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#There's never been a moment you were forgotten
tarjapearce · 20 hours
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Papa, You're Getting Old
Soccer Family! Miguel x Reader
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Warning: Fluff, slight smut, suggestive towards the end, introspection, body perception and insecurities. Married couple rants and moments, no proofread.
Summary: Miguel finally notices his white hairs, comfort ensues.
A/N: Like Miguel, got a mini crisis when I spotted my first white hairs today 🫠. Then remembered mom had them around my age too so jsksk. Then remembered (x2) I had this one sitting forgotten in my files jsksk, been forgetting this AU lately :'). Help.
A/N 2: Nearly done with the moving. So we're back, I guess? jsksj.
Soccer Family Masterlist
Papa, you're getting old.
Gabi's words had unintentionally pierced through his skull, engraving with emphasis the old part in his brain after his girl found out the couple of white hairs peppering his wavy locks. He was getting older.
Fourty years of his life had gone by within the blink of an eye. When did time got itself some wheels to roll faster? Who gave it permission to do that? Yet Gabi's words lingered in his thoughts longer than they should.
He was getting old. And the silver strands popping here and there, discreetly in his gorgeous hair you loved sinking your hands into, were the irrefutable proof to understand time never stopped, not even a single second.
For the umpteenth time, he brushed his damp hair away to see if he discovered more of them, and to his bad luck, he did. Specially on the front and side bangs.
He scowled at his reflection and pursed his lips. His body still kept the musculature his younger self nurtured. He truly never believed people whenever they said that exercise kept you active and young looking.
And besides the greying hairs on his head and some on his chest, the fine lines turning a bit more prominent on his features, he looked almost the same.
The same man you had been sharing a good chunk of your life with. Almost sixteen years to be more exact if you counted those two dating years. And now he was growing old.
Miguel didn't want to admit it, but sometimes his age reminded him that his body wasn't the same anymore.
You'd often find him sleeping midway in the couch during movie nights, or his office, whenever work from home was done. Sometimes, his body would ache out of nowhere, but in truth it was mostly his bad posture due his size.
Other times, his grumpiness ran rampant through the day, leaving his coworkers to deal with it, cause he didn't have the heart to pollute his home with his bad vibes. A term  Gabriella kept including during the conversations at night to talk about her unlikeable classmates.
And now, he was glaring at his reflection for daring to do such thing as graying. Even the happy trail you loved to nuzzle had a couple of white hairs.
"You're winning that staring contest, mi amor."
Your little laugh, earned a brief chuckle from him as his shoulders slumped, and if almost sixteen years of knowing eachother had taught you something, was to perfect to a T the understanding of his body language.
You came closer and hugged him from behind, keeping his towel around his hips in place while spanking his plump ass in the process, earning another airy chuckle from him.
"Wanna tell me why, you're glaring harder at yourself this time?"
His arm wrapped gently around you and caressed your waist, pulling you closer to his chest. Yours and his reflection in the bathroom mirror staring right back.
"I'm... getting old, mi reina."
You blinked before looking up at him to have a proper view of what he meant.
"More like aging like a fine wine, Miguel."
"No. You don't understand. Look at this," he pointed at the pluck of white hairs peeking out from his roots, "I didn't have them a few months ago and now I've got a bunch of them. Everywhere!."
You smirked, "Everywhere?"
"Mi amor." He warned and you giggled, pulling him down for a kiss.
"Relax, they look gorgeous on you."
"Oh, do they now?"
With a sigh, you took his hands and gave him that look, he knew by heart as a 'really?'
"I've known you for... How long?" It was your turn to hold onto his narrow waist, holding him exactly the way his hands held yours at the beginning.
"Almost sixteen years." He mumbled, still glueing his eyes on the decaying version of himself.
You nodded and looked at the mirror. Together and close, like most of your pictures together. As always.
"Basically almost half of your life. I met you when I was twenty one, gave birth to our Gabibi by twenty three, enjoyed her for ten years, then we almost made Benjamin in the car."
He snorted and nodded, tittering silently at the sudden memory of the cops calling you out in the lookout spot.
"Almost." He mumbled and you nodded.
"Almost, yeah. But we made him! And look at him, being the smartest boy in his class."
Miguel nodded, fond of his boy's achievements.
"And now we have Rosie. Crawling and trying to walk up in every room we put her in."
"Remind me to baby proof the stairs."
You smiled and smacked his ass, "What I'm trying to get at, Papa. Is that, those white hairs in your head and body are only a beautiful proof that you've lived and loved the right way. Look at us."
You pulled him down for a peck, and cupped his cheeks, making him to look your way.
"You, Papa, mi amor, mi niño hermoso, are the best everything I've ever get to experience. And I'm honored to be the one that you're growing old with."
His eyes softened and his hands trapped yours to then kiss them.
"I'm having white hairs too! Like, the other day a kid called me señora to get me pass his ball. SEÑORA!"
His chuckle turned into a soft and genuine laugh.
"Like, the audacity!"
"You're my señora." He murmured in the side of your head, kissing it afterwards.
"Damn right I am." You nodded proudly," Like we're Mr. and Mrs. O'Hara for a reason."
His smile turned sweeter as he placed your hands around his neck and sat you before him in the sink, looking down on your eyes.
"Would you love me-"
"If you were a worm, yes. I would."
"Cállate" he laughed and cleared his throat, "I mean, you... You still want this?" He pointed at his graying hair and chest.
"That question is offensive in itself."
His eyes darted away, but your soft and gentle hands made his gaze to hold against yours again.
"I'd love you if you were bald, had extra pounds, all tattooed, piercings and stuff, a worm, hell, I'd love you the same if you were an alien."
His brow quirked, but snorted, genuinely amused at your rambling.
"I'd love you the same even if we're going through natural changes as growing old. And yes, I'd still fuck and make love to you all the same." Your hands rested on his hips.
"Oh really?"
"Obviously. That makes me worried though. You're entering a dangerous zone where women see you even more handsome. And I'm not one to be jealous, but all of this," You tapped his butt gently, "is mine."
He pecked your lips with a loving laugh. "I'm all yours. And you're pretty jealous."
"Well, yeah, I'm not sharing your dilfness with anyone. Not when I have these for myself." Your hands squeezed his firm butt and spanked it, he pursed his lips, trying his best to suppress a bashful smile.
"And I'm pretty sure in a future our caretakers would find us having sex in the most random of places in the hospice."
That pulled a merry laugh out of him to then kiss your lips.
"You're crazy."
"For you, always. But in all truth, they'll have to put me in quarantine, because I'm still jumping your bones. Even if I have to use a cane, or ask for assistance to the nurses."
"You'd be lucky if still works."
Your eyes rolled and your thighs pulled him closer to you, between your legs. His teeth bit softly his bottom lip as your hands roamed up his chest, eyes widening partially at the sudden bold move.
His soapy clean smell tickled your senses, after all, you had caught him post shower.
"Trust me, it works wonders."
He groaned when your hand slid between the folds of his towel, cupping him with a light squeeze.
"Yeah?" He half mumbled, half moaned into your lips with darkening eyes. Your touch ever delicious, and sparking the arousal only you managed to ignite in his body. Your scent remained forever etched into his brain, almost conditioning him into enter a needy mode whenever desire oozed from your pores.
You nodded with a needy 'hmm' while your hand stroked him, as if with every movement you'd jerk and caress away all those insecurities out of his mind and body.
"Definitely, mi amor."
His hips stuttered into your gentle grip, heaving a deep and shuddering breath hovering over your inviting lips, relieved and proud to see your eagerness to have him. Gray hairs and all.
The silver strands mattered little, specially when you were set into worshipping and honoring your vows.
"I think I'd love to test it's performance, just to make sure."
A crawl rolled down his spine upon your words. He loved when you talked in his language, it turned him on im such a way he didn't know it could make that part of his cortex tingle. But this moment, had him delivering sweet pecks and kisses down your neck, drunk in your softness and want for none else but him.
You still wanted him, flaws and all. He still made you a mess. And that made his cock to twitch.
"Shall we go to the testing area then, mi reina?"
His flushed and broad tip poked urgently between your clothed folds and inner thighs, hoping to slip in your scorching tightness and wreck you completely, like in his younger years.
However, as much as he wanted to take you right there, the privacy of your room offered him more space to bend and meld you at his whims. Without saying much, he threw you over his shoulder and rushed to your bedroom, thrilled for the upcoming long hours of exhaustive, mind splitting testing.
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Dibs
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Summary- Eddie meets someone quite interesting on restock day at their favorite music shop
Genre- Fluff
Warnings- None :)
Tag List- @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @munsonology @esme-viridian @gvf23 @wheels-of-despair @goatsmcgee @flawiette
(my tag list is always open, please let me know if you’d like to be added 🫶)
Word Count- 1.7k
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“Restock day.”
Eddie’s eyes shot open as his hand gripped the phone, nearly pulling the cord straight out of the receiver as he shot out of bed.
All he needed to hear was those two words and he was given the adrenaline needed to get himself out of bed and get ready all within the span of five short minutes.
He had finally finished pulling his shirt over his head before reaching back for the forgotten phone laying on his mattress,
“Ready in five!” He shouted to Grant on the other end, not knowing wether he had hung up or not.
His hair was still a mess, and he was certain the jeans he grabbed from the pile of clothes on his floor definitely still had dirt stains all over them, but he didn’t care. It was restock day at the local record store. That’s all he cared about.
Once a month he and the rest of the guys would wake up early and head over to be the first ones in line before the store opened. They’d be up and ready to go with their lists in hand of what to look out for, knowing that if they didn’t leave with at least one then there’d be hell to pay.
Eddie sat on his stoop, ready to go for whenever he spotted Grants car pull through the park entrance. He wasn’t out there for more than a few moments before hearing the gravel crunching under the wheels of a car that was definitely going too fast for those types of roads. They’d get a few dirty looks from a couple of older residents as they left the park, but it was a price they were willing to pay for being able to still get there on time.
Eddie ran up as soon as he could see the rusted bumper on the front, hopping into the back seat next to Jeff.
“Still on time?” Eddie asked as he fixed himself in his seat.
“Still on time.” Grant said back as he looked to Eddie in the rear view mirror.
“I think if we gun it on the back roads we’ll get there earlier than planned.” Gareth said as he turned from the passenger seat.
“We already go at least 70 on these,” Jeff argued, “let’s not try and kill ourselves like last time.”
“Last time wasn’t my fault!” Eddie laughed, “I was being a good samaritan and letting those ducks pass the road.”
“You slammed on the breaks so hard i almost flew through the window.” Jeff said, earning a laugh from the boys up front.
“I think i still have a rug burn scar from the seatbelt.” Grant laughed.
After a quick drive and debrief of the records they were looking for, Grant quickly pulled into the parking lot. Each let out a sigh of relief as they saw that there were only three other cars in the lot, a few people gathered outside the door. They got into their spot and jogged to join in the small group waiting to get inside, thankful that they got there before the swarm of cars and a few kids on bicycles entered the lot. Within five minutes the parking lot was filled and there was a line that reached almost out to the street.
They paid no attention to the crowd behind them, doing their best to patiently wait for those final agonizing minutes before 10 am. When the doors were finally unlocked it was like some of the people behind them had never been in public before.
They were shoving past to get to the newest pop releases, and the boys paid them no mind as they headed over to the much less crowded rock section to scan through the full bins of the owners newest finds.
The boys scattered, each of them looking through the various bins and crates, moving onto the next as soon as they finished flipping through them. Eddie was in the zone as he flipped through a few older records he’d seen time and time again, not even noticing someone flipping through the same bin on the opposite side. His fingers moved quickly and stopped as soon as he saw it.
Alice Coopers new album was finally out, and he knew it had to be his the moment he heard ‘Prince of Darkness’ playing in that John Carpenter movie. He grasped the top of it and turned to show the guys, but he was pulled back as he felt it being tugged in the opposite direction. Eddie turned back to see who was trying to get this record from out of his hands, and he stopped for a moment when his eyes met yours.
He didn’t know what came over him.
A girl, a really pretty girl, was stood at the other side of the crate of records, holding the top of the record on the opposite side. And you weren’t letting go.
The boys glanced over, Eddie already having grabbed their attention before only made them stare. He was just standing there. Standing and staring.
Your eyes were locked onto his. This same scenario has happened to you countless amounts of times. You’d spot a record or a tape in a shop the same time as someone else and waited to see who would give in first. And it was never you.
But this one seemed different to you.
He wasn’t like the other guys that had gotten into this situation with you. He wasn’t moving his eyes over your body or trying to get a peek at the logo on your shirt to see if you were even a fan of this kind of music. He was just looking at you, with those deep brown eyes that you couldn’t help but look into.
All you could do was look at one another, waiting for the other to take their hand off the record to finally get it into their hands. And there’s no way in hell you were going to give in.
The rest of the guys watched the interaction from their spots at the crates, their eyes widening as they watched Eddie slowly take his hand away from the record.
He smiled to you as he let his hand drop.
“All yours.” He nodded.
You looked down at the record in your hands and looked back up to him,
“What’s your name?” You asked him.
His eyes widened for a moment, taking a quick glance around to see if he was the one you were asking, earning a giggle from you.
“Eddie.” He said, pursing his lips, knowing that the guys were no doubt going to rag on him for not only letting go of this record, but letting go of it just because the girl on the other end was pretty.
He knew they’d do the same, he was just the first to do it.
“Thanks Eddie.” You smiled and looked him over before walking over around the crate up to the line forming at the counter.
Eddie watched as you walked away, smiling to himself as he went back to sorting through the records before him. The guys finished looking through their crates and slowly made their way over to Eddie, their records in hand, ready to head up to the register while Eddie still had nothing.
“What the hell was that?” Gareth asked as he stood next to Eddie.
“What? I’m sorry, should i have just ripped that out of that hot girls’ hand and said ‘dibs’?”
“No, i’m just saying you gave that up so easily,” Gareth glanced back over at you in line, “all for a girl?”
“A HOT girl. And who am i to deny a hot girl the right to listen to good music?” Eddie laughed to himself.
“Well good luck trying to find that record again,” Jeff said as he handed Eddie the Anthrax album he asked them to keep an eye out for, “a bunch of these have multiples but i don’t think i saw any more of that Alice Cooper record.”
“I’ll find it again. And if i don’t, it wasn’t meant to be.” Eddie shrugged as he got to the last record, pulling it out as soon as he recognized the Tesla logo on the front. He held it in his hands and took the Anthrax record from Jeff as they went to meet Grant in line.
