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#nightly's power hour
nightlydreamer · 1 year
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i also really really really want to know what Chaos' deal is, he's like the emotional support angel or smth, like obviously he knows way more than he lets on but i'm fascinated by the quiet thread that's been playing out of him wanting to help more but being held back in some way
i really love the whole cast tbh and i also think, predictably, chaos is my favourite however
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elminsters · 5 months
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i'm trying to make a little ask game about baldur's gate platonic relationships but i'm struggling a little to come up with more questions i think people would be interested in answering, so if you have any ideas please let me know hehe
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sixftmp3 · 9 months
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my coworkers the other day were talking about how they just push through being sick. i dont understand how they do that. when im sick im out for the count for like 3-4 business days or until i no longer need to accompany my meals with acetaminophen. like i barely feel like a human when im sick and you're out here WORKING??? FOR STARBUCKS??? dog your health and wellbeing is worth more than that
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satoruhour · 9 months
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LAUNDRY DAY
a/n: I AM ALLIVEEEEEEE 🔥🔥🔥🔥 sorry i had a crazy week! can be read as a standalone piece but based off gojo’s roommate au of here and here / tagging @jabamin @hyomagiri @utahimeow @lov3rbody ☆
wc: 4k
warnings: sub!gojo that turns into dom!gojo, fem!reader, fantasising? gojo is a pervert too, mentions of semi-public sex, implied somnophilia, panty sniffing, pillow / dry humping, m! masturbation, oral (m receiving), deep-throating, praise, pet names, unprotected sex, multiple rounds, creampie / breeding kink, n*sfw under the cut
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living with you was hard. brushing his teeth with you was hard. being around you — hard. both figuratively and—
there’s a loud sigh from you.
clearly tired from the day’s activities of ushering in freshman after freshman, you lugged your body into the bathroom. the same rehearsed words have been leaving your mouth as your cheeks hurt more and more by the hour, only to repeat it all over again the next day.
“you look like shit,” it’s muffled by the way the toothbrush is stuffed into his mouth, foam peeking out from the corners of his mouth and you’re trying not to tell your roommate (and boyfriend) to shut up — you didn’t have the energy to do, much less say anything and you certainly didn’t have time for your lover’s clever quips so late in the night.
it didn’t help that you recently had an argument too; well, trivial to him but much more major to you. it was a matter of getting gojo to keep his laundry properly and to clean up after himself once he’s gotten himself comfortable in the relationship. it’s not like he doesn’t want to — he was cleaning up in the first place to impress you — but now since he’s got you, it’s like he simply expects you to act as his little wife when it was a shared space. the exact argument you used against him.
“satoru— this is a shared apartment! you can’t just leave tteokbokki cups lying around with the gochujang sauce still inside! it’s going to attract cockroaches and ants!” you gesture wildly, the sheer amount of trash lying around making you even sicker than you thought possible. getting paid to usher in freshmen and then coming home to this? it felt like every cent of your hard work had gone to waste.
there’s only a grin on his face, “you’re so attractive when you’re mad, baby.”
that was another thing: the lack of seriousness that gojo possessed at times, simply talking to piss you off, simply living to be the bane of your existence. “and you’re fucking unbelievable, gojo satoru. clean up— or don’t,” you made sure to lace that last word with venom, “i don’t care.”
that seemed enough for gojo to snap out of his stupor, “no, no— princess, fuck, i’m s—” his brows furrow when he briefly spots the thickening glaze of your eyes, possibly filling with tears before you’re marching into your room to slam the door and he swears to himself. satoru had never felt embarrassment and shame and sadness like that day; having just taken a shower but his skin was sweaty and uncomfortable and his heart sat right at his feet.
gojo swears he never wants to hear you say his full name ever again.
since then, it’s been a little tense between the two of you. geto had noticed it on movie night, shoko realised you haven’t been looking at your phone as often. hell, even prof. yaga had to tell you that you were distracted way too much lately, and it’s only been two days.
satoru tried to possibly take back what he said with whatever powers he didn’t possess, but he only gets another sigh from you as you squeeze the toothpaste out and start brushing your teeth, not even sparing him one glance in the mirror.
and yet while he was the first one to start his nightly routine, he’s left to be the last again from the way he’s unable to stop staring at you, a recurring trait of his whenever you were in the same room with him. it’s a testament of how attracted he was to you — at how his shirt slips off your shoulder from how big it was because even when you were mad at him, you forgot about that little detail. gojo’s eyes trail from your exposed shoulder to your legs and back up again to your fatigued face. he skims over the shape of your eyes and down to your nose and he thinks he’s the luckiest man to be brushing his teeth beside you now, blessed with seeing such an intimate side of you even if it’s as simple as this.
until gojo’s eyes fall upon your mouth as your toothbrush is doing its job of perfect innocence, cleaning some teeth, scraping off the bacteria on your tongue, except when you’re switching it from side to side all your roommate can think about if it was his dick instead. and the thought leaves him as fast it comes.
all you do is shoot him a weird look through the mirror when gojo exclaims like he was a vampire whose skin burned under the bathroom lighting, and he regains composure with ease.
“i’m fine! fine. doing a-okay.” satoru speaks through the foam and it’s spraying everywhere and you’re too tired to care before you hear another gulp when you move your toothbrush again, “sorry! sorry— continue please.”
gojo is starstruck for an entirely different reason, now, watching the toothbrush making bulges at the side of your mouth as it moves in and out and he’s left to fantasise about the many, many times you’ve gotten him in you and the warmth of everything. he can feel himself get hard under his sweatpants when you start brushing your tongue and you gag and he wants to die standing in this 30 square foot bathroom because the last thing he wants to do is sexualise something perfectly mundane.
gojo isn’t like that (well, most of the time. can’t blame him for finding you smokin’ hot).
“what the fuck is your problem?” you’re speaking through your foamy mouth now, spitting it out and proceeding to clean up with no clue of what you do to him. satoru on the other hand — terribly excited that you’d even open your mouth to talk to him after two days of endless silent treatment. 
“nothing, baby. it’s nothing, i promise.” you can’t lie at the way your heart jumps at the familiarity of it all, of being in such proximity to your lover, doing domestic things like these and the ‘baby’ and yet your pride is holding you back on everything.
you go straight to sleep, too, not wanting to entertain anything related to gojo satoru and you feel just a little bad when he looks at you with those baby blues and a sweet pout on his face. he looked especially pathetic in the bathroom, like a deer caught in headlights at just the presence of you and you want nothing more to apologise. it’s never that easy, though; you needed a promise, you needed the reassurance that he wouldn’t be leaving you to clean up after him again.
all these worries are willed away when you finally fall into slumber in your own room, body craving the warmth of satoru unknowingly. you had stolen a pillow the day before and it’s been the sole source of his scent, the only thing to keep your mind sane.
gojo’s heart drops again upon seeing you already deep in sleep, thinking he had a chance to catch you before you did, but the needines for you never goes down even now. he cannot take his mind off the way you’d run your hands through his hair or tangle your legs with his, satoru’s limbs recall the memory of you playing with his fingers and how you like to curl your arms around his neck. 48 hours is enough for him to go insane, and also maybe at how your leg was propped up on his missing pillow, hugging it so tight to your chest. you hadn’t bothered to wear pants either, so all he can see is the shape of your cunt under.
he stalks into the room and kneels in front of you, finger so tempted to run along your folds and make you wet, staring a whole minute and weighing his options until decides he doesn’t deserve it, turning away and closing your door softly.
“going now, satoru.” it’s soft when you mumble it, not even wanting him to hear before you’re stopped. you’re donning the uni orientation shirt and eyebags, a soggy sandwich from yesterday staining your bag with its smell. “what?”
“made you somethin’,” gojo’s cute like this with a frilly apron and hair band, still managing to tower over you despite the adorable get-up he’s got on, “it’s a bento.”
and you wish you could just melt the pride that runs through your bones and kiss him all over, and you break just a little. a small smile and you walk up to him, grabbing the lunchbox and pecking him softly on the cheek, turning away fast enough to not catch his fangirl moment — because you knew you wouldn’t be able to make it on time if you did.
“we still have to talk later when i come back, okay?” you call out as you put on your shoes and you steal one last glance at him, “and today’s laundry day. you know what t—”
“yes ma’am!” gojo salutes and you roll your eyes with a small smile, locking the door behind you with heat on your cheeks and the pounding of your heart. it was difficult not to break when it came to satoru, when he’s trying so hard to win back your words and love, and so tonight you’ve decided after the tiring week is when you’d finally stop running away over such a small matter.
although, gojo got caught up in something way beyond your expectations even if he had his initial intentions (which involved ordering your favourite takeout and kneeling at the front door in apology). 
your roommate lays around for a bit before grabbing some lunch and heading to the back room, a little extension attached to the kitchen with a tune on his lips. it’s clear he’s a little driven by your little innocent peck, a sign that maybe you weren’t so mad any more. for the next hour, satoru is contently doing the laundry with a smile, until—
the panties you threw in before showering must have fallen to the bottom of the pile, the same one he saw you wear last night and he thinks maybe the low humming buzz he heard last night wasn’t his imagination because when he picks it up he can smell your arousal. there’s a stain from the previous night and another pool of juices from this morning and he now knows that it wasn’t the kettle.
“dirty girl,” he grins, “both yesterday and this morning?” he’s thought about this for the longest time, always holding himself back because you found him weird enough even before you were dating, always letting you do your own separate load for your undergarments. but since you’ve gotten together, you were more comfortable, throwing it into the same laundry basket — the compulsion has never been this strong before.
gojo puts it up to his nose and smells like the pervert he is, among other times: teasing you with a hand down your pants when the two were over at your dorm, fucking you in the kitchen as they focused on the movie, pounding into you with the windows open, and he almost ascends at the scent of your pussy juices. there’s a spark that goes down right to his core and he palms his bulge unconsciously, coming to his senses when the washing machine beeps.
he impatiently puts in the settings and leaves, heading straight for your room and is hit with all reminders of you. the perfume you used this morning and the body wash you share with him, walking almost under a trance to your bed where he moans at the softness of the sheets as he falls face first. it doesn’t take him much to scoot to your pillows, but the need for you is just too much.
gojo grinds his cock into the bed, whining softly as he whiffs up your natural body smell, hips moving on their own accord as he manoeuvres a pillow between his legs. he humps it like a dog, groaning and moaning and the strain on his dick is just too much, balling up the undies in his hand and his body tenses at the friction. 
“baby . . f-fuck—” satoru’s voice is high-pitched and choked, all the thoughts of you culminating into one big ball of desperation for you and he cums in his pants, tainting the fabric a darker colour than before. but he’s not done — his hips still move against the pillow, thrusting into the fluff as he rides out his orgasm, moans muffled by the pillow. “miss you . .”
gojo misses you more than anything, feeling so much distance even within the house that he flips over — by now the sun shines its golden rays a little less. the afternoon is winding down into a cool evening — and pulls at the waistband of his pants. he’s still sensitive, wrapping a hand around his hard cock and pumping and the sound that leaves his mouth is borderline slutty. with another smell of your cunt, he strokes his dick, using his cum as lube.
“oh . . r-right there— mhnng . .” satoru’s hips buck into his hand, squeezing and thumbing at his cock before unbundling your panties and wrapping them around his shaft. the sight drives him insane. sure, it’s one of your more everyday underwear, neutral in both design and colour but he can feel the fabric get wetter and wetter from how much cum he’s pushed out earlier and that’s enough to keep his hand pumping. “s-sweetness, cummin—”
gojo’s head makes a dent in your other pillow from how hard he was pushing it, back arching at how the warmth in his hand will never compare to your mouth or pussy. he can already feel his second orgasm approaching, your room filled with the squelch of his cock and his sounds and he shoots his load with a drawn out moan all over your panties and his stomach. his cum is always so much, dripping down his pelvis and onto his hand and also . . yours?
your boyfriend lets out the girliest scream you’ve ever had the pleasure of hearing, scrambling up to the headboard when he sees you hovering over his body. he accidentally kicks your chest in the process and you have to clutch it with a small “ow”, although a small smile is still present on your face.
“having fun?”
“dude, what the fuck?” 
your smile drops, “dude?”
gojo suddenly has his hands moving frantically, “nonono— no, sorry, i meant baby!”
you sigh, sitting back down on your heels as you take in the sight: his still hard cock and the sweat lining his body. his bangs are wet and your eyes flit down to your soiled underwear.
“uh . . i was just borrowing it,” gojo nervously chuckles, handing the cum-filled panty to you and your brows furrow.
