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#it's hard to tell with stills and if i had more free time i would gif everything but like
pierregazly · 2 days
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smile kisses ꨄ oscar piastri
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oscar piastri x reader
warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, a lil steamy towards the end [751 words]
request: if possible can you do a mix of 3 and 10 from the 🫶🏻 prompt list with oscar (if not, just 10 is fine 😽) [3. SMILING during a kiss & 10. "tell me what you want, baby." in the deepest, nearly inaudible murmur]
note: this was so cute!! the prompts??? i died 🤭 this is part of my 1.5k celebration! feel free to request away!!
There wasn’t much that could be said about the way Oscar spent his mornings. He was an early riser, always had been; his breakfast’s pre-planned and pre-made for him; a routine that hadn’t seen change in years.
Until you came into his life, of cour
Oscar had, more than once, affectionately commented about how you had blown up every routine and regime he followed. He would always finish off the joke with a soft kiss and the reaffirmation that he wouldn’t have it any other way.
Winter breaks for the Australian had especially changed. While before he could’ve been found back home, enjoying the summery, hot weather of his hometown; this time around he was found wrapped around you in bed, eyes following the streaks of rainwater that littered the window and gave view to the dreariness that often overtook London this time of year.
He wouldn’t change it for anything in the world, though. Lazy mornings in bed with you on a cold, dreary day was exactly the type of change he was alright with. Especially when your body moulded against his own so perfectly.
Tracing shapes on your bare shoulder, he placed kisses against the imaginary spots after the completion of each one. A smile gracing his lips with every press of them against your skin, as small giggles erupted from inside you at every action.
It was like heaven, hearing your reaction to his ministrations, to the way he professed his love for you. He wasn’t great with words, but he knew how to make you feel loved, how to make you feel wanted.
“Having fun, Osc?”
Murmuring a soft agreement, he continued the game of bringing bumps to your skin as shivers consumed your body. A soft smile continued to grace his face, difficult to keep at bay whenever he was around you.
Tapping at the hand that was placed delicately against your stomach, you gestured for him to let you turn around to face him. Which he begrudgingly did, a mock glare directed at you before a smile broke across his lips as he traced the shape of your face with his eyes, a hand gently cupping your cheek, rubbing a thumb across the skin.
“You’re so beautiful, you know that?”
Feeling your cheeks warm at his words, you pressed your head into the junction of his neck to stifle the giggle of adoration that was bubbling out of you. The beat of his pulse was so delicate against your lips as you pressed a loving kiss to it, a smile still stretched across your features.
“And just so adorable, really,” emphasizing his words, he pressed a finger into a known ticklish spot that instantly prompted you to flinch away from him.
You were easily overpowered by him, Oscar’s body hovering over yours as his fingers dug into your sides, loud squeals of laughter left your lips. It was hard to focus on anything as you tried to maneuver your body out from underneath him, but the large smile on his lips was infectious.
“Osc… oh my god, please. Enough! No more,” you begged, using all your weight to shove him off.
Relenting, the Australian held himself up with his now unoccupied hands, looking down at you as you caught your breath.
He couldn’t help the urge to press his lips down to yours, unable to keep the smile from his face. You couldn’t express in words how much he meant to you, but the feeling of the smile pressed against your lips was really all you needed to know how much he loved you. You couldn’t resist smiling back into the kiss, your fingers weaving into the locks of his hair, trying to show the love he was giving you, right back.
The passion in his kisses, in everything he did, was wondrous. It always felt like he was trying to form every thought, every feeling, every emotion, into the connection of your lips; especially through the never-ending smiles he always had for you.
Practically mewling into his mouth as he deepened the kiss, you felt him start to press his lower body against yours, a soft groan leaving his lips.
“Tell me what you want, baby,” he murmured, his voice deepening from the arousal coursing through his system.
You couldn’t help the small whimper that was let out as you looked up at him; eyes hooded and clear with his intention, lips plump, practically begging to be kissed more.
“You, Osc. Always want you.”
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AH this isn’t as long as i would’ve liked, but i just wanted it to be tooth-rotting fluff with a lil spice of an ending. i hope you all love it, and thank you to everyone that’s been requesting and celebrating with me 🫶🏻
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moremaybank · 3 days
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okay I still cannot stop thinking about best friend jj and reader. Its mentioned her parents have body shamed her in the past and her mom makes that comment about her hips. What if it really got to her at one point and JJ is the only one who noticed. Not like a full blown eating disorder thankfully but that he noticed her skipping meals and he had to sit her down on his lap and tell her she was perfect...sorry just me thinking lol
eeek! first in between au request! thank you for the continuous love ♡︎ warnings reader skipping meals, body shaming (r's parents), bsf!jj being a sweetheart as usual [1k]
At first, it wasn’t a big deal. 
JJ was well aware that sometimes, when you were stressed, you’d forget to eat. He’d urge you to at least steal a few pieces of food off his plate (okay, maybe more than a few), and his mind would be at peace knowing that you were now fed and taken care of. 
But soon, he noticed that it became a daily thing. You’d tell him you weren’t hungry, or that you’d already eaten earlier, but then, he’d hear your stomach growling and watch you blatantly ignore it. You looked exhausted all the time, your physical strength was depleting. He’d watch you grow snappy at the smallest things, watch the way you’d pick at your food and move it around on your plate mindlessly every time you two ate together. Then, you’d dismiss his concerns with a forced smile.
After a few weeks had gone by, and your actions had remained the same, he knew something was up. He couldn’t stand to see you become a shell of who you usually were. There was no spark of wonder in your eyes. It was like all your hope had been sucked out of you. 
He also knew that your family was hard on you when it came to your body. And it sucked to admit, but at the beginning, he hadn't thought too much of it. Now, though, something was going on with his favourite girl and he was determined to get to the bottom of it. 
“Hey, you feel like goin’ to the Wreck? I'm feelin’ a seafood boil right now.”
You simply shrugged him off, your gaze remaining on the work in front of you. You’d been consumed in it all day, barely even blinking an eye in JJ’s general direction. 
“Not really hungry. I can come with you, though?”
Approaching you at your seat in front of your desk, his hands pried the pen from your hand, and he placed it down on the wooden surface. Then, he crouched down to get a better look at you.
“What’s goin’ on with you?” 
You turned away from him, scared of looking into his eyes. His tone indicated that you’d been caught. You should’ve known that he would pick up on your change in demeanour sooner or later. 
It was JJ.
Getting things past him simply was not a thing. It never was. 
Still, though, you’d make the effort even if it proved to be pointless. You weren’t sure the honesty was worth seeing the disappointment on his face. 
“Nothing. Jus’ not hungry.” 
“Y/N, I haven’t seen you eat a proper meal in two weeks.” 
“I said I'm good, J.” Your voice was bitter and sharp as you picked your pen back up, breaking free of his hold and trying to continue with your work. “If you wanna eat, go eat.”
He took the pen from your hand again, stuffing it in his pocket so you couldn’t get to it as easily. 
“You really think that by now, I don’t know when you’re actin’ up?” He held your face in his hands, ensuring that you couldn’t look away from him again. “Jus’ tell me what’s goin’ on so I can fix it.” 
“You can’t fix this, J.” 
He sighed softly, his thumbs swiping over the apples of your cheeks. “Try me.” 
You stalled for a moment. You didn’t want the judgement, You knew what he would say. 
Y/N/N, don’t listen to him. He’s a piece of shit. He has no idea what he’s talking about. 
If this was about anything else, maybe you would’ve believed him. But after hearing comments from your parents about your body for almost two decades…maybe their words had some truth to them, right? 
But when you looked into those oceanic puppy-dog eyes, it was as if he was willing the truth out of you wordlessly. Sighing, you broke free of his grasp carefully. You strolled over to your dresser, pulling your phone off of the surface and opening your messages on your way back to him. You handed him the device, the glow of your screen illuminating his face as it showed him the texts you’d received from your father earlier last week. 
You think your mother and I haven’t noticed how you’ve gotten fuller? Everything you’ve worn to our events lately has only made you look worse. A girl your age should be slimmer. We should get you on a diet, up your physical activity.”
If you don’t fix your appearance, you’re going to embarrass us in front of our colleagues. We can’t secure this deal if you’re looking plump.
I’ve had it. You shouldn’t accompany us anywhere for the next few months. Not until you get your weight under control. 
Rage bubbled deep in his core, threatening to swallow him whole. It had always puzzled him beyond belief — how your parents could look at you and see the complete opposite of what he had.
Perfection.
He tried to remain stoic. You’d never been happy when he got upset over things your parents had done in the past, and right now, when you were looking so pained, how could he make things worse?
“Y/N/N,” he said, hands bracing your shoulders. “You can’t keep doing this to yourself.” 
You couldn’t even find the courage to look up at him. You were too scared, too ashamed. You didn’t want his pity, you just wanted the voices to stop, and though you believed JJ could do anything, you weren’t sure if he could quiet that noise. 
It was too blaring. 
“You’re actin’ like there’s somethin’ to fix, but there isn’t. You’re perfect. I don’t care what your dress size is. You don’t need to be cuttin’ back. End of story.” 
“J, it’s just not that easy—”
His index finger found your lips, effectively shushing you and garnering your attention. “They’re wrong about everythin’ else, right?”
You nodded slowly. “…Yeah.” 
“So what makes ‘em right about this?” 
He got you good. He’d always had a certain way with you, and thank God he did. 
One of his hands abandoned your shoulder, finding your face instead. Blue eyes bore their soul into yours, trying to engrave how he viewed you into your brain. 
“Eat whatever the fuck you want. You’re beautiful, and you always will be.” 
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hurthermore · 8 hours
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He deserves someone to dote on him! Alastor who injuries his dominant hand and is unable to properly do basic tasks for a while, you come over and cook for him as well as feed him and he’s so embarrassed!! I mean let’s be honest last person to look after his was his mama. Doesn’t stop you, I mean you’re helping him dress, writing out his ideas for potential scripts for future broadcasts, scolding him for trying to use said arm…you kiss his fingers that stick out from his sling <3 he’s so greedy even after he heals he pretends that he still needs you’re help and you’re more than happy to oblige !
This is so cute >.< for this ask we will imagine that Alastor x Reader from Misconduct are in an AU where Vincent doesn’t exist and they’re romantically involved. Poorly written again because I wrote this at uni lmaooo warning for suggestive content, mention of murder and self harm
He didn’t mean to hurt his hand to this extent when he badgered his knife into the neck of a man who wouldn’t stop flirting with you; he tried so hard not to let his pain showcase when you were near him, even when you would thread your fingers through his, he tried so desperately to not make you aware of his pain.
But you were, fortunately, very perceptive of your lovers tells; and when you held his broken hand, you noticed the way his shoulders tensed ever so slightly.
It took a while, but you managed to get him to admit that he had hurt himself; whether he told you how depended on whether you knew about his morally malevolent habits or not.
You reprimanded him; obviously, it made you feel so inadequate that he didn’t feel as though you were a safe space for him to tell you of his pain, but you brushed your feelings aside to tend for the man you loved.
He struggled with everyday tasks you had come to figure out; hiding the pain he endured whilst attempting to complete those tasks. So you decided it was best to temporarily stay at his home, regardless of your own responsibilities; you wished to help and assist the man you planned to marry one day.
And he had agreed, rather quickly to your idea, seeming like a child excited with a new toy they had just been gifted.
You began completing every little task for him, even so far as washing his body and hair for him; you always ignored how he would get just a tad excited below the water whenever your bare hands scrubbed his skin clean.