Eddie glanced around and saw you at the front of the line, scribbling down something on a little piece of paper in front of you.
“How’d the search go?” Grant asked the guys as they huddled around him in line.
“Fine, except for the fact that Eddie gave up one of the only albums he was looking for to some girl.” Gareth groaned.
“What’s so wrong about that?” Eddie pleaded.
“She still here?” Grant asked Eddie, with Eddie quickly pointing you out as you finished up at the register, “Damn… Good call on that.”
“Thank you! Finally someone gets why i did it.” Eddie exclaimed, not noticing you approaching him until he felt one of the guys nudge his arm.
You smiled as you stood before Eddie, holding out a little piece of paper to him,
“Here.” You smiled as he opened it, watching his eyes widen a bit, “Just in case you ever wanted to borrow it.”
Eddie and the guys stayed quiet as they all looked at the slip of paper in his hands.
It was the written out receipt for the record you just bought, your name and phone number scribbled onto the front. Eddie quickly looked up to say his goodbyes, but by the time he was pulled from his trance you were nowhere to be seen.
They hadn’t even noticed the line moving in front of them until they heard a shout from someone behind them. They shuffled forward, Eddie neatly folding up the receipt in his hand and placing it onto his pocket with a smug grin on his face as he looked back to Gareth and Jeff,
“Which one of you was complaining about me giving up that record?”
The two of them were silent, Eddie laughing to himself as he turned to move with the line.
He looked down at the piece of paper in his hand, quickly putting it into his pocket to keep it safe as they stepped forward with the line.
There was nothing he loved more than restock day.
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cordeliawhohung · 2 days
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pet!au part 7 | ghoap x fem!reader | tag list
imitation of flesh
cw: non-con, smut, unrealistic anal, fingering, degradation, cum eating, dark content, dead dove: do not eat
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The only scrap of clothing you have clinging to your body as you lay on Simon and Johnny’s bed is your collar. 
Somehow, you feel more naked with it on than you ever did with it off. It’s an embarrassing reminder that your body no longer belongs to you — a proof of ownership to a man who can hardly seem to stand your mere existence. Your fingers ghost over the leather and you feel it bob with your throat as you swallow. The urge to rip it off is strong. Tear through that leather and rid yourself of the incessant reminder that you’re trapped. It’s so easy for you to undo the clasp and toss it into some forgotten corner where you’ll never have to worry or think about it again — but you don’t. No, there is very little you can do besides lay there when you have two hulking figures between your open legs. 
At least you’re not the only one who’s naked, though that only gives you nominal reprieve. Johnny’s clothes were ripped from his body with the same urgency as yours were, and you feel your stomach flutter at the sight of his hardened cock. His leaky, puffy tip bounces as it throbs, begging for something soft to bury itself in. You’ve seen it plenty of times before, but it never gets easier. Simon sits behind him on his haunches, fully clothed, bored eyes flickering back and forth between the side of his face and your exposed body. 
Scenarios begin to tear through your mind, making your stomach flutter and drop through the floor. Johnny has had his fun with you plenty of times over the last few weeks, but it’s never been anything as… formal as this. Every time he’s put his hands on you, it’s always been a spur of the moment. Something he does when he can no longer hold himself back. Tearing you apart like a sacrifice. It’s never been anything like this, and the darkness in Simon’s eyes doesn’t offer you any comfort. 
“She’s so pretty,” Johnny says with a shudder. 
Simon’s hands trace along Johnny’s waist where they slide to the front of his stomach and then dip down to the thick, dark patch of hair at the base of his cock. For hands as large, brutish, and scarred as his, his touch looks light. Delicate, even. Johnny jumps in excitement as he wraps a fist around him and begins to lazily tug at him, purposefully ignoring his needy red tip. 
“That so?” he challenges. His lips brush against Johnny’s ear, and you watch as those deep blue eyes roll slightly into the back of his head, eyelids fluttering like butterfly wings. You squirm at the sight as a deep shame eats at your chest — you are a product, a show to be enjoyed — but you know better than to move too much around sight-based hunters. “Like havin’ a soft toy to play with? Somethin’ to sink your cock into? Bet you wanna fuck ‘er right now, yeah?” 
Johnny’s eyes stay glued to your body as he nods his head. “Aye, I really do.”
“Yeah, needy fuckin’ mutt. Go on. Play with ‘er a bit, but keep this fuckin’ cock dry, yeah? Get yourself nice and worked up f’me,” Simon orders. 
Ardent eyes blink down at you as Simon frees Johnny’s cock from his hand, and the man descends upon you like a ravenous plague. A squeak leaves you without permission when his lips crash against yours with enough force to knock your teeth out, and your whole body jumps as he paws at your chest. Your tits are so sore from weeks of abuse that you can’t help but whimper into his mouth as his fingers contract and relax over and over again, rolling the soft flesh between his hands. There’s no escape. You are surrounded, both by a stranger and his prison-like bed. 
This is nothing new. Johnny’s always been easily… excitable. All you have to do is grit your teeth and take it until he dry humps you long enough to get off or gets bored and abuses your mouth. You often think of your old job bar-tending while he has his fun. Anything to get you away from the present. How to make an old fashioned? How many seconds does it take to fill a pint? You try to recall the acrid taste of the air, and the way condensation glistens on the bar top. Usually it works well enough to keep yourself distracted.
It doesn’t work tonight, though. Not with those dark eyes peering from behind Johnny, murky and menacing. As Johnny gets to work giving love bites to the underside of your jaw, you make the terrible mistake of glancing at Simon. He’s got one hand on the small of Johnny’s back like it’s the only way he can keep the man leashed, and the other is pawing at his cock through the thick fabric of his jeans. You can make out the clear, meaty outline of it, and you find yourself silently praying that his eyes don’t wander too far from Johnny. You’re certain Simon would break you if he decided to fuck you himself. 
“Ow!”
Your yelp is sudden and piercing as pain blossoms in your left nipple. It ebbs and flows with your pulse, as if the sting is supposed to be a reminder that you’re still alive. Johnny leans back in astonishment, as if he can’t piece together why him pinching and yanking on your nipple would ever rouse such a reaction from you, but then he does it again, this time to the right. You squeal once more, and your hands move to cup your breasts, hoping to deter him from antagonizing you further. 
“Johnny!” you whine.
“Do that again,” he says, pupils blown wide. 
You squeeze your chest more, as if you can fold your body in on itself and vanish completely if you try hard enough. You blink a few times as you attempt to process his request, but all you can muster is a puzzled look. 
“Say my name again,” he clarifies, voice darker and more husky than you’ve ever heard it before. 
Humiliation courses through your body, forcing your bottom lip to tremble as you writhe under his gaze. It’s easier when you don’t have to participate. When you can just lay there and take it and pretend it doesn’t exist. There’s a special kind of hurt to be found in the way he’s trying to torture you now. Simon’s eyes meet yours from over Johnny’s shoulder, and you try your best to keep your composure lest he get upset at you for keeping his adored pet waiting. 
“Johnny…” you mumble once more. 
For a moment, you fear that your performance is too forced. Something so faux that even Johnny’s slow, horny brain can see through. It’s not satisfying enough. Instead, he groans as he descends on you again, tongue lavishing over your breasts and chest bone as he pushes back against Simon, ass against his clothed cock, going lower and lower along your abdomen. 
“Goddamn angel. Sound so sweet sayin’ my name. You’re perfect. So perfect, Bonnie,” he groans against your skin. “I’ll fuck you good ‘n proper one of these days. As soon as Simon lets me, I promise. For now… just… let me have this.” 
Whatever question you have bubbling up in your throat gets smothered with a gasp as Johnny’s mouth lands on your cunt. A hot, wet tongue laps at you, sliding all the way from your clenching hole to your clit. It doesn’t feel good. It feels messy, and disgusting, yet he laments at the taste of you. His lips and tongue work in tandem, not for your pleasure, but for his. Muted sensations rumble between your legs, but nothing’s connecting. All the wires are cut, but Johnny’s still trying to send signals through anyway. 
Everything he does to you — suck on your clit, hold your hips with a bruising grip — all feels searing. It’s torching your skin, melting you into mush, because if you cannot feel pleasure, then you can certainly feel pain. Things only get worse when you realize Simon’s grunts are sounding in terrible cacophony with Johnny’s. Once more you make the mistake of glancing at him, and you realize he’s got his own cock in his hand now, lazily pumping that monster. It’s incredibly thick and terrifying; something that fits the brutish and colossal nature of your captor. You glance away, turning your head to the side with a look of disgust you attempt to drown out with a forced moan. 
Just pretend, just pretend, just pretend…
Suddenly, it all ceases. Simon pulls Johnny back by his collar, forcing his mouth off of your cunt with a wet pop, before he’s pushing him into your chest. Lips wet from spit and what minimal amount of arousal he was able to rip from you smears against your tits as the poor dog pants.
“Plan on eatin’ her alive, Johnny?” Simon goads. 
He chuckles against your skin as he nuzzles your chest as if he’s trying to get underneath your skin. There’s something about his laughter that almost makes him seem more human than the dog Simon tries to force him to be. Whatever it is, it makes your heart lurch, but it doesn’t tug on it enough for you to forgive him. You bite into your lip as your arms wrap around his neck, searching for a stability you don’t think you’re going to find, yet so desperately crave. 
“Oh, I’d like to,” he coos. 
All Simon does is hum in response as he reaches around Johnny. You jolt when his hand brushes against your thigh, and he shoots you a glare in warning before pushing your thigh back. Trepidation hangs so thick in the air you nearly choke on it as you helplessly feel his fingers brush against your sex. Soon, it’s no longer a gentle brush, but a forceful intrusion as he dips them into your cunt. 
Johnny’s spit allows him to enter you with little protest, but it does nothing to ease the burn that ails you as Simon’s thick fingers split you open. Your eyes screw shut in discomfort as you do your best to hold back a sob. Instead of pumping in and out of you, his fingers dance as if looking for something inside of you, all but tearing you apart in the process. They churn, and scrape and claw. He does not care to draw out moans or other sounds from you — he cares only to aid himself. The heat of the burn that ravages your cunt forces your skin to perspire and your vision begins to tunnel. 
Your only saving grace is that Simon finally seems to have found what he was looking for, and he yanks his fingers out of you with little concern for your body. Tense muscles flutter as you try to force yourself to relax, to calm your tendons before they snap free from bone. Even in the dim light of the bedroom, you can make out the wet, gooey sheen on his fingers as he turns his attention to Johnny. He whimpers into your skin as Simon wipes the sloppy mess around the tight ring of his ass, not stopping until there’s proper lubrication. Strong arms snake underneath your back where needy fingers hold onto your shoulders, as if you’re the only thing grounding Johnny at this moment. 
All you can do is close your eyes and pray it’s quick. 
“Been a long while since I last fucked you, yeah?” Simon teases, fingers still taunting Johnny’s needy hole. “Look atch’ya, puckerin’ around nothin’ like a dirty fuckin’ mutt. Gonna be a good boy and beg? C’mon, you used to beg for this cock all the time. Go on. Beg.” 
Johnny’s body trembles with want, and it rings throughout your body, numbing your senses and rendering you useless. His nose nuzzles into your breast bone before he turns and rests the side of his head just above your heart. You’re certain he can hear the muscle trying to tear itself apart with how fast it’s beating. 
“Please, Simon. I’ve been a good boy,” Johnny whines, following Simon’s orders to a tee. “I need it, need it so bad. Missed you so goddamn much, I just… f-fuck, yes, fuckin’ christ, thank you, thank you.” 
As Simon presses into Johnny, the weight on your chest grows heavier to the point of suffocation. Desperate fingers claw at your shoulders, and you force yourself to stay quiet and take it. Whimpers sear into your skin as Simon keeps going, and going, and going until he bottoms out, and for once Johnny seems content. Praises and gratitude continue to fall from his lips as his body rocks against yours like a poorly tethered boat against a dock. There is little remorse for Johnny as he’s split apart, but he seems to enjoy the burn more than you ever could. 
You don’t dare to peek over him. All you can do is screw your eyes shut tight as you bury your face into the overgrown strands of his mohawk. 
“Such a tight fuckin’ arse. You really are a pathetic mutt, aren’cha?” Simon shames. Despite his harsh words and tone, Johnny whines in confirmation. “Gonna be a good boy ‘n take it then, yeah? Go on. Tell your precious Bonnie how good this cock is makin’ you feel.” 
And he does, like the obedient animal he is, but you don’t hear any of it. You feel the rocking of your body as Simon’s speed picks up, and the slick sweat that builds between your bodies, but you’re too far away for his words to reach your ears. Right now, you’re back in that old bar you used to work in, wiping down grimy tables and filling hoppy drinks. The sourness of the alcohol and the acidity of the cleaner assaults your nose even in your daydreams, and you feel your stomach twist at the scent. Dull music thrums somewhere on your left, and someone’s waving at you so they can pay out their tab. 
That bar had been nothing but a prison to you before, but now you can’t help but hate it even more. Would you have ended up here, underneath two brutish men, had you gotten that office job you interviewed for? Was the outcome always destined to be the same? Teeth ache in your mouth as your jaw clenches at the memory of your attempt at escaping that life. So smart, but not smart enough — always one step behind what everyone else is asking from you; the docile little lamb. 
Sharp nails rake across your skin, and you’re pulled out of your daydream as Johnny is ripped from your arms. Angry streaks and broken skin are left behind in his wake, and you try your best not to cry out. Tears blur your vision as you finally open your eyes, and you see Simon yanking Johnny back against him by his collar. Desperate hands claw at the leather as the sounds of pain and pleasure mix together in his throat as Simon tugs at Johnny’s cock with vicious strokes. You can do nothing but lay there and watch in abject horror as Johnny’s cum spurts from the tip of his cock and coats the length of your stomach and chest. It’s a warm, sticky mess that has you grimacing as it mixes with the lingering sweat on your skin, yet you know better than to voice your discontent. 
“There he is,” Simon grunts. “Makin’ a goddamn mess all over my hand. A mess of your favorite toy too, hmm?”
Despite the fact that Johnny is obviously spent, Simon doesn’t let up. His hips continue to slam into his ass with no disregard for the slight whining that emanates from his favorite pup, who can do nothing but mindlessly babble. 
“What? You thought just because you were done that I was done with ya? C’mon, Johnny, you know better than that. Now, be a good boy and fuckin’ take it.” 
