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#I dont hate my nose and chin as much
catboybiologist · 3 months
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So much of the narrative around the trans experience centers around pain, dysphoria, and negativity. We have to plead using these desperate expressions of our own suffering as a way to receive some baseline decency. This pain is very real, but it can become consuming.
Fuck that. Let's get some trans joy in here.
To those further along in your transition- do you remember the first time you looked in the mirror and liked what you saw?
To those earlier in your transition- remember, you have this to look forward to. Treasure that hope <3
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emperorcartagia · 18 days
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where is his emmy
#i actually cannot get into this because i wont stop but this shit is so damn good.#i love how big and scary his eyes get when he gets defensive#peter/londo absolutely ATE this scene too like... ACTING!!!!#its just so good its such good delicious food for meee yummy#i just love how intimidating londo is and how sinister he can be#weve been seeing how determined he is and how he schemes to get what he wants#but theres something special about seeing him knock a former ally down a couple pegs#but also bill forward is so god damn perfect for this role in every way its really great#he physically compliments londo in his apperance being taller being more thin his softer features in his face his smaller nose#he is essentially londos waluigi and i love it so much#it makes his role as a foil for londo even more apparent and striking. its perfect.#i love the little mannerisms he has when he acts as refa#his head movements#the nodding thing he does where he tucks his chin into his chest to get Serious#he carries himself in such an Alien way and it is perfect physical acting for a centauri character#he really understood this role and understood the character and i dont think anyone else could have played him#and gave the performance he did#he is soooo criminially underrated#the way that he barely blinks is so slimy and scary it is so fucking perfect. excuse me.#also as an aside#'ohhh londo'#i need to lie down. i hate him.#also refa and londos chemistry is actually insane in every scene they have i am locked the fuck in because theyre both so capitavting#and they work with each other So Well#i need to just write my damn essay on him and get it all out of my system because whew.#lots of thoughts for a guy in six episodes ! ! !
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drivemysoul · 1 year
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my boobs? 6/10. my face? 2/10.
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satoruwiki · 3 months
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𖣠 ꒱ THAT’S WHY I FUCKED YO' BITCH!
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MINORS, AGELESS AND BLANK BLOGS DNI !!
content: nsfw; smut; afab!reader; cheater!reader; multi headcanon w jjk men; blowjob; backshots; recording; mating press; rough sex; hate sex, kinda; reverse cowgirl; not proof read lawl
w.c: 0.5k - 0.6k - 0.8k - 0.5k
n/a: yes i was listening to hit em up by tupac when i came up w this lol. i dont condone cheating but i saw this somewhere and had to write abt it, also not me posting about cheating on valentines day lolll. english isn’t my first language and im still a rookie at writing so bear with me please! any feedback/request/interaction supporting this post is very much appreciated <3
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TOJI
Toji gripped the back of your head, fucking your face relentlessly, his cock hitting your throat so good and triggering your gagging reflexes - your mascara ruined by your tears and staining your cheeks in black streaks. He was fucking seething. How dare you put him in second place? Put your boyfriend before him, really?
"Does he fuck you like I do? Does he fuck you this good?" Toji hissed, bucking his hips into your mouth. You knew he was pissed you chose to cancel your date with him to go with your boyfriend instead - the veins popping on his scowling face gave it away. His grip on you was borderline painful, giving you no breaks like he'd usually do, your jaw became sore. A fine coat of sweat stuck his dark bangs onto his forehead, his abs clenching at each deep thrust. 
"No, the fuck he doesn't. Otherwise, you wouldn't be gagging on my cock right now, fuckin' whore," Toji sneered, pushing your head down til your nose touched his pubes, choking on his girth.
You dug your sharp nails into his thighs, shutting your eyes as tears rolled down. 'Too much! Too much!', you thought, hitting the side of his thigh with your hand, desperate to fill your lungs with air. Toji yanked your head back, pulling his cock out of your mouth - his fist in your hair still firm as you gasped and coughed for air.
A wicked grin crept up Toji's face as he grabbed your phone on the side of the bed. You ignored how or when he got your phone password, but your heart dropped when your camera flash pointed toward you. "T- Toji, what're you-?"
The camera focused on your dishevelled face, half-lidded eyes with cum and drool glistening around your swollen lips, barely any thought crossing your mind, too cock drunk to think. Toji let go of his grasp on your hair and pushed his thumb past your lips, keeping your mouth from closing. “Why don’t you show him how much of a slut you are, hm? Go on, show him how good of a cocksucker you are f’me,” grabbing his shaft to tap his heavy cockhead on your wet lips.
You moaned, pursing your lips to let a thread of spit fall onto his cock and sticking out your tongue to suck on his tip, your tongue lapping across his frenulum before taking him back in your mouth, bobbing your head up and down eagerly, pumping with your hand what your mouth couldn't reach, the salty taste of his pre and cum set on your tongue as you engulfed him in wet heat. 
"That's it, good girl, milking my cock dry with those pretty lips of yours," he huffed, placing his hand back on your head, guiding your movements as he recorded you on your phone, sending each and every video to your boyfriend, who waited for you watching tv back at your place, thinking you were out with your friends.
SUGURU
Suguru yanked your head back, his hand trailing up to your throat, wrapping his thick fingers around and squeezing it enough to make you feel lightheaded. "Forget about your fucking boyfriend, darling," he said with some bitterness in his words, his lips close to your ear, "you're with me now, got it? I fuck this tight pussy more than he does anyway," he nuzzled on the side of your neck, bruising your skin as he rutted deeply, his hefty balls striking your cunt at each thrust.
You grunted, drool running down your chin and breathy moans spilling out your lipstick-smeared lips, his thrusts clouding your mind. As much as you wanted to come up with a snarky remark of yours, nothing but wanton moans came out of your mouth. The squelching of your pussy and Suguru's babbling nonsense ringing in your ears.
Suguru felt his cock pulsing when his eyes locked with yours. Your brows knit together, glaring at him with that fucking fire in your eyes. That same fire that got him going and yearning for you when he remembered you were with your so-called boyfriend and not him. He should be the one taking you on corny dates, spooning you every night in a warm embrace and fucking you dumb as he pleased, not that fucking idiot. "Fuck off Sugu, you're just a quick fuck for me," you spat, lying through your teeth.
Suguru felt a pang in his chest and his blood boiling. That's it? A quick fuck and nothing more? Lies. He buried your face on the bed, pressing your face with his foot, angling his hips to thrust deeper and harsher inside your coiling walls. "You fucking liar," Suguru rasped, his cock abusing your g-spot, "keep lying to yourself, sweetheart. We both know that's not true," he spanked the fat of your ass harshly, branding you with his handprint -a nice mark for your boyfriend to see later- your dripping cunt clenching around his dick at the stinging pain left on your skin.
He was way more than just a quick fuck to you, you knew that, but you weren't going to give him the pleasure of admitting it either (or you didn't want to admit it to yourself either). Suguru knew what it meant to be with you, yet his greediness got the better of him and craved more than a casualty with you. Changing the status between the two of you would only complicate things further for you, and you wanted things to stay just as they were, at the cost of two men's hearts.
You keened as his foot pressed you further and further against the mattress - your ass burned from the rough spanking he gave you, yet it had your back arching and toes curling. It took one more deep pound into your cunt for you to scream out his name, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as your pussy fluttered and gushed on his cock.
"Shit, so damn tight," Suguru winced, fucking you through your orgasm, pumping into your sensitive pussy. He pulled out of you to turn you over your back, pressing your legs close to your chest. Suguru glided his cock up and down across your puffy lips, drawing weak mewls from you.
"I fucking hate you," he hissed, sliding inside your wet cunny with ease, picking up his brutal pace in you. Feeling dangerously close to his climax, Suguru growled, trapping your lips into a messy, passionate kiss. "I really, really hate you," he panted between smooches, his words sounding like he was trying to convince himself more than actually meaning them.
HIROMI
"Right there, huh?" Hiromi said, holding your wrists behind your back as he rocked into you. You whimpered as his cock stroked your walls tenderly, writhing underneath his slender form.
If cheating on your husband wasn't bad enough, cheating with his defence attorney made it worse.
But wasn't this karma? An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. It was nothing compared to the years of misery he gave you at his side. Your heart fluttered inside your chest when Hiromi spoke to you softly, his tone warm enough to melt under his touch, making sure you felt at ease with him, never pressuring you into anything you didn't want to - a great contrast to your husband's coldness and distant tone.
"You're so beautiful," his lips grazing against your flushed cheeks, "so damn perfect," Hiromi murmured, dropping soft kisses along your jawline, his left hand travelling north to cup your breast, pinching and pulling it. "He's an idiot for not seeing your worth as a woman."
Soft moans of his name fell from your lips, throwing your head back to press your lips on his, sinking your sweet sounds into the kiss. There was some doubt within you whether he meant what he said or it was just the heat of the moment since you didn't see him outside the courtrooms (and hotels). You questioned the genuineness in his words, but those words were the ones that made the heat spread under your skin and made you long for more of his affection, more of his touch, more of him.
"Hiromi," you breathed, your skin prickled as his teeth latched onto your shoulder blade, sucking and licking the bruised area gently as an apology. "You can't leave marks, you know that," you murmured with weight in your heart, worried that his love marks would be seen by your husband.
"Let him see them," he cooed, dropping a chaste kiss on your shoulder, "he still needs me to win his case anyway, and if he ever tries to land a hand on you, I can always put you in touch with a colleague and start your divorce proceedings."
Divorce, the word echoed in your mind. You'd be lying to yourself if you hadn't thought about leaving your husband, even before starting your affair with his attorney.
"I hear those gears revving; you're thinking about it, are you?" Hiromi purred, the pad of his fingers skimming feather-light over your silken smooth skin, "Leaving your excuse of a husband."
His fingers reached for your sensitive bud, circling it in eight. The thought of you becoming a free woman and him finally being able to court you appropriately got Hiromi worked up, his cock throbbing in your sweet cunt. He let go of your wrists as he picked up his pace in you, his strokes deep and lusciously suffocating.
"F-fuck, I can't wait to be able to fuck you without going behind your husband's back," he groaned, jackhammering into your cunt. You gasped at his newfound pace, fisting the silk sheets underneath. With your mind fogged in lust, you cried at the aimless swat of his hips against your ass, your legs quivering and about to give up. Hiromi was taking you to cloud nine, curling your toes in pleasure and shutting your eyes with your lips parted, his movements drawing his name from your throat in broken sobs.
"it pisses me off to see you walk away three steps behind your idiot husband after trials," he frowned, his body shuddering at the clench of your coiling walls around his girth, cream rings of your arousal coating the base of his cock. 
"I think about you a lot, y'know? You and this perfect pussy of yours," he panted, kneading the fat of your ass, "do you also think about me when I'm not around? tell me."
Dizzy, you nodded, forcing your eyes to open and look back at his blissed-out face as he pounded your wet cunny. "Yesss," you slurred, pursing your wet lips into a pout, loving his strokes in your sweet spots and sending your nerves on fire, the band of coiling pleasure within you about to snap. "Hiromi, I wanna- lemme cum-" you whimpered.
Listening to your sweet pleas, he stammered, his voice dropping an octave, "Shit— Cum, baby, cum on my cock," Hiromi felt his dick pulsating at your spasming walls, also close to his climax.