He always held an arm around you as you cooked and washed his dishes for him, forcing you to always become flushed as he only spoke words of endearment into your ear whilst stroking your waist with his free hand.
Whenever he would try to help you, or give you physical affection through his broken hand, you would again, reprimend him. Scolding him like a child before you would inevitably apologise, stating you only wished for him to get better.
And when you laid in his bed, no matter what the two of you were doing during that time, you would place kisses along his broken hand, telling him of how much you loved him, how much you cared about him; how much he meant to you.
He basked in it, loved everything his broken hand had brought him; how it had brought you even closer to him, basically moving you into his home whilst you played the part of his little housewife.
A wife he would make you.
And as the weeks passed by, and his hand ultimately began to heal; he would, to simply have you always with him, break it. Purposefully.
He won’t tell you that though.
He just wants you near him.
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blarshwritezz · 1 day
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Yanderr mafia boss x male reader prisoner, You are a rival of the mafia boss and your group was defeated by his group, thus becoming his prisoner.
Little did you know, he had lust for you and he decides that you will succumb to his desires whether you want to or not.
A new mafia boss coming right up! But no more new mafia bosses after this, guys. I know they're hot, but my masterlist will suffer also, changing it to leader to avoid confusion hope that's okay
Yandere Mafia Leader x Prisoner Reader
M yan x M reader
TW - general yandere behavior, NSFW, noncon
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How long has it been? For how many days have you been held captive here? You couldn't keep track. There weren't any windows or other ways to tell time in your damp cell.
You had to wonder if your comrades were doing alright. You weren't too close to most of them, but you were still worried. You hoped whatever they were going through wasn't much worse than what you were.
The leader of this mafia kept a constant watch on you. There was a single camera in your cell, which really wasn't strange, but you could often hear him right outside your door. He'd often come in and watch you "sleeping".
That was one of the more difficult things to do here; fall asleep. You really didn't struggle this much usually, but between the environment and the whole being watched thing, it wasn't easy.
You hoped you might finally get some rest tonight. Or...whatever time of day it was when you closed your eyes.
Your dreams almost came true...until they were crushed by the fact that you felt something choking you. You opened your eyes, taking only a few seconds to realize what was happening.
The leader was in here again, fucking your mouth! You tried to pull away, but he only gripped your hair and forced himself deeper down your throat.
He groaned as you gagged around his dick. It was almost enough to make him cum.
Oh who was he kidding? He didn't want to hold back. Not this time. With a few more thrusts, his seed was flowing down your throat.
He took both of your wrists in his hand as he pulled out, holding them tightly above your head. His free hand mover to roughly spread your legs apart.
"You're my new fuck toy, got that?" Without warning or preparation, he plunged into your ass with a pleasured groan. "I'll stop torturing you, long as you please me."
You didn't have a choice.
He was fucking you anyway, no care for how rough he was being. In fact, he seemed to like seeing you slightly in pain.
You couldn't get away, his grip on you was too tight. He smirked as you struggled, even though it was useless.
"Stop struggling so much or I'll just have to kill you, and fucking a corpse doesn't sound nearly as appealing."
He leaned down and started biting your neck, licking the blood clean as he did. He made sure the marks would be visible. You were his, everyone should know.
Despite knowing you shouldn't enjoy this, you couldn't stop the moans you made. You couldn't stop your cock from growing hard, twitching as it came closer to climax.
Finally, he slowed down, making you whine pathetically. "You want to cum? Think you deserve it? You just have to tell me you'll be mine. That your body belongs to me." He growled in your ear.
You couldn't! You refused, shaking your head.
"If you say so." He chuckled, pounding into you harder than before. Only to stop right as you were on the edge again.
And that became a cycle. He fucked you hard and stopped over and over until you were a whimpering mess beneath him. And of course, he couldn't be fair. While he denied you the right to cum over and over, he repeatedly filled your asshole with his seed. Over and over again until your insides were painted fully white.
All until you begged him for release. Saying anything for him to let you cum. Even that you and your body belonged to him.
"There's a good boy..." His hands released your now bruised legs and wrists, one moving to your nipple as the other made its way to your ass. In one swift motion, he pulled out and replaced his cock with his fingers. They curled in you, hitting all the right spots.
As his hands worked wonders on you, he took your cock unto his mouth and sucked you off. Pathetic as it was, it didn't take very long before you came. He moaned, the sound vibrating around your cock as he swallowed your cum.
"There we go. Not so difficult, right? And you get to cum like that whenever I want for the rest of your life~"
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I think that one was pretty decent! or at least, I really hope so
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hoonieshoney · 2 days
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"he'll tell at her more to see her sob" PLEASE write a dacryphilia smut drabble on this i beg
Come here nonnie, lemme just 😗🧠
I hope this is what you were looking for 🥹
Another canon small smut drabble in the I Beg, Save Me universe! This would take place the day after the ahem altar scene. Not proofread!
🚫SMUT🚫MDNI🚫
🚫DARK CONTENT🚫NONCON/DUBCON🚫
🚫DACRYPHILIA🚫
"O-Ow..Heeseung..I'm still too sore from yesterday..it hurts..I can't"
You laid flat on Heeseung's bed, both fully nude, you spent the last half hour with his tongue in your mouth. Rubbing your hands all over each other. He tried slipping one of his thick fingers inside of your cunt but the immediate intrusion had you whining and immediately pushing him off of you, the pain still present from yesterday’s events.
He sat on his knees and slowly blinked, his bambi like eyes quickly turned dark and brooding, like a shark in water stalking its next meal.
“That’s really fucking adorable angel..” He smiles, but there was no amusement behind it.
“What is?” 
“That you think you have a choice.”
Before you could open your mouth to protest he was on top of you, grabbing both of your wrists in his large hand and pinning them above your head.
“Am I scaring you, angel?” He’s still smiling watching your panicked expression, his eyes twinkle watching the tears line your waterline. 
“Yes..”
“Hmm..don’t be, angel. It’ll only hurt for a little bit. Are you going to be a good girl for me?”
“No! Hee-Heeseing this isn't funny! Get off of me!” You struggle against his restraint on you but he just smirks. “If you keep acting up. You’ll regret it, angel.” 
You squirm again and he rolls his eyes in annoyance. Fine, have it your way angel.
“I said STOP!”
The boom of his voice made you freeze instantly. You had never seen this side of him before. His eyes were narrow and dark as he watches your scared face and sees the full glaze of tears start to form in your pretty eyes. The sight going straight to his cock.
Oh, angel. You have no idea what you’re doing to me.
Your tear brimmed eyes stare at him silently pleading him to stop. He opens your legs and positions himself at your sore entrance, and he slides in with ease. Thankfully the make out session had you just wet enough for him to slide in. His eyes widen slightly as he enters you slowly, inch by inch, feeling you clench hard around his cock. A high pitched whine leaves your parted lips at the unbearable pain you feel at him stretching your already sore hole. He sheathes himself inside you to the hilt in one go. Your legs kick and shake around him, his hand still keeping a firm grip around your wrists.
The wail that leaves your throat is loud, a few tears finally fall down your red cheeks.   
A sickening smile etches on his face at watching you shake and cry under him, you were hoping the tears that you were spilling would be enough to make him realize he was hurting you but he only picked up his pace and rocked harder against you causing you to scream out louder, hearing your pained sounds only made him enjoy your pain that much more. 
Using his free hand he grabs your leg and throws it over his shoulder, making him go even deeper inside of you. You could feel the mushroom tip of his head hitting your cervix with each forceful thrust. You hate that you can feel yourself becoming wetter with each of his harsh thrusts, the pain was still excruciating but it was becoming laced with pleasure. 
His cock was hitting the right angles inside of you, it was stroking that deep spot deliciously, it was overshadowing the assault he was doing on your cervix and the bruising of your walls around him. Your hips started to instinctively move and grind against him every time he bottomed out in your sore pussy. 
This shouldn’t feel so good.
“You feel so good, angel.” He grunts watching you become a sobbing incoherent mess underneath him. You were repeatedly crying out his name with hot tears running down your face, adding to the mess of sweat and red cheeks. You weren’t sure if you were crying from the pain or from the pleasure anymore. 
You start to feel like you’re in a floaty head space, dark spots clouding your vision as you struggle to breathe from the pain and all of the crying, the familiar sensation of your orgasm is nearing. He can feel it too, he finally lets go of your wrists and grips your waist hard. The bruises from yesterday present, he grips the bruised flesh harshly and pulls the lower half of your body harder against him, meeting each of his thrusts, he’s using you like his own personal fleshlight. 
There's no oxygen left in your body for you to make a sound when your orgasm finally hits you like a freight train, your entire body convulses at the overwhelming sensation. You can only throw your head back with your mouth open and drooling.That sent him over the edge.The sight of the sweat, tears, and drool coating your face and neck had his eyes rolling to the back of his head. With a loud grunt he threw his head back as his hips stuttered against you and let his hot cum fill you to the brim.
He pants heavily as he comes down from his high, watching your fucked out body under him. A sinister grin stretches his lips looking at the hazy look in your eyes. He fucked you so hard he sent you into subspace. He grabs your cheeks with one hand squishing the wet flesh between his fingers, “didn’t that feel good, angel?”
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pelova4president · 1 day
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Focus II
Salma Paralluelo x Reader
focus I
summary~ You move on, she doesn’t. spoiler, you don’t really move on.
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your new normal was everything but fulfilling. This pointlessness cycle of living was eating you alive.
Driving to training, kicking a ball for a few hours and eating with teammates that didn’t even trust you with the ball. You didn’t have a place in the starting line-up anymore and everyone ignored you. You were becoming invisible, a nobody.
Days were especially hard when you were free. You didn’t go outside and no one was contacting you. You felt loneliness on a whole new level. When you had broken up with Salma, there were still people around you but now you’d scared them off. They didn’t know what to do with you anymore.
Real Madrid has been your home for far too long, and somewhere you knew that. Deep down knew you needed an extreme change. But you held on to this ideal idea with a firm grip.
Real Madrid wasn’t your home anymore. It hasn’t been for a long time now. And the team made that clear when they sat you down.
“Look, we just think you need a different challenge, a fresh start.” Olga said, a warm smile on her lips. “It’ll be better for you.” Misa rubbed your back soothingly.
You rolled you eyes at that and scoffed. “It’ll be better for us all.” Misa corrected herself this time. You heard agreement across the room. Clearly they had wanted this for a while now.
You were already out of their lives in their heads, they just needed you completely gone. Out of sight out of mind.
So you moved, it wasn’t like you had a choice in this. Man City was running low on defenders and payed the biggest transfer fee. From your sunny Spain to the rainy Manchester weather.
Stepping out of that warm sticky plane you felt your warm sweat turning your heated body cold. Refreshing. You needed to see this new chapter as a new beginning, another chance.
When Salma heard you left Real she was puzzled. No way you would’ve left your dream club just like that, with no fight. And what she had expected was confirmed.
The striker heard Lucy and Ona talk about the transfer. “Why did she leave? She loved Real with her whole heart, that was her home.” Lucy asked.
Ona sighed, “We all know it wasn’t going her way there, she was stuck. I think she might’ve just left because there wasn’t anyone to keep her here anymore, in Spain.” she explained.
It was silent for a moment before Lucy spoke again. “She was head over heals for her, wasn’t she.”
“I know, she still is. I spoke to Olga earlier, she said that she just wasn’t functioning anymore. She had to leave Spain.” the Spaniard said quietly.