Vibrant blue eyes find you in the darkness of the bedroom before they roll into the back of Johnny’s head. His cum begins to cool and thicken on your body as Simon continues to have his way with him, and their combined grunting becomes near deafening. Even though you and Johnny are the ones wearing the collars, Simon sounds the most animalistic out of the three of you. Grunting and panting and growling. You hold your breath, as if that monster of a man will pounce and attack any moment. 
When Simon finishes, he does so with another feral grunt and a final thrust into Johnny where he continues to hold himself against the man. A cacophony of appreciative remarks fall from Johnny like a strained prayer to a deaf god as he’s pumped full of all of his would-be lover’s spend. He enjoys every moment of it, and you’re not sure if you should be comforted by the fact this man can be so attached to someone so purely evil. It isn’t until Simon’s given him every last drop that he finally pulls out, leaving him deserted and empty. 
There is slight reprieve to be found in the fact that they’re finally finished consuming one another. It’s not enough to cleanse you of the sullied sensation that torments your skin, but you’re at least able to wipe the stray tears from your eyes. 
“Filthy thing. Spoiled rotten, you are,” Simon growls as Johnny begins to gag. “Completely spent and still wantin’ more.” 
You venture a glance from behind the backs of your hands, and you look up to see Simon shoving his cum-coated fingers down Johnny’s throat. Stomach-churning gagging sounds from him as he devours it like dessert. His devotion to a beast such as Simon is infuriating in a complicated way. It sends a tingle up your spine. Something bone chilling — it only gets worse when Simon’s gaze lands on you. 
He doesn’t speak a word as he yanks his fingers out of Johnny’s mouth and pushes his face toward your body. A flinch echoes throughout the chords of your muscles, preparing to be bitten by the brainwashed mutt, yet no such pain blossoms on your skin. 
“We’re done playin’ for now. Clean up your fuckin’ toy,” Simon demands. 
Obedient. Eager. Johnny’s tongue lulls out of his mouth without a second thought before he licks a line along your abdomen. It’s just as warm and wet as it was when he was lapping at your cunt, and still it makes you squirm. He laughs at the way you tremble under him, and it sounds more like a pant as he washes away the remainder of his cum, consuming it without complaint. 
Licking quickly turns into kissing once he’s finished, and he starts to nibble on your neck as he settles his body weight onto you. A still needy and half hard cock presses against your thigh as he nuzzles you, legs wrapped around your body, keeping you attached to him with vice-like strength. Sticky warmth seeps through the pores of your skin, and you are so painfully trapped in that moment with a spinning head and an achy cunt. 
Simon had barked at Johnny to clean you up, but you feel the complete opposite of clean — disgusting, undignified, desecrated. Those feelings only rouse and fester when Simon begins to shove himself back into his pants with his umber gaze trained on you. You are not human. You have never been human. You’re an imitation of flesh, a bird with clipped wings, a song with no melody — you have become everything you ever feared of being:
A catalyst. Food for the greedy. 
A trophy of bone. 
“What’re you crying for, angel?” 
Johnny’s lips are on you again, smothering away each fat tear that rolls down your cheeks. He fakes his concern for you so well, it can almost be confused for love.
“I know, you’ll get your turn too. I promise, Bonnie. I always keep my promises, you’ll see,” Johnny assures you as he licks the salt off of his lips. 
That’s what I’m afraid of.
But there is no room for fear. Not as Johnny settles against your back, tucking you into him like a prized possession. Not as Simon turns off the bedside lamp and plunges the room into darkness. There is only one thought that consumes your mind as both men begin to snore — survive. One day, something will save you; be it yourself, or anyone else; be it death.
For now, you’ll just have to get used to being devoured whole.
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pizzaapeteer · 2 days
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Framed
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Just a sweet wholesome - and a little goofy - scene where Theo see's you wear your glasses for the first time.
An: I myself wear glasses and went through the I can only assume universal years of feeling unconfident in them. I'm a happy glasses wearer now but my own bf helped my confidence and when i saw this quote from this Tumblr post here (I think last year honestly) I knew i wanted to write some sweet for the glasses pals 🥹🌟
Warnings: The picture provided does not represent the readers looks in anyway. Indicates f!reader from the quote, but don't think I specify gender. No other, just cute fluff. Word count: 1200
The last of the students file alongside you with haste as you make way towards your seat for charms. Sliding yourself onto the long bench, you settle, fixing your disarranged tie and carefully smoothing your hair down as you wait for class to begin. Flitwick announces his presence with the scrapes of chalk on the board and you lift your head, instantly squinting at the blurred vision before you.
A silent curse to yourself with the quick realisation sinking in that you had forgotten to insert your contacts and cannot make out Flitwick's cursive. Favourably, you always made sure to carry your glasses with you as an absolute backup, but a seeping dread and apprehension surges in your chest at the thought of needing to wear them.
Having no choice, you begrudgingly grab them from your bag and slide the frames onto your face, your vision correcting instantly. You pray no one pays enough attention to confidently point them out, leaning your head in your hand in extra effort to hide yourself, glad when your hair falls, creating more of a shield. But of course, the one person you wished wouldn’t notice does. 
Theo, often your desk neighbour who had also been running late, slides into the seat beside you, his head snapping down to the way you're sitting. His eyes trail over you as they usually do, before stopping to rest on the frames perched on your nose. His expression is nothing more than a mere eyebrow raise at the new accessory, though his gaze doesn’t falter despite the class beginning.
Sensing the lingering stares from Nott, you raise your head, glancing at him, reactively lifting your glasses to rest on your head in a moment of embarrassment. The once clear views of the handsome boy in front of you vanishes at your worsening site, and a deep chuckle leaves him when you squint instinctively.
“Huh, didn’t know you were blind as a bat.” His face resorts back to his signature resting face, a small smile peeking through his casual manner. “Cute bat nevertheless.” 
Scoffing lightly at his cheeky compliment, your hands lift, covering your face, trying to hide your obvious flustering. “Shut up Nott, and quit staring. It’s rude.” Lowering your gaze back to your notes and ignoring the rush of heat sweltering within your body, leaving you feeling nervous. 
Theo makes no endeavor to listen, deep eyes taking in every expression your face changes through. He feels lost, spiraling down a hypnotizing well as he drowns in your beauty. He’s drawn by the glasses that seem to enhance your elegance, watching you lower the specs. His lips curl wider. “Ah ha. This makes so much sense ya know.”
“What does?” Quirking your head in curiosity, your brows furrowing. 
His face shifts, exposing his adorable, charming toothy grin, one of your favourite features of him. “This is why you’ve never hit on me isn’t it. You haven’t been able to see how hot I am. Merlin, look at what you’ve been missing out on.” He whispers, emphasizing his face moving his hands in a circle before he runs a hand through his hair. His eyes meet yours with an impudent gleam, raising a brow in a sarcastic manner that he’s right. 
Rolling your eyes, attempting to hide the smile stretching onto your face, you snort. “Theo I wear contacts, you idiot.” You continue focusing on Flitwork's work, looking away from Theo momentarily, giving you time to breathe. “Stupid contacts,” you mutter under your breath, irritation laced in your tone. 
A quiet chuckle escapes him while he studies you, noticing the clear insecurity you're projecting about your eyewear and his heart softens. Here you were worried and anxious about how you looked in your cute glasses, while he thought you’d never looked more beautiful. He’s struggling to wrap his head around why you seem so bothered, asking his next question quietly with a genuine interest, “Why don’t you ever wear them?” 
Theo’s soft and calm tone surprises you, making you raise a brow, heartbeat speeding up, skin sweltering as he continues his wanderlust stare. “I don’t like them.” You mumble nervously, gazing back down, feeling your insecurity grow. A gentle caress brings your gaze back up to him, and he studies your features again, but closer. 
It’s a very intimate moment for the middle of class, your body becoming flustered staring into Theo’s ocean orbs. You always had a hard time giving him direct eye contact, finding yourself melting into a puddle. They held you captivated, saying so much with such little emotion.
Everyone is always comparing them to the ocean, and they were right, not even just for the colour but for how they always acted. His gaze could switch from calm to stormy in a matter of seconds, always so unpredictable, just like the weather. 
His gaze holds a truth to them, while you’re getting lost in his eyes he can’t help but mirror your actions. The colours and emotion swirling in them make it hard to look away, he feels trapped while he flickers between the contrast of your iris and the frames of your glasses.
“But you’ve got them framed now, like a piece of art. Nothing could be more beautiful.” 
Nothing could have prepared you for what he just said, your mouth parting in a state of awe, that the infamous Theodore nott could even hold such amazement for you. Gaping at him, you struggle to absorb his compliment.
Did he just compliment your glasses to art, something that should be marveled at? A piece of work that is admired by many. You can’t help the way your body flushes and the smile that creeps as you gaze at him appreciatively. No one has ever complimented you in such a way, and so casually. “Really?” 
He watches in sweet amusement, a swell of pride blooming in his chest, watching your face light up. A glow of pure happiness takes over your features, and he swears you’ve never looked prettier. He finds himself matching your smile, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear, keeping his voice quiet to not disturb the class. “I wouldn’t lie to an angel.”
You’ve never found yourself so flustered before, feeling the heat migrate over your body, looking away from him momentarily. He laughs, breaking the romantic moment and you relax, relishing in the natural manner between you two falling back in. He leans back into the booth, smirking, “you should wear them more often. I like the idea of sitting beside literal art.”
Rolling your eyes but grinning again at his compliments, the idea that he likes you for you is making your heart swell hopefully. “And I get to see you all flustered like this, it’s adorable. It’s just spec-tactular, don’t you think?”  
Snorting a little too loud at his glasses pun you draw the attention of your professor, and he decides now to call on you for a question. Your face flushes in embarrassment at the extreme awareness that now is looking at you and your alternative eyewear.
Theo chuckles quietly once you answer and shrink back in your seat, glaring at him. He can’t help but continue his annoying and starting-to-seem-endless supply of eye related puns. “Hey now, don’t lash out at me, don’t lose sight of what’s important. You're a real vision.” 
The rest of class speeds by in a blur, with Theo never shutting up and your eyes unable to stop rolling, but with a small grin that’s unable to leave your face. Your mind can’t stop replaying his original moment of sweetness and, surprisingly, you feel a new growth of confidence has spurred. You’re seeing a whole new perspective with him.
masterlist
@slytherinravebabe I promised I’d let you know when I finished it 🌟
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thesamoanqueen · 2 days
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Beast
A/N: my lovely @harmshake asked me what the "beast mode" that journalists attribute to Roman is for me. I have a clear idea, because he has already talked about it, but I wanted to try something in a sort of headcanon/imagine, a type of fanfiction I hadn't tried yet here. [warnings: 18+ smut, jealousy, protective prompt}
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Between the two of you, the one with the more visceral attitude was you and it was not surprising considering every woman is forced to fight for everything on a daily basis. Roman, not the Tribal Chief the crowds was used to, was a man it was simple to feel at ease, great listener, good manners and hypercritical mind on a personal level. He was a mama's boy, not because he was spoiled - even if it was true -, but in his ability to understand, give and care, qualities every man should have and which unfortunately were lacking in most boys. However there were moments, scenarios, in which he too gave in to the less soft side of himself and when he finally snapped, it was like facing a beast that had forgotten had been tamed.
#Jealousy
Your relationship was his top priority, his jealousy didn’t come from insecurity or doubts and for this reason perhaps it would have been more appropriate refer to it as territoriality, rather than jealousy. Seeing you admired, at work as much as in private life, filled him with satisfaction and pride, for him there was no pedestal too high for you. When admiration became something more though, that part of him less inclined or not at all to tolerate woke up in full force, pushing him to mark and protect what was his without worrying about anything else.
The overly insistent glances put him on alert, the whispered proposals in an effort to lure you away from him made his mouth twitch, but it was the attempts to invade your personal space that drove him crazy. He knew you were capable of taking care of yourself, he never stood by though and watched when some mr. nobody put a bad idea into practice and it didn't matter if there was too many drinks or an agreement between sides where it was necessary stay cordial to justify it. It was then that his hands found you, sliding along your back or pulling you by his side in an intimate touch to show he was the only one chosen for such a privilege. You would have recognized him just by the touch, even blindfolded, but it wasn't necessary because with his hands, all his presence came: solid body pressed close to reassure, shield you and intimidate anyone who thought could get over him and his voice, so soft, caring in your ears as he made sure you were okay and threatening to anyone unfortunate enough to deserve direct confrontation.
- "Back off" – the target almost never understood what was happening, staring in silence.
- "You heard me. Take a step back, two and three, all the way until you get back from wherever you came from. Or maybe you want a lil help, hm boy?"
The few who had tried to resist intimidation, even assert themselves, had regretted it the moment next, ending up in a match they could never have won and which they quit at the first serious grab as you said your prayers to bring Roman back to his senses.
#Dangers
As with jealousy, his patience reached the bottom even when you found yourself, as he said, in potential dangerous situations. Organizing and planning was part of your job duties, it wasn't often that something was beyond your control, but unexpected events happened on trips and was when plans changed that Roman didn't like it, especially if he wasn't physically there with you to deal with whatever what’s going on. A delayed flight at an inconvenient time, an impromptu hotel in an unsafe city triggered a chain reaction you most often tried to avoid, managing it without warning him or giving too many details. But Roman seemed to have a sense, reading between lines and then calls and messages began, to know where you were and what or why was happening, ending with an epochal argument on the phone when you finally confessed - even if in the end it was resolved all for the best -.
- "This isn't up for discussion! Im going to come between you and anything bad in your damn life! You should have told me!"
It wasn’t a mania, but real concern and the only reason why you put up with his outbursts. The idea in his mind of not being there when you could have needed him made his blood boil, see things more dramatic than expected. You had gotten into real problems years before, a few bad moments that had taught you a lot and for which he had jumped on the first available flight or in a car, forgetting to rest even after too many hours of work, consuming miles to even reach the other coast of the country. The beast that thundered, opening his mouth, going head-to-head against everything and everyone, turning everything and everyone upside down, had made you feel small then, but it had come to your rescue.
#Job
Comments didn't affect him, he had heard too many boos during his career to be impressed, but he channeled disappointment into his training and it was when he gave everything. For Roman it wasn't about preparing, it was about trying, testing his endurance, pushing himself for when the moment came. His returns had always been epochal events, changing the direction of the entire industry. His impact was unique because regardless of whatever people's opinions were out there, Roman had always left his mark for better or worse and he did it knowing he could. You supported him, assisted him as you could, but there was a part of you always worried it could have been too much and things could fall apart.