“darling, you can’t just give someone back their clothes with your come on it.”
and your boyfriend pouts again, “i really am sorry. and for everything else, too. for not cleaning up and for being a general bum,” this is why you also (sometimes) favoured his unseriousness when you were talking about difficult things. the amount of times you had succumbed to his touches and kisses when you were mad at him was much better than your pride. gojo brings you onto his lap like his dick wasn’t just out, and you relish in the closeness you’ve missed.
“i need you to show me you mean it, ’toru,” he lights up at the nickname he loves just as you point a finger in his face, “aht! calm down. don’t think we’re all buddy-buddy again.”
“i will try,” gojo is smooth, taking your hand into his while the other brushes the hair away from your eyes. you lean into the touch, “and i will try until you see my efforts.”
you smile at his honesty, “and i’m sorry for ignoring you as well. it was childish of me.”
gojo hums, bringing your face in to plant a kiss to your lips, “i missed you like crazy, princess.”
you laugh, “yeah i can tell, i miss you too.” you gesture to all of him and he whines softly at the joke, squeezing your waist.
“you’re not weirded out?”
his breath hitches when you move down his body and situate yourself between them, finger tracing his tip and teasing him, “why would i be? i’ve literally fucked myself wearing your shirt.”
gojo gulps loudly, “you did w-what?”
“i’m just better at not getting caught.” all words are taken from his lips then, when your mouth engulfs him and the feeling of it is just pure insanity. gojo pants and his thighs tense, a hand gathering your hair into a ponytail to keep it from interfering. his eyes fixate on the way your suck him off, recalling the last time he’s watched you do that was in a damn bathroom. 
“y-your mouth—” satoru swears under his breath when you swirl your tongue around his shaft, the tip of his cock making bulges on the side of your mouth and it only leaves him calling out your name time after time.
“y’know,” you gargle on him, slurping up his cum, “i know what you were thinking starin’ at me last night.”
gojo snaps his fingers and mumbles out a shaky damn, because he can always be read like an open book. he just didn’t know he was that obvious.
“looked cute staring,” you mutter around him, “like a little puppy.”
you slap his thick length on your tongue, moaning when you feel just how heavy it is, “you just wanted this so bad, didn’t you?”
gojo whines at your words, nodding, and you go back to the abuse on his dick, bobbing your head up and down as your hand plays with his balls. the other moves over his torso, at the porcelain skin there and you can feel his stomach heaving at your ministrations.
“are you close, baby?” you ask mindlessly, the lewd sounds of his fat cock in your mouth sending sensations right down to your sex as well. you never really listen to his answer, taking a deep breath and sucking in your cheeks and soon you’re deep throating your lover.
“mh— mmf . .” sounds deep from your throat as your nose buries itself in his pubes, and satoru struggles to hold your tantalising stare. he can feel his tip hit the back of your throat and his moans are quick and high-pitched.
“cumming— ’m cumming,” before you come off and you go back to your pace and gojo’s small moans descend into longer ones at the feeling. his eyes roll back right into his skull as he twitches in your mouth and soon he’s spilling right into your throat and tongue.
“baby—” satoru’s eyes are squeezed tightly shut, “s-shit . .” and the sheer amount of cum always takes you off guard, sputtering over it when you drag your lips off of him. your boyfriend’s eyes are hooded and darkened, looking at how the strings of his semen droop from your mouth and connect right to his weeping tip.
“eugh, eat more veggies, ’toru. you’re bitter as fuck.” you say with a giggle, swallowing nonetheless as you wipe a hand across your mouth, “thanks for the meal.”
his spirit has certainly ascended, chest heaving and legs jelly from that mind-blowing orgasm. even he takes solace on the headboard, looking down at you with tired eyes.
“but i’m not done,” you truly weren’t, driving satoru to the brink after you’ve milked him to his limit, and yet he wouldn’t have it any other way as he thrusts into you, having had a new burst of energy after seeing your confidence wane once you’ve gotten his dick in you.
it was cute — your words breaking up and staggering as you sink down for the first time after two days, reduced merely to whines as you ride him. gojo lets you have your fun for a bit before he properly flips you over, pressing down on your lower back.
“fuck yourself onto me, baby,” he can tell you’ve missed him too by how you squeeze around him, a sly grin on his face when your hips push back onto him. he sees the tight hold you have on the silk sheets and the soft whimpers leaving your mouth. “good girl . . juuust like that.”
you’re jerking forward when he slaps your ass, letting it ripple from the force of both of his hand and your hips. but he takes over soon enough, grabbing both your arms and pulling you gently off that you’re hanging limply. and even while he does that, he’s still focused on the way your lips spread to accommodate him together with a ring of white at the base of his cock.
“that feel good? huh?” gojo mumbles, loving the way you arch your back and your head lols forward, just letting him do whatever he wants to you. you’re too far gone to even quell the ache in your thighs, too distracted by the wetness of your pussy.
“feel s— s’good, satoru—!” you moan out and like always satoru is indecisive in everything, now tugging you up to rest chest to back. “g’na cum!”
your legs spread more and more as your lover keeps you tightly pressed against him, an arm around your neck and the other, waist. wordlessly, he guides your face to the side, meeting your mouth in a sloppy, drooling kiss and his hips stutter at the way you mewl into his mouth.
“that right, princess?” he asks into your lips, relishing in your face contorting in pleasure. eyes reaching heaven and your mouth parted cutely even more when he props a leg up and his cockhead presses against your cervix ever so lightly.
“y—yeah . .” it’s a mix between a whine and a moan before the only rub of your clit from satoru’s hand sends you reeling and you’re trembling in his hold. you can feel your juices coat his length just as he cums as well, too obsessed with the way your cunt feels aeons better than his pathetic hand. he litters your skin with groans of his own, continue to fuck his cum back into you as you milk him dry with ropes and ropes of semen painting your womb white.
“good little girl,” he hums, and you sigh at the feeling of him cumming again, sensing him removing himself with you with an obscene pop! and you want to continue. you’re already moving your hips yet again, begging with small please’s but the happy-go-lucky song of the dryer interrupts the both of you. you scowl.
gojo laughs into your neck, and you’re left grumbling as he sets you down gently, letting you catch your breath before he presses a kiss to your sweaty cheek.
“i’ll handle it, baby,” satoru made a promise to you and he’ll keep it. he hurriedly pulls his sweatpants over his bottom half, “you just rest up.”
it’s not even two minutes later that you already miss him, trotting over to the laundry room in nothing but his shirt and you just watch as he removes the clothes with a certain tranquillity and delicateness that you’d like to see this sight more often and all you can muster in the moment is your arms around his middle.
and the sweetness of the moment is immediately ruined by gojo, “let’s fuck here. whaddya say?” 
your roommate and lover can only grin when you turn him around to smack him (“it’s!” slap “not!” slap “sanitary!” slap “here!��� slap), finally happy everything’s back to normal. satoru simply presses a kiss to your temple.
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diejager · 6 months
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Technical Issues Cw: smut, sex work, OnlyFans, porn, fuck machine, squirting, prostitution handjob, tell me if I missed any.
Part3
It started with a reluctant alliance between SpecGru and KorTac, two powerful PMCs that were tricked by the same employer, played and played again, unable to work alone to take them down. So both heads of the PMCs decided to work together to take down this problematic employer, which meant that they’d have to come and go between bases, sharing the same space and the same area. They were unenthusiastic about it, still holding a grudge against the other.
There was a technical issue in giving access to KoTac members sent over to the British base the right clearances for the compiled data, to-know intel and the statistics. That’s how König found himself in the database, looking up the different clearance codes to give him access to the information he needed before 1900, he only had half an hour to find the code if he didn’t want to miss the event.
Unfortunately, all he stumbled into was a page, a familiar name popping up on this person’s browser history. It was Soap’s. Sergeant John “Soap” MacTavish, the snipe and demolition specialist that König knew from both experience and intel. It was a strange find, Soap had used a public browser to watch his nightly activities and had forgotten to wipe it clean —did he even wipe his history? Something ugly flared in König’s chest, an explosive warmth of possession and envy. How could’ve he not seen him on the chat when König spent so much time on it himself?
With dilated pupils and a one-track mind, he completed his search and rushed to his room, pushing past everyone he met in the hall with his broad shoulders and even bigger ego, nostrils flaring and seeing red. He knew this kind of reaction was nonsensical, near illogical on his par, seeing the type of content he consumed, but he couldn’t help it, he was the second highest payer.
Slamming and locking the door behind him, he ripped his mask off, throwing it haphazardly on the floor and ripped his clothes off, his skin hot to the touch in his cold room. It was 1857 —perfect. Settling himself on his temporary desk in nothing but his briefs, he felt his cock struggle against the fabric, head poking out on the side of his boxers. He was quick to open up the right tab, clicking in the sweet temptation of the profile picture.
A screen popped out, a familiar bed in a familiar setting with familiar objects surrounding the plush sheets, and in the middle, sat the little cherub of his dreams. Seraphim, the little slut that he was happy to spend his legacy on, to watch and indulge in the sinful act jerking off to a woman he might never meet or know outside of this screen. He pushed his waistband down his thighs and his cock swung out, hanging low between his legs, veins pulsing with the rush of blood from his head to his cock and uncut head drooling on his chair.
👑 gifted you 100$
“Hello, sir,” you smiled so sweetly at him, glossy lips pulled into an innocent image, “Thank you for the gift.”
He always gave you a gift at the start of each live he watched to get a greeting from you and would gift you much more with ever minute he spent watching you bend over your bed, ass up and face down, getting fucked by the fuck machine he gifted you. You had two cameras set up, one that let them view your tight cunt stretched around the silicone copy of his cock - thick and veiny - and one giving them a clear view of your tearful eyes and cock drunk expression.
König kept his eyes glued to your cunt, ploughed so roughly bu his girth that slick gushed around it, lips swollen and wet, and the little plug your pushed into your flared rim, the flat handle spreading your ass for them to see. He jerked himself, calloused fingers gripping the head of his cock and spreading pre down his shaft, the foreskin spread around his girth. He shuddered, his cock throbbing in his hand, reacting to the image of your ravaged and gasping figure taking the dildo so well, mewling and wailing like the angelic whore you were.
He wanted you to come, he wanted to see you squirt around the toy, slick rolling down your thighs in waves of pleasure, your voice breaking as you mewl and wail. He moved thoughtlessly, hand moving to type out his command, sending you more money, it was an addiction at this rate, his need to sustain you and your living. If you let him, he’d be your sugar daddy, paying for everything you’d need and you’d have the real deal, his hot and heavy cock rather than a silicone.
“Please let me come, sir!” Your begging had always been delicious and who was he to deny you of your pleasure when you brought him to his ground shaking climax.
He came with a loud groan, a deep rumbling in his chest, still pumping his cock as the head twisted, spraying his opaque cum over the table, white and viscous. His eyes rolled at the back of his mind, lids feeling heavy and body wracked with tremors, legs jerking as his hand slowed down, steadily riding out his mind-numbing release.
“Them too?” Horangi peered at the four Brits, an unamused gleam in his hidden eyes.
König nodded, his hood twisting with every motion, fingers moving gracefully over his rifle, dismantling and cleaning it after their recon mission. A groan caught his attention, his eyes moving from the beauty of his weapon to the cold blues that stared back at him.
“It does not matter,” Nikto’s voice had always been violent, a rough and jagged husk that exhumed power, “We found her first.”
It was a statement to himself, a strong and unyielding one that stemmed from Nikto’s dark and broken person, but they agreed.
Part 5
Taglist: @warenai @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @havoc973 @im-making-an-effort @cutiecusp @ladyof-themoon @yourdaydreamerfan @blackhoodlea @daisychainsinknots @under-the-dirt @moansteur @iamnotfinedaddy @0alk0msan @katzarantos @danielle143 @bubbletae7
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You guys really got me to one thousand likes in less than two days.
I don't even know what's happening but it's pulling me out of a really awful writer's block.
I have more ideas than I know what to do with so expect a good bit of content in the future.
You're all incredible 💗 ❤️
Have some Shanks headcanons, ranging from fluffy to spicy. As a treat.
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I was a little iffy about Live Action Shanks at first, since he was literally my first manga/anime crush ever. But he grew on me more with every scene.
Especially that final scene where he saw Luffy's wanted poster. I mean....
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Lookit that smile 🥹
So anyway.
LA!Shanks X Fem!Reader
Shanks A — Z
A — Afterglow (How are they after sex?)
Holding you close and telling you how much he adores you.
He's going to give you anything you want. Anything.
"Do you need anything, sweetheart? I've got you."
You want a bath, he's going to run it for you, carry you there once it's ready, and help you bathe.
Food or a drink, you just lay down, he's got it.
Shanks is completely and utterly devoted to making you feel like a goddess after sex.