Salma wasn’t aware of this. Why would you break up with her if you still loved her?
She wanted to talk to you. Tell you that she had wanted to keep your relationship more private, out of the spotlights. That she wanted you just for herself. But then you cut her off, you told her it was over. That you were done.
The days in Manchester went by just the same. It was hard and tough. Atleast you knew your team back in Spain, you barely know anyone here.
Salma kept being on your mind, it was hard to forget her. How could anyone forget her. She had a sparkle you hadn’t seen in anyone before. She lit up any room when she walked in and brought out the best in you.
So instead of hurting and torturing yourself any more you focused. Your mind was set. Football was it. Manchester City had an amazing season and you were ready to destroy the Champions League. This was your year.
And you held yourself onto that. You got through the groupstages. Ajax, Wolfsburg and Juventus were all beaten.
The first leg of the Quarter-Finals away had ended up in a 1-2 for your team. And at home you won with 3-0 against Bayern.
This meant a Semi Final against the prize holders, FC Barcelona Femení.
And somehow Salma was still wondering through your mind. She was still there and you were giving up on forgetting her, so you ignored her. Every single sign of her.
Salma wasn’t though. She had you in her mind for the last few weeks. The striker wanted to know what was going on. Why did you leave her. What did you see. What did you think. She just wanted to know.
Salma knew you weren’t going to answer if she called, so she didn’t. She wanted you to see her, to hear her.
That’s how you found her, drenched infront of your doorstep. A cocky smirk finding it’s place on her face.
“Couldn’t you just move to a warmer country.” she laughed.
The smile you had on before you opened the door had dropped. “Or just don’t go to England.” you said, tone flat. When Salma didn’t respond you sighed and rolled your eyes. “Well, see you tomorrow i guess.” you told her before closing your door.
“-wait. Mi amor, wait.” Salma reacted.
“Don’t call me ‘mi amor’. I’m not your love, Ona is.” you said coldly.
Salma’s face fell. “Wait.. what- she isn’t.” Your eyebrows furrowed at that. “Ona isn’t my girlfriend. Where did you hear th- no..” your lovers face was puzzled, she was thinking. “Mi vida, is that why you broke this off. You thought i cheated on you?” she asked you with a broken voice.
“Salma, it was all over the news. You texted me, you wanted to break up.” you told her.
“Amor i didn’t want to break up. I just wanted you. I wanted to keep our relationship out of the spotlight, to keep it to ourselves. I just wanted you.” Her voice had completely broken down to a soft whisper. “I wanted you just to myself.” she stepped towards you.
“Salma, i- i don’t know.” you sighed.
“Please, i just want to see you.” Salma breathed.
You let her in. There wasn’t much you had to say to her. She said she didn’t cheat and you had to take her on her word.
Maybe it was the hope in you. Or the desperation. But you believed her. You wanted to believe her, so so badly.
And when the game came around the next day, Salma had already disappeared. The morning flew by and you were sat in the dressingroom. The music was playing through the room and there were players dancing, singing, braiding hair and drawing, whatever kept them cool.
You checked your shoes, like always. Put your hair in a bun, like normal. You walked through the tunnel, like you had done all of your games. You looked at your opponent, as usual. You were playing a game against Barcelona, against the best, against Salma, like you had done a million times.
The game was hard, honestly any game was at this level. But the feelings were your biggest concern. This didn’t end well last time.
You got your confidence back when you passed a ball to Casparij, who gave a deep one back. You made a run for goal and shot. The ball flew through the air, and even with the best efforts of Paños, it went in. In the corner of your eye you saw the ball crossing the white line.
Your teammates ran towards you and you were attacked from all sides. It was chaos and it was the most at home you’ve felt since you joined the blue club.
But the game wasn’t over, Barça wasn’t done.
Aitana made a dangerous tackle, passed to ball to Graham. Caroline was unstoppable, everyone knew it. When she dribbled past a City defender and made a cross it was over. The ball landed perfectly onto the right foot of Paralluelo and into Keating’s goal.
She celebrated like she had done many times before, but only on El Clásico’s. She kissed her wrist, for you.
“Nunca hemos terminado, mi vida.” Salma winked.
A/N my next fic will be domestic because i love little love families 🤭 who should i write for?
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erikahenningsen · 15 hours
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Regina takes up 2/3 of the bed but it works for them because Cady sleeps curled up in a little ball. Regina hates having to sleep without Cady because sometimes she has nightmares and she always feels guilty about calling Cady in the middle of the night.
Now, please do this 😔🙏, or if you could, elaborate more. I'm currently in the midst of brainrot.
#grad school universe / Angie's fic
Regina wakes up just as the bus is about to hit her, breathing hard.
For a moment, she's completely disoriented, before she realizes she's in her bed, her apartment dark and silent.
Regina presses a hand to her forehead and finds it tacky with sweat, and her throat is a bit tender. She wonders if she had been screaming in her sleep. That's happened before—and completely scared the shit out of Cady the first time.
Cady.
Instinctively, Regina reaches to Cady's side of the bed, and finds it cold and empty. Right. Cady is at her apartment in New Haven. Regina is still getting used to spending more nights apart than together. She'd never tell Cady, but she thinks the nightmares have become more frequent as a result.
Regina wants to call Cady. She needs to hear her voice. It's the only thing that slows her heart, which is still pounding inside her chest with panic. But it's the middle of the night, and Cady has class in the morning.
Regina rolls over and tries to ignore it, to will herself back to sleep—or at least into a calmer state. But every time she closes her eyes, all she sees is Cady staring at her with horror as the bus plows into her body. Sometimes, in the dreams, the bus hits Cady instead. Those are the worst ones.
After a couple of minutes of trying to relax by sheer force of will, Regina tries deep breathing. She tries listening to some calming music. She even tries a free meditation video on YouTube, even though she thinks it's stupid. But she doesn't feel even a little bit better.
Before she can overthink it, she taps on Cady's contact and holds her breath as the phone rings.
Just as Regina thinks the call is going to time out, Cady picks up. The screen is dark, but Regina can make out part of Cady's face on the screen.
"Regina?" Cady mumbles sleepily. She squints against the light of her phone. "You okay?"
"Hi, baby," Regina whispers. She feels guilt flare in her stomach at Cady's sleepy face, but she already feels less like she's having a heart attack.
Cady runs a hand down her face. "Did you have a bad dream?" she asks.
Regina cringes a little at the wording—it makes it sound like she's four years old—but now is not the time.
"Yeah," Regina says. "I just needed to see you."
Cady makes a vague gesture that might be a wave. "Here I am."
"And so beautiful, as always," Regina says. She's always found it quite unfair how Cady looks gorgeous all the time, even in the middle of the night.
"I love you," Cady says, with so much affection that Regina physically aches to be with her. "I'm glad you're alive."
"Me, too," Regina says. "Most of the time."
Cady makes a displeased noise, and Regina knows if it weren't the middle of the night and they weren't in separate states Cady would insist on having A Conversation about the most of the time part.
For a few moments, Regina just looks at Cady's face. Well, more like half of her face. At a weird angle. But her breathing has returned almost to normal, and she isn't trembling anymore.
"I'm gonna fall asleep," Cady admits, eyelids drooping, "but I'll leave my phone on."
"Good night," Regina says. "I love you."
Cady kisses the tips of her fingers and taps them against the screen as her eyes close.
It'll have to do, for now.
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seancekitsch · 1 day
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Can we have more Vox and Assistant! Reader? Maybe based on the headcanon you had involving Val?
i think im gonna make this a little series hehehe
warnings: rough smut, dom vox, aphrodisiacs, val getting cucked, sort of unethical power dynamics, bondage, etc
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“More toys for us, Big Vee?” you ask, scooting further back from the edge of Vox’s bed as you make room for the box Val sets down, tucking your legs under you as you do. 
Vox scowls in your direction as he slides his suspenders down his shoulders.
“Don’t call him that,” he tells you, only to be met by your smirk. Despite his clear annoyance, Vox still takes the time to scan his eyes up and down your body, already delightfully wrapped in blue and red lingerie he had Velvette design just for you. You meet his gaze in a challenge.
“Why not? He’s taller than you. Big Vee.”
You know you’re playing with fire here, between your teasing and the absolutely shit eating grin you can see on Valentino’s face from the corner of your vision. Valentino laughs as Vox’s screen twitches in anger. This is all part of your game, though. Push Vox too hard and… well, he’s gonna go ballistic on you. Your grin only grows as your boss seethes next to the box and his business partner. 
“Careful, Princesa,” the taller Vee warns, picking through the box before he pulls out a set of what look like handcuffs on a leash and a bottle with no label, “Daddy doesn’t like brats.”
Vox snatches the handcuffs from Valentino, his free hand held out and waiting. Without protest, you offer both of your wrists to him while you smile up at him sweetly. He’s right, Vox doesn’t like brats; which is why you’re usually not this bold, but Vox worked you hard today and you like to play with him. 
Vox works diligently in fastening the restraints around your wrists, careful not to have them too tight around you. He’s learned the hard way, with one of your first trysts ending with him rubbing cream into your torn up wrists in the bathroom through begging apologies. Vox likes his toys, Vox keeps extremely good care of them. H gives a testing tug, his eyes flickering to you for confirmation. It’s moments like this where you see a glimmer of hope in Vox, like maybe he has a heart, maybe he’s a good man. You let out a breathy laugh as you nod your confirmation to him. They’re just right, and you remind yourself that both you and he are in Hell for very serious reasons. You don’t get where you are currently without a reason. 
“Okay, baby?” he whispers, too sweetly. Your smile widens, knowing that this is a ruse. He’s going to fucking wreck you, you just need to let him pretend he isn’t. 
Roughly, Vox pushes you over by the shoulder, forcing you onto your hands and knees on the duvet. He throws the other end of the restraints at Valentino, now sat in the chair pulled up to the end of the bed. 
“Yank on it if it looks like she’s having too much fun, yeah?” Vox instructs, a cool professional tone crackling in the static of his voice. Now that the restraint is more taut, it resembles a Y-shape, with one set of Val’s hands curling around the far loop. It would work well for being hung from the ceiling, or wrapped up around the bedpost. Vox could have you pinned to the wall in his office with this, bound and waiting for him, ready to be used and -
You’re literally pulled out of your thoughts by Val testing the waters, not enough to knock you off of your hands, but enough to make you wobble. Val’s grin turns hungry, vicious even. 
You turn your head quickly from Val’s gaze, something clinical and nerve wracking under it. You’re testing product for him, but somehow any physical reaction of feedback feels embarrassing. Vox has settled behind you, his clothes shed and an unlabeled bottle in his hand. 
“Whatcha got there, Sir?” you ask, even though you can guess. 
“Topical version of Val’s little love potion,” he focuses on his hands, not meeting your gaze, “just apply where you want sensations to increase.”
He continues looking down as he tosses the bottle on his nightstand and rubs the lube between his fingers, mechanical movements as he then takes a claw to the gusset of your lingerie, ripping it away easily before rubbing it in against your sex. His fingers move between your folds, warm liquid mixing with your own wetness. He speeds up his movements, fingers sliding faster against you as your wetness builds, every once in a while his fingers graze your clit to make you twitch. 
As Vox’s fingers move, you’re met with a rising feeling of heat, heat everywhere, and every spot he hits, every graze of his claws sends electric shocks through your veins. Exactly like when Vox shocks you, but without him having to actually do it. 
