#& it’s either gonna be good or it’s not

[rafesweetie]

in which you’re forced into having a talk with your ex-boyfriend, rafe cameron, on the boat ride to morocco.

being a pogue and rafe cameron’s ex was not easy. although you dated shortly before he killed peterkin, and you were sure he barely even remembered your favourite colour, seeing him blatanly disrespect you and his friends, and go down a path you tried so hard to prevent him from, was hard to watch. but now he’s picked himself up since ward died. you thought you had another chance to at least be on good terms. sending flowers and a card to tanneyhill when ward died, smiling at him when you’d see him around. it didn’t work, he still hated you and your friends.

fortunately, he redeemed himself ever so slightly by volunteering to take the pogues to morocco. rafe had to find chandler groff, you guys wanted the blue crown. it was perfect.

until jj punched him, that is. he knocked him out cold. with a scolding “jj!” coming from majority of the pogues, including you, jj carries him down into the downstairs washroom and ties his wrists to a pole. they don’t trust him, which is fair. you don’t either — you shouldn’t, anyway.

rafe was down there quietly for a mere half hour until he woke up with a groan from his head hitting the ground earlier, followed up with yelling once he realizes he was stuck down there.

all touching your noses and saying ‘not it’ the minute pope suggests someone going down there to check on him, you’re the unlucky one who said it last. shutting up your protests, john b gently coaxes you downstairs, saying things like, “you used to mack on him”, “this is good, you know him”, “he won’t hurt you,” john b leaves you downstairs once you make it to the door of the bathroom. knocking gently, you timidly ask, “can i come in?”

there’s no answer. you can picture him. wrists tied, brows furrowed, eyes closed tightly as his head leans against the wall and towards the ceiling. his gorgeous stressed face. you slowly open the door, peeking your head in. “hi,” you say gently, timid around the scary and aggressive man you have the curse of calling your ex.

“…hey,” rafe says, voice rough as he shuts his eyes tight.

unsure what to say, you awkwardly stand there and stare down at him. “um, i brought asprin,”

“right, right, like i can fuckin’ swallow it. what, you gonna throw it in my mouth like a.. seal or something?” sassy, his upper lip lifts a bit as he thinks about it and isn’t very fond of the idea.

a second of silence as you figure out what to say. “…um, ill just set it down here,” you say, putting the container down beside him. “sorry about your head.”

“yeah, uh, your little boyfriend can’t control his fists, huh?”

“…not my boyfriend,” you correct softly, though you’re not sure why you feel the need to tell him that. “but no one really.. trusts you, rafe, so you kind of brought this on yourself—“

he quickly interrupts you. “bullshit. you know why that’s bullshit? because i was helping. who got you this boat, huh? me. i did. rafe. i’m the reason that you guys aren’t swimming, or some shit, to north africa. i’m being helpful and understanding, and this is what i get. you think that’s fair?” when you’re stood there in silence at his sudden raised voice, he repeats, “you think that’s fucking fair, y/n!?” he kicks a can in anger.

it’s like you’re his girlfriend again as you sit down next to him instantly instead of running. you get deja vu to the time three years ago when he was high on coke and got kicked out of the house. everyone ignored him except for you. “..um, okay, i’m gonna give you some asprin,” you say softly. “help your head. open,” you tell him, grabbing a pill as he gives you a look but opens his mouth. you pop it in his mouth and he dry swallows. “there.”

you two share a look. you don’t think it’s a bad look by any means. he looks frustrated still, but there’s an underlying gentleness in his eyes, as if he registers you’re still the same girl you were when you two were together. “…and, um, for the record, i don’t think it’s fair that you’re down here. you helped us, thats.. nice.”

the word ‘us’ when referring to you and the pogues makes him feel weird. “i don’t get why you hang out with them,” he mutters as he looks at the ground. “tried so fucking hard to keep you away from them when we were.. together.”

“i know,” you whisper, your gaze dropping as well, to his tied wrists. you feel awful. “trust me, your warnings still play in my head when i’m with them sometimes,”

“you remind me of sarah.” he says. you’re not sure what that means.