Waves of pleasure washed over you as you reached your peak, collapsing onto the mattress in shattered breaths and your heart racing. Hiromi winced and pulled out, earning a whine from you at the empty feeling. Jerking himself off in erratic tugs, warm ropes of cum fell on your back down to your ass—your name on his lips as orgasmed, lolling his head back in pleasure.
The tangy smell of sweat and sex lingered in the room, the sounds of ragged breathing echoing. Fulfilled, Hiromi gulped, licking his lips wet as he plastered his body on the mattress to your side, pulling you into an embrace. "That was..." he sighed, still dazed from his high and his chest heaving, "...amazing."
SUKUNA
"Fuck- just like that, baby, bounce on my cock," Sukuna grunted quietly, squeezing on your waist as you fucked yourself on his dick, your ass juggling at each bounce. 
The sounds of smacking flesh and shallow breaths echoed louder in your ears than the indistinct voices from the TV. Wanton moans were drawn out of you as he guided your movements on top of him, his cock making you forget about everything surrounding you and focus on the sensations it sent throughout your nervous system.
"Damn, you know how to fuck— this pussy always feels so tight and incredible around my cock," Sukuna rasped, his teeth latching onto his bottom lip to quiet his grunts and hear your lewd sounds. Something about you crying out his name while your cunt sucked him in so deliciously always did things to him; it made him want to hear them more often than every two weeks as your encounters occurred.
A buzzing sound echoed from the side of the bed, bringing Sukuna slightly out of his trance. Your phone screen lit up, your boyfriend's name written on it, being the third time he had called you tonight. "He never gives up, does he?" Sukuna rolled his eyes and sneered, picking your phone up.
"Leave it. I'll answer later," you panted, waving your hand dismissively as you kept up with your movements atop Sukuna— feeling too good to care about some boyfriend you had.
Sukuna's hand travelled down to your bottom cheeks, squeezing the plush of your ass. "Nah, I think I'll answer now; you keep up riding my dick," he said, pressing the green button on your phone, "hello?"
"Hello? Who's this?" your boyfriend asked, his voice carrying bewilderment in his tone.
A wicked laugh came out of Sukuna's lips as he met your thrusts with his hips, drawing louder moans out of you. "I'm fucking yo' bitch. She's a real freak in the sheets," Sukuna answered, small moans escaping him.
"What? Y're fucking with me, right?" You could hear the anger simmering in the man's voice, befuddled, "cut the bullshit, who the fuck is this?" he reiterated, his voice sharp-edged.
Ignoring the question once again, Sukuna huffed, "I'm fucking your girl— Shit- you feel so good," an impish grin tugged the corner of his lips, pumping his shaft in and out of you.
Mixed sounds of your moans and his grunts were heard through your phone. After a pregnant pause, Sukuna spoke again, "She's mine now, got it? This pretty pussy loves taking my cock in, so fuckin greedy f'me," he sighed with pleasure, jaw-slacked.
"Alright, Imma pull up and beat the shit out of you," your boyfriend finally said before hanging up, a snicker leaving Sukuna as he heard him, not worried a single bit. In fact, he was thrilled by the idea of your boyfriend trying to fight him; that way you'd finally realize who you should be with.
He dropped the phone to a side of the bed, placing now both hands on your body, ravishing in the tightness of your cunt. "'kuna, you're gonna get me in trouble," you whined, looking back at him with your brows frowned in pleasure.
"What, scared he's gonna actually come here and 'beat me up'?" Sukuna mimicked your boyfriend's voice, not really worried, "Don't worry about that; I can fight," he answered, his abs clenching and glistening in sweat and other bodily fluids as he continued on fucking you stupid.
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folie à deux
or: the toxic ex boyfriend Ghost AU
PAIRING: Simon “Ghost” Riley x F!Reader 
WARNINGS: || 18+ only MDNI || Toxic masculinity || Possessive & obsessive behaviour || Slut shaming || Groping || Gaslighting || Implied & referenced cheating || Mildly dubious consent
w/c: 5.7k (Read on AO3)
a/n: this was supposed to be like 5 paragraphs, so PLEASE if y'all hate it i dont want to know
It starts with a knock on your front door when you’re only half expecting to see Simon Riley.
He even knocks with a sense of entitlement, and it enrages you.  Three hard raps, and that’s it.  He won’t knock again.  If you don’t open the door, he’ll kick it down to get to you—those were rules you’d learnt the hard way.  
You mentally reinforce your motivation when you fling the door open: You’re scared he’ll break your door down, again, and this time, when they try to evict you, Simon won’t be around to terrify them into letting you stay.
How on earth you’d ever found the prick attractive is beyond you in that minute.  Except, no sooner does the thought enter your mind do you dismiss it.  Of course you had—and still—found him attractive.  That had never been the problem.  
He wore his military career on his face, much easier to see than the chest candy he bragged about but no less attractive to you–scars and burns, healing and the not-quite healed bruises plain to see on his face, a cacophony of yellows and purples.  A nose that had spent more time broken than not, its slight curve most likely a combination of never having been set by a professional nor the opportunity to heal without being broken again.  A thin scar dissected his lip, went all the way up the side of his face to his brow, almost like someone had taken a knife to him, carved him up like a piece of meat.  You’d never asked, and it’s not like he’d ever volunteered the information.  
It just sat there along with the three thousand other things he’d deposited in the chasm that stretched between the two of you. 
“You…Jesus,” he breathes, and slams the door shut behind him, making you wince.  “Where are you off to, then?”
“N’ wearin’ that?” He prompts again when you don’t answer, motions to your body with his chin.  
You roll your eyes when he pulls you into him and plants a hard kiss on your mouth, ignoring your squirming.  “Fuckin’ about to spill out, little dove.” 
“Spill?  Simon, I’m sewn into this dress.”  You pluck at his shirt that has deliciously little give where it sits on his hard chest, leaving your palm there as a little treat for yourself.  “You would know.  You capable of wearing shirts your own size, or does the SAS make it mandatory to have your tits straining against them?”
When he doesn’t respond, you push away from him, and step back, crossing your arms against your chest, definitely not pushing your tits up slightly, and he mirrors your movement.  He’s leaning against the wall by the front door now, blocking your exit, and you can only roll your eyes at the foreseeable display of machismo.  
“Your stuff’s in the front room.  Grab it and go, I have to finish getting dressed.  I have plans.” 
“With a pimp?”
Back when you were blissfully ignorant of Simon’s penchant for keeping you destabilised at all times, unconditionally wanting the last word, his crass words would have made you sputter and struggle to respond.  Oh but you know him so much better now.
Now, the blatant transparency in his delivery just makes you laugh.  
You interrupt his next words with a wave of your hand and turn to retreat to your room.  “Get your shit and leave, baby.”  
You hear his harsh exhale at the dismissal, and once upon a time, the repercussions of dismissing Simon in the middle of a conversation would have excited you.  You used to do it to get a rise out of him, instigate him into chasing you around, fucking you silly when he caught you.  Now, you just do it because you can. 
“No need to be a bitch.  I’ll be on my way in a second, just wanted to check on you, little dove.”
Your laugh is breathy, and you have to pull your mascara wand away from your eyes so you don’t end up stabbing yourself with it.  “‘No need to be a bitch’ says the man currently being a bitch about me not telling him my plans.”  Your laugh is mocking when you turn back to the mirror.  “You ever tire of this routine, Simon?  Because it’s tiring to me.”
Your words only make Simon’s eyes soften, and he looks at you almost indulgently, patronisingly, as though you were a child throwing a tantrum to get an adult’s attention.  “Could never tire of you, little dove.”
“Stop calling me that,” you snap, but he only snorts in response.  
It’s all a game to him, you know that.  He makes it very clear how much amusement he derives from watching you fumble and fall, how much he gets off on the stress he gives you.
And yet, you’re drawn to him, every single time.  Every single time, you play mental gymnastics to find a reason to write off his bad behaviour because, well, it’s Simon.  He’s…like no one else you’ve ever known.  
Your choices have always been limited between a cruel, mercurial god and inane, paltry men.  
Except today.  Today you hold your response back, try not to rise to the obvious challenge.
“Come on then, I’ll drive ya.”
“Are you insane?” you screech.  “You’re not driving me to my date, you’re not driving me anywhere, what the fuck is wrong with you, Simon?”
A glimpse of his Adonis belt as he stretches his arms above his shoulders and cranes his neck from side to side briefly grabs your attention. 
“Don’t be difficult, little dove,” he gently scolds you, and your eyes snap back to his—yours wide with incredulity, his calm and collected in that beautiful, honey brown.  “What were y’gonna do, take the Tube with y’tits out like that?  If the prick ain’t pickin’ you up, I’ll take ya to him.”  He jerks his chin in your vanity’s direction and plops himself on your bed to watch.  “Come on, love, finish yer preenin’ then.”
“Preening,” you mutter under your breath as you turn back to the mirror.  “Fuckin’ weirdo.”
It’s only when you’re dabbing perfume behind your ears do you catch his eye just as he brings a cigarette up to his mouth, and you squeal.  “Simon!  The fuck are yo—don’t smoke in my bedroom!”
“Our bedroom—”
“What?!”
“—’n ya didn’t care before.  Y’wanna share, ‘s that it, little dove?”
“Oh my god.”  You turn around slowly, your hands against your lips, joined together as though in prayer.  “Simon.”
“Yeah, baby.”
“You don’t live here anymore.  This isn’t your flat, it’s mine.  This isn’t your bedroom, it’s mine.”
Simon just continues to smoke as though he hadn’t heard you, dark eyes taking the slow, leisurely route back to meet yours. “Y’look good, baby.”  His voice is hoarse, the words slow and deliberate and raspy, and…you can’t deny it.  The pull he’s always exerted on you, the undeniably ruinous sirens call—you burn hotter and brighter than accretion, you’re a helpless sailor caught up in his thrall 
“Simon” 
“Did’ya always look so good?”  The way he looks at you as though in a trance…you know he’s not listening, seeming to just be thinking out loud.  When he stands up, you take an automatic step back, then cringe when the vanity hits the back of your legs.  Nowhere to go to escape his looming presence.  “No…not like this. Somethin’s changed.”  He puts his hands on your shoulders and turns you around so you’re both facing the mirror.  
The back of your neck feels particularly warm as he pushes his entire front to your back, and you can feel him there, hard and insistent against your lower back.  When eyes meet in the mirror, he looks at you like you’re a puzzle for him to solve.  “Nothing’s changed,” you whisper.  “You’re still a dick.”
“Hmm,” he mutters, then lifts your face up with one hand around your neck, and brings his cigarette around to your lips with the other. 
Your instinctive inhale makes him shift against you slightly, and your eye twitches from how good he feels pressed up against you like this.  How he smells to you—that familiar mix of aniseed and icy menthol, fingers eking that potent hit of nicotine straight into you from where his fingers dig into your skin.  “Definitely somethin’ different.”  He pulls one strap of your dress down, and you exhale as he places one warm, lingering kiss on your exposed shoulder.  “‘S good.  Whatever’s different is good, little dove.”
“We can’t—,” you whisper, and his eyes glint at you with interest and arrogance through the mirror.  “We can’t do this.”  
“You’re so pretty all dressed up like this.  Always were so pretty.  So soft, and—” he inhales deeply at the spot just under your ear “—always smell so fuckin’ good.”
“You can’t,” you moan in response, but press yourself closer to him, anyway.