Showering you with soft, tender kisses and caresses and endless praise, rubbing his fingers between your wet folds to prolong your pleasure as long as possible.
If it seems like he's trying to coax you into another round, he probably is. Your're going to have to outright tell him you're if spent, because he can't get enough of you.
B — Backrubs? (Do they like them? Like giving them?)
You can expect it nightly. You're his princess and he's going to pamper you.
He might only have one hand, but dear gods those fingers are magic.
He's not asking anything in return, but if you're offering then he isn't going to turn you down.
Closing his eyes and groaning as your fingers work through the tension in his muscles.
"Oh, you're too good for me, love."
C — Cuddling (Do they enjoy cuddling a lot ot only at certain moments?)
If you're within arm's reach, then Shanks has his arm around you.
His main mode of affection is physical.
Pulling you you to his side, resting his head over yours, tugging you down onto his lap.
He wants you close, as much and as often as you're willing to be, and he does't give a damn who sees.
D — Dance (Are they good at it? Do they enjoy it?)
Not really big on dancing, but if you want to he isn’t going to turn you down.
He'll take any excuse he can get to hold you close.
Tucking your hair behind your ear so he can rest his temple against yours.
His arm curled loosely around your back.
E — Extravagant Gestures (Things they do to make you feel loved)
He would literally move mountains for you if he could.
You tell him your dreams, well now they're his dreams too.
Anything you accomplish, whether alone or with his help, warrants the most lavish of celebrations.
He isn’t particularly materialistic, but what his princess wants, she gets, no questions asked.
"If you wanted the moon, I would make this ship fly so you could stake your claim."
F — Fighting (How do they hand arguments/apologies?)
All puppy-dog eyes and pouts.
Shanks makes it impossible to stay mad at him for any reasonable length of time. He's just too damned adorable.
Wrapping an arm around you and laying his head on your shoulder, refusing to let you go until you listen.
Even if it's a serious argument, the look of utter heartbreak on his face makes you cave every time.
"Come on, sweetheart. Just name it, I'll do anything."
He isn’t too proud to apologize—he knows when he's in the wrong, and he'll do anything in his power to make it up to you.
G — Going Out (What do they do for dates?)
If Shanks is the one doing the planning, you can expect to end up one of two places.
You might be at the nearest tavern, going shot for shot on rum until you can't see straight, singing sea shanties into the dark hours of morning.
Or laid out on a secluded stretch of beach in the moonlight, sharing a bottle or two, wrapped up in each others' arms and lips and forgetting the passage of time entirely.
He's happy doing anything that means he gets to spend time with you, though, so he's fine with going out of his element if you have something else in mind.
H — Heartache (How would they handle it if you broke up with them?)
Don't. Please. Just don't. He'll be inconsolable.
He'll cry. Don't make Shanks cry. That's just heartless.
He won't show it in front of his crew. He'll keep up his usual carefree and aloof facade.
But once he's alone, he'll be in complete shambles.
He'll probably drink himself senseless.
He loves hard, with every fabric of his being, and losing you would utterly destroy him.
I — Intimacy (When are they intimate with you? And how often?)
Literally all the time.
Shanks always kisses you like no one's watching, pulling you flush against him and delving his tongue between your lips and squeezing your rear.
In his eyes, there's no wrong time to show how much he treasures you. How much he wants you.
His ship could be under fire by a full Marine armada and he would still pull you in for a slow, sweet kiss if the mood struck.
In fact he'd probably do it just to show the Marines how completely unbothered he is.
J — Joker (How do they make you laugh)
If Shanks isn't cracking some stupid joke, you're worried something is wrong.
He loves making people laugh, loves seeing people laughing and enjoying life.
And making *you* laugh? That gives him life.
He's gone far as to pull your panties on while you're alone together in the captain's cabin and imitate you being dramatic about something until you're begging him to stop before you choke to death on your own giggles.
K — Kissing (How good? How often?)
If you're within eyeshot, he *has* to kiss you.
He knows that his crew will roll their eyes and tease him about it, but he doesn't care. Your lips are like a drug and he simply can't get enough.
His kisses tend to be light and plauful.
Lightly biting and pulling at your bottom lip.
Flicking his tongue across lips to coax yours out.
Letting his tongue swirl slowly around yours before pulling back and leaving you craving more.
Pulling you into his lap when he deepens the kiss.
Lifting his hand to flip off anyone with the audacity to tell you two to get a room.
"Don't pay them any mind, princess. They're just a bunch of jealous pricks."
L — Lay down (How do they sleep with you? Are they a cuddler or do they prefer their space?)
He has to be against you in bed.
If you roll away in your sleep, he will subconsciously shift closer to you.
Spooning is definitely his favorite—your back and your ass pressed up against him, his arm draped over your waist so he can caress your stomach or lay his palm over one of your soft breasts...absolute *heaven*.
M — Making babies (Do they want to settle down and have kids?)
Shanks is good with kids, being that he's practically an overgrown kid himself half the time.
All the same, he just...isn’t sure.
He loves you to death. Having a family with you would be a dream come true.
But if he had to leave his ship, his crew behind? He just isn’t sure he could do that.
Because he loves them to death, too.
N — Nervous? (How confident are they when it comes to romance?)
Shanks posseses the positively deadly combination of being unnecessarily charming and handsome, and incredibly aware of it.
Thus, his confidence is through the roof.
He knows he doesn't need anything more than a cheeky grin and a soft carress or two to get you in bed.
That being said, he'll spend all day subtly teasing you to the end of your sanity to make sure you want him as much as it's possible to want another person.
O — Oral Fixation (Giving or recieving? And how good are they?)
Absolutely a giver. He's incredible at it and he knows it.
And he's a terrible, terrible tease about it.
Taking you to the edge, making your thighs tremble...and then pulling away to brush his lips to your thighs and give you a cheeky grin.
"Oh, not yet, love. I love hearing you beg for it."
Keeping you on the edge until you're begging to come in complete and utter desperation before he finally lets you.
And then he isn't going to stop until you're begging him to.
He loves recieving just as much.
Really loves it when you pull him down an empty alley and get on your knees.Curling his fingers in your hair, groaning quietly and praising you endlessly.
His breath shaking as he resists the urge to thrust his hips forward and fuck your throat, wanting to enjoy the slow build-up.
"That's it, sweetheart. Look at me. I want to see those pretty eyes while you suck my cock."
P — Pet Peeves (Things they don't like in a partner)
Taking things too seriously. He's always joking around and having a good time, and all he wants is for you to do the same.
The silent treatment. It drives him absolutely insane. Just talk to him if there's something wrong, he wants to fix it.
Flirting with other men to make him jealous. Just don't. It's the one thing that truly gets under his skin, that could actually get him honestly angry with you.
Q — Quiet Time (How much alone time do they need, or do they want to be with you 24/7?)
Gives you your distance if you need it, but he does so begrudgingly.
He knows life is short—he got his arm bit off by a giant sea monster, for gods' sake—and he wants to spend as much time as he can with you.
Whether you're out having fun, fighting alongside each other, or curled up together in a hammock sharing a bottle of rum and enjoying a lazy afternoon.
He loves being with you, and he'll take any excuse he can get.
R — Romance (How romantic are they? Do they have to force it or does it come natural?)
Shanks's version of romance isn't fancy dinners and extravagant date nights.
It's lying on a beach watching the sunset with you.
Pushing you into the water and diving in after you, kissing you while you're both sopping wet.
Making love under a full moon.
Telling you every opportunity he gets how much he adores you.
"You know you're my greatest treasure, don't you, sweetheart?"
It's hard not to know when he tells you at least three times a day.
But the way he looks into your eyes when he says it still manages to melt your heart every time.
S — Spending Money (How much do they like to spend on you?)
Shanks isn't really much for materialism or consumerism.
You'll have to tell him if there's something you want, and he's not going to have any oroblem with getting it for you.
Every so often, something is going to catch his eye at some market in a port town.
Something that reminds him of you or that he thinks you'll like.
And he'll buy it without hesitation and give it to you with a big, goofy grin the second he sees you.
It's not all the time, but it makes it that much more special when it does happen.
T — Trust (Are they trusting of you? Jealous?)
He absolutely trusts you—that's how love is supposed to work.
But he can get a little jealous.
You wouldn't know it from the way he carries himself and jokes about it, but he does get a little insecure about missing an entire limb.
This can lead to him getting a little defensive and possessive if other men approach you—he's going to make sure it's known that you're his lover, and he'll always fight for you.
U — Underwear (What kind do they wear, and what kind do they like on you?)
Loose-fitting boxers are more comfortable.
He doesn't care what kind of underwear you wear, as long as it comes off easily.
And if you whisper in his ear that you're *not* wearing any?
You'd best buckle up, because he's putting you over his shoulder and carrying you off to the nearest private, or even semi-private location he can find to take advantage of this information.
V — Vulnerable (How vulnerable are they with you? Is it easy for them to open up to you?)
He is one hundred percent an open book with you.
You know everything about him. His life, his secrets, his aspirations.
He doesn't want anything to ever come up that could frighten you off, so he lays everything on the table surprisingly quickly.
W — Wine and Dine (Do they prefer meals at home or going out with you? Who does more of the cooking?)
He would much rather cook, preferably with you. He's not the best at it, but he's not awful either, given that he's had to be self-sufficient for a good bit of his life.
And if you're good at it, he's not to proud to take advice.
Any time spent with you is a wonderful time to him.
If you go out, it's probably going to be street food or tavern fare—fancy restaurants aren't his forte, and he's frankly not sure he would even have anything appropriate to wear.
X — X-Rated (How good are they in bed? What do they like?)
Hopefully you like being teased literally to the edge of sanity.
Major kink for edging you, making you beg for it.
And dear sweet fuck, is he good at it.
Whispering all the things he's going to do to you throughout the course of the day.
Pulling you down an alley or into a broom closet, pinning you to the wall and teasing you through your panties, stopping just short of letting you cum.
Subtle glances and touches.
He *loves* seeing you writhing in his bed, desperate for his touch while he kisses your neck, just trailing his fingertips up and down your inner thigh.
Holding you down by your hips so you can't even grind against him.
"Such an eager little thing. Just be patient, princess. You're going to get what you want."
Kissing down your breasts, taking time to stop and tease your nipples.
Pushing your thighs apart with his knees so he can circle a finger around your entrance, chuckling a little at your moans and whimpers before finally pushing it in.
Sitting up on his knees to watch you arch your hips, rubbing against your g-spot just long enough to get you gasping.
Pulling his finger back out and slowly circling it around your clit instead, before shifting back between your thighs and giving the sensitive bud a few teasing licks, watching you shiver in anticipation.
Keeping it slow and sensual, enjoying every second of being between your thighs, building your pleasure at a slow and steady pace that drives you crazy.
Holding onto your hip keep you from grinding against his tongue.
Pulling back the second you crest toward orgasm, chuckling at your whimpering and begging as he trails his lips across your inner thigh.
"You're just so adorable when you're desperate for it."
Keeping it going for what feels like hours, before finally tugging you in close and not relenting until you're trembling and falling apart beneath him.
Feeling you throbbing under his tongue and tighten up around his fingers is like a high for him.
Not stopping until your body goes limp and the only sounds you can make are a few little whimpers.
Soft, tender kisses amd whispered praises at your neck and lips and shoulders, his fingers combing through your hair, letting you recover for just a minute, even though he's aching for you.
Grinding his cock against your wet folds a few times before sliding slowly into you, groaning quietly in your ear.
"Oh, fuck, you're tight, love..."
Absolutely savors every second of being inside you, moving in long slow strokes, brushing his thumb across your cheek while he kisses you.
If you ask for it harder, he's going to give it to you—he's done with teasing you now. This is about you now, about what his princess wants.
And if you want it rough, then you're coming out of it with your neck and chest half-covered in hickies, and he's not stopping until he's sure you won't be able to walk tomorrow morning.
Holding back just long enough so you can climax at the same time, grunting out a quiet swear and pulling your hips flush against his to come deep inside you.
Slow, deep kisses while you both catch your breath and come down.
But don't be surprised if he's gearing up for another round soon. He really can never get enough of you.
Y — Yearning (How long will they pursue the person they're interested in before losing interest?)
It depends. If it's purely lust based, he's not going to pursue it very long and just move on.
If the feelings run deeper, though, he's absolutely shameless about it.
Relentless flirting and corny pick-up lines.
"Pardon me miss—do you have a map? It seems I've gotten lost in your eyes and I can’t find my way out."
Will absolutely get on his knees and beg you to give him a chance if he has to.
Puppy dog eyes in full effect.
It's pretty much pointless trying to resist.
Z — Zen (What do they do to wind down and relax? Do they prefer to do it alone or with you?)