Vox has barely done anything, and yet you’re already a gasping mess in front of him.
Finally he meets your gaze, a smug smirk across his screen as his free hand starts to work the lube onto his cock, the edges of his screen twitching and emitting static as he works himself. You can feel how ready you are for him, practically dripping already. You bet he’ll slide right into you, and tell you what a good slut you are for him.
You throw your head back, ready for him; to fuck you, to grab at you, to manhandle you like the prized possession you are. 
Except the familiar stretch of his cock never comes. You shiver with anticipation, body clenching around nothing, wetness growing cold in the space between your bodies. 
“Do you think you deserve his cock?” Valentino asks, teasing you again with that smile. Valentino has unlaced his shorts, palming his member through the loosened leather with one of the hands not holding your restraint. Of course, he’s going to get something out of this too.
“Uh huh,” you respond with a dazed nod, mind already hazy and chasing a high. 
“Look at her, the brat’s already fucked stupid and she hasn’t even been fucked,” Vox teases, but his voice sounds strained as well. He’s one to talk, you think. 
His hands return to you, this time to spread your ass cheeks, baring you to him fully. You’re sure he can see how pathetic you probably look, wet and clenching for him and fully on display. 
And then your arms buckle, threatening to collapse you, as the heightened but familiar feeling of that long tongue of his makes contact with your clit. Vox shoves his entire screen against you, tongue teasing and weakening you.
 “You don’t deserve my cock until you can prove you’re my good little assistant, until you’re obeying me,” Vox growls between hungry licks to your folds. 
“You’re gonna come on what he gives you,” Val taunts, and you really wish you could fuck up his last good antenna. It’s not that you hate your boss’ business partner, but he’s being a real dickhead right now. 
Vox’s tongue assaults your cunt, sliding across your folds, right along the edges, prodding against your clit, but never plunging within you. Its torture. Each time the tip of his tongue makes contact with your clit is like a live wire, jolting you and pulling loud whining gasps from your lips. Vox moans against your cunt, openmouthed and unashamed.
His tongue oscillates, moving from side to side over the bundle of nerves without letting up, without mercy. He switches from left to right to up to down, every time you think you’re getting used to it, or hitting a rhythm, he changes it. It’s almost edging, the way Vox is keeping you teetering along the edge, keeping you right on the finish line without crossing it. Vox’s claws dig into your thigh, another loud moan fanning out against you. 
And then suddenly the sam breaks, and a high pitched whine tears from your throat, and Vox pulls away to admire his handiwork. You’re sure you can picture his face, you think between shuddering moans, all smug and confident. Vox at his hottest. Shakes rock your frame, as if Vox had actually electrocuted you. 
But instead of the soothing motions of his palms along your back, none of that comfort comes. 
Pain radiates through your ass, a harsh spank to it rocking you out of your orgasm stupor. 
Another spank follows it.
And another. 
Another. 
You’re sure it’s going to bruise, though you don’t care. Soon, it’ll be just another mark Vox has left on you. 
So you close your eyes and take it. 
Five. 
Six. 
Switch ass cheeks. 
Seven.
Your eyes are drawn open from the onslaught of the spanks by a weaker slap against your cheek. Opening your eyes you see Val, one hand on your restraint, one hand reached out to slap you again, and a third on his cock, now out and fully hard. 
Vox stops. 
“Hey,” he snaps at Valentino, “Don’t touch what’s mine.”
Valentino scoffs, and rolls his eyes. Vox presses his palms against the spots where he’s spanked you. 
“Well can she at least help me out?” he asks, clearly annoyed. 
“If she wants to,” Vox’s voice is cool and collected, rare for Vox’s usual temper. 
Valentino holds out his gloved hand, and you graciously spit into it, before watching him wrap that hand around his cock and begin to stroke it slow and lazy. 
You turn to look behind you again, Vox’s screen aglow with your wetness glistening across it, his own spit trailing from the corner of his mouth. He looks as fucked up as you’re certain you do, needy and wild. 
“Ready, Doll?” Vox asks, as sweet as he could possibly be. Any pretense about your brattiness forgotten, any game you were playing dropped. 
You wiggle your ass at him, and he chuckles, soft. 
“I cannot wait to be fucking buried in you,” he thrusts against you, tip bumping you and making your composure falter.
“Then fuck me,” you bit back, winking at him.
“Careful what you wish for,” he warns, and pushes himself in until his hips connect with your ass. He relaxes there for a moment, giving you a second to adjust before pulling almost entirely out, his tip catching on your folds.
He slams back in, no mercy for your well spanked ass cheeks, his hips rutting into them recklessly. Your fingers dig into the duvet, struggling to ground yourself. That electrocuted feeling is back, rising embarrassingly quick. Each time hips meet ass a squeak of a moan escapes your lips. Any fight you had in yourself is gone, as long as this feeling between you and Vox stays. You arch your back further into him, contorting yourself for pleasure and chasing your own desire.
But then the feeling of the lush duvet meets your face, and disoriented, you lose your high momentarily. Vox however, groans, loving every second of this. You look up, one set of Valentino’s hands pulling the restraint taut, the other vigorously working his shaft and balls. There’s a sinister grin on his face, obviously getting pleasure in your disorientation. Your hands stretch out in front of you, balling up more of the covers, a better grip than before.
“Fuck you feel amazing,” Vox sighs, “I’m gonna fuckin fill you up, Doll.”
Vox moves faster, starts babbling. You can’t even imagine how this feels for him, if it feels so euphoric for you. The new angle pushes you further, if that was even possible, moaning wantonly into the duvet as you clench around him, gripping at sanity.
“Gonna give you everything,gonna fuckin give you it all,” he rambles, speeding up his thrusting.
Each thrust pushes you up and up and up, the precipice of your high coming closer.
Vox sinks his claws into the top of your ass, anchoring you into place for him as he pistons in and out of you.
The shocking feeling grows more frequent, each time he bottoms out is a total reset of your system.
You come without warning, a harsh whine of a moan and your entire body clamps down on him, harsh and sudden.
You shake in the patterns of an earthquake,one after another after another. Vox holds you through it all, his thrusts slowing as your cunt becomes a vice grip on his cock, coming himself with a shuddering moan, collapsing upon you and savoring the feeling your bodies and fluids connected.
He keeps thrusting, working you both through the high and the comedown with ease, his hips snapping in time and spending all of his energy within you.
Vox only slows when your shaking stops, when your moans stutter out, when you go limp. He holds himself there in you, savoring the moment and the feeling. Euphoric warmth floods you, endorphins rushing below the skin. His hands run up and down your back, hot flat palms to soothe any aftershocks in your muscles.
Vox pulls out slowly, gentle and careful. You can already feel it, mixed spend spilling from you in his absence. He’s made a mess of you, and more than usual. You miss the warmth his body brings, the cool air of the room discomforting.
“Val you gotta look at this,” Vox’s voice is dripping with enthusiasm behind you despite the fact you know he’s as exhausted as you are. He runs the backs of his claws from your ass to your thigh, not a reassuring caress of aftercare, but the way one would admire a trophy. And in your case, a sweaty, messy, bound trophy. You meet eyes with Val, who tucks his now softening member back into his pants, and rises from his chair. The moth demon rounds the corner of the bed, and you can hear the dull thud of his leather glove against Vox’s bare shoulder.
“Oh, espléndida,” Valentino coos, the same tired lustful tone in his voice as Vox carries. Leather of Val’s glove makes contact with the small of your back, and your arch into his touch, but he moves no further. How is it that you still react to this kind of touch even after all of your body feels boneless and not your own?
“I know,” Vox practically moans, and you feel yourself once again constricting, this time around nothing. Fuck, the effect this man has on you. Vox indulges where Val doesn’t, his hand leaving your thigh to cup you between them. You moan, burying your face into the duvet below you as he runs the tip of his clawed finger between your oversensitive folds.
“Definitely good for business, right?” he asks, and you can feel the mixed spend of your releases dripping out of you, “Fuck, baby, you’re something else.”
He says that last part like Valentino isn’t here, like it’s the two of you, special and private. He smears it up between your ass cheeks, before removing his hand from you all together. You try to bury yourself into the blanket even further when you hear the sound of him sucking his own fingers clean. Normally you’d be opening your mouth for a greedy taste yourself, but something about Valentino being here keeps you meek.
“Can we keep this?” he asks his business partner, turning his attention away from you now.
“Of course!” Val booms excitedly, “And I can go ahead on production now that this trial has been a success!”
You slide down, your knees untucking from under you as you nestle further into the warmth of Vox’s navy blue duvet. It’s soft and doused in the same cologne he uses and oh so comforting. Conversation between the two men turns to Val’s business, nothing you actually have to pay attention to as it doesn’t apply to Vox’s schedule.
And then soon enough you feel Vox climb off the bed, hear the closing of a door, the click of a lock, and Vox’s hands return to your back, this time massaging and gentle.
He climbs back onto the bed, his body covering yours as he undoes the clasps of the restraints, pressing his chest against your back. He bends your arms at the elbow, bringing each wrist up against his screen to kiss them, his thumb massaging circles into them. His hands move back up your arms, over your shoulders, and down your back. Vox pushes you over, onto your side to lay on the bed, before laying down himself. You reach out for him in the dimly lit room, running your fingers along the bottom edge of his screen. He glows brighter, his little way of letting you know you have his attention even when he cannot turn to look at you.
“I’m messy,” you whine, but make no move to get up. You’re so spent your limbs feel like they’re made of stone.
“You want me to run a bath?” he asks, already getting up from his spot. He’s still naked, still your vulnerable Vox, something more than your boss.
You nod, jutting out your bottom lip at him. He chuckles as he gathers you up easily in his arms, making a beeline for his bathroom.
“Jacuzzi jets,” you tell him, and he nods vigorously. Of course, he was always going to turn on the jacuzzi jets; They’re your favorite.
Vox crosses the room easily as you wrap your arms around his neck, snuggling into him. He kicks the door to the bathroom open and sets you down on the cool tile of the counter. It soothes your ass, calms the handprint shaped bruises.
“Can I convince you to sleep over tonight, Doll?”
“No need,” you shake your head, a playful smile as he starts the bath, “I doubt I can fuckin’ walk after the number you did on me.”
Vox’s screen flashes, his smile huge.
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Text
Miguel O'Hara x Reader Headcanons
Summary: How you and Miguel found yourselves in a situationship of sorts.
Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x fem!Spider!Reader
Warnings: Miguel gets angry when he's worried (it's a canon event guys). A very sultry kiss and implied smut towards the end. Me using far too many of the adjectives at my disposal just to describe this man and all the things he makes me feel.
I went and saw Across the Spiderverse TWICE in a week while it was in my hometown, and immediately started drafting fic for this goddamn gorgeous problem of a man 🔥 He just gave me too much to work with and I may or may not have spent entire months watching every single compilation I could find for "scientific inspiration". For my headcanon purposes, reader is a spider-hero as well, but I left her pretty vague on purpose -- feel free to fill in her costume/powers/skill set with your own spidersona :)
*Spanish translations at the end! (I am fairly bilingual, but if I made a lil mistake here or there do forgive me)
• He would say he had no idea when or how it started -- you, on the other hand, were taken by him from the first time he gave you his whole "canon" spiel.
• How could you not be? He towered above you, body chiseled like a Greek God, angular face equal parts weary and arrogant.
• And that voice -- rich and smooth as a silky black coffee -- it would be safe to say you were pretty smitten right away.