“But I can,” he responds gruffly.  “‘Nythin’ I like, little dove.  And I know y’like it too.”
“Fuck, just—”  He interrupts you by giving you another hit, and this time you turn around in his arms to exhale in his face.  He doesn’t even flinch.  “What are you playing at, Simon?  What do you want from me this time?”
Simon continues to look at your mouth as you speak, and almost as if on auto-pilot, slips his thumb into your mouth.  You want to bite him for his audacity, you almost kick him in the shin, almost almost almost…  But what you really end up doing is accepting it, licking the pad of his thumb and letting him push it into your mouth.  
Your initials on the space between the base of his thumb and index finger catch your eye—it’s a new tattoo, and you know this entire game is a ruse to draw your attention to it—but you don’t react.  You may be stupid horny for him, but you’re not stupid.
“Always such a good girl for me,” he praises, and it brightens you up on the inside, sparks hot and bright under your spine.  “Tell me, love…still me you think about when you touch your pussy?”
Your harsh exhale and slightly narrowed eyes are the only indication you give of having heard him at all.  In response, his thumb moves slightly deeper, sitting heavy on your tongue, and you let him.  
Your stubborn silence makes him chuckle, and he stubs out his cigarette on the ashtray you (still) keep on your vanity, pushing your dress up over your ass so he can grab your cheeks possessively.  The movement is so quick, so fluid that your protest turns to ash on your tongue when he finds bare skin and squeezes hard.
“Forgot somethin, did ya?”    
“No.”
“No?”  His hands grip you tighter and pull you harshly into him.  The angle makes you grind into his cock, and you know that he’s not even half as unaffected as he pretends.  “Gonna put out on the first date, then, like a slut?  Don’t remember you givin’ me any the first time I—”
“It’s not my first date with him.”
Simon pulls back to look into your eyes, and you’re graced by the first genuine smile on his face all evening—the most brilliant of Rayleigh scatterings put to shame.    “It is your first date, love.”
The blunt, matter-of-factness in his words gives you pause, your mind still coming to terms with what he’s just said, your heart starting to race at the barely concealed confidence about your whereabouts.  “How do you—what are you saying to me right now?”
“Truth, little dove.  Like I promised.”
The casual, off hand remark to one of the most devastating conversations in your life gives you whiplash and you have to physically shake your head to get rid of the feeling of something crawling up the back of your neck.  You put your hands firmly on his chest and push him away, and he steps back easily.  
“Are you…Simon.  Are you having me followed?” 
“Don’t need to.  I know you, little dove.”  He takes another step back from you and cocks his head at your dazed expression.  “Put some knickers on.  The white ones, y’know ‘em.”  When you don’t move, he motions towards your underwear drawer with an expectant expression—as though you’re frozen because you’ve forgotten where they are rather than because you’ve just learnt that your ex boyfriend’s stalking you.
When he crosses his arms, you’re jolted to action.  In a daze, you pick up the first pair your hands grab and pull them on.  He thrusts your purse at you, and leads you out your front door with his hand clasped tight around yours.   
You wish you could say that your ex boyfriend driving you to a date with another man is the weirdest thing that’s ever happened to you, but that’s not realistic for a life lived around Simon Riley. 
***
The drive is silent, but one big hand remains on your inner thigh.  His fingers are so long that they almost touch the seat on either side of your leg.  It feels invasive but it’s also familiar, so you don’t say anything.  Classic— he never had to try hard to get what he wanted from you.
When he asks you for a smoke, you light one up for him and stick it into the corner of his waiting mouth, and he kisses your fingertips as they retreat.  You still don’t say anything.  Instead, your eyes stay determinedly on your initials tattooed on his skin, his warm hand almost a brand on your thigh, and you think about your life with him in the .
The implication that things were normal in the before is wildly misleading, and a genuine disservice to the shit he’d put you through.   
Once upon a time, you’d been delusional about your place in Simon’s world; now it just leaves a bad taste in your mouth.  He threw special forces and taskforce and lads need me in your face every opportunity he’d gotten, and worse. Simon Riley was not a man who did or could be convinced to do something he didn’t want to—and you’d hardly ever asked for any explanations from him but still, the excuses were on the tip of his tongue, ready to be flung at you at Mach speed.
You’d bargained with yourself for weeks—oscillating between wanting to proactively end the relationship yourself or allowing its inevitable heat death.  He was one of a kind.  No one had ever made you feel like he had.  No one had fucked you like he had.
No one had fucked you over like he had either, but on good days, you show yourself some grace and let that thought slide.
***
You find yourself falling into old bad habits easily—you wait inside the car until he’s on your side, opening your door for you and practically lifting you out of his car.  
The warmth of his hands seeps through the material of your dress, through the skin on your hips, superheating the bones underneath.  He squeezes the flesh there appreciatively, and though his expression remains hidden to you, you can safely guess the smirking just by the creased skin by his eyes.  
“I never want to see you again.”
The words make Simon pause.  He considers you for a second, the smirk never dropping.  “Go’n, give us a kiss, then, if this is the last time.” 
“I would never,” you insist, finger poking at his hard chest, and he retreats from you, puts his hands up in mock-surrender.   “You’re a manipulative bastard, Simon,” you hiss at him.  “And I’m going on this date.”  With your piece said, you walk away from him.
“Never stopped ya, little dove,” he calls out, a hint of an aggravating laugh in his words.    
 You flip him off without even turning around.  “Drop dead, Simon.”
To your great disappointment, your words don’t inspire the heavens to smite him where he stands immediately, and when you quickly shoot one last look back at him over your shoulder, he stands against his car, arms crossed, looking for all the world like he didn’t have a care in the world.
Asshole.
It wasn’t even that Simon was a bad boyfriend to you—though he was certainly the fucking worst—it was the fact that a) he was a bad person and b) you’d become a bad person by osmosis.
Case in point: you wanted to leave your date mid-meal, battling the intrusive thought of just putting your drink down and walking out the front door, but you couldn’t even say why.  Your date had kindly acquiesced when you’d insisted on the worst table on the floor.  The one overlooking the car park.  The window overlooking the only car parked there—the massive black one, with illegally tinted windows and a suspiciously missing owner.
At least the bar was nice.  Great ambience, dim lighting and pretty interiors, it should have been the perfect first date.  Your date himself was fine too—nice enough with a sweet smile he flashed at you, politely having taken to talking at you when you’d made it clear with your apathy that talking with you wasn’t going to happen.  
After just two drinks, you start to have flashbacks—even an hour spent in Simon’s company clearly manifesting as literal madness—which was disconcerting by itself, but the uncharacteristic subject matter has you really worried.  Every time you blink, you see Simon’s face…or his cock…and when your date asks if you’d like to share dessert, you answer, “Simon…” before hearing yourself, and feeling the heat of shame dance on your cheeks.  Your date just looks confused.
A quick glance outside the window shows the empty car park and…nothing else.  No car.
Had he fuckin’ left?
The thought incenses you, and the irrational nature of the anger makes you feel even more shame.  Why should you care?  When had he ever done what you’d expected of him?  And when had he ever been there for you when you’d needed it.
Fuck it, you think.    
Maybe you were finally free of Simon and his toxic, shameless, unbreakable hold on your life.  Maybe it was time to move on.
You allow yourself a satisfied smile when, in what feels like divine approval of your plan, your date offers to take you home.
***
There are cracks in your ceiling that you’d never noticed before.
You resist the urge to wince, then try to moan but give up when it gets stuck in your throat, and your date misinterprets your sigh of boredom and discomfort as one of pleasure, choosing to go down on you with more enthusiasm than before.  Things could not be worse for you—the man between your legs is clearly in need of a compass and a map and trying so hard that you feel guilty about the whole thing—but you’re determined to tolerate it.  So that the point is made.     
When your date finally leaves, your shaky smile and poorly concealed look of relief convinces neither of you of a second date.  You suppose you should be grateful that he left without a fuss, but you’re just relieved that he’s gone.  You’re contemplating—holding your head in your hands while your elbows rest on the kitchen counter—when you hear him.
“This is pathetic, even for you.”  You turn around, and yep.  It’s him alright.  Sitting at your dinner table, your flimsy chair all but invisible behind his massive frame.  “Breaking in, Simon?  Seriously?”
“Y’gave me a key, little dove.”
“Yeah.  When we were dating.  A key that you’d returned?”  
When there is neither a response, nor any change to his posture, you turn around and start to pour yourself a glass of water.  Then change your mind and grab two whiskey tumblers and your decanter.  “Pathetic,” you repeat.  “How long were you planning this?”
His sudden breath on the back of your neck makes you exhale harshly, and he steadies your trembling hands by placing his on yours.  Together, you pour two glasses of whiskey, but his hands don’t leave yours even when you’re done.
“How was the date?”
“You tell me, Simon.”
“Wasn’t invited, was I?”
“It didn’t stop you.”
He places a small kiss behind your ear in response.  “No.”   His hands knead at your breasts and your head falls back to his shoulder with a sigh, and he grinds into you.  “Feel that?  What even your fake little noises do to me?”
“You were listening?”  The thought is…unbearably hot, and you stubbornly refuse  to examine it any further in your mind.  
“You belong with me, little dove, you know this.  You’ve always belonged to me.  All of you.  Every single inch.  Where would I go?”  
You reach behind you to touch him, and he’s thick and warm to the touch, even through the layers of fabric, and it’s familiar, it’s all so familiar to you..  “This is fucked up.  You were here listening when another man fucked me?”
In a quick succession of lithe, almost impossibly quick movements, he’s picked you up and placed you on your kitchen counter, one glass of whiskey shattering on the floor.  “Made your point, baby?”  
Your robe is off your shoulders and pooling around your waist in a second, and Simon doesn’t even bother hiding his smirk when he pulls off your panties and pockets them.  You don’t bother protesting.  It even feels like trouble when he runs a single finger over the seams of your cunt—you’re damningly wet and if you had enough withal to curse your body out for it, you would.
“You've got such a pretty pussy, little dove,” Ghost says as he fingers you, his voice half-muffled because he's pressing a possessive kiss to your forehead.  “And so wet baby, you’re dripping on my fingers.  All of it fo' me?  Or was it that twat, hm?” 
You're seething inside, raging that your plan backfired like this.  “It was him,” you say, before you can help yourself.  “You heard him fuck me, yeah?”  
“Fuck you?” Simon’s chuckle is dark and ruinous.  “He didn’t fuck you, baby.  He just stretched you out for me.  Good man. Saves me the work, innit.”
Before you can react, before you can breathe, he picks you up and throws you over his shoulder, picks up his glass of whiskey in his other hand, and brings you to your bedroom.  Fuck, your sheets are still rumpled, dress and bra strewn on the floor, sandals sitting like a death trap of heel and straps by the foot of your bed.  The room even smells of sex and the cologne your date had worn—it’s disorienting.  You almost feel bad.  Almost.
But…Simon’s presence is all over your bedroom too.  The smell of his aftershave lingered in the air, noticeable if you closed your eyes and breathed in deep.  Other signs too—the faint bitterness of his cigarette from earlier that evening, it’s corpse in the ashtray on your vanity.  When he sets his drink down on your nightstand, he sets it on the coaster you keep there—they’re strewn on almost every surface on your flat.  Mementoes from Simon from different countries he’d go to on deployment.  
“Told you he fucked me,” you say, cheekily—trying to dissuade your mind from leading you towards sentiment—and get a smack on you ass for your trouble.