A bottle of rum, a hammock stretched between a couple palm trees on some remote beach only he knows about, and his arm curled around you while you lie back against his chest.
Kissing your temple and playing with your hair.
He's always more relaxed when he has you with him.
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ilikesillythings · 3 months
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" To my darling baby; " Vox x reader TWs ;; Yandere themes, Vox in himself is a tw (If you squint enough Al stole Vox's bitch) Requested by ;; @everywherebut
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"Two weeks.", Vox angrily muttered to Valentino, who, clearly wasn't listening as much as the TV-headed demon assumed he was.. or at all. But, in Vox's mind he had every right to be upset at the moment! Not only had you broken his electrical heart - he hadn't seen/heard from or of you in TWO WHOLE WEEKS! It felt like Vox's world had come crashing down!! And he only got even angrier when Val finally spoke up, in a bored, uninterested tone, "Uh.. Voxxy- isn't {Y/N} at that hotel? Y'know.. the one with the Radio demon? Thought I saw her outside it one time on one of your cameras."
This didn't sit right with Vox. His precious {Y/N}, at that shitty hotel? With radio fossil trash? This could not be happening. With quick movements, Vox ran out of the room, straight into the elevator, hands frantically pressing the 'down' button.
You, on the other hand, had been having a great time. Charlie was welcoming, when she had seen you at the doorstep, in your nightly attire, tears filling up your eyes, she had immediately taken pity upon you, ushering you inside. After two long years with Vox, you had grown to hate him. He was arrogant, loud, rude, and never spared you a glance anymore.
Running away was hard enough, as you knew very well he could spy on people through the TV screens he had displayed, the electronics from his brand, and cameras. But the Hazbin hotel was the one place you felt to be safest. Yeah, the Radio demon was there, one of the most dangerous overlords, though his reputation smudged into old tales after his absence, and yes, the princess of Hell, Charlie, ran it, but she seemed like nothing more than a harmless puppy. Alastor, on the other hand, was in fact scary as fuck,
But, he never made an attempt to frighten you, to harm you. Nor did he ever demand information on his 'rival', despite having heard about your past affiliations with the demon. He was a sort of gentleman, to most at least.
Maybe if you were someone else, you'd be eternally paranoid, for good reason, of course. You had broken up with a powerful overlord, who had many souls, and a lot of power at his fingertips. If he wanted to; he could find you. Yet, he hadn't. You were safe at this dingy hotel. Somehow you had managed to be safe.
Or, that's what you had thought up until now. To be completely honest, you had forgotten all about your ex. Until he showed up at the hotel's door.
You could hear him shouting from outside, unluckily for you, it was only you and Nifty at the hotel. "{Y/N}! I KNOW YOU'RE IN THERE! BABY- PLEASE, I'M SORRY!" he screamed, voice sounding strained, which made sense when you realized he had been shouting for about two hours now. Not wanting to talk to him directly, you made your way upstairs, to the balcony, and leaned over the edge, annoyance evident on your face.
His electrical face lit up, digital eyes widening with awe. Perhaps for you, this was an irritating encounter, as you had been hoping to simply relax all day, still dressed in last nights clothing from when you had gone to bed. For Vox?
It was like he was Romeo, and you his Juliet. An angel sent from above to grace this poor, poor sinner. "Oh- baby! There you are!" he exclaimed, relief evident in his strained voice, "C'mon, get down from there, and we can-"
He paused as you raised your hand, "I'm not going home with you, Vox." you sternly stated to the annoyance below you, who in tern, stared at you in shock. Before guffawing, shaking his rectangular head, "You've always been so good at jokes!" he praised earnestly, clapping his hands, "But, now it's time to go home!"
For a moment, you scowled at him, before turning on your heels and walking back inside, ignoring the loud protests from Vox, begging you come out, begging you to come back to him.
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yandere-writer-momo · 2 months
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For my birthday, I decided to finally drop the Jack Hanma smut piece! Enjoy
Yandere Baki Short Stories:
Carne
Yandere Jack Hanma x Female Reader
TW: Cannibalism as a metaphor for love, blood kink, smut, YANDERE, etc.
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Hands desperately clawed at the table in front of (your name) in an attempt to ground herself. Pants and wanton moans spilled from her lips as she was driven to the brink of insanity…
“This is what you get for teasing me.” A deep voice snarled in her ear and his hips pistoned into hers. His monstrous length slid between her damp folds as a puddle of their fluids dripped beneath them. (Your name)’s toes were over feet off the ground while her legs dangled in the air since Jack held her body up with his strong arms. “Always flaunting yourself around the other fighters. Parading around in those tight clothes like a whore.”
(Your name)’s head lulled to the side, a loud groan spilled from her swollen lips. Jack had been abusing her poor lower lips with his monstrous length for hours now. The stream of fluid leaking from her pussy was unending. (Your name) wasn’t even aware that Jack had any feelings for her. Their relationship was mostly physical. A no strings attached sort of arrangement. How was she to know he would grow jealous of her friendly banter with the other martial artists?
Jack was simply an outlet for her pent up frustrations, just like (your name) was an outlet to build ‘strength.’ His half brother, Baki, had put a worm in his ear that sex made one more powerful and Jack had approached her with that intention only… until he became attached. Until Jack became so overbearing and protective of her.
Wherever she was, Jack was never far. The blonde tank always stood guard over her. Whenever she’d confront Jack, he’d deny that he had feelings but (your name) knew the truth. She just didn’t care to correct him. Jack was a man one never wanted to anger. Jack was more of a beast than a man, one who would rip his apart like wrapping paper if they even looked in his direction funny. And she would like to keep that animalistic nature of his strictly in the bedroom.
Jack used to leave her in early hours in the morning after a nightly tryst, but now he stayed with her and cuddled. Sometimes he even made (your name) breakfast in bed. This development terrified her because (your name) never gave him any indication that she wanted a romantic relationship. She was always civil with him and treated him like a human being. She didn’t understand why he interpreted kindness as love. But perhaps it had something to do with his rough upbringing.
Jack was a man who felt like he didn’t deserve love nor life since he was brought into this world from hate. A man who only lived for revenge and nothing more… a man who now found solace in (your name)’s arms and in between her legs. A man who would never leave her side until she was completely his. Jack would drown her in his sea of affection until she adapted to be able to breathe in it.
(Your name) was swallowed whole in his musky, woodsy scent. The strong scent of pine overwhelmed her senses. All she could feel was Jack. All she could smell was Jack. Jack. Jack. Jack.
She came undone once more when his titanium teeth lightly grazed against the soft skin of her shoulder. Her walls grasped the empty space while his length ran between it. (Your name) desperately wanted him to fill her. To stretch her poor, weeping cunt until she was satisfied.
And in an instant his teeth sunk into her neck hard enough to draw blood, but not hard enough to rip a chunk of her off like he did to his opponents. His strong pink muscle darted out to greedily lap at the blood that trickled down her skin. His mouth now stained scarlet.
“Everything about you is so delicious… I can’t get enough of you.” Jack muttered into (your name)’s skin, his cinnamon eyes hazy with lust. “What kind of witchcraft have you cast on me?”
(Your name) gasped when he used a hand to tilt her chin up to look at him. A smirk on his face at how dazed her expression was.
“You’re so beautiful.” (Your name) could barely move when he bent down to kiss her. She could taste the iron of her own blood on his tongue as the strong muscle dominated hers. His large hand lights pressed against her through that left her absolutely breathless. The pace of his brutal thrusts never ceased.
Drool dripped out of the sides of her mouth and onto her bruised chest. Various bruises and bite marks littered her skin in a grotesque picture of love.
(Your name) was so lost… where did she begin and where did Jack end? How could a man consume her entirety to the point that she melted into him? That her blood mixed with his in a gory display of devotion?
“I love you. I love you so much.” Jack whispered in her ear as he dragged his tongue across the salty tears that fell down her cheeks. Had she been crying? (Your name) hadn’t even realized. “I love you so much, I want to become a part of you.”
A loud cry escaped her lips when she felt Jack’s hips start to slow, his grip on her throat never ceased. His cinnamon eyes filled with a voracious hunger she knew only her entire being could quench.
“You’re mine. No one else can have you. I don’t want to be with anyone else.”
And that’s when he finally shoved himself inside. His tongue tangled with hers and (your name) came on his length again. She could feel him spill himself inside her fluttering walls with a goal in mind. A goal he’d never reach since he was infertile from excessive steroid usage.
(Your name) went limp like a noodle while his viscous seed spilled from between her legs. Jack’s strong arms still held her up. His lips pressed hot kisses all over her face.
(Your name) slowly reached her hands up to cup his cheeks. A few tears spilled from Jack’s eyes while he shuddered. His lungs gasped for breath but he couldn’t help but hold his in anticipation. Jack wanted to know her answer, he wanted to know if his twisted feelings were reciprocated.
“I’m yours.”
Yes, she’d accept Jack. There was no one else in this world that has ever been attached of this broken man’s side and she’d be that person. She’d be his solace. (Your name) would be his meal.
For limerence and love were merely separated by a thin line.
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battylovinstuff · 11 months
Text
Midnight Kisses
Jason Todd x Fem!Reader
Summary: Typically Jason would stay out all night, but you are surprised to see him fast asleep when you wake up to use the restroom.
Contents: Fluffy Fluff with a little angst
Masterlist
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You told yourself not to, but you decided to drink a glass of water before bed. Mostly because you wanted to spend a little more time with your boyfriend, Jason. While you took little sips of water, he was suiting up for his nightly patrol. You hated this part, you wanted to go to bed with him...just once. Just once you wanted to go to bed with him snuggled up  with you. Even though you wanted this, you never complained...Gotham needed Red Hood. 
Jason noticed however; A perk of being partially raised by Batman. He noticed recently how some of his gear would go missing from its intended spot, only to end up somewhere that he would never put it. Then he noticed how you would prolong your conversations, so he would leave later. Lastly he noticed how sad you looked when he left. 
Now you were waking up because you had to use the restroom. The apartment was cold, and you were regretting that glass of water. You really didn't want to get up from the bed. When you sat up, you felt a weight going across your stomach. Looking down you see an arm that belonged to Jason. Confused, you turn your head to the clock and saw that it was midnight. You'd only been asleep for two hours? Carefully you slid out of bed and quickly went to the restroom. 
When you came back, Jason was sitting up in bed while rubbing his eyes, "Where did you go?" He mumbled, sleep heavily laced in his voice. You smiled and jumped back in bed, "I missed you." He said as he wrapped his arms around you to bring you back down onto the pillows. 
"Aren't you supposed to be fighting crime? What would Batman say if he saw this?" 
"That old man will get over it."
You rolled your eyes and pressed your lips to Jason's cheek. You lips then made their way around his face and lastly to his lips, "I'm going to tell him you said that at dinner tomorrow." You whispered. A small laugh escaped your lips when you saw the soft glare that Jason gave you. 
You continued to pepper kisses on his face and watched as it relaxed him enough that he fell right back to sleep. You'd forgotten the last time he was able to get a good night's rest. Your hand caressed his cheek lovingly before you gave his jaw one final kiss and snuggled into his neck. 
At first you wanted to cry because of him being gone, but now you wanted to cry from him being here. You never said a word to him, but he still knew what you were feeling. As you lay there with him, you couldn't help but thank whatever higher power there was for blessing you with this man. He isn't perfect and neither are you, but you couldn't picture yourself with anyone else. Jason Todd was all you wanted, and all you needed.
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nightlydreamer · 1 year
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Gotta say one of my favourite things about xenosaga is being able to vaporize shit while Shion is carrying a full plate of curry in her hands, like, BOOM :)
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hazelfoureyes · 2 months
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The Safeword is RadioApple (part 4)
Part 1 ꒰აMaleReader✧FemaleReader໒꒱ Part 2 ꒰აFemaleReader໒꒱ Part 3 ꒰აAlastorxLucifer໒꒱ tidbit (cute, not smut) Part 4 ꒰აFemaleReader໒꒱✨NEW✨ ₊⊹⁀➴ Lucifer wins⟡Alastor Wins
Happy SunSinday! I really hope you like this. Thank you to @sugoi-writes for treating me to the coffee that helped me power through this. I’ll need like, atleast half a day of no writing to recover the mental exhaustion 😂 I’ll be back Monday to catch-up on all the comments and inbox from the last 2 days!
Lucifer lets fate decide how he and Alastor will show their dear kitten their teamwork skills.