He had never really fallen though and if it had happened, his mindset had put Roman back on his feet immediately, proving to you over the years that nothing could really bring your man down even fighting the worst challenges. When the goal became clear in his mind, when he focused, there was nothing and no one that could push him down another path or make him change his mind. He was ready to crush any obstacle, overcome limits that he himself had previously drawn, see what others could not. Roman tenacity went beyond physical strength, it was mental, psychological, a terrifying confidence that brought out the part of him that made him so special. He didn't believe he could do anything, he knew he was capable of it and in one way or another Roman always found a way to do it, shaping himself and everything around him to realize his vision. Another species of man on another level of greatness.
- "Is perfect, take a break" – you tried to convince him and he nodded, but you saw it in his eyes even before you heard it.
- "One more time."
#Love
Sweaty body, heavy breathing, a man working hard to satisfy you.
You had your love adventures, but comparison with those who had been there before and Roman wasn't even a comparison. You had never felt so much love and lust in someone's arms, never had you felt so precious and fragile at the same time, like a flower pressed between the pages of a book, while he crushed you between the sheets. Sloppy kisses on your lips and delicate ones on your forehead, hands moving a lock of hair from your face and then sinking into the flesh of your thighs, turning you upside down as he pleased.
- "I'mma fuck my name in your head sweetheart, don't run, you ain't going nowhere" – promises that sounded like threats and made you tremble, a wave of pleasure washing over as you felt him go deeper – "you're stuck with me, quit it."
You whimpered, clinging to him like your life depended on it, shaking your head, begging, but Roman knew you better than you knew yourself and his grin always came right on time. When you felt like you were at your limit, he would increase the pace, pounding until he took air out of your lungs to kiss you and fill them with himself. Your body melted in his big hands, tears and sweet moods, climaxes following one another to the rhythm of your heartbeats and his brown eyes adoring and consuming you. Moans then became silent, pleasure intense to the point you couldn't feel anything else, you curled up giving in, abandoning yourself to his imperative desire to claim you. Only then did Roman slow down, bending you over, going beyond that sweet spot that he had tortured for the whole night, chasing his own pleasure this time and the perversion in his mind that made him go feral to fill you with his seed. Then he buried his face in your neck, between your breasts or behind your shoulder blades, hips pressed against your skin, nutting right into your soul and everything around you both fell silent to let the beast finally rest.
Tag squad: @sunnyfleur23 @alyyaanna @expert-texpert @romanreignsdefencesquad @romanstheory @claymorexpunisher @keybladeofsteel @msbigredmachine @nayys-world @gobbersworld @utika151209 @cumxxslutt @civildawn @romanmydaddy @triscillal @papireigns-05 @helensanders92 @darqchilddaydreamz @meggylynnloves @unfriendly--blvck--hottie @nicolewoo @joannasteez @reignsx @kianaleani @daguenoire @extra-11 @333creolelady @snowpanda18 @brattyfics @mzv11 @romanreignseater @dreamsinfocus @vebner37 @depressedneedingrevenge @cyberdejos2 @mahi-wayy @jxtina-86 @harmshake @southerngirl41 @smile1318 @headoftheetable @sortudademais @bookuce
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hyoqa · 2 days
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pairing: hoshina soushirou x gn!reader (no prns)
request: can i pretty please request a drabble where gen has a sibling and that said sibling and hoshina are dating? even better if gen's sibling is an officer/troop leader in the first division and partakes in the rivalry between the third and first division but outside of everyone's view— gen's sibling and hoshina are terribly lovey dovey!
warnings: none I believe!
wc: 1200
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This was not something that started today. Rather, it had been this way for as long as anyone could remember.
From the moment you had joined the 1st Division, you had always been bickering with Hoshina— just like your brother. It was plain as day you were none other than the younger sibling of Narumi Gen. Although you lacked the power and passion for fame that Gen had, you weren't any less competitive than him.
However, unlike your brother, you were better at neutralizing smaller size Kaiju than him— naturally making you more competitive with Hoshina. While you were incredible at what you did, you seemed to fall just a step behind of Hoshina most of the time. You were insanely good, but Hoshina was just a little better. You had beaten him just once in the neutralization test of smaller sized kaiju, and you just couldn't seem to do it again.
This was well known among most of the first and third division, and they did enjoy your playful banter that arose even in the toughest of times. It wasn't always easy to keep the mood bright when things got difficult, but the two of you would never fail to do so. They hoped this would never change and your rivalry would never fade.
However, there were things that had changed that no one really knew of. The two of you had started dating a year ago, and you were madly in love. It was your little secret. Well, your little secret that Gen accidentally found out about.
Neither of you had told Gen about this and quite frankly, the two of you were planning to keep hiding this from him if it were possible. It wasn't new that he despised Hoshina quite a bit, and he was extremely weary of the people you meet, especially men. Naturally, to find out that Hoshina was your boyfriend wouldn't exactly be celebratory news for him. Not to mention that Gen was loud when he had complaints. You knew he absolutely would not shut up about it. So it really wasn't the plan when he had found out.
You were in your room lazing around in a baggy shirt, specifically Hoshina’s shirt, which covered your short-shorts while Hoshina was in your kitchen cooking something quick. Until you got a shared place, this happened rather often. It was either him in your room or yourself in his room. However, a lot of your stuff had found a place in his unit and vice versa, so it was very easy for you to visit each other whenever. A little too easy, perhaps.
“Hoshina, you don't have to make anything fancy,” you said. “Anything’s fine. You had a long day too.”
“I'm literally making us ochazuke. It couldn't be easier—” he was starting to say when the door swung open.
“Guess who's here!” Gen had yelled while walking into your place.
Immediately you looked back at Hoshina in the kitchen and gave up. “Oh gosh,” you said.
“What did I say about ringing the doorbell?!” you yelled back at him.
“And what did I say about locking the door?!” he exclaimed back.
“I thought I did—” you started to yell, but then you remembered you had forgotten to lock the door after Hoshina came in, hands full of groceries to stuff your empty fridge. You were a little too thrilled to see him. “My bad.”
You knew Hoshina was going to scold you later— he's been telling you to be more careful about locking up properly.
Gen saw the extra pair of shoes by your doorway and immediately met eyes with Hoshina in your kitchen.
“Why the hell are you here?!” he yelled.
“Oh, can you please be quiet,” you said. “He's visiting.”
“Why, hello! That would be me!” Hoshina said, greeting Gen properly now that it's come down to this.
“Why is he visiting you, in your room, alone, with you dressed like that?” Gen continued to ask. He wasn't understanding nor did it seem like he wanted to.
You let out a sigh, you didn't mean to, but there was no getting around this one. “What's wrong with having my boyfriend in my room,” you said.
“Your boyfriend? Hoshina?” Gen said, horrified. He didn't think matters could get worse, yet here he was. “Why him?”
“Oh, why not him?” you asked. “He's the best I could ever wish for.”
Hoshina didn’t expect that— especially not to your brother, just like that. His eyes widened as his heart tightened. Oh, how he absolutely adored you. You said it so naturally, as if merely stating a fact. To you, that really was all it was though.
Gen had a lot more to say and complain about while staying far too long, long enough to steal some ochazuke for dinner (which he also managed to complain about) before you were finally able to kick him out. Yet, through all of that, Hoshina couldn't be happier to be with you, bickering away as you ate a 5 minute meal at a small make-shift dining table.
As soon as Gen finally left, you spread your arms out in front of you, asking for a hug, which Hoshina promptly returned.
“He's finally gone…” you said, relieved it was finally just the two of you.
“Not sure he liked me much,” Hoshina said with a smile and you rolled your eyes.
“Like we didn't already know,” you said. “I really didn't plan for him to barge in like that.”
“I have to admit, I do enjoy watching you two bicker though. My brother and I are not nearly as close,” Hoshina said and you rolled your eyes again when he said ‘close’. You wouldn't ever explain your relationship as ‘close’. “However, you ought to make a habit of locking your door. What if that wasn't your brother and I wasn't here.”
“Yes,” you said, quietly but clearly— but avoiding eye contact. “I will.”
“Thank you for saying that earlier,” he said, turning your head to face his. “To this day I don't know what made you choose me.”
You immediately realized what he was talking about.
“Oh, please,” you said. “Be serious. I am the luckiest person alive by your side.”
He kissed you and you kissed back, but he truly wouldn't let you go. You started hitting his arm, hoping he would let go so you could catch your breath. After what felt like the longest moments ever he finally let you pull back, letting you breathe.
“Soushirou, I can't breathe!” you said, trying to sound irritated, but your tone lacked the edge you were hoping for.
He completely ignored you, however, and pulled you back into a tight embrace.
“I wish we could stay like this forever,” he said. “Just you and me.”
“In this small place?” you said, laughing a little.
“Absolutely wherever,” he said. “As long as you're here with me.”
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peachhcs · 2 days
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mark to the rescue
hughes!sister x will smith au (samy + will)
samy isn't feeling it when hannah drags her out, so mark comes to save her from the frats
2.1k words
i always love writing the big brother relationship between samy and the umich boys, so here's her and mark after he picks her up when samy attempts to go out and talk to guys but realizes all of them are horrible
au masterlist
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“come onnn, you haven’t come out with us in like..forever,” hannah frowned at samy where the girl sat on her bed trying to get her homework done. a small eye roll came from the soccer player. 
“maybe because i’m trying to keep up with my work?” samy’s tone had a bit of attitude laced into it. 
hannah’s noticed she’s become a bit more bitter ever since the breakup and knew to not take it personally. “okay, well you can take a break? it’ll be a fun break,” the girl tried again with a hopeful smile. 
“i’m just not into it,” samy shrugged knowing she wouldn’t really have fun. she never had a lot of fun when going out unless she was somewhat wasted and there was no way she was drinking her weight with a game in two days. 
“for an hour? please? for me if not yourself? maybe you’ll see a guy catch your eye or something,” hannah wiggled her eyebrows, but that only earned her another unimpressed eye roll. 
she’s been on samy’s back a little about going out and talking to some guys since will clearly didn’t care anymore and neither of them had spoken for five months. 
“again with the guys, huh?” samy raised her eyebrow. 
“i just think it could be fun for you. try out your flirting. you never really had to do that with will because he was always just all over you,” immediately after hannah said that she realized she probably shouldn’t have. 
samy’s gaze hardened a bit at the mention of will’s name. 
“if i come out, will you shut up?” 
hannah smiled, “yes. i knew i could convince you. come on, we need to get you ready.” 
samy was dragged off the bed a moment later, her textbooks and notebooks long forgotten as the two girls dove into samy’s closet to find an outfit. 
thirty minutes later, hannah and samy packed themselves into the full frat house. sweaty bodies knocked against one another along with drinks dropping to the floor as it sloshed out of people’s cups. the scene was chaotic and samy quickly regretted coming out. 
“i’m gonna find a drink. want anything?” hannah yelled over the speakers. 
“get me whatever,” samy responded. the girl nodded before disappearing into the crowd of bodies towards the kitchen. 
samy perched herself in the corner where she hoped she could hide the whole night and not have to talk to anyone. her phone suddenly became really interesting as she swiped through her different apps awaiting hannah’s return. 
“hey, samy, right?” the brunette’s head snapped up at the new voice. 
when she saw the face a few feet away, she instantly recognized him. he was in her political theory class where the two bantered back and forth about differing opinions. samy managed a small smile. 
“hi, yeah. that’s me. you’re..dylan, right?” the boy nodded when samy got his name right. 
“yeah, that’s me. i’m always firing some opinions back at you in class,” dylan said and samy nodded. 
“yeah, that’s right. those are fun,” the girl chuckled even though they were on opposite ends of the debate most of the times, samy enjoyed having someone to have civilized discussions with amd she knew they entertained the class. 
“i didn’t really take you for much of a frat girl?” dylan hummed, leaning himself against the wall. the brunette shrugged some. 
“i’m not, but my roommate dragged me out,” somewhere in the crowd was hannag getting them drinks and samy lowkey hoped she’d come back soon so she could exit this conversation. 
it wasn’t that she didn’t want to talk to dylan, samy knew what he wanted and why he was near her and that was just something the girl didn’t really want to partake in. 
“how are you and your boyfriend? i never see you post about him anymore?” dylan asked casually, but that sentence alone nearly sent the girl spiraling. she forgot people would ask her about will because they were fairly public with their relationship. 
“um, we broke up a few months ago actually,” samy swallowed, eyes on the ground. 
“oh. i’m sorry, i had no idea. that sucks,” the taller boy quickly sympathized with her, but samy shook her head. 
“don’t worry about it. it’s fine,” she gave a tight lipped smile that hopefully dylan would take the hint that she didn’t want to talk about it. 
he seemed to not take that hint though, “you were out of his league anyway. i’m sure you can do a lot better than him.” 
samy seriously hoped hannah was on her way back with those drinks. “yeah, it’s whatever. i’m getting over it,” the soccer player’s fingers brushed across her charm bracelet, subconsciously toying with the shark charm. 
whether the youngest hughes wanted to acknowledge it or not, she played with that charm a lot whenever will was on her mind as if it would help her stop thinking about him even though he got her that charm. 
“i bet your brother’s hockey friends are just lined up for you,” dylan seriously did not know when to stop talking. 
luckily, hannah pushed her way back through the crowd with two cups in her hand. she beamed when she caught sight of her roommate talking to a guy. 
“oh, perfect. i was waiting for you, hannah. mind showing me to the bathroom,” samy immediately cut in when the girl got close enough. 
samy had eyes that said get me away from this man. hannah glanced between her and the guy before nodding, letting the soccer player drag her away before anything else could be said. as soon as the two were out of view, samy grabbed a cup and quickly chugged whatever was in it. 
“jesus, slow down, hughes,” hannah laughed a bit. 
“these fucking guys don’t know how to take a hint. have they always been this bad?” because will was always just there, samy never had to do much flirting with him to catch his attention. she hardly paid attention to the guys in the frats last year, so she never realized how horrible it was to talk to one of them. 
“did something happen?” hannah grew concerned. 
“just that dylan can’t take a hint when to stop talking. he literally thinks luke’s hockey friends are at my feet after knowing will broke up with me,” the idea made the brunette shudder even thinking about it. 
“ew, gross. that would be a whole new low for you if you started dating one of them,” hannah shook her head. 
