"mhm, good boy. keep going. who's the slut here?"
"it's me. it's me. i'm sorry, babe. it's me" he said, moaning like a bitch as your walls gripped him, his hands grabbing your hips and keeping you still while he fucked himself into your cunt.
"good boy, good boy! god, you're so pretty when you're not throwing a tantrum baby." you said, looking at him and moaning on his lips, scratching his back. "you're the best, baby. the best bitch i've ever had."
and those words were enough for him to cum inside you, rope after rope as you came around his cock too, kissing his lips and forehead while your thumbs caressed his cheeks.
"you happy now?" you asked, his dick still buried deep inside you.
"mhm." he nodded, breathlessly.
then, after all of that and a good warm bath (that ended up with another round, this time with his mouth eating you out) you put him to change the sheets – something he claimed to be a woman chore, but was too fucked out to remember – to new ones, and then you cuddled with him while caressing his hair, his head resting on your arm.
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spiceofvy · 5 months
Text
SKZ - Reader getting hurt during Sex
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cws: gender neutral reader, nsfw, comfort, no angst, reader getting hurt, slight dom!Chan, minor mentions of blood (Minho, Felix), bottom reader (Minho, Hyunjin, Jeongin), slight dom!Changbin, Changbin underestimating his strength, slight dom!Hyunjin, mentions of bondage and shibari (Hyunjin), forgetting to check your rope (Hyunjin), reader going to the ER (Felix, but it's nothing dramatic I promise), Jeongin having a big dick
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Chan: One day he tried to do this cool movie thing where he shoves you against the wall while making out with you, completely forgetting that he needs to shield the back of your head. So you just hit the back of your head against the wall behind you, wincing in pain. It doesn't hurt too bad but still enough to push a stray tear to your eye. He is so sorry and mad at himself apologizing over and over. He will make it up to you, on his knees if you let him.
Minho: It was during one of his favorite activities, mirror sex. He pushes you against the cold surface, making you look at yourself as you are just about to come, when suddenly there is a sharp edge underneath your fingers. It's not a deep cut, just a few droplets of blood but enough for him to kinda freak out and immediately getting you a bandaid. Moving the two of you to the bed where he worships the hell out of you, treating you like you are made of glass.
Changbin: The two of you were just going at it as Changbin decides to be a little bit more dominant, holding your wrists above your head. It feels good until he suddenly grabs you just a little bit too tightly, squeezing your wrists too tight accidentally. Making you let out the tiniest whine of pain. He is shocked about the situation and immediately gets ice for you. He feels terrible and after the first pain is gone which really wasn't that bad he does need some reassurance.
Hyunjin: He definitely enjoys some artsy bondage or even Shibari. In the heat of the moment he forgets to tightness check one of the ropes and so while he fucks you, you get some slight rope burn. You quickly tell him, and he immediately unties you. In the end it's only slightly red and you aren't hurt. But he still feels terrible and the next few times he double-checks all his rope so you don't get hurt again.
Jisung: Jisung is a friend of many positions. Including many positions during one session. Always trying something new, some even including some low key acrobatic movements. Until he suddenly pushes your leg in a weird direction sending a short pinch of pain through your body. Nothing too bad but he still feels like a monster leading to the two of you only having missionary sex for some while.
Felix: Felix is a biter in bed, and it's cute honestly. He wasn't even aware of it until you once pointed out the bite marks to him. Sometimes they are on your lips, your neck or maybe even your thighs. Just some faint dark marks in your skin that heal within days. But one day while he cums he bites your shoulder a bit too hard, drawing blood. And he absolutely freaks out. He heard horror stories about how dangerous human bites can be so he immediately takes you to the ER. Where he very shyly explains to the doctors what happened.
Seungmin: When the two of you came home you couldn't get your hands off each other, messily making out, undoing each other's clothes uncaring if a button goes astray or a zipper breaks. You two were lost in the heat clawing at each other for release. You were just wiggling out of your own pants when suddenly one of your legs got stuck and you fell backwards, onto the ground. Seungmin stares at you confused before he bursts out in laughter, helping you up and carrying you to your bed.
Jeongin: I think we all know that Jeongin has a huge dick. And that he is not the most experienced out of the bunch. So one time you guys were really excited to go at it. But he still took his time prepping you, making sure you are relaxed and ready for him. Or at least so you two thought, turns out you both kinda underestimated just how big he was, and when he enters you you feel the short painful pinch of stretching too fast. Of course he slows down, worried that he could have hurt you too much. How cursed our baby is with his big dick.
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