“you hate sarah,”

“nah, nah— i don’t hate her. hate who she’s turned into,” he adjusts himself. “she makes me sad. i’m sad for her, alright? she had so much potential.“ he shrugs. “but there’s no saving her. she’s in too deep,” he looks back up at you again. “i think there’s saving you, though,”

“…this is weird, rafe,”

“how?” he asks.

“because in the years we’ve been broken up, you’ve never talked to me about this. feels like it’s a… trick or something,”

“it’s not a trick,” he assures, voice still rough. “look, i’m out half a mill, i’m tied up in a bathroom, i’m probably gonna.. die or something. i got nothing to lose, may as well tell you my concern,”

“um, i appreciate it,” you say gently, unsure how to respond. “and i’m gonna go back upstairs.”

“hey— no, woah, woah, woah,” he stops you quickly. “stay. okay?”

“i should go up and help with dinner, though—“

“no, stay. i— i want you to stay, okay? i don’t wanna be down here alone, and i want you away from the pogues,”

he doesn’t wanna be alone. you feel bad for him all over again, nodding gently as you sit back down beside him. you always were so good for rafe.

you’re not sure how long you’ll be down here with him. maybe until it’s late at night and he’s asleep. so gently, after about five minutes of silence, to ease some of the tension and pass the time, you murmur a, “truth or dare?”

rafe just smiles.

[talaok]

Give up

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

Summary: Once again you've found an excuse to invite your neighbor over, except for once you might be able to make him look past your age difference and have a little fun.

Warnings: big ass unspecified age gap, Jackson!Joel is a softie and he's nervous and he's not so very sure about this bc of how old he is + he's out of practice. smut| oral (m and f receiving) and swallowing you know what. sub!Joel vibez all around

This wasn't anything new.

The fact that he was coming over wasn't at all surprising to either of you.

You always found a way to be around him, and no matter how he ignored your every attempt at flirting- he never said no.

It had taken all of two minutes.

You'd knocked on his door, your best little skirt and tight little top on, and faked a pout as you told him:

"There's something wrong with the shower again Mr. Miller"

To his defense, Joel really tried not to stare at your ass as you walked right in front of him to guide him to your house, but that fucking skirt seemed more of a joke than anything.

You both knew there was nothing wrong with your shower, the switch that granted the hot water had just mysteriously turned itself off once again.

This had been going on for months now, since he first arrived in Jackson... since you knocked at his door that one chilly morning to introduce yourself to your new neighbor-

All it took was one look, and you were hooked.

He was gonna be yours.

"there- 's hot" he nodded, shutting the water off once he'd made sure it worked properly again, before drying his hands on his pants.

"thank you so much Joel" you smiled wider than necessary "What can I do to thank you?"

And no, you didn't even try to make your words not sound dirty, quite the opposite actually.

He cleared his throat, his eyes breaking from yours in a nervous shift.

You always did that- had this annoying effect on him.

"'s nothing darlin'" he shook his head, "didn't even take five minutes"

"Still- I feel like I owe you," you said, biting down a smirk

Shitshitshit

"How 'bout some cake?" you suggested just as he was about to have a stroke.

"sounds good"

__ __ __

"'s real good darlin'"

"thank you" you smiled happily, watching him clear his plate in under a minute

Yeah... you were a great baker, what can I say

"you want another slice?"

"You spoil me sugar," he laughed, patting his belly "I can't"

"alright" You couldn't help but softly laugh as you placed his plate in the sink.

You caught him looking away just as you turned around, which made you smile to yourself, a smile that only widened when you noticed the chocolate on the corner of his mouth.

"Oh Joel"

"Mh?"

You sat beside him at the table, your legs brushing against one another as you leaned closer.

"You've got something... right here"

You swiped the chocolate off with your pointer finger, making a show of popping it into your mouth to clean it.

His eyes remained transfixed on you as your tongue licked your digit clean until you were finally done with a loud pop.