• To his surprise, you worked your way into his inner circle fairly quickly for a new recruit. Although you definitely had your own opinions, you knew when and how to push his boundaries and when he wasn't in the mood for it.
• Soon he trusted you to handle yourself with minimal supervision from him -- and maybe that trust was the beginnings of it for him. Because even though he recognized your competence, he still found himself continually assigning you to his personal strike squad, not to look after you, but because you somehow didn't annoy the hell out of him.
• Which comes in handy for everyone else after a while, because soon that translates over to you soothing the proverbial beast when he's biting the heads off of the more sensitive Spiders.
"How could you be so STUPID -- !"
"Okay, Miguel, I think they got the point."
"But they -- !"
"I know. They know. It's okay, let's all just take a breath."
"¡Ay coño! Nadie me oye. Todos son idiotas."
But he does back off, and does take a breath, and everyone else stares at you like you're the second coming of Christ.
• Your fascination and admiration for the intense head of the Society soon turns to a genuine enjoyment of his company. He's not much of a conversationalist, but you're okay with silence, and sometimes you just...end up keeping him company in the monitor tower after missions and he just...lets you.
• You soon notice the ungodly hours he keeps and start leaving him an empanada and a black coffee at the end of the day when you leave -- you know how dangerous he gets when hangry and undercaffeinated.
• It's a bit strange for him at first (someone is actually choosing his company over the bombastic personalities of the other spiders?) but Miguel soon gets used to you hanging around, and the hairs on the back of his neck finally stop bristling at having a fellow person in the room.
• One thing he absolutely can't figure out is why the scent of fear never radiates from you, even when you witness his occasional equipment-trashing tantrums. But he somehow doesn't quite mind that he can't intimidate you.
• He would strongly deny he ever gave you favorite treatment, but some of the others do realize he's not QUITE as hard on you when you challenge his decisions.
• Sometimes you check on him late at night before you go home; you can tell when he hasn't slept in a couple days by the way his shoulders hunch and how often he pinches the bridge of his nose against an oncoming headache (though sometimes that's just from dealing with Peter (x100) for too long).
• And that turns into you staying in late to keep him company while he swipes through screens upon screens of things that require his personal attention.
• That's how you end up finally seeing the videos of him and his little girl; he probably forgot you were there and her loss hit him all over again and before he knew it you had seen what he was like once, when the lines on his handsome face were from smiling so widely instead of losing sleep over the fate of all of reality.
• Neither of you really address it for a long time, but you know, and he knows you do, and there's this weird comfort that settles between the two of you after that.
• He already knows your story of course, and your canon events, but when the pair of you finally start talking during those late nights you share the little details, and you have the feeling that he wants to care about the small things, he just can't with the much larger picture he has to handle.
• It's little things that make it past his unbreakable outer walls -- the fleeting brush of your hand across his back as you pass behind him, the way you can hold eye contact with him longer than anyone else, the seemingly flippant way you blow him a kiss every so often when he sends you off to go make yourself useful elsewhere. Casual things, but he notices.
• And you want to tell him you're in love with him, but have a feeling he doesn't want to hear those words, because once they're out in the air, it means you both can't sidestep it anymore, so you don't.
• After a particularly rough mission, he's angry and you're shaken up, and he doesn't mean to react the way he does, but he takes it out on you, scolding you for what almost happened, and you fire right back because you're emotional, and the two of you end up raising your voices and everyone else just kind of...leaves the room.
• Then silence.
• You and Miguel are breathing hard, staring at each other. And something fragile takes root in the empty space between you.
• "Could you do me a favor and maybe not get yourself shocking killed?!" he growls at last, and there's a raw edge to it you haven't heard before.
• You laugh brokenly. "What do you really care, O'Hara? There's literally hundreds of Spiders here; I think you'd be okay."
• "¡Coño! How can you be so blind?!" He's snarling now, full lips pulled back and sharp teeth on display. "I thought we were on the same page for once."
• You're totally unprepared for when he grabs your shoulders and forces you to look up, right at him. "I can't lose someone else."
• He's so close, and his angry mouth has softened. And maybe you've lost your mind, but he's already angry, so what do you have to lose, really? At least that's what you tell yourself as you take the plunge and lean in.
• And to your surprise, he not only meets your lips, he kisses you back with matching fire, and what was supposed to be a simple, singular impulse turns into an unexpectedly heavy ongoing process -- fingers raking through hair, bodies pressing together, hotly whispering things neither of you remembers.
• And then as quickly as it happened, it's over, and you're on opposite sides of the room again like sulking cats, and he sends you home.
• You don't talk about the incident for weeks. Life goes on.
• But then one night, he offers to take you home when you both stay behind late, and at your door he apologizes for his lapse in professionalism, and you admit you...didn't mind. At all. He doesn't seem in a hurry to leave, and wanting to distract him from his work for at least a little while, you invite him in.
• And somehow what was supposed to be a sweet goodbye-and-thank-you kiss a couple hours later turned into exploring touches and murmured questions and agreements and how damn good his arms feel locked around your body; and when the sun filters in through your window in the morning he's long gone but your skin still smells like him and you realize that actually happened.
• You assume it's a one-time thing. People make mistakes, after all, no hard feelings.
• Bur when Miguel holds you back after a mission several days later and wants to make absolutely sure that the other night didn't make things uncomfortable between you, you go out on a limb and admit to him that you really enjoyed it.
• And he has to take some time and process that.
• But eventually he shows up at your place late one night again, and it starts to become a bit of a regular thing. So much so that you give him the spare key to your apartment and he starts to leave some of his clothes there sometimes. You love wearing his shirts, because they're enormous as hell on you, and you sleep in his clothes whenever you can't have his skin against yours.
• (For his part, he also likes when you wear his shirts, because then your throat, shoulders, and thighs are that much easier to get at.)
• And life goes on.
¡Ay coño! = (Expletive)
Nadie me oye = No one listens to/hears me
Todos son idiotas = They're all idiots
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btsvt-bar · 15 hours
Note
I think hoshin is a reassuring boyfriend, he will remind you that he is safe when you are with him, but he will also consume you, it can hurt you, but his mouth does a very good job, I feel like there will be a lot of hickey, a possessor
What do you think about it?? ❤️‍🔥
i’m sure he’s the best person to comfort you when you need it! and he would take care of you in every way possible 😵‍💫
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・
you had a tough day at work, hoshi can see it in your face the second you walk through the door.
he hugs you immediately and leads you to the couch. you sit down with him basically glued to you.
"what happened, honey?" he asks softly while rubbing your back. his musky scent helps you to calm down a bit.
you sniff, holding back tears that threaten to fall.
"you can tell me, sweetheart." hoshi smiles reassuringly. "let it all out, you’ll feel better."
and he proceeds to listen to you vent out about your annoying coworker and the shitty situation that happened. you cry a little, still feeling overwhelmed, and he hugs you tightly while you wet his shoulder with tears.
"i’m sorry for this." you apologize when you notice the wet patch on his tshirt. "thank you for being here."
"shhh don’t worry. i’m always here for you, you don’t have to apologize. you can count on me." he keeps reassuring you, and you wonder how you got so lucky to find a man like him.
you wipe the last few tears and pull him in for a loving kiss. "thank you, baby. i love you so much."
hoshi sighs happily when your lips meet, feeling his heart burst with joy and warmth. "i love you too, beautiful."
"how about we take a nice bath and you tell me about your day?" you offer, standing up and reaching out for his hand.
"i’d love that!"
so you go to your shared room and you run the bath while hoshi grabs two beers and a bottle of soju. you change into sad excuse for a bikini and wait for hoshi to come in.
for a while, you’re just chatting and laughing about nothing. but then hoshi gets hyper aware of your nakedness and it turns his brain into a puddle of desire.
he reaches out and pulls you onto his lap. you notice the lust in his eyes, so you easily give him permission to proceed. you kiss again, but this time it’s different. it’s hungry and full of energy.
hoshi’s hands go for your bikini straps, pulling them to free you from the small piece of clothing. then, he caresses your back while kissing your neck with passion. you feel him giving you a couple of love bites, but you can’t bring yourself to care. not when your hips are grinding deliciously against his, your nipples rubbing against his chest and his plush lips brushing against all the right spots.
"let’s go to bed, we need more space." you two hurriedly dry off, while sharing more kisses, and get completely naked.
hoshi’s already hard and your mouth waters at the sight of his cock. before reaching the bed, you suck him off.
hoshi leans against the sink cabinet and throws his head back in pleasure. you suck his red tip, enjoying his whimpering and moaning. he gently places his hand of the back of your head, conducting your movements.
one of your hands grabs his thigh for support and the other plays with his balls, which makes his cock twitch in your mouth. when he’s too close to cumming, he pulls away.
"i’m supposed to cheer you up, not the other way around." he pouts a little, managing to look cute even with a hard cock and swollen lips.
"this is cheering me up." you chuckle and spread your legs for him.
hoshi gets on top of you promptly. his fingers rub your wetness skillfully, making you arch into his touch, asking for more.
he slides two fingers in, and rubs your inner walls in perfect pace. you let out soft gasps that spur him on, hoshi loves to hear you coming undone.
putting his mouth to good use, he circles your nipples with his tongue. his palm heel brushes against your clit, and the added pleasure burns your insides. your breath hitches, the stimulation getting too intense. hoshi keeps going until you cum, and helps you get through it all.
he sucks more bruises on your boobs, feeling addicted to marking you as his own.
"my pretty baby." he gives you another hickey. "mine, just mine." another one. "you look so hot right now, letting me mark you up, so everyone knows you’re taken." one more.
hoshi aligns himself and slowly sinks into your heat. you both moan in pleasure.
you scratch down his back with your long nails. if he’s going to give you hickeys, he’s getting scratches.
you feel yourselves getting higher and higher, your bodies catching fire in sync. your toes are just on the edge, ready to fall over.
hoshi picks up the pace, trying to get you both off. his tempo makes your eyes roll back and you unconsciously bite his shoulder. hoshi’s face is buried in your neck, his low grunts reaching your ears deliciously.
it’s when you start to clench your walls around him that hoshi is pushed over the edge and he brings you with him.
your skin prickles and your legs shake. you’re totally spent, the low buzzing sound in your ears giving away the rush of dopamine that’s coursing through your body.
"you ok?" hoshi asks after a few minutes. you agree with your head. He laughs "you don’t look ok."
"i’m feeling perfect." you smile lazily.
hoshi’s eyes scan your body, your new hickeys blooming more each passing second. "i think you still need a few more love bites on your thighs." He fishes for an approval for round 2.
you have no idea how messed up you look, but whatever. a turtle neck or a scarf can do the trick of covering you up.
"i’m not arguing with a guy with pretty brown eyes. like, whatever you say, handsome." you flirt while looking at him.
hoshi flashes you the filthiest smile you’ve ever seen before going down on you.
you’re in for a long, long night.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・
© btsvt-bar, 2024
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the-pen-pot · 5 hours
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'What happened to your back?' Arthur's voice sounded tense, stiff and uncertain. The brush of warm fingers against the three, pale lines across his shoulder-blade made Merlin jolt in alarm. He whirled around, the tunic still clutched in his hands as he blinked stupidly, his words caught somewhere in his throat. Not that it mattered. Arthur was too busy staring at the starburst scar the size of a grown man's hand that lay right in the centre of his front, over his heart. A frown of confusion melted beneath a mask of horror, and Merlin swallowed hard as all the colour fled Arthur's face. 'What happened to your chest?!'