“can i just leave? i’ll get mark or someone to pick me up. i know you’re trying to cheer me up, but i don’t think a frat is gonna make me smile,” samy frowned a bit. 
hannah studied her roommate's expression and she knew this scene wasn’t for her. it never had been anyway. “okay, just text me when you’re back? i’m sorry this wasn’t fun.” 
“it’s okay. i promise i’ll text,” the two girls exchanged tight hugs before samy started her way back to the door and searched for mark’s contact. 
she knew ethan was studying for this big exam coming up and mark never did much except hang out with his girlfriend, so samy just hoped she wouldn’t interrupt things when she called. surprisingly, the older boy picked up on the second ring as soon as samy got outside. 
“what’s up hughesy?” mark cheered. 
“hey, i hate to ask but can you pick me up? i’m at this frat hannah dragged me out to and i just wasn’t feeling it. i’ll send my location,” the girl explained. 
“yeah, sure. i’m on my way,” mark said. 
“thanks, mark. i owe you,” the two hung up and samy made her perch outside while she waited for mark’s arrival. 
ten minutes later, mark’s little honda civic pulled onto the side of the road. the boy reached over the seats to push samy’s door open for her. the girl smiled as she climbed in beside him. 
“thanks again. i didn’t wanna bother ethan knowing he’s studying,” samy explained as she buckled in and mark pulled back onto the road. 
“it’s not a problem. i was just playing video games with the other guys,” that made samy laugh because of how typical that sounded. those guys were always glued to their computers on call with one another. 
“any chance you’re hungry? i could go for our usual,” mark glanced over at the girl with a smile. 
anytime ethan or mark had to pick samy up late at night, they always stopped at their favorite pizza place on campus that became the spot the two boys took the girl out for lunch every other week to catch up with her like real annoying brothers would do. 
“i could always go for pizza,” samy grinned back at the older boy. 
they pulled into the parking lot a few moments later as the two eagerly hopped out to order their usuals—two slices of pepperoni for samy and two slices of cheese for mark. with it being almost 12 in the morning, the two got in and out and then found a table outside. they let the comfortable silence overtake them, savoring the first bites and people watching the very drunk college kids wandering around to different house parties. 
“so bad night, or what?” mark wondered. 
“not really..i just wasn’t feeling it i guess. this one guy tried talking me up and it got weird really fast,” samy shook her head. 
“what’d he say?” 
“well, first he said i was out of will’s league because i told him we broke up when he asked. then he said and i quote, “i’m sure luke’s hockey friends are lined up at your feet.”” mark quickly frowned when he heard that. 
“what the fuck. who says that,” his eyebrows scrunched together in near disgust. 
“i have no idea. i just had to get out of there. i forgot how awful guys are when they’re trying to flirt with you,” the younger girl shook her head again. 
“i guess you have been out of the game for awhile so,” mark gently teased, but that made samy smile. 
“apparently. i hate that i actually have to like deal with that if i wanna talk to guys now.” 
“are you thinking about dating again?” mark asked. 
“i feel like i can’t keep sitting around being sad, so maybe. i don’t know. probably nothing serious though. the dating scene doesn’t really appeal to me.” 
“makes sense. i’d be the same way if i were you. i know you and will didn’t date for a long time, but that was some serious shit, so.. moving on isn’t that easy,” the older boy sympathized, which samy appreciated. 
“right. i was his first time, so i’d say that’s pretty serious,” the girl mumbled, but mark made a face. 
“ew, i didn’t need to know that part. but like actually?” his reaction made the brunette laugh. 
“sorry, but yeah i was. surprised me too when he told me, but i don’t know. i kind of thought it was sweet,” samy hummed a bit, her finger going back to the shark charm. 
“i know you’ve probably heard this a hundred times, but i really hope you guys can work it out. especially the friendship part. having a best friend like that is really special. i never really had a best friend like that until i came here and met ethan and luke and all the guys. even if the dating can’t happen again, i really hope you two can be friends again,” mark said softly which samy surprisingly didn’t hate hearing. she knew everyone who was saying this had a point and she, too, hoped that her and will could work something out. it was just a matter of who was gonna reach out to make it happen because they were both very stubborn. 
“thanks, mark. i also hope we can be friends at some point again,” the two shared a smile. 
they stayed for another ten minutes before deciding they should get back because it was late. when mark pulled into the parking lot to samy’s dorm, she reached out to give his arm a loving squeeze. 
“thanks again. text me when you and ethan are up for our get together next week and i’ll see you at tomorrow's game.” 
“yes, ma’am. have a good night,” they exchanged one last smile before samy climbed out and started her way back to the dorm feeling a lot better than she did when she left earlier. 
92 notes · View notes
junislqve · 3 days
Text
⟡ stay in my memories
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when you had finally started to accept your past, it comes back to haunt you
pairs ex!jake + reader content angst kissing jake being toxic wordcount 1404 — find my other works
note ending is highkey rushed and was supposed to be happy, but this is self indulgent, so! i also listened to memories an ungodly amount while writing this
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YOU HUFFED AS YOUR DOORBELL RANG FOR THE SECOND TIME. it was 11pm. a few minutes ago, your friend had just left after picking up her cat from the week-long vacation she had with her boyfriend. you had sensed she’d forgotten something.
when it rang once more, you begrudgingly stood up dragging your legs to the front door. the lights to your small living room was already off save for one that was only enough to illuminate the front door.
you sigh as the door click open, “you really need to stop forget-” 
“hi, babyy” 
your heart dropped. not because of how the man in front of you accidentally stumbled and now practically has his boy weight supported by you, and also somehow not because of how his hands circle your body and rest on your waist like how it used to.
it was his voice that did. 
his voice that you swore on everything you would never want to hear again. hating how it sounded so much you’d bail on any man that sounded similar to him or had his accent.
how could you not when only a few simple words uttered with that voice had your mind reeling? repeating the same heart wrenching sentence in your head over and over again, it engraved itself.
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it was pouring outside. you’ve been very stuffed with schoolwork and your finals coming up. papers spread out everywhere on your table and books scattered on your bedsides and floor. 
you felt a tickle on your ankle and watched as your dog rubbed its side on your body, begging for attention. you chuckle, dropping your pen and bending down to pick her up. sitting her on your lap as you rubbed its back. 
“i’m sorry, i just need to finish this paper and i’ll promise i’ll give you some attention, okay?” you coo at her, it hung her head low but complied, laying her head on your lap. 
a moment later, your phone lit up. you stared at the caller and with no hesitation immediately picked it up, a smile growing on your face, “hi, babe-”
“let’s break up”
you stopped. the pouring rain seemed to have hushed in a matter of seconds, the air around you felt constricted. your dog stayed silent, looking up at you in confusion.
“what?” 
“it’s just going to be hard keeping up our relationship in the long run. i’m graduating and you still have two years” 
“so?”
“so i don’t want to hold each other back” he sounded frustrated. 
“so that’s it?” you ask, voice heavy. “you’re going to leave me because you don’t want to wait two years for me?”
“you’re twisting my words”
“that’s exactly what you said, jake” 
“i’m sorry”
no he’s not. 
“no, you’re not” you say, you wait for a second too long before hanging up. you damn well know he’s not, because if he was you wouldn’t be crying as hard as you are right now. your chest wouldn’t have felt as painful as it does.
there was nothing but confusion that clouded your mind the following days. you were trying to reason with yourself why he’d ever break up with you. 
your boyfriend is the sweetest yet most comforting guy you’ve ever known. or at least, was. you thought there must be something wrong with you.
everything reminded you of him. back then, you thought you hit the lottery when he landed as your first love as well as your first boyfriend. you never doubted your relationship, he was always there for you whenever you needed him and you never turned him down if he needed a shoulder. 
every waking moment after the breakup felt plain to you. habits and hobbies turned more of a chore, some of the things you did were picked up from his habits.
you were quiet about your breakup. it took a total of 13 days until anyone found out. your friends having to fish it out of you when they felt how quiet and more zoned out you’ve become.
for three months, jake’s name was not allowed to be uttered. it was a rule your friend made. she knew anything correlated to him could tip you off, but what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her. 
she didn’t know that you’d still visit his old album from time to time just to feel something. to remember all the ways he loved you and all the ways he wasn’t there to, anymore.
you can’t let go the feeling of how he would hug you, all the times he would kiss you giggles filling out every corner of the room. the moments he’d lay on the bed with you, whispering sweet nothings lulling you to sleep.
you still can feel all of that, a ghost of the past you were never willing to let go.
you wished time could heal all of you completely. because now when you swore you have finally started to move on, he has his body slumped on yours, breath fanning your neck.
“jake?” you curse yourself from how quiet it came out. your voice wavering, your breath shallow before you slowly walk in, his body still slumped on yours.
he hummed, “i missed you” he dug his head deeper into your neck, making you physically sick.
you tug him off, stabling him by his shoulders and you wished you didn’t. you could see his state now. his hair was all messed up, face tinted red from drinking and he had that pout. his eyes attempting to blink itself awake as he looks at you through sleepy eyes.
“jake” you say again, finding your voice. that pout of his grew at your tone.
“don’t you miss me?” he asks, voice so soft you almost gave in. his hands still hover on your waist and you’d lie if you said you weren’t fully aware of it. 
“i’ll grab you some water” you say, walking out of his reach. the heat from his body slowly seeping away as you walk to grab a glass of water.
you turn back to see him sat on the couch, his head laying on the arm rest, legs sprawled sideways. tapping him on the shoulder, his eyes crease open along with that smile of his. your heart clenched.
he grabs the cup and downs it in one gulp, “thank you” he says quietly.
when you were about to grab it and walk back to the kitchen, jake had tugged your shirt causing you to topple on top of him on the couch. 
“you haven’t said you missed me back” he said, head buried in your hair, breathing you in. 
you gathered all of you to push against him and stand up, “jake, stop”
“i know you’re sober”
it barely showed, but you could see the slight waver of his smile.
“i miss you” he says for the third time tonight, eyes open but still slightly glazed.
“you’re being selfish” tears start to well up. it’s overwhelming to say the least. how could he just show up at your doorstep months later giving you false hope? after everything he’s made you go through.
“i know” he starts, sitting up slightly, “and i know i have no right to come back here begging for you to come back. but i miss you”
“you should leave” you look away.
“please”
“jake”
“i’m sorry” he says, “but i’ll do better this time”
maybe it was those eyes that convinced you, or the sliver of sincerity you pretended to see in his eyes or maybe once again it was that voice that allured you. but you gave in. 
he brought you in for a kiss. one that you’ve undoubtedly miss all these months of being apart. jake just knew how to bring you back into his arms. he held you all night long and between the kiss and the cuddling, you dozed into a sleep you haven’t felt for months.
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you shifted, you peek at the light hitting your eyes from the slip of the curtains. 
you rolled over, the space beside you, cold. 
you sat up, the blanket falling off your body as you looked around the living room. trying to grasp at the hazy memory of last night.
the table in front of the couch is neat. when your eyes focused there was a scrap of paper placed on it.
‘i don’t deserve you, i’m sorry
-love, j’
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© junislqve 2024. liking, commenting, and rebloging are appreciated.
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zkaus · 20 hours
Text
At the back of my copy of The Vampire Armand, there's an old interview with Anne Rice talking about creating that novel. I've never forgotten her answer to one of the questions... It haunted me for years.
It gives incredible insight into how and why she wrote such beautiful, brutal and broken characters, and what she endured in the creation process.
BUT before you read this, I'm going to STRONGLY warn you, it goes to very very DARK places
Q: What are your work habits for a novel?
A: Once I truly begin to write, I work obsessively, in twelve-hour days, punctuated by days of long sleep and vivid dreaming. Starting time and ending time are no longer important. I might begin at 9 A.M., or after noon or at eight in the evening. I go from there. I turn on the computer and write, write, write.
My room is a mess. Notes are scribbled on the walls so that I can look up at them at the appropriate moments and insert the date, the name, whatever, when I need it. Books are stacked so high that people have to search for me when they come into the room. Opened books with marked-up pages are stacked on top of one another.
I become suicidal. I go through a horrid despair some time or other before the final page, during which everything seems meaningless—from the dawn of history to the very hour in which I am writing.
I’m intolerable to live with. But I spread myself thin over a number of loved ones and staff members so that no one person has to put up with how intense, hysterical, and miserable I am.
When I get elated and talk fast and furiously about wonderful aspects of history or the characters, or good developments in the story, people run away from me. I don’t blame them.
While the novel is being written, I try to avoid dressing for outdoors. No one can make you go out if you don’t have shoes on. Not even in the south. I wear long velvet robes and soft velvet slippers. I refuse to go out. All food is brought in. I eat hamburgers because they are easy to hold with one hand while reading and holding the book with the other hand.
In the middle of the night I read, sometimes on the carpeted floor of the bathroom, just because it’s warm. I am wretched. I don’t care anymore about being abnormal. Writing is everything. Everything. It seems impossible to write the book. It seems impossible to lift a hairbrush to brush my hair. But I do it. I put on mascara every day that I write.
This period of intense work lasts about six weeks. It’s best that way. My imagination is overheated, and my memory clogged with data of varying importance. If I go over six weeks, I begin to forget things; I feel the loss of intensity and information and I become all the more self-destructive and obsessed.
The end of the book is a big event for me. A big event. I start screaming. I put the hour and the date at the end of the last page. I expect everybody to understand, at least a little. It’s a triumph! The darkness of destiny has been driven back for a brief while. I celebrate. I scream, eat chocolate, and sleep.
Right near the end of writing The Vampire Armand, I realized I had to return to Italy, especially to Florence, and at once I began to make preparations for the trip. As soon as the novel was finished and off to the publisher’s, as soon as it could be accomplished, I flew to Italy. That gave me hope, a way out of a life threatening darkness that often follows the climax of a book. But I still ate chocolate and screamed.
While writing, I don’t want to rest. I don’t want to sleep. Why sleep? It seems stupid, except when weariness overcomes me like a giant cloud of poisonous vapor. Then I sleep fifteen to twenty hours. I tell people to go in and out of the bedroom and ignore me lying there, as if I were dead. I won’t talk on the phone. I won’t open my eyes if I don’t have to. I dream terrible, upsetting dreams.
I want to kill myself. But I can’t. I can’t do it to other people, and I have work that must be done, novels that must be written. So I don’t kill myself. Besides, I don’t think it’s good to kill oneself. It’s a horrible idea. It has a horrible effect even on acquaintances.
I think a lot about people I loved who are dead. I think of how dead they are, year after year, ever more dead.