“‘Course, little dove,” Simon drawls in response.  “‘N you enjoyed it too, yeah?  Tryin’ t’make me jealous.  Took him to the same place we used to go, huh?”  Another smack on your backside, this one hard enough to make you gasp.  “Think I’d forgotten, baby?  Fucked you in that car park, didn’t I?”
“Were you jealous?”
“Why should I be?”  He sets you down gently on the bed so you’re sitting upright, then takes a sip of his whiskey.  “Y’want this.”  
“I didn’t think you were giving me much of a choice.”
“I’m not.”  He takes another sip, and when he leans forward to kiss you, the whiskey floods into your mouth, rich and smoky and bitter.  He continues to kiss you and you have to swallow around his tongue, which makes him kiss you harder.  He’s a bully in every aspect of his life, and kissing you is no different.  His fingers clamp around your cheeks and you have no choice but to kiss him back.  Even in this he dominates you, trying to win even where there is no fight to be fought.
When he pulls away, your heart throbs at how he looks through the lights of the street outside pouring in through your window.  You’ve seen his face before, you’re one of the trusted few that can say they know what Simon Riley looks like, but it’s been a while since you’ve seen him like this.  The harsh lights from outside almost soften where they kiss the harsh angles of his face, where the sharp line of his clenched jaw disappears behind his ears, accentuating his thick neck.
He’s beautiful and cruel and bad for you and every adjective you can think of under the sun.
“Y’want this,” he repeats.  
“I want this.”
And then Simon moves so suddenly.  There’s no preparing for it, no accounting for speed that has no build up—one second you’re sitting upright looking up at him the next you’re on your back and he’s hovering over you, fingers making quick work of his zipper before, in one push, he’s buried in you.  Your breath feels like it’s literally been punched out of your chest.  He’s so deep in you, you can feel him in your throat—he allows you one deep breath before he’s got a large hand wrapped around your throat.  The one with your tattoo on it.
The thought of it incites something foreign deep in your belly, low and simmering hot—you can’t believe he’s tattooed your name on his hand after telling you that he didn’t think you were what he’d wanted.  
You can’t imagine your expression right now, but he tightens his fingers around your throat and it drags your attention back to him.  He’s gritting his teeth, his jaw clamped tightly shut while he grinds his pelvis into yours, each thrust driving you further and further away from him and towards the centre of the bed.  You don’t even understand the movement of his hips—you’re displaced and jostled from the sheer power of his thrusts—but the motion itself feels like it’s more of an up and down motion, dragging against your walls, punching into your G spot.  When your head falls back on a low moan, he jerks your body to alertness just by your throat, and you clench at the feat of strength even when he’s buried in you as far as he can go.  
Simon groans in response, the noise sounding like it tears through his throat on its way out, but you’re helpless to do anything at all, just trying to breathe through the foreign sensations inside you right now, clamp tighter and tighter around him, threatening to break.  You’ve given up trying to look up at him anymore, the pleasure making you squeeze your eyes shut, one hand intertwined with his by your head, the other clawing at his forearm.  
“Shit, baby, hold on, fuck, jus’ let me—” He moves to adjust you, grabbing one thigh to spread you open, push himself deeper inside you, when he freezes.  
“Wha—Simon, what—”
“The fuck is this?” His voice is pitched lower than usual, dark and dangerous.  You follow his line of sight and he’s transfixed, eyes unblinking, looking at a spot on your inner thigh.  You know what he’s seeing, and in the midst of everything that’s happened, everything that’s about to happen, you wonder if you’re seeing the evidence of the existence of a just God.
“You weren’t…you weren’t meant to see it.  It’s from ages ago…”  He reaches out a slightly trembling hand towards it, stops inches away from it—and oh this is better than anything you could’ve imagined—before he brushes two reverent fingers over the little skull you have tattooed there.  “Simon?”
When Simon looks back at you, he seems more determined, somehow.  Like the final part of a puzzle has clicked into place, somehow, and a decision has been made.
This time when he moves, it’s deeper, more powerful but equally as deliberate.  The hand around your throat moves to your face, brushing sweaty strands away from it, and framing the entire side of your face where it rests.  “Got my mark on you, yeah?  Want t’keep me, is that it?”
“I want…want to keep you,” you nearly whine at him, and his hips kick up, hammer into you, in and out, in and out— “Want to keep you Simon.  Want to be yours.”
He bends over you, his grip on your thigh unyielding, long fingers digging into the tattoo on your skin.  “Fuck, fuck, fuck, I—” He uses your neck to muffle his own sounds for a second and then leans to kiss you.  But it’s more than that.  You feel Simon’s surrender in that kiss—the acceptance of the inevitable, your months of torturous longing for your torturer finding release—and when you come, you bite down hard on his lip.
It feels like your body is hot enough to melt the world into soft, sepia tones around you, and you don’t even understand what he’s doing to your body right now as he fucks you through your orgasm.  He readjusts your hips as you come, and the slightest brush of the coarse hair at the base of his cock against your clit makes you vibrate from the shock of what feels like your second orgasm bleeding into your first.
And when he comes, he slams his hips into you like he’s trying to crawl inside of you.  His groan is long and tortured, and for a man who’s usually silent when he fucks, the sound is delicious.  You never want him to stop.  “Fuckin’ shit,” he murmurs, and traps you as he collapses on top of you.
In the aftermath, there is quiet.  
Simon lifts his head, once, to try to feel his way to the glass of whiskey on your nightstand, all while kissing you deeply.  Turns out, fucked out of his mind Simon is clumsy as hell, and so you grab it for him, draining it yourself before offering him the empty glass.
“Fuckin’ whore,” he mutters, unimpressed, before burying his face in your neck.  
“Says the man who slept with the entire British army in a matter of six months.”  You kiss his sweaty hair and his grip on your hips tightens.  “Bunch of slags.” 
“Don’t call my sergeant a slag.”
“Your serg—” you gasp, feeling your restart its pounding in its cage.   “Not Johnny!  You slept with MacTavish?  He fuckin—he fuckin’ offered to meet me for coffee so many times when we were broken up!  I thought he was being nice!”
“Was bein’ nice, innit.  Lookin’ out for his CO’s girl.”
Your head falls back to the bed as you stare up at the ceiling again.  “This is messed up.”  His casual tone feels like a barb, reopens old wounds and threatens to ignite a fresh wave of hostility inside you.  But before you can stew in your bitterness any longer, he kisses the side of your neck and moves off of you.
“Can’t keep doing this, little dove.”  He says, gathering your clothes from where they’re strewn all over your room.  
You get up on your elbows and cock your head, feigning innocent confusion.  “What do you mean?”
“Gonna have twats all over town stretchin’ you out fo’ me before I fuck you?”
“Why?  You offering to put the graft in yourself?”
“Maybe,” he mumbles, and when he stands up to face you, he’s got a cig hanging off the corner of his mouth.  “Y’got a light around here somewhere, can’t find mine.”
You roll your eyes, reaching over to the nightstand to grab one and throwing it at him.  He catches it deftly, and lights up his cigarette.  “What’s next for you then, Simon Riley?  Off to the pub to find the next victim for the evening?  Send me a recording of when you fuck her in the disgusting toilet?”
“Victim?  Shit baby, give me ten, we’ll go again,” he says, exhaling a cloud of smoke.    
“You’re staying?”
He leans forward, smushes your face with his large hand.  “You got me inked on you.”  You squirm away from him and he lets you go.
“It’s just a skull, Simon.  Not my initials on your hand.”  When his eyes narrow, you gasp theatrically and your hand flies up to your chest.   “Or was I not meant to see that?”  You lean up to pluck the cigarette from his fingers and take a long drag.  “Obnoxious, by the way.”
He leans forward and kisses you, hard.  You inadvertently end up blowing smoke in his mouth, but he doesn’t move, kissing you until you melt.  “Love you, little dove.  You're a massive bitch, though.”
“Pot meet kettle,” you whisper against his mouth.
You know what they say about history repeating itself.  You’ve been through this cycle before, you and Simon.  And you know what he promised you when he fucked you—he may have asked you if you’d wanted to keep him, but you hear what Simon doesn’t say.  And what he doesn’t say is that you don’t have a choice in any of this.  Simon operates like a bully, thinks like a bully because he is one.  Like with most other things, Simon brute forces your relationship, moulds and bends and twists to his liking, does not care if anything breaks.  You have no doubt that in two or three weeks’ time he’ll be across the world from you, bouncing someone else on his cock but it hardly matters.  You’ll get your lick back.  It’s what he’s taught you, afterall.        
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healmyhrt · 3 months
Text
⌗ out of it, c. sturniolo
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chris x fem!reader
summary: chris gets really drunk and begins to say things you and him both know he doesn’t mean.
disclaimers!: alcohol use, cursing, short
a/n: this is based in like the future like, chris has his own place n everything lols | also, we all know chris wouldn’t say these things guys, don’t take this to heart <3.
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“chris?” i call through the front door. he had been ignoring my texts and calls for hours so i thought i should come and check up on him.
i unlock the door with my spare key. “chris, im coming in. okay?” i push the door open, and see a trail of beer cans to the kitchen.
following them, i meet a very drunk chris. he removes a bottle from his lips, and stares at me. “well, shit.”
i step closer to him, taking a look at the mess around me. alcohol everywhere, cigarettes burnt out on window sills.
chris looked terrible. his eyes were red and foggy, his hair was a mess, and his shirt had stains on it, probably from the alcohol.
“chris,” i start. he interrupts me, “come sit.” he guides me over to the couch, swiping beer cans off of it so i can sit. i sit on the clean couch arm instead. “are you okay?”
he tilts his head at me. “dont say that. im fine.” i purse my lips together, and finally sit next to him. he leans in to kiss me, and i pull away.
“what? so now im not good enough to kiss you?”
“its not that, chris.” i look around at the mess that’s surrounding us, then back at him. “what’s going on?”
chris takes another sip to stall away from the question. i stare at him, with worry in my eyes. “dont fucking look at me like that.” i can hear the anger in his voice. chris gets up, walking around.
i stand, not taking my eyes off of him. “chris, you aren’t okay right now.” i walk over to him. “let me get you the help you need, baby.”
i attempt to place my hand to his shoulder, and he dodges it. “dont fucking call me ‘baby’, matter of fact, you should go.” his words slurring.
“im not going anywhere.” i reply. chris stares at me, an angry expression across his face. “get the fuck out.”
my eyes start to water at his words. but i try to remember its just the alcohol talking. “no, chris—”
“LEAVE!” he shouts at me. chris stomps toward me, his breath reeking of alcohol. “i love you, chris.” i whisper out.
“yeah? well i fucking hate you.”
i stay silent, and gently bite my bottom lip as tears trickle down my cheeks. “you don’t mean that.” my voice cracking as the words leave my mouth.
“yes the fuck i do.” he enunciates each word as much as he can. chris gets in my face, our noses basically touching. he looks down at me, anger in his eyes.
“i hate you.”
i shake my head as tears begin streaming down my face. chris scoffs. “i mean it with everything in me. i hate you. i don’t need or want your help, and im better off without you. so, go. leave.”
i lick the tears up, and look at him again. “say you don’t mean it, and i’ll go if that’s what you really want.”
chris slams the bottle onto the ground, glass flying everywhere. i hold my head in my hands, and start. crying uncontrollably.
i guess this reality checked him, because his face immediately turned soft. “baby?” i look up, my eyes now red from crying.
i fall into his arms, and his squeezes me tight. he moves us slowly over to the couch, and lets me cry into his shirt, (that smelled like alcohol).