「warnings/promises apply to both routes: RadioApple x FemReader, threesome, Lucifer x Alastor anal, p in v, soft breeding kink, Luci calls himself Daddy, biting, choose your own adventure, heaven ain’t got shit on Luci, fingering, tentacle fucking, cuddling, creampies, cum fucking, lots of deer references partially because of @n-after-me’s latest fic, sweet words, Happy Luci」
Deer Duck Kitten
Finally. You finally had both men in a place where you could enjoy each other as a group, instead of just you getting fucked by two people at the same time. 
You had half recovered from your hangover by early afternoon, but the little slip you made earlier in the day was just causing a new headache to emerge.
When the men both questioned what exactly you had meant, you decided the best option was to take your own advice and shut the fuck up. So shut the fuck up you did, for a solid three hours, while lying in your bed face down.
New problem now. Perfect. 10/10, you suck. 
Alastor and Luci were huddled in a corner of the lobby, two arm chairs pulled together and facing away from the others.
To Alastor, you had said something unspoken until then. The only difference that he could see was his …embracing of Lucifer’s inclusion in your relationship.
Lucifer was partially blind, the stars orbiting his head shining too brightly for him to see or think properly.
“Was that normal?” Lucifer asked.
“Not for us, no.” 
Lucifer, unblinking, “It’s too soon for sure for us.”
Alastor’s static aura flickered, “Obviously.” Lucifer glared.
“She’s obviously happy we got along so…well?” 
Alastor nodded.
“So let’s show her our teamwork in action! Let’s take care of her. Together.” He winked, making Alastor grimace.
“Take care of her how? Because she’s sick?” You were still hungover.
“No… take care of her.” Lucifer’s brows rose up and down, saying the words a little louder.
The air around Alastor snapped, a crackle of static returning, “I’m not deaf, I just don’t understand what secret meaning you’re hinting at.”
The normally patient and polite king’s face scrunched before he grabbed Alastor by the lapels and pulled him close, seething, “Take care of her. In bed. Sex. Fuck her.”
Alastor scowled, dark gums peaking past his lips, “We do that nearly nightly in some fashion, your majesty.”
Nose pressed to nose, forehead to forehead, “I am going to fucking kill you.”
While what they were saying wasn’t audible, Angel was adding his own narration to the video he was taking, “I’m gonna fuck you, Radio Demon.” He attempted a regal voice. “Not if I fuck you first! ha ha ha,” His best shot at a trans-Atlantic accent.
“You’re insufferable. Just speak plainly!”
Lucifer opened his mouth to reply but instead of words, a choked noise as he turned his face away. A deep blush now rising up his neck to his cheeks. A flash of a memory of Alastor’s dark eyes looking down at him over his wet body, stomach bulging with every thrust. Could he really say it out loud?
“Oh.” Alastor sat back in his chair, “She and I haven’t…” he searched for a delicate word, “Explored other avenues.”
Now who wasn’t speaking plainly?
“Well we could rearrange the order a little.” Lucifer sandwiched his hands together in hopes he could keep the details unspoken.
Alastor hummed, “Who would be in the middle, so to speak, if not my-”
“Our.” Lucifer cut him off.
A sinister snarl of a grin, “-dear.”
Lucifer put out a fist, “Did you know rock paper scissors or are you too old timey for that?”
“Loser has to hold open their gaping hole and-,” Angel jumped and nearly dropped his phone when Charlie bounced up beside him.
“Awww Dad and Al are playing games together!”
He snickered, tears forming in his eyes, “Yeah like tugga war and hide the pickle.”
“I think it’s called tug-of-war, Angel.”
Angel patted her on the head and turned to flee, “Good catch, princess. Nothin’ gets by you.”
They couldn’t decide who would knock, so both did. You weren’t ready for the conversation yet, having to explain it was just an expression and not intended to be a declaration. You and Alastor used many other words instead; my beloved, I adore you, my love. You had found comfort in the steadiness of his adoration, never a fear he would leave so you never worried much at the lack of direct ‘I love you’.
But …. Luci. You could see in his face how desperately he needed to be overshadowed with someone’s love. To be the one to eclipse all of his insecurities with a warm blanket of consistent affection? You’d die again for the opportunity. Just—- not yet. Certain words are meaningless without action. And you hadn’t done much more than cuddle and have sex. You needed to show him your love before you said anything about it. 
Another set of knocks. You whined, they didn’t deny you anything so how could you deny them? “What?”
“Kitten?” mixed with “Dear.” from outside the door.
You called them in, not watching as Luci beelined for the bed and Alastor closed and locked the door as quietly as possible to not bother you. 
“Does your head still hurt?” Lucifer slid up to your right side. You opened your eyes, turning your head to him. 
“No.”
He smiled. You felt the bed dip, Alastor settling to your left. 
“Are you feeling otherwise unwell?” Alastor asked. Rolling off your stomach to turn fully to Alastor now, surprised at the gentle conversation. You had anticipated an interrogation. 
“I’m fine now. Just don’t feel like moving much so… bed.” Luci’s hands slipped over your waist as he cuddled into your backside. You couldn’t help the smile you made. Alastor kissed your forehead, and your smile grew. Much more tender of an interaction than usual. Normal events involved you passed between the two, them taking turns with your attention when not actively having sex.
You were the little buffer between them. It always felt like they were trying to enjoy you without needing to realize the other demon existed in the room at all. 
Alastor made a show of taking his hand and sliding his fingers into Lucifer’s, resting on your waist. 
Manually breathing, you tried to keep your face neutral to not scare away the moment. 
Luci propped himself up and leaned over you. When Alastor leaned too, receiving a kiss from Luci on the lips you rolled onto your back. You’d never seen the Eiffel Tower from underneath but as you stared directly up as Lucifer kissed Alastor again, and again, you could imagine what it must be like to be under such a grand display. This was the first time you’d seen them intentionally touch each other… other than attempted murder. 
Did Lucifer win rock paper scissors? Cum here
Did Alastor win rock paper scissors? Smash this
༻Masterlist༺
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🏹Alastor stalkers: @celestial-vomit , @amurtan ,@valkyrie-expeditions
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yandere-daydreams · 1 year
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Title: Vampiric.
Pairing: Yandere!Miguel O'hara x Reader (Spiderverse).
Word Count: 1.4k.
TW: Vampire AU, Blood and Violence, Unbalanced Power Dynamic, Predator/Prey Dynamics, Implied Past/Future N0n///C0n, and Obsessive Behavior.
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He came to you in the midnight hours.
You’d learned, by now, to wait for his nightly visits in privacy, to sit on the corner of your bed farthest from your window and listen for the distant sound of claws digging into wood, of a body dragging against stone, of nails scraping against glass as he beckoned you to let him in willingly. Of course, you didn’t, and of course, he didn’t need you to – your bedroom window crashing only a moment after you would’ve reached it, a pair of talon-doting hands wrapping around your windowsill before Miguel hauled himself inside, scarlet blood already dotting the collar of his white undershirt. Clearly, he’d already fed, tonight. His appetite had already been sated, which meant he’d only come to you to wash the taste out of his mouth.
The alternative would’ve been kinder. When he came to you half-starved, you could blame his violence on his hunger, his cruelness on his desperation. Whatever he did tonight would only serve his own twisted sense of entertainment.
He was grinning, too; crimson painted over his lips and dripping from his chin, coating his pointed fangs and spilling onto the fine silk of his tunic. With your back to him, your shoulder pressed into the plain wood of your headboard, you watched from your peripheral as he stepped into your bedroom, letting out a bark of a laugh and arching his back before stiffening, his smile falling in an instant with a sharp, venomous hiss. He didn’t flee or melt into a pile of ash and bone as you’d hoped, but only turned back to your window, catching the wreath of purple and white flowers posted above it on his claws. “Garlic blooms,” he muttered, crushing your wreath in his fist. The ruined flowers were allowed to drift pathetically to the floor, but you forced yourself to look away before they landed. “Trying your hand at botany?”
“Someone told me that garlic was good for keeping away for keeping away unwanted pests, but they must’ve been mistaken.” You didn’t move, didn’t turn, keeping your back straight and your hands wrung together in your lap. It was all you could do to keep your voice steady, to hide how much you wanted to buckle into yourself and beg him to leave. That’d come soon enough, when you were drained of all things good and vital and had only the strength it took to hold yourself. For now, you could play confident. “Tell me, would it be worth the time it’d take to hang a crucifix?”
You felt his weight on the plush of your mattress, your stomach turning as he grew ever-nearer. “I wouldn’t think so. You know how fond I am of holy ground.”
It was true, you did. You’d never be able to forget the night he first cornered you, the hours you spent pinned against the alter of an empty chapel as a beast you’d mistaken for a man buried his teeth in your neck and he forced his body into yours. For as long as he’d tormented you, you’d thought that night would be your final one, that he’d split you open and eat you alive before the sun ever rose, but here you sat, alive and breathing and still completely in the dark as to why he hadn’t devoured you, why he hadn’t left you in the same decrepit state as the rest of his mortal victims – a dried husk, barely a shell of a corpse left in a gutter or alleyway to be found by some poor soul the next morning. Your only guess was that he took more joy in being the ghost that haunted your every waking thought than the beast who would rip you to shreds the moment you stepped into the moonlight, and even then, it was hard to tell which fate was crueler. It was hard to tell if you were glad that he’d shown you mercy, or distraught that he'd chosen to keep you as a plaything, instead.
A bitter taste spread over your tongue. His cold breath fanned over your exposed back, and reflectively, motivated by the same instinct that propels the rabbit to writhe in the fox’s mouth, you tried to stand, to flee Miguel before he thought to bite down. You made it all of half a step before a strong arm caught you by the waist, dragging you back onto your bed and against Miguel’s broad chest. There was a throaty laugh, a flat tongue ran over the curve of your throat, and then, the fox put the rabbit out of its misery and Miguel sunk his fangs into your neck.
It hurt the same way it always hurt. The pain was sharp, hot – searing your veins as he bit into you, drawing a sharp cry from the base of your throat before you could hope to swallow it down. He held you like that for a moment, then another, your body pressed against his and his teeth burrowed in your flesh, before pulling back with a rolling growl, barely giving you time to draw in a ragged inhale before his lips latched onto his fresh puncture marks, his coarse tongue over the twin streams of blood. A thin trail of scarlet slipped past the corner of his mouth, only growing thicker as he nipped at half-healed ‘love bites’ and throbbing bruises too often abused to fade. His hand fell away from your wrist and rose to your collar, finding its way to the base of your throat and catching you in an inescapable grip, holding you steady as he drank from you. Sometimes, he let you fight it, took joy in pinning you down as you shoved and kicked and screamed, but he usually preferred a submissive meal. Tonight, he was clearly in the mood to pretend you were willing prey.
You expected him to leave after he’d drunk his fill, to pull away and slip back out of your bedroom window, but you were not that fortunate. Rather, he sunk lower, burying his teeth in the curve of your shoulder. The impact was dull, just forceful enough to bruise – meant more to mark than to maim. A love bite, in the place of a puncture wound – the former just as painful as the latter. “It’s like wine,” he muttered, the words nearly lost against your skin. You felt his hand on the collar of your nightdress, starting to drag the delicate fabric downward before he lost what little patience he still had. Before you could brace yourself, before you could think to bed him not to, your body was slammed against the wood of your headboard, his fist still wrapped around your neck, his claws still tearing at your clothes. “If I had less control, I would’ve drained you weeks ago.”  His voice in your ear, his hands on your skin. He dropped lower, to your chest, and yet, you never seemed to rid yourself of the awful feeling that he was looming over you, consuming you. “You’re lucky that your blood’s not the only part of you that tastes so—”
“Please.” It was barely a whisper. Without his uncannily keen senses, it could’ve easily been lost underneath the sounds of his lips against your skin, underneath his throaty growls and stifled moans. Still, he raised his head, his scarlet eyes flickering up to meet yours as you went on. “Please, Miguel, not tonight.”
For a moment, he did not move, did not speak. You pictured, in a part of your mind you’d lost control of the day you met him, Miguel burying his talons in your chest, carving out your beating heart and making it so you’d never be able to deny him again, but the blow never came.
A small, teasing smile spread across his crimson-stained lips as he raised his head. He kissed you, the gesture gentle and lingering, before straightening his back and releasing your throat. “Not tonight,” he said, watching as you sunk into yourself. “But soon. I can’t let my amor spend their nights alone for much longer.”
You opened your mouth, but he was already gone – vanishing into the moonlight and leaving you covered in your own blood, shaking in the tatters of your nightdress, and already dreading his next visit.
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thecapricunt1616 · 17 days
Text
Cinnamon - (c.b. one-shot)
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♡ One Shot Inspo: Cinnamon invokes lust and is considered an aphrodisiac. It can be used in love spells as well as for sex magic. Burn cinnamon to stimulate your spiritual powers and increase your psychic ability and awareness.