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wandasfifthwife · 4 hours
Text
🌷 her little brat
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mommy!wanda x fem/afab!reader
you attend an event you were told not to go to. when Wanda’s contact appears on your phone you’re sure of what’ll transpire once you’re back home
tw: smut, established relationship (dating), top/dom!wanda, bottom/bratty sub!reader, slight age gap (w = 30, r = 22), reader is called baby, alcohol/drug mention (not r or w), rough sex (consensual), hair pulling (length and type not described), mommy title used, strap referred to as Wanda’s dick, strap in v (r receiving), oral (w receiving), impact play (spanking, cheek slapping), brat tamer / brat dynamics, dom/sub dynamics, r is described to be wearing a dress, not really proofread
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୧ 2.2k‧₊˚ 🎐 masterlist ⋅
There’s a list of rules the both of you agreed on—and then there’s a grey line between them. You often danced on the line, always teetering on the line of disobeying Wanda—on the cusp of being a bad girl, but far enough where you usually don’t get punished for it.
She knows this, she knows you.
An event—the one brought up by your friend a week ago—was happening tonight.
Usually you’re okay with whatever answer Wanda provides, about whether or not you can go to an event.
The night you went to ask about this party she had sat in bed, a book in her lap. When she saw you come in, the book was discarded and you filled in where it was. You tried to get on her good side first—kissing her, whispering how much you love her, smiling at her. She dealt with it for so long, hand hitting the back of your thigh playfully—asking you to just tell her already.
“My friend invited me to this event, can I go?”
“Can my baby communicate better? What event?”
“A party,” you whisper against her neck, wincing when she hums—signaling you to repeat what you’ve said, “a party.”
“Mm what kind? A birthday party?”
“A house party.”
“So drinking, smoking—?”
“Yes?”
“Then no.”
You push back off her shoulder to look her in the eyes, “but—”
Her expression brings you to a halt, pulling you back down to lay on her shoulder again. You sigh, relaxing into her when her fingers draw stars onto your back, “good girl.”
If only she could read your mind in that moment, she would’ve taken that good girl comment back. You fixed your expression to seem as if you “moved on,” but you were going to this party. You’ve not gone to a single college party, always obeying Wanda and staying back with her. And it’s tempting, but you want to try it once. Just once, and she’ll never have to know about it.
Your plan was stupid, but who can you blame—you’ve never snuck around her like this before. She works daily from 9-5, and on Friday nights she’s usually later because she goes out with her coworkers. So she’s not usually home until 10PM.
Once she left for her dinner your friend came and picked you up, driving you towards the house. There were three hours to spend before your friend had to drive you back home so you could take everything off and act as if you’ve been there the whole time.
“Hey, you made it,” your friend starts, pulling you into a hug.
You laugh, “I’m here!”
“You doing alcohol tonight or—?”
“No, unfortunately.”
“Very unfortunate—why,” he asks, putting the extra cup he had set out for you back down onto a table.
“Just wanna be sober tonight is all. How’s your girlfriend doing? Is she here tonight?”
“Awh no, she’s studying,” he says, taking a sip of his drink, “You know STEM majors, cutting back the fun often so they can study.”
A tap on your shoulder and someone from one of your classes pops into your vision, smiling and hugging you. You return the energy, but hold back on saying a name because you’ve unfortunately forgotten it.
“My word, it’s so good to see you. How’s everything been? We soooo need to catch up soon.”
“Oh I’d love to, let me check my schedule,” you reach for your phone in your purse, pulling it out to check your calendar, “I could this weekend if you’d like?”
She agrees, squeezing your shoulder affectionately, “anyways, I’m heading out back. You can totally join. I can give you a house tour before though too?”
You thank her, following her through the crowd of bodies and clouds of smoke. The sweet aroma in the air from multiple people’s vapes is colliding with the smell of multiple people’s sweat. It’s a relief when you’re able to walk outside, the fresher air filling your lungs.
“Do you live on campus,” she asks, stepping down the stairs to walk out onto the yard.
“No I live with my girlfriend, we’re only like 15 minutes away. It’s not a bad commute.”
“Do you both go?”
“Oh no, she’s graduated.”
She looks shocked, sitting on a pool bench and patting the space next to her, “how old is she then?”
“Thirty.”
She nods, smiling suddenly and you take its because someone’s walking up from behind. A guy appears, introducing himself to you.
He sits himself across from you two, motioning a drink in your direction but you signal your distaste, “ahh alright, how’s your night been? Also it seems like Kacey and Lance are fucking in your bedroom again.”
“Again,” she sighs, exhausted, “I’m going to shut this party down.”
“No need for that, just stop inviting them.”
“That’s unless, they always show up.”
He laughs, “they must have some party kink seeing how they’re always fucking.”
You laugh, reaching behind you to grab your phone when you feel it buzzing underneath your thigh. Your heart beats louder when you notice the contact.
“Hey, you alright girl?”
No.
“Im fine, just realized I have an exam on Monday,” you breathe out, turning your phone’s vibration off. It’s only been an hour, clock reading 7:03PM. Maybe she’s just checking in on you? A text rings in just then, telling you to answer her call. You smile sheepishly to your friends when your phone screen lights up again.
“Do you need to answer that?”
“Uh,” you hesitate but end up hanging up, “no, it’s fine.”
It’s really not. You had every intention to not let her find out tonight, and she might not know—but you highly doubt that when you read her next text.
Come home.
She knows—she knows you’ve left for the party, and now she knows you’re not responding to her. You’re digging yourself into a rabbit hole. It’s exhilarating and nerve wracking.
Twenty minutes later and you can’t stop yourself from worrying. It’s one thing when she messaging you, it’s another when she goes silent. Radio silent. nothing comes through anymore, no calls or texts.
You feel you’ve done enough. Priorities have since changed. Before there was value in a college party (it’s not any different from the clubs Wanda’s taken you to, there’s just more vodka). But now? You’re nervously tapping the back of your phone, looking through the crowd for the one who drove you to the party.
You thank your friend once she’s driven you home, feeling your throat close after you’ve shut the door and watch her drive away. You now feel alone, cold walking back into the house. The lights are off except for a lamp shining in the living room, and apparently a candle was set in the kitchen— a floral scent filling the house.
It did nothing to calm you down.
“Hi baby,” Wanda starts, calling out to you from her place on the couch, “enjoy your party?”
“It was fun.”
“Mm, still fun even though I told you not to go?”You step closer, mouth opening to snap at her but she’s quicker, “don’t fucking start.”
You scoff, staying where you are and crossing your arms, “really? You’re being dramatic.”
“Tell me, why am I dramatic?”
“Because I went to a party.”
“You think I’m dramatic that you went to a party?” Your nod makes her laugh, airy and soft, “I don’t care, we’ve gone to clubs together. That’s not what I’m mad at, could you tell me what I’m actually mad at?”
“Leaving.”
“Close—disobeying. I’m upset you snuck behind my back and broke a rule,” she sighs, leaning onto her palm, “and you had a long streak going, you’ve been my good girl for so long you had to go and break that.”
“Well forgive me for wanting a fun night.”
“Did you communicate that with me?”
Your silence is loud, answering her question. She looks at you for a minute, eyeing you up and down, enjoying the sight.
“That dress looks pretty on you.”
“Thank you.”
“Why don’t you crawl over here, give me a show.“
“No thank you.”
“That wasn’t a question.”
Your cheeks heat in embarrassment as you bend down to the floor, eyes focusing on the wooden floor below you in shame. She ticks her jaw, “look at me.”
You lift your head, heart stuttering in your chest when you find her dark eyes. They’re looking all over you—your eyes, lips, breasts… you feel exposed with clothes on.
“I kind of want to see you turn around and push your hips up for me,” she mumbles, “would you do that for me baby?”
You grit your teeth, “and if I don’t?”
“You won’t come for a week—turn over for me?”
You do as told, turning away from her and bending your front half down onto the rug. It’s embarrassing how this is making you wet, panties growing darker the longer you lay on the floor poised as such. She doesn’t say anything and she doesn’t have to, the burn of her stare is enough.
“Come here,” You’re quick to move, resting your head along the inside of her thigh. Racing heart settling once you’ve settled into something familiar.
She brushes your cheek, “want to hear the punishment I’ve laid out for you?”
“Yes.” You’re met with the feeling of her hand colliding with your cheek, a gasp tearing from you. Water gathers in your eyes as you fix your posture, “yes, mommy.”
“Done this for what, two years and you’re still messing up my title?”
“Sorry, mommy.”
She hums, “I’m going to have you eat me out. If you do well I’ll fuck you with my strap. Understand?”
You nod, moving away from her so she can remove her silk pj shorts. Her scent hits your nose when you move closer, everything about it is intoxicating. You press a kiss to her clit, smiling at her shivering.
A hand comes to grip your hair, pulling a gasp from you, “tease me anymore and you’re going to bed with nothing, got it?”
“Yes—sorry, mommy.”
You don’t try anything after. She keeps your head stuffed between her thighs, moaning softly each time your tongue brushes against her clit.
“Being good for me, so good. Keep going, ah—!”
You swivel your tongue, and feeling her clench around nothing you know she’s close. She pulls your hair, jerking it harder when you do something that draws her closer to her orgasm.
“Ah yes, right there. Keep going, fuck.”
You whine, pressing closer and licking a stripe up her cunt. Her eyes are trained on you, watching every move and responding accordingly. She grinds herself on you, gasping as she comes off her high.
“Did so good,” she gasps in air, “so good for mommy. Want a reward now?”
You nod, climbing onto her lap and smiling. You feel her hands slide under your thighs to carry you into the bedroom, where she can set the harness onto her hips.
“Gonna be my good girl and take all of this,” she asks, parting your folds with her fingers, a slick sound coming from the action.
You whine, “fuck, please, I’ll be so good for you.”
“That’s nice baby, but what else?”
“I’m sorry for being such a brat. I shouldn’t have snuck off like that, should’ve talked with you. I’m sorry mommy.”
“I know baby,” she starts, hips pushing forward, “I know you’re sorry.”
“Mommy,” you gasp, mind shutting off at the feeling of every inch of her dick push itself in.
She grinds the length in, getting wet again at the sight of your cunt swallowing her entire length, even trying to suck it deeper. Her hands grab your hips, pulling you further off to bed so she can use the distance to her advantage.
“Feel this,” she says, pressing as deep as she can, “this is a reward only for good girls, are you done being a brat? Wanna be my good girl again?”
“Yes,” you mumble, shouting when her hand slaps your ass.
“Fucking speak up.”
“Yes! Yes, I’m done, just please!”
The pace she sets is brutal, tantalizing—hands pulling you down harder onto her length to hear you babble. She has you right where she wants you, moaning her name with glossy eyes. Your back slides against the sheet with each thrust, sounds half muffled by your arm and the sheets that got pulled up beside your body.
The bedroom’s half dark, the lamp from the living room cascading through the open door. You can see half her face, see it come closer until her lips are on yours. You met her halfway, arms wrapping around her shoulders to pull her closer. The taste of her lips is tantalizing, something sweet overwhelming your senses when her tongue runs across your bottom lip. You jerk when she presses against the spot, the one that makes you see stars.
Once she gets a pace going against the spot, she feels you melt in her grasp—eyes shutting, and head pushing back against the bed. Your loud moans become fixed breathy whines as your high builds.
The feeling of her body yours, length pushing and grinding just perfectly, her thumb swiping your clit pushes you closer to your high. You’re muttering nonsense into the air, gripping her shoulders tighter—nails pushing into her skin.
“Gonna come?”
“Yes! ‘M gonna come. Please let me, mommy. I’ve been good,” she pushed back in then, drawing a strangled sound from your throat, “oh fuck me, please!”
“Go ahead.”
She feels herself fall in love even more when she watches how your body writhes under her, hands drawing her face in for a kiss like you usually do. Who’s she to deny you, lips finding yours.
“You drive me crazy,” she whispers, looking down at you with a smile.
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yan-shann · 2 days
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EARTHSPARK SEASON 2 SPOILER'S
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So, this is just my opinion, based on the 9 (10) episodes that have been released.
English is not my native language, please, be nice <3
Nightshade was not developed. Ok, I'll just deal with it and move on, they're one of my fav char's list, but they still cute and genius so im fine with it.
Hashtag has gained more development. I really enjoyed watching her, there wasn't much of her in the first season. More than satisfied. I really liked her new altmod, it’s beautiful, stylish, the Hashtag are great
Cosmos was shown only for a couple of minutes and forgotten, very disappointing. Where did he even go? Maybe I missed something, I don’t deny it. Let's just move on.
We got more Skywarp and Novastorm. And by more I just mean more, there was no revelation or experience at all, there was just more. Okay, that's fine with me, okay. Im just happy with fact they are here at all lmao
The Twitch and Spitfire arc is GREAT. I mean, she's GORGEOUS. I really liked it, especially the fact that Twitch beat Skywarp, lol. Okay, jokes aside, Twitch really grew up in this arc, I really liked her more, she's grown-up a little, my lil girl
The twist with the fact that titan was expected under the city, I liked it too. The titan herself is very beautiful and wise, I will wait for her in future episodes, it’s too early to say anything more clear, but at the moment I’m in admiration
Now let's get to the part I don't really like. Another thing's was quite acceptable, but that was somewhat disappointing
DESEPTICON RELATIONSHIPS.
I don't want to say that there were no interactions among the Decepticons, but I didn't get enough of them. I don't have enough Starscream, Soundwave, Novastorm, Breakdown, I DID NOT ENOUGH ANYONE AT ALL. I fkng needed an episode before the betrayal where they showed us the relationship between the Decepticons, Autobots and Terrans. But they showed us four or something dmn pictures and retold it, not even a two-minute flashback, I’m completely disappointed!!1!
I mean, we weren't even given a FLASHBACK. This is kind of crazy. Just like what Starscream's arc fell into.
I know he never said he would be good. I still like him, I understand his actions, but IT SEEMED TO ME THAT AFTER SEVERAL YEARS (?) IN PRISON, he finally rethought something. I didn’t expect the level of Armada, no, that’s foolish i think, but I expected that they would show more of his motives, more of why he does this, because now I have the impression that he has not changed at all and has rolled back to the state before the first season, like WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS BRO. No, of course, this could be connected to Emberstone, but Starscream didn’t seem to touch it, at least they didn’t show it or i missed something.