“i am so so unbelievably sorry, baby.” his eyes begin to water. i sigh, and hug him again. “say you didn’t mean it.” i whisper into his shirt.
“i would never mean anything i said. i do not hate you. and i am 100% not better off without you.” he frowns.
i kiss him, and cry into his lips. chris tucks my head back under his chin, and cradles my head. letting me sob into his shirt, he begins to do the same.
“i was so out of it.”
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luna0713hunter · 7 months
Note
almost kisses that are interrupted by a third party with shanks? thank u 💗
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Author's note : this is the last request for the kiss prompt!!! I'm so happy i did this prompt cause all your requests were amazing and i had a blast writing them!!! Pls look forward to my new prompt that'll be opening soon!!!
"almost kisses that are interrupted by a third party"
Based on this prompt
Warnings : not much, slightly suggestive,age gap relationship,pet names as usual
*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘
"do...do you think they're gone?"
"i have no idea, princess. But i must say, I'm not complaining about our current... situation."
You groan and smack your captain on the side of the head and try to peek from the slight crack of the door.
"i cant see shit!"
"you dont need to get upset. The guys will soon find us anyways." A gentle hand rests on your shoulder and you relax slightly under the touch.
"cant believe they ambushed us like that." You groan and your forehead lands against the wooden door with a soft "THUD".
The hand on your shoulder moves until its between your forehead and the door;not letting you bang your head again.
"it happens,my love. I'm just glad we got out without a scratch."
"we ran,Shanks. It was humiliating."
"running is not humiliating. Fighting without a good reason to is." He rests his chin on your head and you feel his smile in his voice, "there's no need to fight when we don't have to."
Your sigh fills the small closet in the back of a crowded bar; that was one of the many reasons you loved Shanks. Unlike other men,his first choice was never violence. He rathered get beaten up and have drinks poured on him,but never starting an unnecessary fight.
Unless,his friends and loved ones were in danger.
You were one of the very first people who experienced how royal Shanks was;when one night a drunken man started hitting on you with the most inappropriate words ever heard,Shanks had stepped in and punched the man so hard,it had him flying back and laying down unconscious.
Maybe that was the first time your heart beated so hard and fast for the red hair pirate.
Years had past since then,and never,not even once, you'd left Shanks on his own.
"i know," you softly whisper and lean back until you feel Shanks pressing his hard chest against your back, "just hated the way they bad mouthed you."
"i dont mind,doll," he whispers back,like sharing a secret. Like you already didnt know how selfless he is.
Like you didn't love him already.
"well,i do." You huff and turn slightly so you can see his face in the dim light coming from the crack between the door, "you should've let me beat their ugly asses."
You feel his lips on the top of your head and despite your anger,your lips twitch slightly.
"what kind of man would i be if i let my princess fight my battles?" His arm wraps itself around your middle and pulls you closer to his chest, "i would never want my baby girl to get hurt."
"you know I'm strong!"
"i fully well know that. But sometimes the strongest pirates get hurt as well." His lips find their way to your cheek,and then your temple,making you squirm slightly upon feeling his stubbles, "and i would rather die than to witness that happening my dear."
You close your eyes; basking in his presence and warmth. The moment feels so precious,that has you holding your breath in fear of breaking it.
And you know Shanks feels the same way;with the way his thumb rubs your hip and his lips travel up and down your face. You flutter your eyes open,you eyes immediately find his lips. You lean closer,feeling his breath on your lips and you're closing your eyes-
Before a loud banging on the door makes you jump where you stand.
"Yo!" You recognize Yasopp's voice while trying to calm your heart from jumping out of your ribcage, "you guys in there?!we should get going while its clear outside!!"
You hear Shanks chuckling and his lips press a gentle kiss to your nose.
"continue this later in my room?"
You smile and press your own lips to his cheek.
"see you there, Captain."
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skyeslittlecorner · 2 months
Note
can i request relationship hcs with the avisos boys? i really liked the ones u did for the hades demons even though i dont like any of them that much after chapter 5 lmao 😭
Do I see our favourite family? 👀 Here we go! The scenario will be similar, but we will change the topic a bit. Hades had a ball, and here let's welcome a new fluffy member of the family.
This turned out to be longer than I planned, I hope you don't mind. I just love these guys too much-
꧁:・ ✡ ・:꧂
Bael circled his own Bermuda Triangle - kitchen, office, bedroom. You knew his daily schedule perfectly, you knew when he woke up, when he fell asleep at his desk, and when to get out of his way so as not to fall victim to his legendary cookies.
You quietly opened the door to his bedroom, the first rays of sunlight falling on the dug-out bedding. Bael looked so peaceful. He was sleeping deeply, his broad shoulders rising and falling with his breath, the muscles on his chiseled back twitching as he dreamed something. Despite his tight uniform, you rarely had this view as his back was covered by his cape and the chair. You came closer and combed blond hair which was scattered on the pillow.
“You know I hate waking you up.” You whispered, hoping he wouldn't hear. Just as you were getting up, you felt a firm grip on your waist.
“I'm awake…”
“Mm. Of course." He looked so adorably sleepy that you crouched down next to him and tapped him on the nose. “You should rest some more. Avisos can handle itself for an hour or two.”
He lifted an eyelid as if he was thinking about what you said. You tried to leave again, but he pulled you towards him. Despite being sleepy, he had a strong grip. You landed on his bare chest, radiating warmth and the smell of fresh bedding.
“This isn't sleeping.”
"It is." He wrapped his arms around you tightly, murmuring into your hair. “I have to be sure that I will get up soon... and that my alarm clock won’t run away.”
“I can sneak out as silently as a cat!”
“You probably haven't seen Hell’s cats.”
He kissed the top of your head, and before you could respond properly, you felt his breathing slow down. He was sleeping, so you kissed him on the lips for good dreams. Avisos can handle itself, and you in your boredom came up with a brilliant idea.
꧁:・ ✡ ・:꧂
Naberius looked at you like you were crazy when you told him what was on your mind. You were walking down the aisles of the pet store, right between toys shaped like angel wings or fetch pitchforks. You put into his basket one by one what looked the least poisonous and suspicious to you.
“Did I understand correctly… Do you want to adopt a cat?”
“Not me, us.” You made it clear. “He will live with you in the palace.”
He didn't look happy.
“Cat.”
You reached out and scratched his chin. He tried to be strong, but then he leaned his head back and his lips twitched happily from the petting.
“Yes, kitten. Because I already have the best puppy in the world here, with me. You will take care of him, right?”
“Maybe… He will have to be brought up so that he does not disturb Bael at work.” 
He tried to be strong, but you knew he couldn't say no to you. And in addition to the cat food (at least you hoped it was cat food), you discreetly added a collar that would go well with the black glasses and red horns.
꧁:・ ✡ ・:꧂
Amon helped you put out the pet shopping and arrange the room so that it would be ready for a new little roommate. He sat cross-legged in the corner, between the cat lounger and the food bowl, and read the instructions for the small water fountain you had just assembled. He clicked a few buttons and water began gushing from above and pouring down to the lower levels.
“Did you know it's a bird fountain?”
“It's also suitable for a cat.” 
His legs looked so comfortable. You couldn't resist. You brazenly placed yourself on his lap and wrapped your arms around his narrow waist, completely distracting him from the instructions. He hugged you tightly and started purring like a kitten himself.
“Nabe said he would help me raise her, but you all will be definitely switching places. After all, if you have patrols, you won't always be in the castle.”
Amon stroked your cheek. He completely forgot about shopping, and water from the waterer he turned on was spilling onto the floor. You tried to turn it off, but it splashed you in the face. As you snorted water, he quickly corrected the wobbly structure.
"Be careful, love, that's not how it's done. Come on, I'll help you.” He cooed, wiping your wet face gently. “Maybe I should fix it?”
“That's probably a better idea.”
You agreed, but when he leaned towards you with his love-struck smile, you wanted to forget about the waterer and pull him down to the carpet with you in a deep kiss.
꧁:・ ✡ ・:꧂
Stolas was your companion whom you took to the shelter. Despite your excitement, you tried to remain calm. You just didn't know why he kept boasting about how he would defeat any beast you chose, but everything became clear when you arrived. The enclosure where the animals roamed looked more like a coliseum full of wild beasts than a meadow with cute kittens. The smallest of them made Earth's lions look like meerkats.
“Just show me who to beat for you!” Stolas rubbed his hands together with aggressive excitement. “Who makes you sad?”
You sighed in resignation.
“I thought they were smaller. When I was shopping with Amon, all the things we bought… were smaller.”
“So it's Amon's fault? I knew. I'll kill him!"
"Wait!" You placed your hands on his chest as he was already turning around to find another devil. “I thought I could have a cat in the palace… but I see they are too big.”
He looked closely at your disappointed face, then pursed his lips.
“If you like animals, I can take you to an owl cafe.”
If he wanted to cheer you up, he made it. You tilted your head with interest.
“Will you turn into an owl yourself?”
"NO!"
You hoped he was lying. You needed a fluffy ball to cuddle up to. Either way, your mood improved significantly as you left the coliseum filled with beasts for a cozy cafe full of cooing birds.
꧁:・ ✡ ・:꧂
You were sitting at your desk, finishing writing down financial reports you wanted to help the Baels with. You've almost come to terms with the fact that you won't have a kitten when Beelzebub stormed into your room without warning. You stared at him with question marks on your face.
"I have something for you!"
His presence hadn't even dawned on you yet, and there was already a cardboard box on the table. He handled it surprisingly gently. Put it down slowly, as if there were porcelain tableware inside, even though it looked solid. It was a strange box, making sounds through tiny holes on the sides.
Beelzebub stood behind you, resting his elbows on your shoulders and folding his arms over your chest.
“Go ahead, you should check it out, I'm sure you'll like it…” He trailed off when, instead of reaching into the box, you took his hands.
“I'd rather have you than welcome gifts, you know?”
He fell silent for a moment. You couldn't see his face, but his voice had softened noticeably.
“You'll like this one. I promise. Open up, don't make her wait.”
You had a feeling you knew what you would find, and it makes you ticklish inside. When you lifted the lid, a pair of coal-black eyes stared at you from a fluffy muzzle. Kitten. A small, striped, earthly kitten. Your voice stuck in your throat as you squeezed Beel's hands tighter.
"How did you know…!"
“I'm everywhere and hear everything, baby.” He reached out and grabbed the kitten by the nape, just like its mother would. Little pet started meowing.
“Gentler!” You smacked him and took the fluffy ball in both hands. “Is this how you treat your new daughter?”
“My daughter?”
"Yes. Now that you have a baby, you have to visit us more often, you know?”
He leaned down and nuzzled his nose into your shoulder.
“As soon as this is all over.” He promised in a whisper so quiet it might as well have been your imagination. “I will never leave you again. I promise.”
You held the purring kitten to your chest with one hand and stroked Beel's soft hair with the other. Despite his giddiness, you felt that these were not idle words. Your heart sank at the thought that he missed you too. Whatever was going to end, let it end quickly, because all you wanted was to go to sleep next to him, knowing that you wouldn't wake up in an empty bed.