Arthur finds out about Merlin's scars. Read above on AO3, or keep reading below 👇
 
It was his own stupid fault, Merlin thought grimly. His usual clumsiness and an unguarded moment was all it took. 
He had been helping set up for Uther's latest stupid feast, and he'd slopped red wine all down the front of a blue tunic. In theory, he could have dismissed the stain with a spell, but the smell would have haunted him all evening. Arthur might know that all the time he was apparently in the tavern he was dealing with some magical crisis or other, but the same could not be said for the rest of the court. His reputation was bad enough as it was without adding fuel to that particular fire.
He'd ducked into one of the rooms where they stored the fresh laundry, pulling free a tunic he'd not yet collected before peeling himself free of the clinging fabric. The rustle of cloth meant he didn't hear the creak of the door, and the voice that rang out behind him made him jolt in surprise.
'What happened to your back?'
Arthur's voice sounded tense, stiff and uncertain. The brush of warm fingers against the three, pale lines across his shoulder-blade made Merlin jolt in alarm. He whirled around, the tunic still clutched in his hands as he blinked stupidly, his words caught somewhere in his throat. 
Not that it mattered. Arthur was too busy staring at the starburst scar the size of a grown man's hand that lay right in the centre of his front, over his heart. A frown of confusion melted beneath a mask of horror, and Merlin swallowed hard as all the colour fled Arthur's face.
'What happened to your chest?!'
'Er...' Merlin winced, because although he had told Arthur about his magic – about everything he had done in his name, the good and the bad – he had rather glossed over some of the details. He hadn't done any of it for Arthur's gratitude, after all. He didn't need his thanks or his sympathy, but he couldn't deny that some of his choices had left their marks on his body for the world to see.
'Why are you in here?' he managed, hoping to derail the conversation as he hastily tugged on the fresh garment, shoving his arms through the sleeves as he hid the scars from sight. 'Did you need something?'
'I need you to tell me what happened.' Arthur's blue eyes snapped with an aimless, volatile sort of anger. His arms were folded across his chest, making his tunic strain at the shoulders, and the scowl on his brow suggested he wouldn't be easily swayed from his questioning. 'Merlin, who hurt you?'
'It was ages ago. It doesn't matter.'
He went to duck around Arthur, mumbling something about the feast preparations. Yet before he got more than a few paces, strong fingers snagged his wrist. It wasn't a tight grip, Merlin could have broken free with ease, but he still came to heel like a dog obeying its master.
'No, I'm not letting you leave,' he murmured, the rumble of his words sending a bolt of heat arcing down Merlin's spine. It snatched the air from his lungs, leaving him breathless and tense as Arthur turned him back around, shifting his grip to Merlin's shoulders as he stared into his eyes. 'Not until you tell me the truth. Who. Hurt. You?'
The anger in that expression wasn't aimed at him; Merlin knew that well enough. There was nothing Arthur hated more than feeling helpless. He was protective of his knights where Uther was dismissive of their loyalty and their sacrifice, but the gleam in his eye went beyond that. Dread had stolen the warmth from his face, and he was watching Merlin with the kind of intensity that some would find unnerving.
'Sigan and his stupid gargoyles' – He jerked his thumb over his shoulder, indicating the scars on his back before tapping one finger over his heart – 'Nimueh and a fireball.' They were such simple words for the horror of stony claws raking his back and the flash and burn of the incendiary spell that had hit him square in the chest, but in the end, they summed it up pretty neatly. 'It's fine, Arthur. They healed.'
He frowned, not understanding the expression on Arthur's face. The knights took injuries for him all the time, and while he praised their courage, he never looked like that – as if someone had reached into his guts and wrenched them out of him, leaving him hollow.
'That's not the point.' Arthur's grasp moved from his shoulders, drifting down his arms to his hands. It was a soothing gesture, one Merlin wasn't even sure was consciously done. Yet even he could feel how Arthur's touch mapped the calluses on his palms and the small scars that were an apprentice healer's mark: tiny burns and the occasional slim white line where the herb-knife had slipped and sliced skin instead. Those didn't cause him any distress, and Merlin realised it was because they were expected: wounds received in the execution of his duties.
Duties which, even knowing about his magic, Arthur clearly didn't realise involved protecting him with as much determination as any one of his knights.
'You've got scars,' Merlin pointed out, thinking of the starburst from the Questing Beast's bite, among others.
'I'm a knight. A prince.' He didn't add "a target"; he didn't have to. They were both thinking it. 'I've been trained to fight since I could walk. You... haven't.'
Merlin snorted. That was an understatement. Still, he could practically see the spin of considerations in Arthur's head, and some magical sense forewarned him that if he didn't speak quickly, he'd find himself on the duelling field being beaten half-to-death in the name of "practice".
'Wielding a sword wouldn't have saved me from either of these, and it's not like I can train in battle-spells, is it?' He shrugged one shoulder, unwilling to disturb Arthur's hand from where it still gripped his, tracing idle, tormenting little patterns against his skin. He didn't think Arthur realised what he was doing: how each caress made Merlin's breath come from deeper in his chest. It made his heart feel like it pumped hot honey, rather than blood, around his veins. 'It's not exactly discreet.'
Arthur pulled as face, but he didn't argue. It had been slow, steady work, getting him to see just how much damage the ban on magic had caused. Arthur would not care for his own sake: he was not interested in doing anything the easy way, but he was beginning to see how his people could suffer from its lack. Now, he looked at Merlin with fresh realisation. 'You can't learn how to defend yourself. Not without risking exposing your magic to all of Camelot.'
It was a flat statement of fact, one that he could not deny. It wasn't just that he could not practice; even studying the theory was a risky endeavour. As long as Uther still sat upon the throne, then Merlin had to work from the shadows and hope that he and Arthur both survived to see better days.
'Armour.' Arthur said it softly. 'I cannot change the laws of Camelot, but there's is nothing to say a servant cannot wear armour. You could enchant it, couldn't you? Extra spells to protect you from magic. You've done it to mine.' One golden eyebrow lifted in challenge, as if daring Merlin to deny it. 'No one will question it. They know you come on almost every patrol with us, and more than one person has remarked upon the fact that you do not wear anything but the tunic on your back. Truthfully, I should have done something about that long before now.'
Merlin pursed his lips. The rumours in court were already rife, and armour would just be another sign of his favour. Already, people noticed how Arthur let Merlin get away with disobedience that bordered on treason, sometimes, and they had taken note.
It was tempting to argue: to say he didn't need it. Armour wouldn't protect him from magical attacks, but he could see the desperation in Arthur's gaze. Those eyes had dipped to the laces of Merlin's tunic, as if envisioning the scar beneath. There was a haunted slant to his expression, as if he were imagining how that day could have ended.
The hand around Merlin's tightened, firm and sure, and when Arthur lifted his eyes once more, he looked resolute. 'I won't see you hurt again,' he said, speaking like a king laying down the law. 'Not if I can help it. One day, it will be different.' He swallowed. 'One day, you will be able to practice your magic without having to hide, but for now, let me help keep you safe. Please?'
Merlin blinked, his heart heaving in a dizzying whirl. Arthur had never spoken of this before. He almost couldn't believe his ears, and he shifted where he stood, one hand reaching out as if he could pin Arthur's words – this very moment – motionless in place.
'Do you mean it?' he rasped, trying to fight the urge to lean forward but unable to stop himself. 'You'll return magic to Camelot?'
'Yes.' Arthur tilted his head to the side, a faint smile curving his lips at whatever he saw in Merlin's face. 'I swear it.'
Beyond the door, the sounds of hurrying servants broke through the heavy air between them. It was enough to send a ripple of awareness through the tiny room – to make Merlin realise how close they stood to each other. All around them the balance of their friendship seemed to wobble, breathless, but it was Merlin, not Arthur, who stepped back in retreat.
'I – I don't know what to say.' A grin spread over his face, bright and unstoppable. 'Thank you!'
And if he hadn't already loved Arthur for more months than he cared to count – hidden and unacknowledged – he would have fallen there and then to see Arthur's bright, boyish grin light up the room.
'You're welcome, Merlin.'
– – –
Buckles chimed as Arthur slid them into place, sheathing Merlin in the armour he had commissioned. It was not the glittering mail and stalwart plate of his knights, but soft leather with scale pressed between: light and flexible, but strong enough to shield Merlin from the worst the world had to offer.
He wet his lips, looking up at him under his lashes as his pulse thrummed helplessly. The promise he had made still echoed in his mind. No doubt accompanied it; he would not go back on his word. Not after he'd seen the vicious light of hope lend its glow to Merlin's features.
Besides, magic was not the only thing he planned to change when he took the throne. He could not admit how he felt for Merlin now, not while his father still lived and all the expectations of the court were against them. He would not make Merlin suffer that.
Instead, he did what he could to protect the man who had stolen his heart. He would keep him safe in whatever way he could, and one day, he would be free to claim the love that Merlin promised him with every glance.
They would have their golden age, together. Arthur would make sure of it.
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sometimes lifes is cruel to you for no fucking greater meaning but u still have to go through it and just endure
#im tired of enduring and living through it and having to live with everything on my back.#i know theres a way out but it requires patience and im so so fucking tired of being patient and waiting till this ends#everyday is like walking myself to hell and back. and i know where my steps lead me but i still have to carry myself through a nightmare#im tired of being hangover with yesterdays sorrows and screaming and constant and so much pain it makes me want to simply end it all#im tired of having to remind myself of my worth of my future of the things i know im capable of just to not do it.#im tired of always having to remind myself that there will be a time in the future when all these years will only be a footnote.#something small and unimportant in the grand scheme of things. something i just had to go through but no longer have to.#each time i have to remind myself that i WILL grow old. not in spite but for myself. that i will grow to be older than all these moments#this will not keep me back. i am afraid because i can tell NOW how much it actually does.#but once im out of this situation ill really be free. nothing will keep me back. but secretely i know therell be so many things that bind#me to this place. not negative ones. the negatives are the reasons i want out but what about the people#that im going to leave behind? what about my dog whos been my motivation and my everything in the hardest of times?#leaving is cruel but staying would kill me#i hate my life so hard. life is beautiful but mine sucks so bad lol.#it really was beginning to lighten up a little bit but then it all fell down lol#i know that the more time goes on ill stop caring and just continue but right now i cant stop thinking about all the pain
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angelltheninth · 3 months
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Bruh, if Lilith doesn't want Luci, just give him to us please!!! Can I please request for the short king himself? Like, maybe, he and reader are married (reader is Charlie's stepmom). Like, you cannot tell me this man doesn't have a daddy and breeding kink. Just watching you be so sweet and motherly to Charlie while pregnant with your next baby just makes him for feral. Thanks you!
I mean... she can share... hopefully cause a lot of people want this man.
Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, breeding kink, daddy kink, creampie, praise, biting, Lucifer's wings
Word count: 0.5k
A/N: The insane thirst people have for this guy... valid.
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Lucifer wouldn't have picked you if he didn't feel like you would be sweet to his daughter. She was the most precious thing in the world to him, of course it was important for the two of you to get along. But he had no idea what seeing those motherly displays of yours would do for him. He was hornier then he'd been in a long time and couldn't pull out on time.
"Pregnant?!" He asked, his flames flaring up as he started at your stomach. "By... me?"
"Yes, Luci, who else would it be?" You took his hands and placed them on your stomach. "Is that okay?" Your voice was a bit quieter, more shy.