"Jesus"

"What?" you smirked, knowing exactly what  "that gave you some ideas?"

"babygirl-" he stopped you immediately, shaking his head

"Oh c'mon Joel" you pouted, your hand going to rest on his forearm "What's a girl gotta do to get you to give up?"

He blinked, looking at you intently and nervously altogether.

"Why do ya even care about an old man like me sweetie?"

You couldn't help but laugh "Have you ever looked in a mirror, Joel?"

You swore you saw pink flood his cheeks- the man was blushing.

"Plus you're kind... and funny when you want to.... and you make me feel-" you bit your lip, trying to find the right word "safe... you make me feel safe"

He scratched his beard, but you couldn't help but notice he hadn't used the arm your hand was still on.

"'m sure there's boys here that are funnier and kinder and make you feel even safer babygirl" he spoke gently "Pretty sure most of them are prayin' you give 'em a chance actually"

You hummed, raising a brow

"but what if I don't want them?"

"You want an old man instead?" he huffed out a self-deprecating laugh.

You rolled your eyes "How old even are you?"

"old enough to be your father darlin'"

God, maybe there was something wrong with you, but those words only made your need for him burn harder.

"so?"

"so I ain't even supposed to look your way babygirl- it ain't right"

"But why?" you pouted "Shouldn't I get to have a say in what's right and wrong for me?"

He sighed, not really knowing what to answer to that.

"What if I don't care?" you spoke softly, your pointer finger on his chest, circling his pec "What if I like you, Joel? what if I wanted to show you just how much right now?"

"sweetheart" he started, shaking his head

"You'd stop me?"

And there it was, the pause... your way in.

"Joel?" you called for him, your voice sickly sweet "Would you?"

He couldn't do anything but tell the truth when you were looking at him like that.

"I don't think any man in his right mind could or would ever stop you darlin'"

Satisfaction took over your whole body.

"no?" you teased, grinning like a cat "Not even if he's old enough to be my father?"

He sighed, what looked like resignation in his eyes.

"I'm just a man sweetheart"

And that- that got him the biggest smirk ever known to man.

There was no sound, it was like the word got quiet as you stood up, placed your hands on his thighs, and slowly kneeled between his legs.

He didn't know what to do, he was genuinely frozen, torn between guilt and attraction, the need to let go, to finally do this- that his brain was short-circuiting.

You took advantage of his silence, making quick work of his zipper, and pulling down his boxers just enough to free his cock...

All your speculations got proven right there- he was huge.

"oh wow," you bit down a grin as you watched your fingers struggle to wrap around his whole base.

You gave him a tentative squeeze, and the strained groan rumbling from his chest was just about the hottest thing you'd ever heard.

"y-you- f-fuck"

You stopped him before he could start protesting, your tongue sliding slowly on his tip before leaving a little kiss right on top.

"You're so big" you hummed, your tongue licking him up from base to head, feeling every vein and twitch of his member.

He was looking down at you just as you looked at him, and he seemed... mesmerized, like he couldn't believe this was really happening, that this wasn't another one of the dreams he'd get about you at night, and that it was really your lips wrapping around him.

Goddamnit

You had barely a little more than his tip in your mouth and he was already gone- and I mean gone gone.

He couldn't even remember why he'd spent so long ignoring your not-so-subtle hints-

Just a minute ago he wanted to tell you that no, you don't gotta do that, and ask you sure about this? - But now... now all he could do was throw his head back as he realized that his lack of practice these past few years had really gotten to him, and that he already had to grab at the chair beneath him with all his strength as he tried not to come embarrassingly fast.

You hummed around his cock, and he couldn't stop his hips from thrusting upwards, a small choking sound fleeing your throat.

"goddamnit, 'm sorry baby-"

But the moment he looked down at you, he saw everything but anger... you seemed happy- you were begging him to do it again with your eyes.

But he couldn't, and part of you already knew that.

He shook his head slowly, still trying to think as straight as he could given the situation, but while he was busy with that... you settled for the next best thing... you forced his manhood down your throat all on your own.