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dwntwn-strnlo · 10 months
Note
Mmk but clingy Matt while readers trying to put on makeup 🤔 Like he keeps bothering her and asking what certain things r
thank you sm for the request! love you ❤️
SMUDGED matt sturniolo
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. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 𝓈𝒾𝓃𝒸𝑒𝓇𝑒𝓁𝓎, dwntwn-strnlo.
↳ 𝐀/𝐍. help i loved the idea of this but im def gonna rewrite it bc i hate how i executed it
↳ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. matthew sturniolo x reader
↳ 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘. request!
↳ 𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃? yes!
youre currently sitting down on matts bedroom floor, doing your makeup. you and matt are going out later tonight, but you still have an hour till you leave, so you take your time.
you look into the lit up ring mirror before pulling your eyeliner up to your eye lid. but ultimately pull it away when you see matts reflection in the mirror. the boy peaking his head around the door frame.
"what you doin?" he mumbles when he sees you looking at him. he walks into the room, sitting down next to you. pressing his leg against yours, his body heat immediately radiates off him.
you turn to press a quick kiss to the side of his head with a smile. "im getting ready for tonight."
"can i sit with you? i have nothing to do and i dont need to get ready yet." he states, setting his hand on your knee. rubbing small circles against your skin.
"of course," you giggle, picking your eye liner up to your face again.
matt watches carefully as you apply it over your nude eyeshadow. "thats eye liner, right?" he asks, leaning forward to actually watch you, and not your shined reflection. smiling as the white light washes over your skin, accentuating your unique beauty that he loves so much.
with a slight nod, you finish your eye before responding. "it is," you laugh. picking up your mascara. brushing it cautiously over your eye lashes, desperately trying not to poke your eye.
he drops his head, resting it on your shoulder, eyes focusing on the two of youse reflection again. "and what's that one? i know it but i dont know it."
"mascara," you inform, applying it to your lashes with your mouth hanging slightly open.
matt giggles, "whys your mouth open?"
setting your wand down, you laugh too, "i don't know. it just happens."
you shut off the light, and lean back on your hands. smiling lightly before turning to look at matt. he lifts his head off your shoulder, smiling brightly at you. "hi," he giggles.
"hi, love," you smile.
he leans down, gently holding your chin in his palm. swifting you away into a sweet and soft kiss.
pulling back, he unconsciously chases after your lips, frowning when you don't lean back in. "i just did my makeup," you laugh. "i don't need it to be all smudged and have to do it again."
matt rolls his eyes, "what if i want to get your makeup smudged?" he teases, placing his hand again on your jaw.
you giggle, leaning in to kiss his nose. "well that would be mean."
"i could always do it for you," he smiless.
letting out a teasing laugh, you shake your head. "no way kid, i saw what you did to charli."
he groans, "that was unfair."
"why?" you giggle, pressing a kiss to matts forehead and then his cheek.
"because she's like an influencer," he says.
you stop pressing kisses to his face and pull back, furrowing your eyebrows. "and youre not?" you laugh.
"ugh, whatever." he sighs. "not what i meant."
laughing, you pull him in for a short kiss before patting his leg. "go get ready." you smile.
he stands up and walks to the door before turning around and looking at your lips. "might wanna fix that," he snickers, waving his finger in your direction.
picking up a discarded pillow off the floor, you chuck it at him, hitting him in the chest. "fuck off, matthew!"
TAGLIST
@slvt444smvt @thetriplets3 @p1harmonydelulu @stxrniqlo @ifilwtmfc @iha8you @oneirophobic @20nugs
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By His Command 1
Summary: you arrive at your new household to serve. (Handmaid AU)
Warning: this series will contain violence, dystopian aspects, rape and noncon, blood, coercion, possible pregnancy and other dark elements. Please read these warnings and beware.
Character: Lloyd Hansen
Note: you're screaming at me, why are you starting another AU and I got my fingers in my ears like na nana boo noo.
Oh and there may be more commanders to come...
Anyway, thoughts and prayers welcome for my lost soul. Also feedback and comments if you dont mind. Maybe a reblog. 💕💕💕💕
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You watch the cloud of your breath in the cold air. The grey sky stretches endlessly on, as flat as anything else in this pallid world. A white blur trims the edge of your vision, that every present brim, a facsimile of a halo. You are not a fallen angel but a disgraced sinner, sentenced to penance, fated to serve another's salvation.
You clasp your hands together, red gloves chafing roughly, wool scratching your raw skin. You look down at the scarlet ripples, the endless crimson that marks you for exactly what you are. You pull at a stray thread and let it fall away.
You raise your head and stare at the opaque screen that separates you from the man in black. The guardian drives on across the fields paled by an early frost, dried grasses wilted beneath the premature winter. You take another frigid breath and lean forward, hovering your hand before the small vent in the door. Nothing.
You sit back. You know better than to complain. There is no one for you to complain to. No one who cares. You are not a person with feelings and thoughts. You are a vessel, to be filled and emptied over and over. You repress a shudder and keep your welling eyes aimed out the tinted window.
You dip your head and hide beneath the broad brim of your white bonnet. You clutch your hands tight and wade through the mounting panic in your chest. The women who left the centre didn't often come back, and when they did, it was never pleasant. Still, you would give anything to go back. There you know what the worst and the best is.
You don't know much of what awaits you, only that it floods you with dread. A commander and his wife, but what else? Will he be cruel? Will she hate you? Will you be able to do what you were trained to?
You part your hands and bring them up your arms, hugging yourself. You can't remember the last time anyone held you. The last time anyone dared touch you. Even when you laid screaming before the other handmaids, hands bloody, back welted, no one dared come near you, no one thought to comfort you.
The SUV turns and you force your eyelids apart. You sniffle and wipe your nose with the coarse wool glove. There is a low stone fence that trails the long winding road towards a tall gate. The tires slow as your heart piques and you choke on terror.
At a halt, you hear the man's voice in the front seat, through the barrier that divides you. For order, for chasteness, for your debasement. You are not worthy. You are emblazoned as a blasphemer.
The car rolls on, jerking you back against the seat. A slow draw that brings into view shedding hedges, stone benches, a fountain, a lawn that expands before you. You watch the birds flutter, marveling at their peace, and a leaf drifts down in a calm path to the ground. A serenity that so starkly counterbalances the chaos blooming in your chest.
You veer around the curved arm of the driveway and once more stop. The engine rolls over and quiets. The front door opens and you flinch. Steps tramp and come around, a shadow awaiting you on the otherside as the locks slide back.
The guardian opens the door and you grab the red valise on your feet. You turn your legs over the side of the seat and step out, heels clacking off the hard stone. The man steps back, gripping the strap of his gun.
"Go," he nods his chin in the direction of the house.
You look over at the grand facades, stone and mortar in a centurion style, rooves high and looming, a balcony with a naked trellis below. You gulp and march forward, grasping the round handle of your bag with both hands. The man trails you, keeping you on course as his steps echo your own.
You get to the first step and raise your foot, setting in on the stope edge. The front door opens and steals your attention from the hem of your skirt. You look up as a Martha emerges in her green smock and apron. Her faces is blotchy and her grimace is deepset.
"Come, OfLloyd," she beckons you with a curt wave, "we must prepare for the Commander's return."
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Kitchen counter | A.V x Reader
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warnings: kinda smutty but like implied but also smutty? like heated kisses and stuff, also i’m gonna start working on felix and demetri drafts I SWEAR i’m just clearing the alec ones rn DONT HATE ME PLSSS 💓💓
also parts of this is inspired by a little Alec blurb written by @demetris-cocksleeve :)
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ʚɞ
You walked into the kitchen where you found all four guards, weirdly enough. You threw them a questioning look of confusion before continuing on with what you were about to do.
“Hello, love” Demetri teases as you attempt to move him out of your way to open the cupboard next to him, opting to just lean over instead. A growl came from across the kitchen as you grab the pasta you were reaching for.
“Don’t call her that” You hear the charming voice of your mate hiss as Demetri holds his hands up in surrender. He pushes off the counter after a hushed conversation with Felix, both of them leaving the kitchen in a blur. You place the bag of pasta down on the counter, walking over to Alec as you wrap your arms around him. He stiffens at the public display of affection though after a moment he relaxes and gently wraps an arm around your waist. You lean up to press a kiss to his cheek and hear a scoff from your right.
Looking over, Jane stands there with a sneered look and you pull away as Alec rolls his eyes.
“Do you have to be so stuck up, sister?” He crosses his arms as you hoist yourself up on the counter behind him. He moves to stand between your legs, his back to your chest making you wrap your arms around his shoulders.
“I’m not being stuck up. Maybe you two should respect that this is an open space and not be so… lovey dovey all the time.” She may have been a millennium old vampire but that didn’t change the fact that… technically… she was still an eighteen year old teenage girl, well at least when she acted like this you were very much reminded. Alec hit back with a snarky remark and she practically hissed at him before storming out. “Come find me when you’re done with her.” 
You snuggle closer into Alec’s back as you heard him sigh. Yes, he liked sticking up for you but that didn’t mean against his twin sister. You couldn’t help but feel guilty and you attempted to pull away slightly. However, his hands grabbed yours before you could, moving them to wrap around his waist. It was your turn to sigh as you began pressing apologetic kisses to his neck, a pathetic attempt at comfort.
“You okay, baby?” Your voice was quiet in his ear and he felt you try to sway him slightly, allowing you to do so.
“You know I hate when you call me that” He smiles over his shoulder and a cheeky smile makes its way onto your lips.
“You don’t hate it when we’re-“ He cut you off as he spun around, pressing his lips to yours.
“That’s quite enough of that.” He brushes his nose with yours, your breathing becomes shallow, seemingly entranced by him. He glances at your lips before leaning in and giving you a passionate kiss. His hands gripped your hips to pull you closer to the edge of the counter, deepening the kiss as you parted your lips slightly. You felt him press against you and let out a small gasp.
He pulled away to press kisses down your neck, occasionally dragging his teeth gently along the tender skin, each kiss pulling small moans from you. You feel a growl rumble in his chest as he uses his index finger to lift your chin, forcing eye contact with you.
“Stop with the little noises, my love, or I might have to take you right here.” His words bring heat to your cheeks as your face flushes, suddenly becoming hyper aware of him pressed against you, absentmindedly letting out another small groan at the thought and he raised an eyebrow. “Is that what my dirty girl wants, hm?”
You bit your lip as his hands wander your thighs, lips against the pulse point in your neck. Not only have you become aware of his close proximity, you were also suddenly well aware of how open the space is… much as Jane had mentioned earlier and you suddenly hesitate, not sure if you were wanting anyone to walk in unannounced during your rendezvous. He smirks as if he can sense your thoughts. His voice is teasing as he watches you intensely.
“It would be such a shame to waste such precious moments going all the way to our bedroom.. don’t you agree, amore?“
You whine, his words igniting a fire in your lower abdomen and his eyes harden. He tuts at you as if scolding a puppy before he speaks again.
“Did we not talk about your whining? What did we say?”
“It- whining won’t get me anywhere.”
“Good girl, my sweet. Now, relax. Let me take care of you“ He smirks as he presses a passionate kiss to your lips again. You knew you were so in for it… all you could hope was that you’re not interrupted.