"Okay?! That's wonderful! Oh I can't wait to be a baby daddy again! And Charlie! She's gonna be so happy! I'm gonna go tell her now!" He kissed your cheek with a big 'MWAH' sound before he fell into one of his portals.
Over the next few months you've watched him go from silly, to protective, to awestruck, to downright feral over you. His current mode was feral as his tail moved behind him, his hips a blur of movement, slapping against yours, his voice deep, barely understandable over the growling and snarling.
Your hand looked for his only to be pinned next to your head, the other one pinned above your head by his tail. "No moving around too much. You're gonna wake the baby." His teeth nipped at your throat and shoulder, shushing you but increasing the frequency at which he drove his hard cock into you.
"That's not... it's not even... I'm barely showing." You argued, but forgot you were arguing with the devil himself. Lucifer's blonde hair fell over his forehead, his eyes, out of place from his usual well kept perfect look.
"So? I fucked this baby into you remember? Wonder if there's still time to put another bun in the oven?" Even with him showing this much sharp teeth, with him tearing the sheets, with him fucking another warm gooey stream of cum into you he was still as sweet as before, trying to make you laugh to balance out how rough your poor cunt has been getting it lately, "You wanna make a daddy again? Yeah? Tell me, what do you want darling?"
You couldn't pull him in with your arms so you did it with your legs, pushing against the back of his and keeping his thrusts short and deep. "I'll make you a daddy as many times as you want, Lucifer, beloved."
His free hand grabbed your hip, keeping you still for him before he collapsed against your chest, his cum dripping from your pussy, his wings falling around both of you, shaking from how hard he came. "Sent... a few feathers flying there." He should really get that under control, but after ten thousand years he doubts he will. Besides he knows you enjoy it when you see them fly, it reminds that for all the power he holds, you can reduce the King of Hell to this state.
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emberwhite · 3 months
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I spent the last 11 months working with my illustrator, Marta, to make the children's book of my dreams. We were able to get every detail just the way I wanted, and I'm very happy with the final result. She is the best person I have ever worked with, and I mean, just look at those colors!
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I wanted to tell that story of anyone's who ever felt that they didn't belong anywhere. Whether you are a nerd, autistic, queer, trans, a furry, or some combination of the above, it makes for a sad and difficult life. This isn't just my story. This is our story.
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I also want to say the month following the book's launch has been very stressful. I have never done this kind of book before, and I didn't know how to get the word out about it. I do have a small publishing business and a full-time job, so I figured let's put my some money into advertising this time. Indie writers will tell you great success stories they've had using Facebook ads, so I started a page and boosting my posts.
Within a first few days, I got a lot of likes and shares and even a few people who requested the book and left great reviews for me. There were also people memeing on how the boy turns into a delicious venison steak at the end of the book. It was all in good fun, though. It honestly made made laugh. Things were great, so I made more posts and increased spending.
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But somehow, someway these new posts ended up on the wrong side of the platform. Soon, we saw claims of how the book was perpetuating mental illness, of how this book goes against all of basic biology and logic, and how the lgbtq agenda was corrupting our kids.
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This brought out even more people to support the book, so I just let them at it and enjoyed my time reading comments after work. A few days later, then conversation moved from politics to encouraging bullying, accusing others of abusing children, and a competition to who could post the most cruel image. They were just comments, however, and after all, people were still supporting the book.
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But then the trolls started organizing. Over night, I got hit with 3 one-star reviews on Amazon. My heart stopped. If your book ever falls below a certain rating, it can be removed, and blocked, and you can receive a strike on your publishing account. All that hard work was about to be deleted, and it was all my fault for posting it in the wrong place.
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I panicked, pulled all my posts, and went into hiding, hoping things would die down. I reported the reviews and so did many others, but here's the thing you might have noticed across platforms like Google and Amazon. There are community guidelines that I referenced in my email, but unless people are doing something highly illegal, things are rarely ever taken down on these massive platforms. So those reviews are still there to this day. Once again, it's my fault, and I should have seen it coming.
Luckily, the harassment stopped, and the book is doing better now, at least in the US. The overall rating is still rickety in Europe, Canada, and Australia, so any reviews there help me out quite a lot. I'm currently looking for a new home to post about the book and talk about everything that went into it. I also love to talk about all things books if you ever want to chat. Maybe I'll post a selfie one day, too. Otherwise, the book is still on Amazon, and the full story and illustrations are on YouTube as well if you want to read it for free.
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yueebby · 8 months
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sooo i read your "indulge me?" piece and that's why i wanted to ask for gojo simping for reader that doesn't really seem him as more as a friend and he's fine with it (lol he's not but he's need to keep the facade you know???) hope you write it at some point! btw loving you writing so far <333
11:34pm — gojo satoru
contents. highschool!gojo, fluff, he’s so in love bye, underage drinking, tokyo and kyoto students have a little get together!
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“what’s wrong with him?” utahime watches her white haired underclassman down another can of beer. it was rare to see gojo drinking with the rest of the group, always opting for a soda instead.
shoko takes another swig out of her drink, unsurprised. “[name] is on a date.” 
a pathetic groan leaves gojo’s lips and the upper half of his body is splayed over the kotatsu in shoko’s room, sunglasses long forgotten somewhere. he lets out an unapologetic burp. everyone at the table spares him a glance of pity. 
utahime grimaces and mutters a quiet, “gross”. 
“don’t provoke him,” geto scolds shoko, flicking some ash from his cigarette to the ashtray below. “she’s just dealing with clan matters. arranged marriages and whatnot.” he used his free hand to land a firm pat on gojo’s back. what kind of best friend would he be if he didn’t try to comfort satoru? 
“poor thing. i can keep you company in the meantime,” mei mei’s smile is far from something with good intentions. gojo shakes his head to refuse, but with the way his forehead was pressed to the table, it looked comical. like a child throwing a tantrum. 
the only thing that managed to get gojo satoru out of his drunken slump was a soft knock on the door. he could recognize that pattern anywhere. could it be–? the snow haired boy immediately perks up. his drunk dazed eyes brighten as he quickly makes his way to the door. 
geto snorts at the way his best friend reacts. he thinks he can see an imaginary tail wagging, as if he were a dog. 
“you’re late!” gojo accuses you when he opens the door. you blink.
“are you…okay?” your voice is laced with concern as gojo’s large frame towers over you. gojo preens.
“awww, is my [name] worried about me now? don’t worry, ‘m doing just fine!” there is a goofy grin painted on gojo’s face as he leans against the doorway. all conversation has stopped and every sorcerer was listening attentively to gojo's hopeless conversation with you. utahime can’t help but feel just a little compassion for the boy. he was pining so much it hurt.
“i wasn’t worried. it's just that your words are all slurred– don’t tell me you let shoko talk you into drinking with her again?” you sigh. it was hard to miss the smell of beer on him. gojo and alcohol never mixed well, and the last thing you needed tonight was another lecture from yaga. 
from inside her room, shoko shouts, “it wasn’t me this time! the idiot decided to drown himself in beer after we warned him not to!” it was common knowledge that gojo couldn’t handle his alcohol. 
the male in question pouts.
“can a man not grieve about the love of his life being married to another?” gojo deflates. on the other side of the threshold, you wrinkle your nose.
“who said anything about marriage? like hell i’m going to accept a proposal from naoya zen’in.” you grumble. it had been a long night. dealing with your family and naoya was enough to scare you into staying in jujutsu tech for good. you’d rather lose your sanity to gojo than your dignity to naoya. 
“never mind that though, are mei mei and utahime still here? i was hoping to catch up with them!” you smile, crouching under his arm to make your way into the room. gojo doesn’t hesitate to trail right behind you. 
“[name]!” utahime waves happily at you, her mood no longer sour after she sees you. your wave back is enthusiastic. mei mei acknowledges your presence.
“how was dinner with naoya?” suguru asks. your face pinches up. he laughs before handing you a cold can of soda which you accept graciously.
you hear gojo mutter to himself from behind you.
“what’s up with him?” you whisper to suguru.
“you know how he is when he drinks,” he sighs, ushering you to sit beside him. gojo seemed to have his own agenda though, forcefully squeezing himself between the two of you. you shoot him an annoyed look to which he responds with a grin on his face. 
“‘m tired,” he whines, stretching his arms dramatically while letting out a loud yawn. you grunt when there’s a heavy weight on you; gojo has thrown his entire body on your side.
you don’t bother pushing him off. you’ve learned in the two years you’ve known gojo that he is like a baby when he gets drunk. it’s best if you let him have his way.
“go to sleep then, idiot,” you flick his forehead. he juts his bottom lip childishly, looking up at you with wide eyes. his eyes are captivating and you think you see nervousness through those azure orbs.
“will you come to bed with me too?” he rests his chin on your shoulder. you raise an eyebrow in surprise.
“eh? why would i?”
“because i’m cute.” gojo bats those long eyelashes of his innocently. you roll your eyes playfully before taking another sip out of your soda. 
“you’re weird– that’s what you are.” your lips quirk upward, eyes twinkling with mirth. he sulks, chin still comfortably supported by your shoulder.
“‘m not that bad!” he protests, a frown forming on his lips. you look at him for a long moment. this was the first time you’ve ever gotten to look at gojo this closely. 
his hair was getting longer, you note silently. with your free hand, you slowly move a strand of hair out of his face. gojo watches you earnestly. if his cheeks were not already flushed, they are now. 
“can we stop it with the flirting? let us single folk live in peace.” shoko speaks up. you turn your attention hastily from gojo to the rest of your fellow peers. 
“i feel like i’m intruding on something,” mei mei says scandalously. your eyes widen.
“we are not– no way!” you shake your head repeatedly. no one believes you. especially not while gojo is still resting on your shoulder, eyes watching you, full of love.
“stop giving him all your attention and talk to us! we’re much better company,” utahime scowls, pointing her beer disapprovingly at the white haired boy on you. you think you hear gojo grunt.
“alright, alright,” you concede. 
“i hope you don’t mind me asking again, but do tell us how your night with the zen’in kid went,” suguru snickers. you groan exasperatedly.
“where do i even start?”
the rest of the night goes by pleasantly. you had been so engrossed with retelling your experience with dealing with your family that you had failed to notice what gojo was up to. by the time everyone left their respective dorms (or temporary dorms), you noticed the head of white hair sleeping soundly on your lap.
he mumbles something in his sleep, nuzzling himself closer into your stomach. cute. you giggle at how innocent he looks. 
you don’t know what took over you, but you remember bending down and placing a soft kiss on his forehead. to your surprise, gojo reciprocates your kiss. to the best of his capabilities anyway. you watch as he puckers his lips in his sleep. oh my– how precious.
you suppose he isn't so bad.
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notes. THANK U FOR BEING MY FIRST ANON ASK. ily!!! i saw somewhere that gege confirmed gojo would have drunken failures when he was a student haha this is my take on that. hes so bf
also thank you for all the support on my first post?!? you guys are too sweet im crying. i literally giggle and kick my feet reading your feedback ><
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xxsabitoxx · 8 months
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Where JJK Men Are Sensitive
Satoru, Suguru, Nanami, Toji, Sukuna, Yuta, Yuji, Megumi
Warnings: all characters are 18+, this is a smut headcanon post with various levels of lewd-content lol, proceed with caution... or not, I don't judge. I mean I'm the one who wrote it so...
A/N: tried a different style than how I did this with the Hashira lol. Thank you all for blowing up my "How JJK Men Eat Pussy 2.0" post! I was and still am absolutely floored with how quickly y'all blew it up!