The groan he let out was damn near feral.

You couldn't actually get all of it down there, it was the biggest dick you'd ever seen in your life after all, but you swore that with a little bit of practice (that he'd hopefully grant you), you'd get there.

Still, he didn't really seem bothered or in any way disappointed by your inability.

It was an indescribable feeling seeing this tough, rugged man shiver with pleasure before you, his eyes shut and knuckles white with the effort of gripping onto something.

"I- fuck"

He didn't even know what he wanted to say, he just... it felt so fucking good

Your head was back on bobbing up and down his length, and what used to be groans had turned to moans coming out of his mouth.

"Y-you've gotta-" he swallowed, his sentence interrupted by the feeling of your fingers playing with his balls.

"Y-you've got t-" to stop

But you were choking on his girth again

"I-'m gonna-" come

You watched him struggle with his words, his breathing, and his self-control with what would have been a huge smirk on your face if your mouth hadn't been so preoccupied.

You knew he was about to come already, it really wasn't hard to understand,

You also knew that if you stopped now there was a chance you'd get to do more later- but really, this was something too perfect to leave halfway done, and besides... you feared that if you went with your initial plan of straddling his lap and riding the man to heaven, you'd leave him traumatized.

So you didn't stop, you kept massaging his balls as you worked his dick in and out your mouth, ever so often forcing him as deep as you could and choking while drool and saliva dripped down your chin.

"J-Jesus, sweetheart- I-"

All his words came out in rugged breaths, barely coherent- his eyes were back on you, shadows of lust and need darkening his iris as his right hand went to your cheek, a gesture almost too sweet considering what you were doing.

"F-fuck"

And that was it.

He groaned so loud you probably could hear him from outside the house as he reached his climax, rope after rope of his come filling your mouth and throat.

Joel Miller had come in your mouth... and it couldn't have been any more perfect.

You didn't take your eyes off him for one second. You greedily swallowed all his spent as he breathed heavily, eyes still closed.

His dick was softening in your hand as you pulled his boxers back on top of it, a little wave of disappointment washing over your gut.

It's ok, I'll see it again soon

Just as you were plotting exactly how you were gonna get in his pants in the future, his voice startled you

"I-I don't know what to say"

A soft smile pulled at your lips

"You don't have to say anything" you reassured him as you sat back on your chair, your eyes inevitably falling back to where his boxers peeked from the unfasted fly.

"now- I won't keep you hostage any longer, 'm sure you have important stuff to do back at your house"

The frowns on his forehead deepened as his eyebrows came together in confusion.

"What?"

Now you were confused.

"I'm just saying- thank you for... this" You bit down a smile "You know how long I've been wanting it- and you can bet your ass we're doing it and more, again and again, and again" his eyes widened an almost imperceptible amount and you had to stifle a laugh "but... I'm letting you free for tonight"

He took his time to say something.

Silence wrapped around you for a good minute before he was able to mumble something.

"sweetheart-" he cleared his throat to try and clear his thoughts "I-I dunno how you're used to... bein' treated, but this ain't over"

A spark of excitement ignited in your belly

He couldn't mean...

"unless you want it to be, of course"

Oh my

"I definitely don't want it to be" you hastily spoke, almost breathless "but I would like to know what you... mean"

I mean, not to be prejudiced, but you very much doubted he could get it up again so quickly given his... well, age.

He cleared his throat again and you finally realized it was just a nervous tic and he didn't actually feel the need to.

"You should be on a bed" he avoided your question

You couldn't help but smile as you got up

"Such a gentleman"

"that's the last word that comes to mind right now" was all he grumbled

__ __ __

"sit"

that's all he said, and now there you were, sitting on your bed as he looked at you with a mix of lust and uncertainty.

Until he finally did it- he crouched between your legs.

He cleared his throat again, and you felt on the urge of cumbusting.

he was gonna eat you out

You'd only ever done this once, and even then you had to basically beg the guy, just for him to be god-awful at it.