ʚɞ
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thiccc110q · 6 months
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Strange…. (Reiner Braun x Reader)
Reiner angst story
Summary: Reiner falls in love with reader, when he wasn’t supposed to. He felt like a sin, but it felt good. Once thing turned bad, the reader is left heartbroken. 4 years later…
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Reiner felt bad for doing this, he knew the consequences of falling in love with the enemy from the other side. Annie and Berthdolt warned him about it. But as usual, he didn’t listen to them. 
He didn’t want keep hearing the truth.
With that, Reiner fell in love with you, the moment he laid eyes on you. 
He then got to know more about you. 
Your mother and little sister died during the fall of wall Maria. You were devastated when you witness their death, and especially when you couldn’t do anything. With that, it only left you and your father. Which, thankfully he survived. 
Your father was terrified when you told him you wanted to join the scouts. But he understood your reasonings. Him dropping you off the campsite, watching his little girl growing up to be a strong woman.
Once you told Reiner your story about that day and the reason why you joined, he tensed up. He was mostly silent.
He was thinking how sorry he was, but yet…. There was no other choice for him.
As the years goes by, the more you guys got closer. 
Him consulting you with griefs of the fallen soldiers. Also hiding the fact how much he wanted to confess what he was really there for…
What hurt you the most the night when he confessed his love to you.
That night was night to remember.
It was the night after Annie came out as her female titan form.
He secretly gave you a note, telling you to meet him in the back of the barracks. 
You saw him sitting on the grass, looking up on the stars.
He turned around when he heard your footsteps approaching. He got up and opened his arms to you.
You smiled softly and walked towards him.
He hugged you softly and carefully since he was tall and big. 
He noticed that you were shaking. So he pulled apart and saw you were crying.
“Hey hey, whats going?” He lifted your chin up, he saw tears flowing down from your eyes as you had a look of sadness.
it took you a good while to look up. You took a deep breath and started explaining, “I’m just so tired of seeing so many… people… die….because of this war. I feel like we can’t do anything for it to stop. And… I don’t want to lose anyone…..especially you..Reiner” You spoke softly. 
He tensed once again, hearing your confession about this whole expedition and the war. He couldn’t bring himself to tell you…. He hated himself for that. But instead, he did say,
“I know what you’re going through… dont worry… and dont worry about me Y/n. You know this, and ill keep saying this. I’ll protect you from anything. You are my everything, and ever since I laid eyes on you, I just know something inside of me told me to care, protect, and love you. I just want you to know that no matter what happens, please know that I love you…” His eyebrows furrowed while speaking. His tone was deep, calming, and reassuring to hear.
Your tears kept coming in when you heard his confession. It felt a relief knowing there was someone supporting you.
The both of you leaned towards at each other, your nose touching his. “Is this ok?” He ask for reassurances.
You nodded. Both of you closed your eyes and leaned in. You felt his soft lips on on your lips.
As said, it was a night to remember.
When Reiner and bertholdt, you saw the ‘true’ Reiner. You felt betrayed by him, then you asked yourself, was this all an act. Was your love towards even real? Did you even love me…
As the months went by, you went into depression. You questioned so many things that you wanted answers for. 
4 years later,
After the whole invasion of both Marley and Eldia. Then the rumbling, you had to face and work with Reiner in order to stop Eren. You couldn’t even look at him, not even the slightest. 
Armin eventually told Reiner how after the whole him betraying thing had took a toll on you. You became more protective of yourself. He also found out that your father died from an illness that he was fighting for pretty long time. He felt sorry for you, so sorry. He wanted to go up to you and say so many things, like in the past.
When it was the night where Hange cook stew for the group. Yelena spilled mostly everything what she knew of everyone. 
“And here we have the stone cold Y/n, you came from a beautiful family. Sad how they’re not here anymore. It’s like your hiding how truly weak and wrecked you are to fall in love with a enemy-“ Yelena cocky attitude gets caught off from Reiner.
“Shut up Yelena. Nobody here wants you to talk.” He defended you, or at least tried.
You finally looked at him surprised,. He took noticed but you quickly looked down at your stew.  He sighed in defeat.
“Ah, then we have Reiner Braun. I don’t know why you would want to fall in love with someone who you knew you killed their family…” She goes on by spilling the Marco incident. 
That night was a disaster. 
But Reiner still wanted to talk you…
When you guys were about to leave the air craft, he grabbed your shoulder. You turned to see who it was, but quickly glared at him. 
He sighs in defeat, “Can I please talk to you?”. He desperately ask.
You tensed up by hearing those word but quickly relaxed them and the nodded your head.
You turned around to hear what he needed to say. 
“Y/n…. I’m so so sorry…for the pain I caused you…I want you to know that it was never an act. It was all real… my love was real… I still care about you…. I still want to be the one to hold you and to protect. And please take your time…. And I’ll understand if you don’t want to talk to me ever again. I just… wanted to let you know… I love you…” 
He was crying while he poured out his feeling. You finally saw him, what he truly was. You lifted your hands to wipe his tears. 
He looked at you in a surprise.
“We’ll see after this whole thing Reiner….. I stilled had hope for this to come back…” You finally said as your lips quivered and eyes tearing up. You opened your arms to welcome him a hug.
He accepted and hugged you. With hat hug, it felt a huge relief for the both of you. You left him kiss the top of your head. You guys held on to each other until it was time to depart.
Once the while rumbling ended. Reiner ran to see you struggling to walk since you go back from turning into a titan. You a huge weight onto to you, and then relaxed. You started crying hard, saying “I tough I wasn’t gonna make it” or “I was worried about you”. He turned you around and kissed you so deeply and hard. You kissed back.
That kiss meant everything for the both of you…
After the rumbling, Reiner and you found a small place for the both you. Two years later, he finally proposed. Having Mikasa as your maid of honor, since she has been there for you. Even after Eren death. And Reiner made Jean the man of honor. And then Levi walked you down the aisle with his cane. It was beautiful. Then 3 years later, finally had a kid of your own. 
With that, both of you and Reiner couldn’t be happier than ever.
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poppy-metal · 2 years
Note
okay poppy but what about calling eddie 'daddy' teasingly for the first time? do you think he'd be just as flustered as steve and like look away and laugh nervously or would he be evil about it and hold your face and lock eyes with you and make you say it fr
hes a menace about it. almost makes you regret even saying it with how much he teases you, brows raised and wiggling. "ohhh? I'm your daddy now? do i get to give you a curfew? do my corny jokes make you wet, babygirl?" and you're immediately shoving him off you from where he'd been making lewd kissy sounds and roll your eyes.
"forget it!" it'd been stupid anyway. but the moment you stand up you're tipping back down from where he hooks his ringed fingers at the collar of your shirt and promptly yanks you back to his bed.
"oh no you dont."
the momentum makes you fall all the way back until you're laying flat and eddie ceases the opportunity to slip over you, hands braced on either side of your head.
his eyes still hold that teasing glint, but they're more heated now. a little serious. you feel yourself flush even as you press your palms to his chest and push weakly, "release me." you try and make the situation a joke again, feeling silly. "unhand me at once."
his lips twitch but he leans forward, his hair making a dark curtain around the two of you as it falls over his lithe shoulders in inky waves. his necklace almost hits your nose with how it sways over you. you smell his minty breath from when he'd just brushed his teeth. the humor leeches out of you. your fingers curl in his faded metallica tank.
"mm" he says, like hes considering you. "no, i dont think i will." he looks down your body, at the way your legs had naturally splayed to make space for him. "daddy likes you right where you are."
even though the word sends a flash of heat through you, you roll your eyes. "you're stupid. it was a joke anyway, eddie-"
"am i laughing?"
his tone is so serious. oh no. its that tone. the deep one. you swallow hard and he looks at you like hes waiting for an answer and suddenly you're feeling very very small under him. you shake your head in answer, because well, he isn't.
"dont think it was a joke at all, sweetheart." he says conversationly. he leans up so hes on his knees above you. he doesn’t have to ask you to stay where you are, you just do. he trails one of his hands down your breastbone, to your tummy, slipping under your top. "think you've wanted to call me daddy for a long time now. everytime i had my mouth on your pussy, everytime i made you cum so hard you cried, everytime i called you baby, you thought about it, huh?"
he pinches your hip when you're silent.
you squeeze your eyes shut, hating how well he knows you but loving it at the same time. your cunt is practically weeping at this point. pulsing and hungry between your legs. "y-yes." you confess, because hes right, the fucker. its not your fault hes amazing at taking care of you.
"aw," he coos. "that's real sweet." he pats you now. "turn over."
you blink up at him, confused and lust drunk. he just grins, his two pointy teeth reminding you of a vampire.
"you didn't think i was gonna let you get away with keeping this all from me, did you? what happened to open, honest communication? come on. over."
you pout, wanting to roll your eyes but its like eddie senses the desire before it even happens because hes reaching over to grip your chin, leaning over you, his nose brushing yours. you think hes going in for a kiss, lean into him to accept it but he just says. "i wouldn't give me attitude, princess. you're gonna roll over on your tummy, raise your tight little ass in the air and you're gonna count each spank daddy gives you. okay?"
your mouth is dry. your pussy isn't. "okay."
a quirked brow.
"okay, daddy."
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ch6douin · 3 months
Note
I was inspired by pictures of cats on the aftermath of meeting their owners or random people who love cats with lipstick on. Imagine players in their world with their lil plush counterparts and one night after being given a little too much booze by demi characters are seeing their plush counterparts covered in lipstick marks. Player is seen with smeared lipstick the same shade.
Victor is fucking unsure of what to do. He’s hiding in his room, face pushed into his pillow. Laying on his stomach and swinging his feet. Victors plush is seen admiring its kiss marks. Also wick probably got a kiss mark on his forehead. Everyone but victor getting a kiss smh
Andrew is still reeling from spotting his plush self coated in lil kiss marks. They make eye contact. Andrews like “Huh?????” His plush counterpart says nothing but lowers its head almost bashfully.
Ganji is both sorta flattered but also probably one of the ones trying to figure out how to clean his plushie off. Not until after he’s done marking this down in his memory tho.
Emma has the same reaction as victor. But probably is seen skipping around holding her plushie self. Is in a good mood for remaining week.
Also i wanna add Demi witnessed all of this and had the time of her life. The mighty player being a very very affectionate and cuddly drunk is one thing she had not been prepared for but my god. Cutest thing ever. Only one of the survivors to be given a kiss on her forehead. Got some good cuddles too.
Freddy plush is only one to be unkissed. Freddy plush is seen to be bitter about this and has been a bully. Freddy acts like he dont care but it keeps him up at night. Fuck freddy. All my homies hate freddy.
Oh god that is so cute anon (all my homies hate freddy too)
The thought that you spared some time to pepper kisses on the soft material of plushies that resemble them makes some of them absolutely smitten. Are you trying to send them an indirect message? Does that mean that you...you wanna kiss them? Are these your hidden intentions?
Thanks to you, they cannot help but panic whenever they are alone with you. Some of them are pretty good at pretending not to, but Andrew for example? Every time you move towards him you can see the way he looks away and scowls in embarrassment. Yes, embarrassment, he is not mad at you surprisingly. And clueless you don't even know why some of them are acting so weird because you don't remember anything. Demi is happy with the outcome, she had the privilege of seeing you in a vulnerable state no one else ever did, and she got real kisses too.