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Satoru Gojo
Satoru doesn’t tell you where he is sensitive because he wants you to figure it out through “exploration”. Given the fact that he is the Satoru Gojo, you jump on the offer to spend hours learning every inch of his body. You make a whole day out of it really, and it goes without saying that your endeavor was very, very successful. Sensitive and ticklish run a very thin line for Satoru and it is a line that is very easily blurred. Your first discovery was that he has a very sensitive neck. Something as small as your hands cupping the back of it was enough to have Satoru shivering in your embrace, whining a little into the kiss. You learned very quickly that one of his greatest weaknesses is your lips on his pulse, leaving faint bruises where you sucked. As your exploration continued, you found that Satoru was very reactive when you touched his chest. More specifically, you hadn’t expected him to moan the way he did when your tongue ran across his nipple by mistake. The noise that escaped him, paired with the visible twitch of his dick was enough for you to take the other between your thumb and pointer finger and pinch. The third discovery was that Satoru has particularly sensitive balls. Yep, that’s right, his fucking balls. You had given him head before, but you had never dared to touch him there since you weren’t sure how he would react. Since this was a “free-for-all” as Satoru put it, you gingerly cupped him and watched the way his jaw clenched. Your eyes were glued to his face as you massaged them, alternating your pressure to see how far you could take it before pleasure pushed the line and turned into pain. Turns out, they are sensitive but durable and well… he doesn’t mind if you’re a bit rough with him from time to time (all the time). 
Suguru Geto
Suguru refuses to let you figure out where he is sensitive until you catch him off guard one night and bind his wrists. Of course he can easily get out of them but he’s interested in indulging you because you look too damn cute when you think you’ve won. You’re pretty upfront with him about what you intend to do, which only makes him a little antsy as your fingers nimbly undo the rest of his clothing while you remain in nothing but his t-shirt. Suguru isn’t quite used to the roles being reversed but he’ll give it a try for you. The first sensitive point on his body that you discover is his ears, and it’s not because of his gauges. You actually avoid his earlobes all together, instead catching him by surprise as you sink your teeth into the shell of his ear. This earns a reaction neither of you expected, a low groan that vibrates his chest as you alternate the pressure of your nibbling before pulling away. Suguru’s cheeks are red now as you continue to explore various points on him, his dick painfully hard and sitting proudly against his abdomen as you work. The next spot is actually his sides, your fingernails scraping them has his body shivering in response. It seems some of Suguru’s sensitivity resides in the most random places, because you didn’t quite envision yourself laughing as you grazed your teeth down his side before biting softly and watching his back arch. By the time you reach his waist, Suguru is red in the face and panting, precum oozing steadily out of his tip and resting on his abdomen. He’s looking at you with blown out pupils, quietly begging you to touch him where it really “matters”, to which you shake your head. Suguru’s thighs are his other weakness, which you kind of figured since he always gets very fidgety when you sit on his lap or grind on it.
Kento Nanami
Nanami is a tough man to break down, but over the years you have located a few of his weak points. One of Nanami’s major weaknesses is his jaw/neck, more specifically when you’re kissing and sucking and biting there. There is something about the sensual drag of your teeth on his skin that has his composure dissolving. You know this of course, so you use it to get your way when Nanami is being a little too stubborn for his own good. This neck sensitivity goes a little further though, something as simple as adjusting his tie or fixing his collar will have Nanami shivering from your touch. You found another weak spot by mistake, turns out Nanami is rather ticklish when it comes to his Stomach. You had been riding him, initially placing your hands behind you on his legs to hold yourself as your hips rose and fell. But your back was getting sore and the angle was starting to get tiring, so you slowed and pushed yourself forward rather than leaning back. The moment your hands made contact with Nanami’s abs, he was gritting his teeth and throwing his head back. You initially thought you had hurt him by pressing down on him, but that worried thought disappeared the moment he gasped out for you to “not move” when you started to pull your hands away. You started paying a little more attention to his stomach shortly after that, just because you enjoyed the way he squirmed and fell apart. Unknown to you still is the fact that Nanami’s nipples are very sensitive. He keeps it hidden because he is utterly mortified by how turned on he gets from it. Even if your hand ghosts over them, even if he’s still fully dressed, the feeling has his face turning a deep shade of red. He knows if you figure this out, you’ll go out of your way to touch him there regardless of where you both are, and he just knows he won’t be able to stop the heat from flooding his face. 
Toji Fushiguro
Toji is pretty damn adamant that he has no “weak spots”. That’s up until your hand rests on the back of his slutty ass, tiny waist and he’s crumbling at the feeling. Something about your fingers on his skin has Toji losing his train of thought, he’ll stop mid-sentence if he feels your hands on his waist. Maybe it’s because of how intimate that one touch is, especially when you’re the one grabbing his waist and he’s not the one grabbing yours. Shiu likes to give Toji a funny look if you do this while in his presence, it’s typically one Toji ignores. To continue this “men with sensitive nipples” agenda I got going on, Toji will be putty in your hands the moment your lips wrap around one of his nipples. He’s utterly shameless when you start sucking and biting his chest, moaning and groaning while his hips buck into the air. You are mindful of how you straddle him solely because you don’t want to give him any sort of relief when you toy with him, hence his restless hips meeting empty air rather than your own. Toji’s rather embarrassed by how sensitive the head of his dick is, especially when you’re giving him head. Even the smallest of touches, the quickest tug, even the gentlest lick, will have his jaw going slack. You’re just as cruel as he is sometimes, deciding to focus all of your attention on the tip of his cock just to watch him struggle to clench his slack-jaw to try and hide his noises. You’ll have him coming in no time at all, making sure to be relentless in your teasing after the fact because he can be just as relentless with you when roles are reversed. A bonus spot is his balls, because why the fuck wouldn’t they be. He’s desperate to keep that one a secret but you are too damn observant to get anything by.
Sukuna Ryomen
Sukuna, sensitive? Nah, no fucking way. He is the only man on this list that can confidently say he doesn’t have a single point on his body that will have him crumbling if you touch it. The thing with Sukuna is that he will not let you have enough freedom to roam his body. You are his, but he is not yours. That’s not to say he’ll turn you down if you start sucking and kissing his jaw and neck, the gentle scrape of your teeth certainly do something to ease the tension in his shoulders. But that definitely doesn’t mean those spots are sensitive, nope, not even a little. Sukuna’s hips definitely don’t falter when you grind against his pubic bone while he has you stuffed to the brim with his cock. Oh and he absolutely can’t stand it when your nails rake his shoulders, specifically between his shoulder blades. The king of curses himself has NO weak points, I mean really he doesn’t. There is nothing you can do to get the curse to submit to you, and that’s just the facts. Sukuna definitely doesn’t groan when you do any of these things, he definitely doesn’t utter your name in a deep, warning rumble as you try and fuck with him. And he most definitely does not enjoy when you litter his skin with your own bite marks… just warning ya~
Yuta Okkotsu
Where isn’t this man sensitive? Yuta is pretty embarrassed about how easily he can fall apart under your touch, especially when you are holding his hips while you kiss him. Something about the way your fingers dig into his skin, as if trying to keep him close while he has his teeth sinking into your bottom lip. Like he’ll disappear if you let him go, fuck it just get’s him going. Depending on where you are, Yuta will likely have you pinned to the wall the moment he feels your hands desperately clawing at his hips. You found out pretty quickly that Yuta’s hip sensitivity spreads down to his thighs. The moment your back hits the wall, Yuta is shamelessly shoving his leg between your thighs, spreading them for him as his knee hits the wall and his thigh is slotted snuggle against your heat. Yuta’s noises are relentless as your hips grind down on his thigh, the muscles tensing under your movements and only adding to the shared pleasure of it. You realize pretty fast that Yuta enjoys marking you, but that he also enjoys being marked. That goes hand in hand with his numerous sensitive spots. One time you actually bit his shoulder and he swore he could have come, completely untouched, right then and there. You’ll have his eyes nearly crossing if you rake your nails along his back, the stimulation your sex offers him paired with the ticklish/scratchy stimulation of your nails on his skin is enough to have him sobbing. Yuta will absolutely lose his mind if you bite his neck too, he gets off to being covered in your love bites. That being said, Yuta’s dick is just as sensitive, if not more sensitive than the rest of his body. When you first started having sex, you would tease him by saying you need to fuck more often so he can build his tolerance. Not that you mind having multiple short rounds, especially since he makes sure you cum Every. Single. Time. 
Yuji Itadori
Bless this man, he’s so touch starved that it’s impossible for him to not get the chills whenever you touch him. Yuji’s beyond sensitive, especially when it comes to your touch. Some of his most sensitive spots are actually pretty random and sometimes very specific. For example, just below his ear, that spot on your head where your jaw ends and your ear lobe nearly meet. You kissed him there once, a kiss placed among many, but that was the one spot that had him breathing out, begging you to do it again. So you did, kissing intently and sucking a bruise there until Yuji’s fingers were nearly bruising your waist. You learned his body pretty fast, finding that his chest was pretty sensitive as well, earning you pretty noises every time you so much as ran a finger down his sternum. He doesn’t particularly enjoy his nipples being toyed with roughly, that’s one area that’s more painful-sensitive rather than pleasurable-sensitive. But he doesn’t mind if you kiss them or lick them gently. He’s all for massages, especially when you have him on his stomach, your hands kneading the muscular flesh of his back until he’s shamelessly groaning as you work out the tense knots. But nothing could have prepared him for the pleasure your hands brought him when you began massaging the small of his back. It was enough to turn his groans into moans, goosebumps erupting over his flesh as he shivered uncontrollably. You listened to him, following the instructions he cried out for you to not stop, noticing the way he was grinding his hips into the mattress below you. The sight had been so lewd that you couldn’t make yourself stop even if you tried, dying to see how it all played out, dying to see if he’d make himself cum. Yuji adores it when you run your hands all over him, the feathery light, ticklish touches are enough to make his lips buck, cock twitching violently as he waits for you to do more to him. 
Megumi Fushiguro
Oh Megumi…Megumi Megumi Megumi. He takes after his fathers, not willing to admit he has any weak spots but also willing to let you try and find them. Contradictory but either way, you’re eager to know how to make the typically stoic man crumble. It came as a shock when you figured out one of his sensitive points within thirty seconds of climbing into his lap. Megumi’s thighs are very sensitive, even from something as simple as your weight settling on them. It also helps that the heat from your covered sex can be felt through the material of his clothes, your closeness only making it more apparent. You’ll use this information against him later on, especially on nights where you just want to get him worked up. Turns out Megumi’s neck is pretty ticklish, the mix of your soft lips and hair as well as your teeth gently grazing him is intoxicating. Megumi finds himself struggling to stifle his noises as you mark his neck up with as many love bites and bruises as you can before his self restraint runs thin and he gives up on this whole “locate the weak spots” endeavor. Did I mention he takes after his fathers, cause he does. Megumi is mortified by this fact, but his balls are pretty damn sensitive. After an hour of making out and letting you feel him up, you finally reward him for his patience and give him head. He’d rather your sex but he’s too damn worked up to care at the moment, and your mouth is fucking perfect anyways. So, given that he’s let you have more leeway in the last hour than he has during any other of your sexual encounters, you take the liberty of cupping his sac as you wrap your lips around his tip. You nearly choked when he almost immediately spilled into your mouth, the hour of teasing had worked him up more than either of you anticipated and he had no strength left to mentally prepare for you doing something as bold as that. 
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