Somehow you had a feeling Joel wasn't gonna be bad at all.

"You sure about this, yeah?"

You fought the urge to roll your eyes.

He could probably ask you to put it up your ass and you'd say yes.

"Yes Joel, I'm 100% positive"

He gave you a little nod, and his hands- his big, strong hands- went to your thighs.

You watched him as if he'd disappear at any moment as he slowly- oh so very slowly- took your skirt off.

He swallowed tightly as his eyes fell on your clothed cunt.

If you didn't know any better you would have guessed he was holding his breath as he got rid of your panties.

"Jesus Christ"

I shouldn't be doing this- I really shouldn't be fucking doing this.

She's not even half my age- she's a kid for god's sake- I'm fucking disgustin-

Every single thought in his mind turned to dust the moment you spread your legs- the moment your wet, drenched, pussy came fully into view.

"Y-you-"

he didn't even remember what he wanted to say- and he didn't remember when his thumb had decided to find your folds, but it had.

He heard a whimper leave your mouth and he felt his cock twitch in his pants, hardening again.

It usually took him a whole fucking hour to get hard again

He looked up at you, and you looked hotter than ever before.

Your cheeks were flushed, your bottom lip was between your teeth, and you looked so... perfect.

"I haven't done this in a- while"

As he spoke those words he hoped you'd think he only meant this... as if you'd actually care about how he hadn't gotten laid in years.

"'s ok Joel" you nodded, smiling encouragingly.

He swallowed again, his gaze slowly lowering.

He couldn't believe you were this wet for him- a pretty thing like you.

His thumb moved, gently sliding up and up and up, until he found your clit, earning another little moan.

Fuck

He circled the little bud, and your cries got a little higher and he swore- he swore going to hell was worth it, worth this.

He had to taste you- fuck, he'd been dreaming about the taste of you since he first saw you- So with all the carefulness in the word, he bent down, his lips finding your soft thighs.

He could see your belly inflate and deflate with your exited breaths as he kissed his way closer and closer to your heat, until he was right there, and he couldn't help but leave a kiss on your mound, on the hair covering it so very nicely.

"Joel-" your voice was strangled "please"

If it had been twenty years ago he would have said something cocky like "'s ok baby, it's coming", his whole demeanor would have been very different too. He used to be in charge in the bedroom, always- he used to feel smug and sure of himself, but now... now he was old and out of practice, and he was... he was nervous.

But all it took was to look up at you, at those beautiful pleading eyes, to find the courage.

You wanted this. You wanted him.

And you tasted better than he could have ever fucking imagined.

A deep, feral groan rumbled in his chest as his tongue passed between your folds, as he gathered all your slickness on his taste buds, all that sweet sweet juice that felt like fucking heaven.

Yeah, now I remember why I used to love this so much

You were moaning like a desperate little thing above him, your thighs squeezing his face as your feet clung to his torso.

And he was gripping the outside of your legs, keeping you as close to him as humanly possible, his face as deep in your core as it would go.

His nose was rubbing against your clit in a way that made you see stars, and he was still lapping, not focusing on anywhere in particular, just aimlessly and desperately feeding off of you.

"Oh my god Joel-" you gasped as two of his fingers found their way inside of you.

His movements were slow, he didn't wanna hurt you, and he wanted to find what made you feel good, which is why he kept exploring until his digits curled up into that sweet cushy part of you, and he felt you squeeze him as you threw your head back.

"f-fuck!"

Your left hand had traveled to his locks, gripping them tightly as your hips frantically moved against his face to try and seek more.

His mouth was focusing only on your clit now, thoroughly sucking on it- and just when you thought this couldn't get any better, that this was the most pleasure you'd ever experienced and there was no way he would be able to top this- another one of his big, thick fingers pushed into you.

The cry you let out was something Joel would be thinking of until he was six feet under.

Three of his fingers were so much more than what you were used to.