♡ Summary: Carmy hasn't had pussy in 2 weeks....he nearly died (he's a drama queen, but you love it) So, being the loving amazing GF you are you Mountain Dewed it up down left right (oh!!) switched it up like Nintendo - and did it so well you put his ass to sleep. (I listened to Espresso the whole time writing this its literally all I could think about hahahah)
♡ W/C: 4,140
♡ Posted Date: 05/12/2024
♡ A/N: HEYYYY!!! Okay okay so MORE STAGEFRIGHT because the amazing wonderful talented goddess level writer @l4long-winded sent in ♡THIS♡ big brain beautiful ask, and let me tell you I had some THOUGHTS!!! I have such a worship kink so .... yeah this was v fun to write. I hope you love reading as much as I loved writing. My dear please send in a request whenever you want!! Requests are open per usual :D
♡ Warnings for BTC: Kinda Sub!Carmy, Smut, Fem!Reader, AFAB!Reader, No use of Y/N, No use of physical descriptors, Black!Fem!Reader friendly (i'm pretty sure pls tell me if smth needs editing!), Kinda Virgin!Carmy, Not edited (we die like men)
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♡ 𝐌𝐲 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 ♡ ➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 ♡ ➵ 𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐞 ♡ ➵ 𝘊𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 / 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘵 ♡ ➵ 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 ♡
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It had been quite literally a fortnight since Carmy had been able to fuck you. It was all he’d thought about, well - when his brain wasn’t busy going a million miles an hour about the restaurant, which is exactly what had taken up so much of his time lately. He’d usually be grateful for this kind of work, the kind of work that he’s going in at 3:15 and not getting home until 11:30 pm or midnight when you were already fast asleep. 
He was exhausted, emotionally, physically, mentally, spiritually - but sexually?! He wasn’t sure he had ever been so wound up before. His nightly sessions of jerking his cock in the shower, biting his hand to keep as quiet as he could while he thought of the view of you when he came in that night. One leg hoisted up, nightgown ridden up over your ass. The one you knew he loved, and some of his favorite panties. 
You called them your lazy girl panties because you told him you only wore them when you weren’t expecting anyone else to see them, but that very fact meant drooled over them. The slight discoloration from being so old, the little threads hanging off the leg holes and waistband. The tiny hole right in the waistband that he loved to thumb with while cuddling in bed. 
 Two weeks. Fourteen days. Three hundred and thirty six hours. Twenty thousand, one hundred and sixty minutes. 
That had been how long he had gone without being inside of you. He didn’t know his dick could get depressed, but his dick was fucking depressed. Getting off felt like a chore. When he’d jack off, he took an extra 15 minutes yanking on the thing because he could barely cum anymore, even though his balls were aching like he needed to. 
Every time he got home, he’d stand in the doorway, just watching you. You would be peacefully asleep, chest lightly rising and falling, your beautiful body covered by some loose sleep thing. A loose sleep thing that he fantasized about ripping off into shreds. 
Tonight though - he could cry. You were up - you were fucking awake. Through his own selfish desires he didn’t even realize it was abnormal, the only thing he could think about was the blood rushing to his cock at the mere idea you could possibly potentially be in the mood. “Baby?!” He nearly tripped over his own two feet rushing to your shared bedroom. 
You were sat up on the bed, book on your thighs - a loose nightgown that accentuated your curves and hugged your peaked nipples uncovered by any bra. He could bust in his pants and all you were doing was reading. Reading what? He could care less honestly because his cock was starting to hurt. 
You sat up, putting your legs over the side of the bed to get up and greet him “Bear! How was work love? I wanted to stay up so that we could - what’re you…” you trail off confused as he slinks to his knees before you, between your thighs and lifting up your leg, putting the top of your foot to his lips. 
“In…22 minutes” he starts between kissing up your bare ankle and calf “it..will have been..15..days..” he stopped at your thighs, his cheek smushed against the flesh, he looked like he could both cry and that he was coming home. “Since I touched you. Please. Please baby - can I make you feel good? Mm?” He mumbled into your skin. “Please princess? I’m dyin’ here. I’m fuckin- I literally cut my hand t’day thinkin’ bout you. I fuckin need you” he kissed over each little tiny inch of your flesh. He was…worshiping you. 
The idea sent waves of warmth flooding your core. “Yeah baby?” You took his hand, seeing a bandage over his knuckle and kissing it gently. 
The feeling of your lips to his skin made him whimper “please- please please please” he begged, sitting back on his feet and looking up at you through his bangs, pushing his hair back quickly before his hand found your calf once again, rubbing little strokes into it “please?” He asked softly, his big blue eyes blown wide with lust. 
You gently cup his cheek “and who’s fault is it?” You were teasing now. But you knew the bastard loved a challenge, and you also had been horny and your fingers were nothing compared to Carmys. 
“Mine. It’s mine. My stupid fuckin job angel I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry, how can I make it up? What can I do pretty? Mm? I’ll do whatever you want” he begged you and kissed over your knees and calves, pressing short little pecks to the skin. You grabbed his greasy curls at the root, raking through a few of the knots gently before pulling him to look at you and he moaned gently at the sudden firmness 
“Do you know I’ve been fingering myself to fall asleep. All alone - for all those days you said. My poor hand” you held it up and he brought it to his lips on instinct, kissing the pads of your fingers before opening his mouth expectantly. “Good Bear” you purr and his eyes flutter shut as you stuck in your middle and ring fingers, slipping them over his tongue. He moaned at the contact, not holding back. 
You smiled a bit, tugging his jaw open and he looks up at you, cheeks flushed and drool beginning to drip down his chin. “You’re pretty” you said softly and he swirls his tongue around your fingers before sucking on them gently, not breaking your gaze. Your stomach flips with excitement, your panties becoming uncomfortably wet but you weren’t going to let that show. He deserved to beg. 
“Do you deserve to be sucking on my fingers though?” You pull them away suddenly and he gasps a bit a the unexpected emptiness of his mouth, a pathetic little pout appearing on his lips. 
“No” he said softly and you grab his cheeks, smushing them gently “but I can make you feel soooo good - you deserve it” he told you and you pat his cheek gently with your hand, your wet fingers leaving a glistening streak on his cheek. 
“I know I do. Are you gonna eat me out? Like a good boy?” You laid back on your elbows, spreading your thigh and resting one of your feet on the edge of the bed, showing your panties that had grown a large wet spot during your conversation. He watches every move you make, his eyes focusing on the wet spot you sighed softly, deciding to take pity on him. “You can sniff my panties, you little freak” you giggle and he looked up at you like a kid on Christmas 
He wasted no time shoving his nose right in the wetness, inhaling your sweet yummy scent and groaning “thank you” he mumbled into the curve of your ass, his hot breath against the skin causing your clit to twitch and goosebumps to appear on your skin. You feel him taking another deep breath and nuzzling his nose back and forth to get deeper like a dog and you couldn’t help but giggle, raking through the knots in his curls as he stuck out his tongue and caught the fabric of your panties with his teeth, sucking the juices out of the fabric and moaning hotly. 
His hands were everywhere, rubbing over your calves, your thighs, your stomach, pushing your nightgown over your tits and rolling a peaked nipple between his fingers. You bit your lip, head falling back slightly and grinding your hips into his face, using his nose to get yourself off. “Go ahead Bear take off your jeans, you’ve been good t’night and I know you’re probably hurting” you told him 
He sighed into you gratefully “y’too nice t’me” he kissed over your clothed pussy a few times as he unbuckled his belt with shaking hands, the anticipation was killing him. 
“No me being nice would be telling you that you could touch yourself. And no dripping on my carpet” you told him as he pushed his boxers and jeans enough to let his cock free that was indeed dripping already. His boxers were creamy and wet with pre, he had been pathetically grinding against the boxspring as he sucked your panties like it was his life source. 
“Shit-“  he said, wrapping a fist around his weeping tip as he continued tonguing and nosing at the fabric between your legs. “Can I- c-can I please?” He begged pathetically, that softness to his voice you loved so much. A sweet whiney grunt leaves his lips as you pull his hair, forcing him to look at you. 
“What have we talked about? Use your words.” You said firmly. 
“Can I- take your panties off…p-please?” He asked shyly “wanna make y’feel good - wanna taste your pussy I miss it s’much - tastes so good baby please lemme taste you” he said and his whiney husky voice mixed with his breathlessness from being shoved into the fabric of your dripping cunt made you clench around nothing. 
“I wanna cum twice before you even think about touching yourself. Also take your shirt off you’re way overdressed for my taste.” You dropped his hair and he nods obediently, standing and shoving off his jeans and tugging his shirt off by the neck in that stupid jockish way that had you wanting to shove him down back first on the mattress and ride him until his balls were empty. 
Instead you kept your cool, crossing your arms over and slipping your nightgown over your head before taking off your panties, flicking them at him playfully to which he balled them up and pressed them to his nose, inhaling deeply. This caused you to laugh as you adjusted your pillow to lay back, spreading your thighs and gathering some of your wetness from your hole, dragging it up to your clit and rubbing little circles into it. 
“Mmm are you gonna keep sniffing those like a pervy-puppy or are you gonna come make good on your promise. I’m surprised this poor hand hasn’t fallen off” you teased and he dropped the panties where he was standing, coming and crawling on the bed, laying in front of you and hoisting your thighs over each of his shoulders 
“Mmm” he hummed, his eyes fluttering shut and leaning in, resting his cheek on your thigh and inhaling. “Smell so fuckin’ good” he mumbled “mouth is literally watering” he kissed your inner thighs sweetly, ravishing the skin in gentle affection. “God I missed this fuckin missed this s’much. Every morning this pretty fuckin pussy is just beggin me” he kissed your mound gently, dipping his tongue out and moaning at the taste of sweat and lotion on your skin, lapping it up like a life source. 
“Yeah? I think you’re the beggar” you mused, jaw falling slack as he licks a stripe up your heat, moaning pathetically at your taste. His eyes rolled back slightly before fluttering shut in pure bliss “mmm so pretty baby” you coo and he smiled slightly, his cheeks a blushy pink that matched the tops of his ears. He nuzzled into you, nose rubbing over your clit in the way that made you gasp, your toes curling lightly “good boy” you praised, voice breathy and light 
“Taste so good” he mumbled into your cunt, squeezing your thighs gently with his tattooed fingers. He moaned into you, watching you with wide lustful eyes. 
“Those pretty eyes” you said softly, gently brushing his warm cheekbone with your knuckle and he hums into you gently. He sucked your folds between his lips, pulling away slightly and rubbing your thighs up and down with his calloused palms, squeezing gently. You moaned hotly and couldn’t contain the cry that followed when he finally stuck his middle finger in your dripping hole, hips bucking to try and get more of him. 
“So soft, so so soft” he mumbled into your clit before kissing it gently and taking the now swollen throbbing bud in his mouth, flicking his tongue over it quickly. His fingers twist and curl as he pumps them in and out at a languid pace. You felt that familiar jolt of pleasure as the pad of his finger brushed your g spot. 
“Augh- ah- yes bear” you mewled, “right there- there” you grab his wrist and squeeze it and in response he curled his fingers the same way and you dug your feet into his shoulder blades in pure extacy, causing him to grunt into you and curl and uncurl his fingers in a rhythm that had your eyes screwing shut and loud strings of curses and moans tearing from your chest as you came undone over his fingers, dripping down his wrist already. But with how long it had been since you had him this way, that was to be expected. 
“Good - good bear good bear” you mumble praise as your orgasm washes over you he works you through it, resuming pumping his fingers - your dripping arousal being able to be put to use as lube. The schlick,schlick,schlick sound of his fingers is what you come back to, your mind fuzzy and swimming through a warm sea of pleasure, sweet jumbled moans and whimpers coming from your lips. 
“God you sound so fuckin’ pretty baby I love you so fuckin much m’so sorry m’so sorry I haven’t been around as much” he mumbled into you and you shake your head 
“S’okay shhh- shh just keep doin’ what you’re doin’” you push his head back down, watching as his eyes flutter up to look at you and he sweetly offers his other hand for you to hold, your heart melting at the gesture. “Such a sweet boy” you coo, taking his hand and lacing your fingers together. He smiled a bit in response nuzzling his nose against your clit, his lips making cute little smacking noises against your cunt. 
“You’re so messy” you giggle a bit, seeing as the tip and bridge of his nose were wet with your slick, as was his chin and entire mouth area. “Your face is so wet baby” you told him and he looked up at you 
“Mmm m’neck is wet too” he paused to say before resuming and you gently caress his cheek, the only sounds filling the room being the wet drill of his fingers and the smacking of his lips, like he was trying to devour a popsicle before it melted. 