(I know Starscream loves Cybertron and everything of it, but it’s been showed on IDW, they don't tell something about it in earthspark. Starscream here just wanna home for him and Decepticons, but for some reasons he doesn't even try to hear Shockwave's opinion about going back to Cybertron and I wanna MORE information about it)
At first it seemed to me that the Decepticons have quite a good relationship, and Starscream is a good leader, but now I think that the others will simply kill him or just kick out as soon as they find him, after what Starscream did. (although I think there is a chance that they will understand and accept him, given Shockwave's words that "Starscream couldn't handle the weapon and lost his mind" or something like that)
BTW Earthspark is still a cool series and I'm looking forward to the continuation. I really love it. Everything written here is written on emotions after the first viewing, do not take it close to heart.
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Alastor & Lucifer’s Wedding
Written by @bunny-is-cute
The grand hall of the new and renovated Hazbin Hotel where the wedding of Lucifer Morningstar and Alastor, the Radio Demon, was to take place, was an awe-inspiring sight. The hall was adorned with black and red roses, their petals as dark as night and as red as blood, and crystal chandeliers that shimmered like stars in the underworld's eternal twilight. The ethereal, gothic elegance of the venue perfectly matched the grandeur of the occasion.
Lucifer stood at the altar, resplendent in a crimson three-piece suit that contrasted sharply with his dark, sinuous hair. His eyes gleamed with a mixture of excitement and anticipation. Beside him, Asmodeus, the Sin of Lust and his best man stood in his own dark attire, exuding an aura of seductive charm. Asmodeus couldn't help but smirk as he watched Lucifer fidget slightly, a rare sight for the usually composed ruler of Hell.
Meanwhile, Alastor was in a separate room, adjusting his white three-piece suit. The contrast of the pure white suit against his typically eerie presence made him look both angelic and otherworldly. His mother, Ellie, fussed over him, her eyes moist with pride and joy. She wore a simple but elegant black dress, her dark hair pulled back in a neat chignon.
"Are you ready, darling?" Ellie asked, her voice trembling slightly.
Alastor looked at her, his crimson eyes softening. "I've never been more ready, Mama. Thank you for being here with me."
Ellie kissed his cheek gently. "It’s my honor, my dear boy."
In the main hall, the children were causing a delightful ruckus. Calliope and Verena, the flower girls, were giggling as they played with their baskets of rose petals. Verena, with her adventurous spirit, kept throwing petals into the air and watching them float down, while Calliope, more calm and contemplative, carefully arranged the petals in her basket.
Caius and Caelan, the ring bearers, were equally energetic. Caius kept pretending to be a knight, wielding the ring pillow like a shield, while Caelan tried to keep him in check, his curiosity barely contained behind a more reserved demeanor.
Husk, dressed in a sharp black suit as Alastor's best man, was keeping an eye on his own children. Julep, fiercely independent, was trying to sneak a sip of champagne, while Freya, sweet and nurturing, was attempting to keep Royal and Reign, the youngest of the bunch, from running off.
"Hey, keep it down, you little demons," Husk called out, his gruff voice tinged with affection. "Well, technically you are, but you know what I mean…now all of you stay with Miss Emily! She’ll be watching over you two during the wedding!”
Emily walked over and began guiding the kids to their seats in the pews. She was one of the few people who could keep them quiet and calm.
Everyone was soon getting into place, with Husk heading to the alter to go to his place.
As the music started, the hall fell silent, and all eyes turned towards the grand entrance. The doors opened, and Calliope and Verena walked down the aisle next, scattering rose petals with every step, their faces lit with joy. Caius and Caelan followed, carefully carrying the rings on their pillow, their earlier antics forgotten in the solemnity of the moment.
And soon enough, the man of the hour walked through with his mother by his side. The sight was breathtaking. Alastor, in his white suit, seemed to glide towards the altar. The guests watched in awe, the moment a perfect blend of love and reverence.
Lucifer's breath caught as he saw Alastor approaching. The Radio Demon's eyes met his, and a silent promise passed between them. When they reached the altar, Ellie kissed Alastor's cheek once more before stepping back, her eyes glistening.
"I give you my son," she said, her voice steady despite her emotions.
Rosie, the officiant, stood at the altar, her ever-present smile and infectious enthusiasm bringing warmth to the proceedings. She cleared her throat and began the ceremony. "We are gathered here today to witness the union of Lucifer Morningstar and Alastor Hart. A union that, despite the odds and the passage of time, has blossomed into something truly eternal. Love in Hell is a rare and precious thing. It defies the darkness, bringing light and hope where none should exist."
Lucifer and Alastor exchanged their vows, their voices filled with unwavering conviction.
"Alastor," Lucifer began, his voice steady and clear, "from the moment I met you, I knew you were different. You challenge me, you complete me, and you make Hell feel like heaven. I promise to stand by you, to love you, and to honor you for all eternity."
Alastor's eyes glistened as he responded. "Lucifer, my love, you have been my beacon in the darkness, my partner in chaos, and my anchor in eternity. I vow to love you, to support you, and to stand beside you, no matter what the future holds."
The rings were exchanged with trembling hands, Caius and Caelan watching in awe as the symbols of their union were placed on their fingers.
Rosie smiled warmly. "By the power vested in me by the infernal realms, I now pronounce you husband and husband. You may kiss your groom."
The kiss that followed was tender and passionate, sealing their bond in front of their loved ones. The hall erupted in applause, the children cheering loudly, their excitement palpable.
The reception that followed was a night to remember. The guests mingled, the children played, and the newlyweds basked in the glow of their love. Toasts were made, led by Husk and Asmodeus, each bringing laughter and tears in equal measure.
Husk raised his flask in a toast. "To Alastor and Lucifer, may your love burn bright and your bond remain unbreakable."
Asmodeus smirked, raising his glass. "To an eternity of love, passion, and, of course, a little bit of mischief."
The night was filled with dancing, laughter, and joy. The children eventually tired themselves out, falling asleep in various corners of the hall, their dreams filled with the day's magic.
Lucifer and Alastor stood at the edge of the dance floor, watching their family and friends celebrate their union. Lucifer wrapped an arm around Alastor's waist, pulling him close.
"To eternity," Lucifer whispered.
"To us," Alastor replied, his eyes sparkling with love and happiness.
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redflagshipwriter · 14 hours
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Hot Ghouls Chapter 10 1/2
Masterpost
At 8:00 pm, Danny scraped himself off the counter at his work-study position and gathered up his books. His replacement, Angelica, was already setting up by adjusting the height of the spinning chair in front of the best computer. She was a little older than him, a Junior maybe? She had been his training supervisor.
A patron came up while he was putting his notebooks in his bag. Angelica checked them out, soft beeps marking each book. He hung around a few moments until she finished and the student went out the door.
“Hey, Angie?” He asked. “I saw you're on closing Saturday. I'm on opening.” Danny fidgeted. “Would you be okay with a trade?” He was going to have to stay out late tonight, and there was no way he’d be able to catch up on missed sleep on Friday. He knew from experience that he’d be staggering all Saturday if he really had to be at the library by 8 am.
Angelica blinked and paused for a moment as she thought it over. “Tentatively, it's fine,” she decided. “I'll text you when I know for sure. I have to check with Birdie.”
Danny put his hands up. “Fair enough,” he said agreeably, “I owe you one either way for trying.”
“It's not a problem, I have to work the same hours either way.” Angelica opened up a browser and then started setting up whatever schoolwork she had to keep her occupied until midnight. “Have a good night, Danny. Take care out there. Stay away from banks.”
He promised that he would and then he slouched out onto the dim campus. It was pretty dead at the moment. People were mostly off campus, or in their dorms getting ready to go out for the night, Danny figured. He started the walk home on autopilot.
Danny hadn’t forgotten that he promised Jason he’d focus on their problem, and it didn’t matter that Jason had been kind of a creep about it. It was still high up his priority list.
But the more he thought about it, the more freaked out he was that Waters had managed to do it in the first place. It should have been impossible. There had to be a factor that they didn’t know about, but Danny wasn’t enough of an expert on piercing the veil between life and death to figure that out without tanking his grades. He hadn’t been able to get a hold of Vlad yet, either.
His tentative theories all seemed bonkers. Maybe Waters had gotten hold of some kind of magical focus, or gotten sponsored by someone with a lot of hocus pocus. Maybe Waters was a tool for someone else’s scheme, as opposed to just being a useless tool like usual. It was also possible that Jason was the weird factor. It seemed like a big coincidence, though, that Waters would stumble upon a sacrificial victim who actually was already eligible to reside in the Infinite Realms. Vlad had said it would be possible for a ghost on the living world side to get sent packing by Waters’ bullshit, but that possibility was outright silly. What ghost would A: be in the human world; and B: get caught by Jeremy friggin Waters or even sillier, C: want to get engaged to Danny?
It was a moot point. Jason gave Danny some weird feelings that he suspected might be like, puberty related, but he definitely wasn’t a ghost. Danny could tell that, at least. He was a flashy-dressing biker tough guy. He was probably a community theatre escapee, what with the cherry red helmet with weird face shape molding and his dramatic play to lounge around one of Danny’s regular study spots, but come on. He was just some dude. Kind of a dorky dude, even.
‘Massively hot, though,’ Danny had to acknowledge. He could never let Jazz know. Or Sam. Or Tucker. Or-
He shuddered at the thought of his parents meeting his accidental fiance.
Just, no. The only person he could probably trust around Jason was, idk… Wulf?
“I need better friends,” Danny muttered. He jogged down the final set of concrete stairs that led off campus and into the city itself.
It was debatable as to whether there was any point in going back to his apartment. The backpack on his shoulders wasn’t that heavy. If he went there, he’d basically dump his luggage and change and then have to go…
Danny made a face and fished out his phone. He optimistically changed directions before he could finish typing his request to crash at Jazz’s place for the night. On the one hand, she would know firsthand how little sleep he was going to get. On the other hand, this would shave hours off of his travel.
He was nearly to his sister’s apartment near the main Gotham U campus when she sent back a message.
:( I’m not home tonight, but my roommate is! If you can ghost in without her knowing, go for it! But she really can’t know, I can’t have guests when I’m not there to supervise.
Danny typed up a message with a little emoji robber accusing her of criminal actions before he remembered he shouldn’t bite the hand that let him crash.
You’re saving my entire afterlife, he sent instead.
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Study Break
Summary: In your cozy study corner, Hajime Umemiya constantly asks for kisses, making it impossible to focus.
Warnings: None.
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The sun was beginning to set, casting a warm golden hue over the room. The soft rustling of papers and the occasional scratching of pens were the only sounds filling the small, cozy space you and Hajime Umemiya had designated as your study corner. The room was filled with stacks of books, some open and some closed, scattered around a large wooden table that you both were trying to share. The window was slightly ajar, letting in a gentle breeze that carried the scent of blooming flowers from the garden outside.
You were deeply engrossed in your textbook, trying to make sense of a particularly difficult math problem, when you felt a familiar presence leaning closer to you. You glanced up to see Hajime, his striking blue eyes sparkling with mischief.
“Can I have a kiss?” he asked, his voice soft and teasing.
You couldn’t help but smile at him. “Hajime, I just gave you one a minute ago,” you replied, trying to sound stern but failing miserably as you saw his pout forming.
He crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, looking every bit like a sulking child. “But that was so long ago…” he murmured, his eyes never leaving yours.
You sighed, knowing you were fighting a losing battle. You gave him a quick peck on the lips, hoping it would satisfy him for a while. But as soon as you pulled away, he was already leaning in again.
“Another one?” he asked, his voice a low whisper now, sending shivers down your spine.
“Hajime, we have to study,” you said, trying to focus back on your books. But his persistence was wearing you down.
Minutes passed, and Hajime’s requests for kisses didn’t cease. Each time you tried to concentrate, he would lean in closer, his lips brushing against your ear, distracting you completely.
Finally, with a resigned sigh, you closed your book and turned to face him fully. “Alright, you win,” you said, a smile tugging at your lips.
Hajime’s eyes lit up as you climbed into his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck. His hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer. You could feel his heartbeat quicken as you leaned in, your lips capturing his in a heated kiss. All thoughts of studying were forgotten as you lost yourself in the moment, the world around you fading away.
The kiss was deep and passionate, a mix of longing and love that had been building up with each of his playful requests. Hajime’s hands roamed up and down your back, pulling you even closer as if he couldn’t get enough of you. You could feel the warmth of his body against yours, his heart pounding in time with your own.
When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, a satisfied smile on Hajime’s lips. “I guess studying can wait,” he murmured, his forehead resting against yours.
You chuckled softly, running your fingers through his hair. “Yeah, I guess it can,” you agreed, your heart swelling with love for the boy who made even the most mundane activities feel special.
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hpalways · 1 day
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"my fate, not yours"
Fandom: Jujutsu Kaisen
Characters: Higuruma Hiromi, Geto Suguru, Gojo Satoru x GN!Reader
Synopsis: Where death lurks at every corner, they push you away to protect you.
Warnings: Slight spoilers from manga.
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HIGURUMA HIROMI
In the world of law, strict boundaries were set, whether on the job, in relationships, personal life, and everything that surrounded you as a core of a person. You were there during his aspirations as a defense attorney. The goodness in his heart shone the brightest among the corruption that wormed its way around the courthouse.
It was what led you to fall for him -- a boundary that should never have been crossed as a fellow colleague.
You were then there at his downward spiral, his expression growing darker at the injustice that became so obvious. The moment his curse technique awakened, he had done the deed -- murder the prosecutor and the judge.
And now, here you were, in this Culling Game with Higuruma Hiromi.
"Are you not afraid of me?" he asked you, after you watched him defeat an enemy from the corner of the deserted theater.
"Why should I be? If you were going to kill me, you would've already done so. My death would give you another extension. Besides, are we not colleagues?"
He nodded, his dark eyes softening slightly. "Yes. For the longest time now. You should leave this game, [Name]. Leave and never turn back. You don't have a technique."
"But..."
"What are you sticking around for? Is it because of your feelings for me?"
Your face blossomed in heat as you fumbled with your words. "H-How? How did you know?"
"I'm a lawyer. As are you. We are quite the perceptive people."
You nodded, ashamedly averting your eyes to the dingy floor of the stage. "Well, yes. I have feelings for you. But no, that's not the reason why I'm still here."
"If it's because of this game's rule of being unable to leave, I can change it."
You shook your head. "I can't leave you here alone."
He approached you, in his suit and disheveled look. Worn out at the roots, and his passion in law failing him, you still held comfort around him. He was like a fallen angel -- the devil, simply misinterpreted and unfortunate. You wanted to save him. Wanted him to know that you were by his side, even if the world wasn't.