"J-Joel" you whimpered actual tears staining your vision as you looked down at him "Oh my fucking g-god Joel"

Your gut had been right. He was really fucking good at this

He was watching you, studying every little face you made as the squelching of his fingers moving inside of you filled the room together with your moans.

"I-I'm coming"

You could barely finish the sentence that the world went bright, and the purest pleasure you'd ever felt erupted in your body with a million different blasts.

For a whole minute, you were in another universe- and Joel eagerly enjoyed the show, not stopping his movements for even a fraction of a second.

You feared the moment you opened your eyes you'd wake up in your bed after yet another dream about this man- and yet he was still here, looking up at you with only adoration in his eyes.

He couldn't help but steal another little kiss on your core before he leaned away.

"well... wow" you smiled like an idiot, your breathing still a little labored "You know what you're doing Mr. Miller"

He didn't say anything, but you saw pink flush his cheeks again as he let your legs go, robbing you of his touch.

You would have been disappointed if it wasn't for the fact he was very clearly having trouble not having his gaze fall down to your heat.

You smiled to yourself as you accepted the skirt he quietly handed you.

Seeing you standing before him with it on when he knew you were bare and wet underneath made Joel's brain freeze for a moment, but that was of course, until you stood on your tiptoes, and placed a kiss on his cheek.

"thank you for this Joel"

Your voice was so sweet it sounded angelic to his ears- but the sweetness was replaced by something very different very quickly.

As you stood back down to your normal height, your body, being flushed against Joel's, came in contact with something that very much piqued your interest.

he was hard- very fucking hard

"no babygirl"

he was already shaking his head, crushing all your dreams

"but-"

"I can't" his tone was firm, although you could still hear restraint behind his words, like it was costing him a lot to say no.

"It feels to me like you very much can" you rebutted, smirking softly.

"I- it ain't right"

Oh my god

It took a lot not to roll your eyes "I thought we were past that whole thing" you said, cocking an eyebrow "Do I need to remind you what you were doing just a minute ago?"

"that's different"

"How?"

"it just is"

"what if I beg you Joel?" you purred, your best doe eyes looking up at him "What if I told you about how much I'd like to feel your cock inside of me? How desperate I am for it, Joel- how much I need it"

He was gonna go home and punch himself in the face for what he was about to say.

But it was true, he couldn't. It wasn't right- he needed... to think about it at least

"darlin'" he spoke softly "I can't... not right now"

there it is

The smirk that pulled at your lips was the most mischievous thing in the world.

"right now" you repeated his words, biting your lip as you played with the hem of his flannel "I can live with that- but Joel...don't even think this is over"

[heesimp]

how would hyung line be with a younger gf who was a virgin ? :p

• heeseung is the one most excited that his girlfriend’s a virgin. probably knew about it since before they started dating and has secretly wanted to take it for so long. will also try to coax you into having sex with him when he’s eating you out or fingering you but ultimately waits until you’re ready, and he’s so smug about it too.

you’ll probably ask him to take it slow and to not make it hurt but he just laughs in your ear and says something like, “I can’t promise that” which makes your pussy clench. teaches you how good sex can feel.

• jay is ever the respectful gentleman but won’t tell you he’s excited that he’s gonna be the one to take your virginity. he builds it up too (I don’t think he would make a huge thing out of it but when you tell him you’re ready, jay wants to make sure he draws out your pleasure for as long as possible.

would probably be praising you the entire time, especially if you whine so much. lots of “hang in there, okay?” and “you can do it, honey. my cock’s gotta make you feel really good.”

• I think jake is also somebody who’d try to keep his cool and help you through it, but his eagerness shows up somewhere between heeseung and jay. jake would kinda rush through foreplay and would not allow himself to cum unless it was inside you.

he pushes his cock inside of you a little too early and loves it when you yelp and try to reach out and touch him. “so cute taking my cock like that,” he’d say when you squirm around him.