You felt your second orgasm quickly approaching, your walls fluttering around his fingers, he curled up into that spot and that was your undoing once more, your hips pushing back into the mattress and spine arching off the bed towards the ceiling slightly as your orgasm crashed over you with no mercy to be had. 
“Jesus- fuck!” You cried out and he held your thighs open for you so you wouldn’t crush him by mistake, your hands shaking as you went to wipe the tears that had gathered in your eyes that were screwed shut from the intensity and Carmy stops you, carefully wiping your cheeks with his dry hand and removing his other carefully, wiping it dry on the sheets he always changed for you afterwards and cupping your face while you came down. 
“You did so good baby, so so good” he kissed your forehead gently, rubbing your hair and caressing your back with loving strokes. When you were finally coherent enough once again, although you were exhausted - you realized Carmy was still rock hard, pitching a full tent in his boxers that were wet with pre as he coaxed you through your orgasm. 
“That’s gotta hurt” you told pull the fabric, causing his cock to come down with it and when you release it it springs back up to full standing causing you to giggle a bit 
“Mm does but m’back. I can’t go t’night babe. I was gonna go take care of it in the shower don’worry” he yawned, rubbing over his face you furrowed your brow, slightly offended. 
“What? Is my pussy not good enough?” You teased 
He looked at you quickly “wha- no - I mean- I mean yes? No- no your pussy is good your pussy is- is perfect I fuckin’ love y’pussy but I can’t go tonight baby my back fuckin’ hurts” he explained 
“I can ride you you know” you said and his big blue eyes widened a bit. You’d been together for 6- no 7 months, and it was true you’d never ridden him, not yet anyway. 
Carmen was a missionary man, not in the boring way, in the way that he’d get home from work and fuck your brains out while going on and on about his frustrations from the day. 
People wouldn’t usually call it dirty talk, but something it turned you on more then anything that between calling you perfect and beautiful and made for him that he was just casually going on about his shitty day like his balls weren’t essentially spanking your ass with how hard he needed it. 
“Uh- oh-o-okay. Yeah. Sure- I. Mmhmm” he said and fixed his pillow, adjusting his hips for you “hop on I guess” he said shyly and you laughed at his sudden switch in attitude. 
“Have you never been ridden you poor thing?” You asked and his cheeks went cherry red as well as the tips of his ears and bridge of his nose as you straddled him easily, resting your hands on his abs for leverage. 
“No.” He muttered. “I- I just…I dunno it never..came up” he swallowed thickly, averting your gaze nervously. 
“Hey.” You said “eyes” you told him and his eyes met yours immediately, “I’m honored to be the first person, yeah? I’ve told you a billion times bear - I love you. I love being able to show you new ways to feel good, it makes me so excited” you held his hips gently and he wrapped his hands around your wrists, needing to be touching you somehow. 
“It just…it doesn’t make me seem like…like a bitch does it?” He mumbled shyly, insecurity lacing his voice. You tucked your hands under his warm back, laying yourself over him fully, embracing him and resting your forehead on his. 
“You know how I feel about that word, and no it doesn’t make you seem less manly baby. If anything, it’s super sexy and it’s so sweet that you felt brave enough to tell me. Thank you for telling me. I’ve heard for the guy it feels really good cause all you gotta do is lay there, you wanna try sweetheart?” You ask softly, kissing the bridge of his nose gently and a small smile forming on your lips when you tasted yourself on your lips upon pulling away. 
“Yes please” he said softly, eyes fluttered shut as you cover his face in little butterfly kisses. 
“That’s my brave bear” you place a kiss to the base of his throat and he smiles a bit, cheeks going redder by the second. It was adorable how shy he got when you showed him affection like this, you knew he adored it more then anything - but he’d never be brave enough to ask for it - at least not yet.  
You sit up, “can I touch you baby?” You confirm, rubbing your hands down his stomach and his abs tighten at the contact. In response he nods, swallowing thickly and goosebumps rising over his skin. His cock twitches as you grab the waistband of his boxers “so sweet and responsive” you said softly, tugging them down easily as he lifted his hips for you slightly. 
“Jesus” you mutter at the sight of it, the tip weeping and pink crying to be touched. “Poor thing, you’ve been neglected- has Carmy been abusing you in the shower huh?” You said in the direction of his cock with a playful voice of concern. 
“Jesus fuckin Christ-“ he chuckled, covering his face with his arm a big goofy smile on his face. “You are gonna kill me” 
You smiled big, leaning down and licking a stripe up his length and he whimpers softly, abs and stomach clenching at the contact, a large bead of pre gushing from his slit that you catch with your tongue. He shivers adorably, groaning at the feeling of you licking over his sensitive tip. “If y’keep fuckin doin’ that ‘m gonna cum” he breathes, the vein in his neck present seeing as he was holding himself back, his balls drawing up and releasing in a rhythm. 
“Jesus baby i dunno if you’ll last that long we’ll have to do this again so you can get the full experience mm?” You grab his shaft, lining you two up and slipping it through your soaked folds, he let out a breathy moan, back arching slightly and you let out a sweet ‘mmm’ when his tip bumps your clit. 
“Please please please can I be inside you please” he begged pathetically, voice whiny and shaking - he was going to be coming undone very soon you could tell, which is why he was desperate to be inside of you before he was too soft to do so. 
“I dunno can I see those pretty eyes?” You asked, he was still hiding behind his arm, likely still feeling embarrassed this was his first time but you weren’t going to allow that. He shyly removed his arm, looking up at you and swallowing nervously. 
“H-hey” he said softly and you smile softly 
“There’s my bear” you leaned in, kissing him lovingly as you sink down on him fully, his jaw goes slack so you settle for kissing his chin and cheeks and nose “Feel good?” You giggle into his skin and he lets out a pathetic little ‘uh-huh’ 
“H-holy oh god” he groaned when you simply roll your hips, getting yourself off with the friction of the curly patch of brunette curls at the base of his cock. You sat up, using his chest as leverage to find a good rhythm bouncing on him and he nearly growls, a sound you’d never heard him make. 
“Ooo am I releasing the bear?” You teased and he chuckled a bit 
“Shut up- fuck Jesus oh god” his head falls back on the pillow “i-i-shit” he rambled and you giggle a bit, causing him to whine at the feeling of your walls clenching around him as you continued to ride his cock with all the tricks you could remember. 
“I don’t think I’ve ever fucked you so quiet before” you tease, sure your hips and thighs were burning from how quick you’d built up to moving, but his eyes were practically rolling back and the whimpers you were drawing out of him were nothing short of heavenly. He was shaking for Christ sakes. “Are you gonna cum? Mm? Y’gonna fill me up baby?” You asked him, rubbing his chest gently 
He finally opened his eyes, looking up at you with those big blue eyes, blown out fully with lust, pants falling from his lips and his dirty blonde curls stuck to his forehead with sweat. “Mm-mmhmm” he moaned out, grabbing your hips to have something to hold and the action making him realize he could help you move. His jaw dropped slightly at the realization and he looked up at you for approval. 
You smiled and nod a bit “you can help honey- that’s really nice of you” you said and he helped push and pull you off his cock, he looked down, mesmerized by the view of his cock burying inside of you, he pushed you down with more force and you moaned, “just like that baby, you want it harder huh?” You ask and he nods quickly so you rolled your hips a bit harder. 
He bit his lip, nose scrunching up cutely. He was holding back. “Bear- I know it feels good but you can cum, you need to sleep” you cup his cheek gently and he looked up at you like a sad puppy 
“It feels s’good baby” he whined and you nod, stroking his cheek gently. 
“I know honey. We can do it again t’morrow night yeah?” You kiss his forehead and with that he releases into you with something resembling a cry covered with a grunt, of course he had to cover it. He pulled you into a deep messy kiss, wrapping his arms around your back, rubbing gently and reaching down to squeeze your ass, feeling cum dripping out of you down over his balls. He smiled a bit, pulling away to ask “Mmm can we sleep like this?”
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chowadoe · 1 month
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so more on that role reversal au...
Shadow (created as a Weapon Against Humanity) who was eventually raised, and exploited, by G.U.N to become Humanity's Ultimate weapon and Sonic, found by Robotnik
some more expanded thoughts below ^_^
SHADOW - G.U.N AGENT
Shadow was initially created with the intention of being a Weapon Against Humanity. after a life-altering incident, G.U.N. takes Shadow into their custody, raising him to become one of their top agents, exploiting him.
he's constantly under government surveillance... inhibitor rings (developed by G.U.N.) are clamped onto him like a shock collar so he is unable to tap into his full power. (Shadow has neither tested nor does he know the extent of his strength.. he has never tried removing them. G.U.N. is the only one who can remove them.)
the hypocritical method in wanting their weapon (cough trained dog) to exercise and develop restraint on his own terms, and yet forcefully acclimating him.
Shadow’s aware of his past. Definitely struggles with Existential dread about why he’s on Earth and what he was made for. he wants to (and feels like he should) do good, but if he was initially made with destructive intent… is he compensating this way? is this what he really wants? no.. he shouldn't think like that.. Maria would want him to be good..
If not to make the world the better a place, if they still treat his kind as inferior and sometimes, even a threat to the whole human race, does humanity and this planet still deserve its rite for redemption? What is humanity? Is that something he’s capable of, as a weapon of mass destruction?
what is he trying to prove here? His docility? His ability to be obedient and be, by human standards, good? what does that mean in a world that may never accept them, and much less him- a synthetic and all-unnatural organism forged from humanity’s worst and an alien race only capable of Evil and wrongdoing. a being so perfectly suited for any and all forms of persecution. Humankind’s scapegoat. He thinks about Maria.
Maria remains a guiding light. Back then, she would sneak Shadow out to gaze upon the Earth, her former home. She misses it, the lush greenery, the sun, the people. she hopes that Shadow will get to experience what it’s like.
au shadow is emo edgy in a sad wet adult 40yo cat leon kennedy kind of way. au sonic is emo edgy like a 14yo that found out you could buy a tattoo gun on amazon without a license. I know nothing about resident evil
when he's not on a mission, he's usually in his "room" (extremely generous word for containment chamber/training facility.) he's like a hamster in a cage with toys to play with . (treadmills. race tracks. dummy robots. Ak-47s.) He's allowed to freely roam HQ from hours 6am-10pm, and if not, he is usually escorted by a guard, unless its Rouge sneaking him out. But beyond that, it's not like the ultimate lifeform needs that much sleep, and it'd be bad to have their ultimate weapon roaming the halls without supervision. but let's say there's the occasional nocturnal scavenger providing him a bit of nightly mischief that even the most complicated most difficult to navigate ventilation system cannot keep a natural-born burrower out..... (haha)
SONIC - ACCOMPLICE
Robotnik’s “accomplice” (adoptive son?)
Sonic goes along with Robotnik’s schemes but has his own ulterior motives .. after all, working under someone is still infringing on his sense of freedom, independence, and pride.
He only rlly helps out Robotnik out if it helps him… robotnik makes some new tech that tickles his , esp if smth that happens to enhance his existing abilities. sure he’s more than capable of doing things on his own but what’s better than to play with his new toys with his already existing toys (GUN. shadow.)
and if he manages to break them in a day then he’s found an issue that robotnik needs to troubleshoot immediately. eggman should really be Thanking him!
his only known goal atm is to find things that stave off his boredom. from what Shadow's gathered at least. but maybe there's more...
has a very bad No Good Fixation on shadow's inhibitor rings for whatever reason. wonder that could mean.
Still fucking around with roles and nothing's rlly set in stone. Im just kind of giggling kicking rocks and throwing pebbles in the water to see what lands ^q^
Rouge is still there! A contractor for G.U.N. A Recovering/reformed Jewel thief who joins the task force (maybe?) 
the gang is also there! still brainstorming roles though. emrmmm
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Greg had always been a night owl. For years, his nightly routine consisted of scrolling through fitness blogs and watching workout videos, dreaming of a day when he might have the body of a Greek god. At fifty-five, he was overweight, self-conscious, and hesitant to be seen at the gym during peak hours. It was this insecurity that led him to arrange private, after-hours training sessions with Nick, a young, muscular personal trainer renowned for his ability to transform even the most hopeless cases.
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Nick was the epitome of physical perfection: six-foot-two, with chiseled abs, broad shoulders, and biceps that strained against the fabric of his workout shirts. He was the kind of guy who turned heads wherever he went. But Nick was also kind, patient, and professional, which is why Greg chose him.
For the past month, Greg had been meeting Nick at the gym every night at 11 PM.
Despite their efforts, Greg saw little progress. His frustration grew each time he looked in the mirror, each time he saw his belly protruding, his arms flabby. Nick encouraged him, reminding him that real change takes time. But Greg was tired of waiting.