"Thank you for loving me," he whispered into your ear. He then curved his face, his warm breath hitting your cheek. With that, he leaned in, soft lips pressed like a kind reminder.
A kiss marked by goodbye.
"But don't love me anymore." His smile was bittersweet, but there was no regret in his eyes, for a newfound freedom had reached him. A fallen angel he was, granted by a new set of wings. "I have no place in the court anymore. You... You still have a life outside of this game."
"No one has to know what you've done!" you argued. "You can still continue!"
He shook his head. "I wouldn't be able to live with myself in a sea of lies. This... This is my path."
Your hands fell to your sides, unable to speak, because the second you would, your words failed you. He was not going to budge -- he had already made his mind a long time ago. He was going to play this damn game until the very end. With or without you.
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GETO SUGURU
A destiny as dark and grim as his, many could not withstand it. Many could not deal with his thoughts on humanity and beliefs for his version of a better world. Time and time again, he was left and forgotten, a remnant of an unspoken memory that haunted jujutsu society.
Or maybe, he was the one to leave first.
He thought you were a strange sorcerer, the first time you met. Having met on the battlefield, he expected to fight you to the death, assuming you were on the other team, beliefs that were so morally safe that it made him sick to the stomach.
Instead, you threw your hands up in surrender and invited him to tea. He had never been so dumbfounded.
The more he spoke to you, with your open mind and heart, the more he wanted to understand you.
But now... it was time to let that go. It was time to wrap these silly discussions of what ifs and dive into a world of reality. His plan of action, almost after all these long, long years, was finally underway. If he had to sacrifice everything, then so be it.
"We can't meet anymore," he told you.
You blinked in surprise, nearly choking on your cup of tea. "What? Why?"
He smiled calmly, crossing his legs. "It'll be too dangerous to meet."
"And how does that concern me? I'm a sorcerer."
"You will be put in a position you'll regret. Society will be onto you... onto your relations with me," he said. "So forget about me."
You stood up, slamming your hands down on the table, nearly knocking over the cups of tea. "How could say that? After all this time, you're just going to leave?"
It was nothing new. Not the first time he left someone. He had left Gojo Satoru, Shoko Ieiri, everyone at Jujutsu High, and now, you. He shouldn't have gotten close to you in the first place, knowing that his destiny was sealed. So why did he have to go around and be selfish again? Did he miss all those old days with his former best friend? The days that could never be returned?
There was no point reliving the past.
You grabbed his hand, desperation at length. "Fine. Say you do go through with this. Come back alive."
He grinned, the corners of his creasing. "I cannot promise you anything. I am going up against the strongest sorcerer of all time."
His hand dropped to your head, feeling the rustle of your [h/c] head. Your expression darkened, stressed lining your usual carefree face. Upon seeing it, he fought tooth and nail from wanting to comfort you, to whisper you words of assurance. Instead, he pulled away, preparing himself mentally to harden himself again. If he was able to do it once, he could do it again. It would be no different.
"Forget me. And stop being a halfhearted sorcerer."
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GOJO SATORU
As the most powerful sorcerer, nothing could stand in Gojo Satoru's way. If so, then why did you have this uneasy feeling at the mention of the ongoing plan for Shibuya?
Being called on deck to help out the sorcerers, he was beginning with his preparations. He was going to leave. Leave you here to your worries, like the selfish being he was. With his overconfidence that nothing could go wrong as long as he was there, he often overlooked the small things that could trigger a domino effect.
His all-seeing eyes still had a blind spot. You knew that better than anyone.
"You're staying here," he said to you. His reminiscent blues eyes stared intensely at you, swirls of storm washing at bay. They spat back at you, mocking you, for your lack of strength. A finger crept up to the blacks of his blindfold, slipping it downward to cover said hues in slumber.
"No... Let me go."
"You'll only get in the way."
You bristled, poking at his chest, which was a little too solid for your liking. "You didn't have to say it like that."
He sighed and then reached his hand out, ruffling your hair into a mess. "I'm just saying. There's a lot of non-sorcerers to deal with. Your technique won't be useful there. And you need to rest up. You just came back from a different mission."
"I'm just getting a bad gut feeling about you, Satoru."
He snorted and pointed at himself for the dramatics. "Me? We're talking about me over here. I will be fine. Aw, so cute though... my little [Name] is worrying about me!"
Pulling you into a hug, he wrapped his arms around you tightly. The familiarity of his soft cologne, earthy and sandalwood, wafted through your nose, spreading past your mind the memories you had with him. The days had flown through like quicksand, too fast for you to catch on.
You were tired of it. Of Gojo Satoru being the strongest. And the burden that came with it.
"Just sit this one out, hmm? I'll be back before you know it."
"What if you also stay out of this one? It could be a trap they had set up."
He stared at you incredulously, his smile dropping instantly. "Don't joke like that. I cannot afford to sit out. This is my responsibility. The fate of Tokyo relies on me."
You hated it.
You hated his recklessness with so called fate.
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t0yac1d · 16 hours
Text
Attention (C.Grimes x Fem!Reader)
Request: hi! I had a request in mind with Carl grimes where like the f! reader is being a brat because they haven’t had sex in a while and she’s starting to become really pent up so she starts acting up and stuff and Carl yk deals with her. And it involves stuff like degradation, oral(f receiving), overstimulation. And then include some aftercare afterwards where he’s all like lovey dovey and shit.
Btw no worries if you can’t write this anytime soon! 🫶🏻
Word Count: 2,017
Warnings: Smut, bratty/mean!Reader, jealous/mean!Carl, some degrading but lots of mean!Carl, biting, teasing, oral (fem receiving), overstimulation, aftercare
Notes: Idk loves, I think I like having mean!Carl around. Also, I am so fucking sorry for getting this out extremely late, it won't happen again!
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You've never been one to act out. Never been one to be impatient over something so small. Never been one to cause a problem that could've very easily been solved if talked about. But as they say, there's always, always, always, a first for everything.
It's been a little while since you and Carl have done anything intimate. Whether it had been holding hands, cuddling, kissing, or even just sex. You're aware of the huge ongoing and dangerous situation that's going on. The world has gone to shit, and it has been like that for years. So, you know that you can't always live that perfect and peaceful life you dreamed. But you just missed your boy's touch, his smell and presence so much that it started to get to you.
You lacked attention from him, he'd give you a glance and a smile when he could but other than that, you've been sleeping in an empty and cold bed.
It started a couple of weeks ago, your tone and mood shifted whenever you spoke to him. You acted colder to him than to anyone else. He had wondered if he did something to upset his girl, but before he had the chance to ask his dad called him over for help, and since then he had forgotten about it.
You then started getting a little too touchy with some of the guys, especially Ron. That made Carl feel something within, something he hasn't felt before. You've always talked to Ron, you guys were pretty close, but for some reason he felt as if right at that moment there was something else happening that wasn't friend-like.
You've tried almost every way to get Carl to react to you, including flirting with Ron to see if he'd grab you and take you to his room so you could finally feel his touch after so long. But it all failed. You were so close to giving up when you got an idea that wasn't exactly the best.
But if it gave you the possibility to be touched in anyway by your boyfriend, you'd take it.
Carl was in his room, getting dressed to go out on a run. This was your chance to:
A. Have a peaceful conversation and talk to him
Or
B. Make him feel what he unintentionally made you feel
You made sure to wear the hottest and sluttiest outfit you owned. A very short and tight shirt that showed a beautiful amount of cleavage and the miniest skirt you had in your wardrobe. But it was perfect for the weather, as it was a heat wave. So, in your defense, it was the only outfit that kept you cool in this heat!
Before you walked in the room you gave a knock on the door and announced it was you. When you got the green light to come in, you opened the door and closed it behind you.
You made your way to his full body mirror, not saying a word to him as you fixed your hair, face, and just checked yourself out while checking him out in the mirror at the same time.
"What? No 'Hi'?" he joked, walking to you, and wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you close to him.
If you weren't so upset with how he treated you these past couple of weeks, you would've leaned into his touch and sighed with content, inhaled his scent and enjoy his presence while you had him.
But you kept your composure. You stood your ground and resisted the feeling.
"Hi, Carl." you muttered, focusing on your figure more than his, you knew if you continued to glance his way you'd pounce on him.
"Hi baby," he smiled, leaning in to give your cheek a kiss. When he did you wiped it off with the back of your hand and sighed, "Don't do that, you'll ruin the blush."
Carl's face twisted in confusion, you've never cared when he kissed your face before, whether there was makeup or not. "Sorry," he apologized.
"Sure, how do I look?" you questioned, crossing your arms, making your tits push together and almost spill out of your tiny top. "Beautiful as always. Are you coming with me?" he asked. "No, I'm heading to Ron's."
Carl felt a pang in his heart and gut.
"Why?" he asked, curiosity taking over him.
"To be fucked and stuffed my love." you smiled.
You didn't even get the chance to walk to the door when Carl hooked two of fingers around the belt loop of your shorts and pulled you towards him, your back hitting his chest.
"I'm sorry, what?"
"What?" you asked, tilting your head.
"I must've heard your pretty mouth wrong. Why are you going to Ron's?"
"To be fucked and stuffed." You repeated, looking up at him, "Don't you have somewhere important to be? Like leaving me again for the fourth week in the row?"
The cogs in Carl's head turned and a lightbulb went off, "You're acting like this because I've been busy?"
"No, I'm acting like this because I'm practically in a relationship by myself."
"So, you dress like a whore and tell me you're going to get fucked by your friend? You're funny." he chuckled, turning you so your body would face him.
"I'm not joking. If you won't fuck me, I'll just go to someone who will. Someone who I know would fuck me better than-"
Carl grabbed your jaw and forced you to shut your mouth, "What was that? I couldn't hear you; can you say that again for me?"
You whimpered, hands tugging at the hem of his shirt.
"Get on the bed and lay on your back." he said as he let go of your face.
"And if I don't?" you teased, your lips getting closer to his, ghosting over them. "Get the fuck on the bed, bitch."
You giggled and lied down on the bed, he wished he could be mad at you for saying those things. But he can't. He just can't.
You look too beautiful and dreamy with the way you were splayed out on his bed.
"This is funny to you sweetheart?" he asked, hovering over you, kissing your neck and leaving bite marks over the skin. "Just a little," you sighed.
Carl hummed and made his way down to your shorts. He unbuttoned them and pulled them down. He kissed the inside of your thigh and softly bit them.
You were soaked, you just knew there was a wet patch on the middle of your panties from how desperate you were for Carl. He looked up at the wet spot and smirked, "I haven't even started yet, and you're already soaked."
"Not for you, that's for sure." you said, crossing your arms. "Not for me?" he asked.
"No. Not for you."
He hummed at your response and his fingers grazed against your clothed cunt. Your body shivered at his touch, and you sucked in a breath.
He toyed with your clit through your panties and lightly touched it.
He slid your panties to the side and teased your aching, begging, wet hole with a finger.
He moved his hand back and got off of the bed. "What are you doing?" you asked, "Well, you're not wet for me, right? You're wet for him."
"You can go to him to cum." he smiled.
Well, this didn't go as planned. He was supposed to deal with you, but he's just, leaving?
"So, you're leaving your girlfriend here?" you asked, "No, I'm leaving a brat here. Tell my girlfriend I'll be back."
"Your girlfriend is gonna be fucking another guy on your bed." you mumbled, Carl scoffed and turned back to you. He spread your legs and pulled your panties off of your body.
He pushed your legs up to your chest and dipped head low.
You felt his tongue lick and lap at your folds and juices. Drinking you and tasting your essence. You were so horny and pent up from the lack of sex that you didn't need much to cum. His tongue alone was doing the job.
Your whines and moans grew louder and louder, you were so close to cumming on his tongue. Your mind was foggy and empty, the only thing in that head of yours was that you got what you've been missing.
Your moans began to break as you felt yourself about to cum, that's when you felt Carl's tongue leave from between your legs.
"Apologize." he said, "W-What," you stuttered, "Apologize for the things you said."
"Um, I'm s-sorry,"
"Say it like you mean it."
He pushed his knee close to your pussy, the friction making your toes curl.
"I do mean it!" you cried out,
Carl didn't really believe you; he didn't believe you meant it but that's fine. He'll just get it out of you.
He spread your legs once more and dipped his head between your thighs and kept your legs on his shoulders. He shoved two fingers and his tongue in your hole and curled them.
You came all over his tongue and fingers, panting and wiping sweat off of your forehead.
You thought that was all until Carl cleaned his fingers and dove back in. Your hand flew to his head, you were so sensitive right now. You were always sensitive after you came, and Carl knew that he also wanted to take advantage of that.
Again, it didn't take much for you to cum, but each time you did he would just go back in. He wouldn't give you a break and you started to feel tears fall down your face from the stimulation.
"Apologize and this will be the last one. If I don't believe you, we'll just keep going."
He's been repeating that over and over and over again. You've apologized more than you can count on both hands.
"I didn't mean it! I didn't mean when I said I was going to fuck Ron! I-I didn't mean it when I said he was better!" your whines broke your sentence up so much, you sounded so pretty, and looked so slutty.
So messy.
Your hair clung to your skin, your mascara ran down your face and you were shining with a coat of sweat. Your skin was hot, and your cheeks were flushed. You were a mess. And it was all because of him.
You felt Carl smile and he made you cum one last time before kissing up your sweaty legs, stomach, chest, neck and face. "You want anything? Water or a snack?" he asked, "Water.." you said, your voice not even above a whisper.
Carl left his room to grab a cup of water and some snacks. He gave you the water as he went to run a cool bath for you. He came back to his room and picked you up bridal style. "Can't wait to carry you up like this through the threshold." he chuckled sweetly.
He sat you down on the tub and helped you take your shirt off and wiped your makeup off for you.
"Get in, let me clean you." he softly spoke. His tone was different from before, guess he just matched the energy you were giving him before.
You sat in the tub as Carl lathered your body in soap and cleaned you off. He was so sweet to you. He wouldn't hurt you, not on accident, never on purpose. "I'm sorry for the way I acted." you spoke up, breaking the silence.
"It's okay love. You were just upset that I haven't been treating you like my girlfriend and I understand that. But say shit like fucking Ron again and I'm beating him and fucking you like a whore."
You smiled and giggled at his words, "You'd like that," he said, shaking his head, "I would."
"Freak." he joked.
It was times like these that made you remember that he in fact did love you. Even when you acted out and got moody, he still loved you and cared for you deeply.
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