• sunghoon I could see either very sweet and patient or very filthy. on one hand, he loves you so much that he never wants to make you feel like you need to give it up for him until you say you’re ready, and he’s going slow by prepping your pussy with him mouth and fingers before sliding into you. hoon would say things like “you’re everything” and “breathe for me, baby.”

on the other, sunghoon would get so hard every time he remembers you’re a virgin. the first time he ever got the chance to stick his dick in your pussy was like a wet dream. the sight of his cock disappearing into your pussy was too much. lots of “my cock was made for you” and “can’t believe you’re not a virgin anymore” as if to mock you while he slides his dick in and out of you.

[aakeysmash]

maybes and sunscreen

college!sukuna masterlist

after almost a year of living together, you and college!sukuna are so accustomed to one another that you naturally slip up in the other’s conversations. maybe it's because you're both homebodies, or maybe it's because you've reached the silent agreement to keep the activities you do with yuuji hidden to preserve his innocent childhood (you learned that rumors run a long way inside your campus), or maybe it's because you started to ask sukuna less private questions, since he now seems to want to answer them even before you formulate them.

either way, the two of you always mention the other in conversations, and you don't even seem to notice, but your friends do.

"how about your house, man?" suguru asks sukuna from across the table, sipping his soda. they're sitting outside with satoru for lunch break, slouching on white plastic chairs, waiting for practice to start in less than ten minutes. days are getting longer the more summer break gets nearer, and the breeze flowing through the newly green leaves of the trees is a nice change from the humid stench of the locker rooms.

"dunno. the woman of the house is gonna bake cookies today," he shrugs, scrolling through his phone. he finds himself on a blurry zoomed in photo of a kitten covered in milk, and he smirks, hitting send after having selected your contact. you're going to love it.

"and?" geto asks, confused.

"and i don't know if she wants me to help her or not," sukuna continues, not bothering to look up from his screen, acting like he's not going to pester you until you let him help. and steal some of your cookie batter, too.

"it's the finale, bro, we've been talking about it since december. are you really not going to watch it for some cookies?" his raven haired friend exclaims, baffled. satoru only lowers his glasses on his nose, crossing his arms on his chest.

"oh, i'm going to watch it. got her hooked up on it too," the pink haired man says, a certain tilt to his voice matching the tilt of his head, as if he's saying are you crazy? i'm not missing it. "i don't know if she'd want you there, though."

geto rolls his eyes and satoru snickers, shaking his head. "we just want to watch the game on your tv. are you afraid she's going to feel uncomfortable with us there, my lord captain?" he mocks, sighing. lazily, sukuna glances his way.

"it's not her i'm worried about," he says, raising one of his eyebrows, maroon eyes squinting on a spot behind his friend's back.

"what does that even mean?" mutters geto, even more confused. it’s not like they’ve never seen you or have never been inside your house when you were there, so what’s different this time?

suddenly, sukuna grins like a madman, uncrossing his legs from on top of the table and standing up with his helmet under his arm.

“where are you goi-“ his dark haired friend starts, but satoru puts one of his hands on the other’s shoulder, effectively stopping him, whispering just wait.

sukuna takes a couple of steps, getting out of the gentle shadows of the trees above the table, still grinning.

“hi, baby. did you miss me so much you had to come to see me at practice?” he asks your nearing figure. you’re wearing a dress, the breeze soothingly flowing through your hair, and he takes a second to admire how graceful you look in the middle of the green garden. are the flowers you picked with yuuji the other day still fresh? maybe he should get more. maybe you’d like that. maybe you’d smile. maybe you'd thank him.

“i’m here because i knew you were never going to bring sunscreen with you, dickhead,” you huff, blowing your hair out of your vision, frowning. his grin only grows before he forces it away. typical.

“i don’t need that shit,” he rolls his eyes, turning on his heels and going towards the stadium. he knows you’re going to follow him. and you do.

“put it on! i’m not joking, sukuna,” you whine, trying to fall in step with him. “it’s going to be so good for your skin, come on.”

“it’s sticky and i don’t like feeling like a pussy,” he growls, going faster toward the benches inside the stadium and plopping down on them.

“you like pussy, though,” you shrug, forcing yourself between his parted legs, rummaging through your bag.