One night, after another grueling session that left him drenched in sweat but still feeling hopeless, Greg's desperation reached its peak. He had stumbled upon an obscure online forum that mentioned a mysterious cream capable of switching bodies. It sounded like nonsense, but Greg was desperate enough to try anything.
On the fateful night, Greg slipped the cream into his bag. He approached Nick, his heart pounding with a mixture of guilt and determination. As they wrapped up the session, Greg feigned a sudden cramp and asked Nick to help him stretch.
Nick, ever the professional, complied without question. Greg seized the moment. With a swift motion, he pulled out a small device from his bag—a stun gun he had bought online. Before Nick could react, Greg pressed it against Nick's side. The trainer's body convulsed before he collapsed, unconscious.
Greg's hands trembled as he stripped Nick of his clothes, revealing the sculpted body he had long envied. He marveled at the smooth, hard muscles, feeling the texture of Nick's skin, taut over solid muscle. His fingers traced the defined lines of Nick's abs, the powerful curves of his biceps, the strength in his thighs.
With Nick unconscious, Greg opened the jar of cream, its strange, pungent scent filling the air. He began to smear it over Nick's body, making sure to cover every single inch. He started with Nick's broad chest, rubbing the cream into the firm pectoral muscles, down to the rippling abs. He coated Nick's strong arms, his biceps and triceps glistening under the layer of cream.
Greg's hands moved lower, applying the cream to Nick's powerful thighs and calves.
He hesitated for a moment, then spread Nick's legs apart, ensuring that he rubbed the cream thoroughly into his buttocks. He marveled at the firmness, feeling a surge of both envy and excitement. Finally, with a deep breath, Greg reached for Nick's dick, carefully and methodically rubbing the cream onto every part of his genitals, ensuring not a single inch was left uncovered.
Satisfied, Greg stripped himself, feeling a mix of revulsion and hope as he applied the cream to his own flesh, mirroring the thoroughness with which he had treated Nick's body. He rubbed it over his own sagging chest, his flabby arms, his protruding belly, and finally his legs and genitals.
As he finished, a strange tingling sensation spread through his body. His vision blurred, and he felt a dizzying rush, as though he were being pulled apart and reassembled. When the sensation finally passed, Greg looked down and gasped.
His body was no longer his own. He flexed his new muscles, feeling the power in his limbs, the strength in his core. He was Nick.
Nick, now in Greg's old body, began to stir. Panic and confusion twisted his features as he looked up at Greg. "What did you do?" he cried, his voice weak and unfamiliar.
Greg, now towering over his former self, smirked. "I'm sorry, Nick. But l've waited too long to feel like this. To be admired. To be powerful."
Nick tried to stand, but the weight of Greg's old body overwhelmed him. "Switch us back," he pleaded, his voice breaking.
Greg shook his head, his smile cruel. "Not a chance. I plan to enjoy this new life. Your life."
Greg turned his attention to Nick's discarded clothes. He picked up Nick's sweaty tank top first, holding it up to his face and inhaling deeply. The scent of Nick's exertion was intoxicating. With a sense of reverence, he slipped the tank top over his head. It fit perfectly, hugging his new, muscular frame in all the right places. He admired how it clung to his new pectorals and biceps, a testament to his newfound physical perfection.
Next, he grabbed Nick's jockstrap. The fabric was still warm and damp from Nick's sweat. Greg shivered with delight as he stepped into it, adjusting the straps around his muscular thighs and feeling the snug support it provided. He relished the sensation of the tight material against his skin, a stark contrast to the loose underwear he was used to. He then took a moment to adjust his new, large manhood within the confines of the jockstrap. The feeling was exhilarating. It was a tight fit, but it felt incredible-just as Nick always must have felt.
Greg then reached for Nick's socks. They were soaked with sweat, but he didn't care. He pulled them on, one by one, feeling the damp fabric mold to his feet. The sensation of Nick's sweat-soaked socks against his new, powerful calves sent a thrill through him.
He continued with Nick's shorts, sliding them up his legs and fastening them around his waist. The shorts fit like a glove, accentuating his muscular thighs and providing just the right amount of freedom and support.
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Finally, he picked up Nick's shoes. They were well-worn, molded to the shape of Nick's feet. Greg slipped them on, lacing them up tightly. As he stood up, he felt a surge of invincibility, the shoes giving him a sense of grounding and power.
"You can't do this," Nick pleaded again, desperation in his eyes. But Greg ignored him, too engrossed in the transformation and the feel of Nick's clothes on his new body.
With that, Greg opened the gym door and unceremoniously shoved Nick outside, locking the door behind him. As he turned to leave, he heard Nick pounding on the door. Suddenly, the pounding stopped, replaced by a gasping, choking sound. Greg turned around and saw Nick-his former self-clutching his chest, his face contorted in pain.
Nick's now old heart was failing under the stress of the transformation and the shock of his new reality. He collapsed to the ground, writhing in agony, trying to draw breath.
As Greg walked away, leaving his old body-now Nick's-struggling on the ground, he felt a surge of excitement. He was no longer the fat old man, he now was Nick, the Adonis.
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najia-cooks · 7 months
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[ID: One puffy circle of bread, and three which have been halved to show an internal pocket, on a striped blue and white kitchen towel. End ID]
خبز الكماج / Khubiz al-kmaj (Palestinian flatbread)
Khubiz al-kmaj is a thin flatbread with an internal pocket. It is commonly eaten with breakfast to scoop up dips such as hummus, used to eat stews, served alongside main dishes, and used to make sandwiches and to wrap falafel. "خُبْز," pronounced "khubz" or (in Levantine varieties of Arabic) "khubiz," comes from the root خ ب ز (kh-b-z), which also produces the word "خَبَزَ" "khabaza" (Levantine: "خَبَز" "khabaz"), "to bake."‎
This bread is eaten across the Levant and in Greece, with slight differences in terminology and style. It is variously called "خُبْز العَرَبِيّ" (khubz al-'arabiyy; Arabian bread), "خُبْز "البَلَدِيّ (khubz al-baladiyy; bread from my country), or (occasionally) "خُبْز البيتة" or "البيتا" (khubz al-bita), a borrowing from "pita." ("Pita" itself is perhaps from Greek "πίτα" "pita," or the modern Hebrew "פיתה.") The bread is referred to as "khubiz al-kmaj" in Palestine, from the Turkic "kömeç" / كُمَجْ‎ ("bread baked in ashes"). The collective term for the bread in general is كماج (kmāj); each individual piece of bread is referred to with the singulative "كماجة‎" (kmāja).
Today, kmaj is frequently made with white flour; some people add olive oil or milk powder to ensure a very soft dough. Leila el-Haddad writes that a more traditional method omits milk and uses whole white spring wheat, a whiteish wheat grain harvested in late spring and ground without removing the bran.
Since the late 20th century, many Palestinian households have used an electric cooker (طنجرة الكهرباء; ṭanjara al-kahrabā') to cook kmaj, placing one kmaja inside of the chamber and one on top and allowing both to bake at the same time. These aluminum and tin cookers, which were invented in Gaza and became popular there during the first intifada in the late 1980s, are designed to route electricity through a metal pipe or spiral wire on the underside of their lids, heating both the top and the inside of the cooker simultaneously.
The cookers' popularity can be attributed in part to a curfew that Israel imposed on Gazan refugee camps during the intifada, supposedly in an attempt to restrict the movements of resistance fighters. Refugees in the Jabalia camp in the north, for example, unable to afford home stoves, and without the necessary outdoor space to make familial clay ovens, would have to wait in line for hours every day to get bread from shared ovens, risking curfew violations; household electric cookers were far more convenient. The success of local industry and innovation in the form of Gazan-manufactured technology was also symbolically and strategically important during the first intifada, in which Palestinians employed strikes and boycotts (largely organized by women) of Israeli companies and goods as a strategy of resistance to occupation.
An electric cooker is still today considered a very important tool, as it spares families the need to purchase kmaj (the price of which was soaring compared to the cost of flour in the 2010s, and which was often of inferior quality compared to what could be made at home). They are frequently given as wedding or housewarming presents. Lack of access to electricity, though, imposes a limiting condition on the usage of these cookers, as Israel has for over a decade strangled the flow of power to Gaza: Abier Almasri wrote in 2017 that tasks such as cooking and laundry had to be rushed during the four or so hours a day when electricity was available. In this environment, electric cookers are useful in that they can prepare a lot of bread in a short period of time. Fathia Radwan said in 2022 that she would wake up early, after the nightly power outage, to prepare more than 100 loaves of bread at a time for her family of nine.
Today, the taxes that Israel levies on imports of raw materials into Gaza makes the cost of new electric cookers, which sometimes exceeds 120 shekels (37 USD), too expensive for some families to afford. The difficulty and expense of importing materials, and the impossibility of exporting goods to foreign markets with the advent of the 2007 siege, also limit the number of factories in Gaza that are able to manufacture these cooking pots. The aluminum industry, introduced to Gaza in the 1960s and once the basis of a manufacturing and economic renaissance in the region, deteriorated as a result of the siege, as factories were no longer able to export goods to the West Bank and were newly reliant on imports of raw materials from Egypt. Even parts to repair electric cookers are expensive, due to a tax levied on items judged by Israel to have a "dual," i.e. a possible civilian and military, use.
Still, repairman Iyad Faraj estimates that over half the homes in Gaza have and use an electric cooker, as maintaining, repairing, and operating one is cheaper than having a gas pipe installed (at 68 shekels, 20 USD) and purchasing gas. Electric pots thus stand in many homes as both a utilitarian item, and a symbol of Palestinian ingenuity and resistance to Israel's attempts at impoverishment and starvation.
Support Palestinian resistance by contributing to Palestine Action’s bail fund or to Palestine Legal’s defence fund, by attending court or making a sign to support the Elbit Eight, or by buying an e-sim for distribution in Gaza.
Ingredients:
500g (4 cups + 3 Tbsp) white whole wheat (spring) flour
1/2 Tbsp (5g) active dry yeast
1/2 Tbsp (6.25g) vegetarian granulated sugar
1/2 Tbsp (7.25g) kosher salt
About 2 1/4 cups (530mL) room-temperature water, divided
Olive oil
White whole wheat flour is flour that has a white color once ground, despite the fact that it includes both the bran and the germ of the wheatberry. It is milled from white spring wheat (so named because it is harvested in late spring).
You may instead mix white all-purpose flour and brown whole wheat flour in your desired proportion. Keep in mind that whole wheat flour will need more water and more kneading than white flour. If you’re using all white flour, you will need about 1 1/4 cup (300mL) water.
Instructions:
1. Mix flour, yeast, sugar, and salt in a large mixing bowl. Add water gradually until dry ingredients come together into a sticky dough.
2. Knead the dough on the countertop or in a wide, shallow bowl until smooth, about 5 minutes. (If using whole wheat or white whole wheat flour) continue incorporating water into the dough as you knead to maintain a tacky texture.
3. Fold the dough into a ball and return to the bowl, seam-side down. Pat the top of the dough with some olive oil, cover the bowl, and let rise for an hour.
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4. Pinch the dough into about 8 balls of equal size (about 110g each). Cover and let rest for 10 minutes.
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5. On a lightly floured surface, roll out each ball of dough into a circle about 1/4" (1/2cm) in thickness. Set dough circles on a surface prepared with parchment paper and cover closely with a kitchen towel or plastic wrap. Let rest and ferment for at least 1 and up to 10 hours.
An overnight rest is traditional in Palestine and will create a more complex flavor in the bread (see note below).
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6. Remove each circle of dough from its resting place with a metal spatula and roll it out to a 1/4” thickness again. Preheat a baking stone or sheet in the top third of an oven at 500 °F (260 °C), and then cook breads in the oven for three minutes, until large bubbles have begun to form.
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7. Flip bread over and cook for another 3 minutes on the other side, until golden brown and puffed up completely.
8. Wrap breads in a kitchen towel or tea towel and allow to steam for a few minutes while the others cook.
Notes
The climate where I live is dry enough that I have discovered a risk of my breads becoming crackers if I leave them out overnight. The dried-out flatbread does puff up in the oven, but the resulting product is not as nice and fluffy as it should be.
Through experimentation, I have found the best method of both preventing drying out and guaranteeing that the flatbreads will puff up during cooking the next day is:
1. Roll out the dough and place dough circles on a lightly oiled surface. Cover them closely with lightly oiled plastic wrap.
2. The next day, fold dough circles back into balls. Place seam-side down and roll out again on a lightly floured surface.
3. Bake as described above.
If you live in a humid environment, the first instructions given in the recipe above should work for you.
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