"There you go. Run around or whatever you have in mind..." Ganji murmurs, messily stuffing his pocket with the washcloth he was just using as his plushie jumps from his lap and scurries away with enthusiasm, Ganji figures out that it is about to run around the manor looking for you out of all people. Even he didn't know why the plushie was so attached to you, it was squirming out of his lap just a few seconds ago, earning an annoyed grunt from Ganji who just wished to clean the evident lipstick marks from its grumpy face. Why did that thing like you more than himself? No matter how much he contemplates, nothing comes up to soothe his confusion.
Then, he is thinking of these kisses much to his dismay. How they were scattered over its chin, cheeks, eyebrows, nose...lips. And he knows that it was you because he decided to pay attention to you and let his eyes linger and there it was, the same tone of those goddamn lipstick marks. He knows that you pressed your soft lips all over the little bundle of energy and let it stumble its way back to him, so dizzy and lovesick. Lucky thing—no, he did NOT just think that. There is nothing else to do besides slumping on his chair with a sigh, hands running through his curly hair.
He doesn't want to let his guard down, however, it's so painful not to think of having you plopping your lips against his instead.
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(that was supposed to be MEE bro)
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ace-of-gay · 1 year
Text
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Extra itty bitty
Stucky x little reader
956words
Warnings: age regression, paci, bottle, nursery,
Little names like little star, baby etc. The title daddy for bucky and dada for steve as the caregivers. Little reader is in a newborn mindset, age regression can be voluntary or involuntary if you dont understand i suggest either not reading it or educating yourself on the subject
Dont like it dont read it.
You are responsible for your own media consumption especially after a warning.
No hate will be tolerated, all hate will be deleted or even blocked
No pronouns weight or skin color mentioned
Edited to the best of my ability
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《~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~》
Bucky and Steve encouraged your age regression knowing it’d help you in the long run.
They’ve seen you smol from six to one and occasionally younger but never as young as you are today, from Impending stress and being stuck big for a couple of weeks they knew at some point you were going to be extra smol and possibly very emotional but they were prepared for anything.
Anything in all regards so when they woke up thus morning to you buried into Bucky's side, mouth agape and paci fallen somewhere between your body and his.
Seeing you little and all cuddled up to one of your daddies stole their hearts, they both absolutely cherished it so very much.
Bucky tried to get up carefully not to nudge or shift you but the slightest feeling of movement woke you up with a gasp, before your chin started to wobble and a wail broke from you.
Eyes clenched shut, arms haphazardly flailing outward to find such comfort you had before.
It clicked quickly to both of them that you weren’t just smol, you felt tiny, equal to a newborn.
Bucky out of fear of hurting you hesitated eyes big in shock, he was prepared but he had no idea how to care for you in a newborn mindset, if you’re going to have bigger needs or if your likes and dislikes would be the same.
In the few seconds he was in shock Steve had crossed the room to Bucky’s side of the bed, softly cooing to help calm you, picking you up making sure to support your head he smiles to himself, swaying side to side to soothe you.
"Hey little star, did daddy’s startle you while getting up hmm? That’s okay, he didn't mean too"
Swaying with you, your head on his shoulder, eyes closed, on hand clutching your dadas shirt and the other clasped around three of his fingers.
"Hey button I’m gonna need my hand back?"
Bucky chuckles feeling much more aware of the situation and what he needs to do, he goes and grabs a paci and a lovie with a rattle in its head.
Bucky helped unwrap your hand from Steve’s and replace it with the lovie, touching the paci nib to your lips you instantly take it.
They both head out to the living room where seats himself and you on the couch, while Bucky finds his way to the kitchen.
You lean back a little to look at him, he grins back at you "you’re just the cutest" he announces before giving you scattered kisses across your nose and cheek, causing you to trill and coo behind you paci, dropping your lovie you pat both hands against his chest causing him to scatter kisses again followed by another trill and happy screech.
He calms you down and taps the button of your paci "give dada kiss?" you stare at him with no idea what hes saying  until he taps his lips and you realize.
Basically falling forward you tap the button of your paci against his lips giving him a paci kiss.
Just a moment later Bucky walks in with a warm bottle of milk you instantly know what it is and you open your mouth dropping your paci.
Being passed from Steve to Bucky’s lap he lays you across his lap with your head layed in the crook of his elbow, giving you the bottle to feed from, your eyes close, giving your bottle all your attention until Bucky rubs your tummy and pulls the bottle away for a moment, "hey there little firecracker you should slow down before you get a tummy ache" and giving you back the bottle.
Eventually finished and having opened your eyes once more Bucky takes the bottle placing on the side table and helping you to sit facing him, pressing your body to his he pats your back to make sure there’s no extra bubbles in your tummy to upset it.
Grabbing your lovie he shakes it in front of you catching your attention, the clicking rattling mesmerizing you.
Steve walks back in wearing day clothes taking you and your lovie into his arms giving you a kiss before doing as Bucky was and shaking the lovie and than tapping its smile against you nose making a kissy sound, he does this several times over when you give your lovie a kiss back squealing in joy.
you take the lovie from him shaking it wildly before shoving it against your face causing him to laugh. Bucky returns in his own day clothes, watching you, trill and coo in delight, its now time for you to be changed.
They both make their way to your little room where you keep all your stuffies, little clothes, toys etc.
Bucky shuffles through the closet keeping in mind your favorite color and your activities of the day and choses your outfit accordingly.
Helping you out of your night clothes into day clothes freshening you up for the day.
They both sit down on the floor with you in Bucky’s lap.
Steve going through the toys, they play with you until your eyes begin to droop again, deciding its best to lay you down after you fall asleep, Steve goes to dim the lights and turn on the star projector.
Bucky swaying back and forth soothing you to sleep he sets you down in your bed in your little room, giving you a paci, tucking you in and last but not least to turn on the baby monitor.
They leave the room to go about their day as you nap, going about the routine multiple times making sure you completely happy.
They love being your daddy and dada even when something they don’t expect shows up.
《~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~》
Im new to writing this young but its as valid as any regression age and deserves more representation
Im drawing a stuffy every day this month, as a reason/ goal to make it through the month because January is hard for me every year.
If youd like me to draw one of your stuffies let me know and id be happy to! For example heres my first three, 1 is mine, 2 is a friends and 3 is another friends
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Note
I DONT KNOW THE SPECIFICS BUT SOFT DOM!MINHO?? like it could be the reader just in need of being doted on or something and turns into sex or something 🥹
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Pairing: Minho x Reader
Genre: 🌶️🌶️🌶️
Word count: 1k
Warnings: 18 + MDNI, Oral sex, Soft dominance, orgasm denial.
A/N: thank you so much for your requests.... i am loving soft dom minho so much we defiantly need more of him
When you came home today, Minho was the last person you expected to see. “What are you doing here?” His eyes became soft as he saw your tired eyes.
“You haven’t texted me all day," he said, cutting carrots.
“Sorry, it's been so hectic." You are still confused about why Minho would visit you. He wasn’t your boyfriend. You were just playing buddy.
“Did we have a play session booked, sir?” You said, placing your bag on the hook.
"No. You didn’t answer my texts,” he said, raising an eyebrow at me.
“So you let yourself into my apartment because?” The corner of Minhos' mouth turns into a smile.
He placed the knife down as he walked over to you, putting his finger under your chin. “If you read your text messages, you’d know,” he said, lifting his chin to look him in the eyes.
He turns back towards the kitchen. You can’t help but look at how his ass looks in the slacks hugging his thighs. Curious about the text he sent you; you open your phone.
Minho
“What are you doing tonight? I’m coming over.”
Minho
“Hello?”
Minho
“Are you ignoring me?”
Minho
“I'm willing to give you the benefit of the doubt.... but I know where you hide the spare key, remember.”
You giggle to yourself as you read the last text he sent.
“Go wash up dinner is almost ready," he said, not even looking up from the chopping board.
………
After having a quick shower, you throw on a T-shirt and panties.
“Sit,” Minho says, gesturing at the dining table full of food.
“Why are you here, Minho?" you ask, placing your hand on his chest.
“Does my little kitten not want me?” He says, kissing your nose.
You sit at the table. Minho plates your food and sits beside you. "Are you not eating?" Your eyes widen.
“My kitten has had a hard day. I want to make sure she eats first." He grabs a scoop of rice and adds some kimchi to it before feeding it to you.
“Oh, this is so good… thank you, sir”, you smile while covering your mouth to chew your food.
Minho pulls your hand down by your wrist and kisses your lips softly. “I will always take care of you," he whispers.
You and Minho finished eating, so you took his plate to the sink to wash up.
“So, tell me about your day”, he says, turning you around and trapping you between his body and the sink.
Minhos's veins bulged as he gripped the bench as you told him how stressful your job was. He brushes a string of hair behind your ear. "Kitten," he says softly.
“Yes sir”, you reply.
“We need to talk about you ignoring me” his mouth forms a mischievous smile.
You wrap your arms around his neck as your lips hover over his. “Do we?” He chuckles as his hand rests on your hips.
“How many times do I need to tell you? I hate being ignored,” he growls. "I'm going to have to punish you,” he says, brushing his lips.
“Punishment…. What's that?” You are just being cheeky to him now; Minho acts tough, but deep down, he’s a softy. Even during your play sessions, he checks in more than most dom would.
“Don't”, he growls as his lips clash with yours, his hand sliding down to your ass. You grin against his lips, your hands running through his hair. He pulls away, a smirk on his face. He knows he can't stay mad at you for long.
Grasping the backs of your thighs, he lifts you up to wrap your legs around his hips. He stops kissing you briefly. You trace your lips down his neck as he walks you to the bedroom.
Placing you on the bed, he kneels on the floor, lifting your legs over his shoulders. He kisses down your thighs. His kisses are passionate and gentle at the same time as he continues moving down your thighs, teasing you as he moves. He looks up at you with desire. You can feel the heat radiating from his body as he explores every inch of your skin with his lips.
His hands move up your body to your hips, gripping them firmly as he kisses his way back up. His breathing is heavy, and you can feel his desire as he moves up to your lips, connecting with them in a passionate and deep kiss. He pulls back with a mischievous smile on his face.
"You are driving me crazy." The words send goosebumps across your body.
Minho lifts your shirt slightly, letting the cool are brush across your skin. Minho licks down your breast flicking your nipple as he works his way down your body. His touch and tongue send tingles throughout your body, and his words send you a wave of pleasure and anticipation. You can't help but feel excited about what he has in store for you.
He traces circles around your navel with his tongue, his hands skimming along your thighs as he moves lower. His hot breath sends shivers through your body, each touch and lick more tantalising than the last. You can feel your heart racing in anticipation as he explores every inch of you.
Placing a kiss along your underwear line sends a shock up your body. You giggle as Minho's eyes lock with yours, and his lips move closer to your body. The pleasure builds until it reaches its peak when Minho finally devours you.
Your hands gripped onto the sheets as Minho eats your pussy like he’s been starved. Sucking and flicking your clit with his tongue as though this may be the last time he does this. “You are so good tonight”, you moan, causing Minho to press a smile into your heat.
Bunching the sheets in your hands, you arch your body, causing Minhos tongue to lick up your pussy to your clit.
Your vision blurs as Minho reaches under you and stabilises your body while holding onto your ass. "Please, I want to come", you whimper under his touch.
Minho stops immediately. You feel yourself coming down from your high instantly, your eyes opening as you start breathing heavily. "next time.... think about this moment before you decide to ignore my text."
Taglist: @daceydeath @bakedlilgoonie @krishastumblernow @cakeracha @9900z @uwuitsjungwoo @armystay89
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