“i like you too, baby, but that doesn’t mean you’ll let me stick it in your pussy, does it,” he asks you smugly. you punch him on the shoulder, bewildered.

“you’re so disgusting,” you scoff, opening the little spf tube you brought in your purse just for him. "and don't tell me you like me when you never listen to me in the first place," you playfully add, caressing his face to smooth it out, and he lets you get his unruly hair off of his forehead. maybe he likes how you don't take the things he says to heart. maybe he just says them because he knows he's getting a snarky comment back.

“you didn’t say no, though,” he chuckles, closing his eyes and letting himself bask in your presence. your touch on his features is relaxing. he honestly thinks he could fall asleep if you were in any other setting.

“i’m letting you talk just because i’m in a male dominated field and even if i don’t agree i don’t want to die,” you deadpan. you smear the white cream on his nose, on top of the horizontal tattoo, and massage it into his skin. then you do the same thing with his other markings, making sure they’re protected enough to shimmer in the blazing hot sun.

“i wouldn’t let you die on me anyway,” he mutters. he gets both of his hands on your exposed thighs, keeping you closer, softly rubbing his thumbs in your muscles. "are you fucking finished? i hate this," he bites, frowning. you hum, lazily smiling down at him, rubbing his frown away with your fingertips.

"you're going to be the prettiest girl on the field," you coo. you can feel his mean glare from beneath his eyelids, and you almost shiver. "you're so going to thank me in a couple of years," you add, resting your palms on his cheeks and turning his head up. he opens his eyes slowly, staring into yours intently. his thumb catches on the fluttering hem of you dress while he draws little circles on your legs. he hears his coach screaming for his team to start running, but in this moment, he doesn't care that much. maybe the heat is getting to his head. maybe the soft smile you're looking at him with is making him a little bit weak in the knees.

"wanna make cookies today? we can watch the match together, perhaps ask the brat if he wants to join too," he says, rough voice kept low, almost as if this was a you and him kind of thing. maybe he already planned to ask you to do something with him when he was talking to his friends just a couple of minutes ago. maybe he lied, telling them you were the one who chose to do something, when it's not true. maybe the way satoru is patting suguru on the back with an "i told you so" look on his face isn't casual. maybe the one he was worried about all along was himself.

"wouldn't you prefer to watch it with your friends?" you ask him, tilting your head, positioning your thumbs on the fake tattoos on his cheekbones. almost as if you could cover their pupils and make him see less.

"wouldn't you prefer to watch it with me?" he genuinely responds, a somber look on his features. you think it's the first time he doesn't have a mocking grin on his lips. you ruffle the pink hair just above his left ear.

"maybe."

[frenchie-simone]

Logan Howlett x f!reader: breeding kink/baby trapping

warnings/tags: SMUT 18+!!!, f!reader, unprotected piv, breeding kink, baby trapping, overstimulation

a/n: this ain’t very good and not proofread either but i needed to get my thoughts written down cause… i want Logan to put a baby in me or whatever. if i forgot any tags or warnings let me know!!

maybe you should have worn a condom. in all honesty, the thought hadn’t even crossed your mind, you’d been too occupied with the need to feel every single inch and vein of Logan’s rock hard cock inside of you.

now, here you are, getting pounded into the bed from the back, with Logan thrusts growing more and more desperate. his moans of pleasure match your own, with your face turned to the side, cheek squished against the mattress. the tip of his length kisses that sweet spot deep inside repeatedly, and you’re close, so close. and by the twitching of Logan’s cock inside you, he must be as well.

“ngh! I’m close, Logan!”, you mewl, struggling to even make words come out by the sheer intensity of his thrusts. Logan only grunts in response, his body coming to rest on top of yours while he keeps rolling his hips into you with no remorse.

“f-fuck, come for me, baby. n-need you to” he stutters out, his thrust growing unsteady but desperate. he hits that sweet spot again, and with a cry of his name, you tip over the edge, your eyes rolling to the back of your head whilst he keeps pumping into you relentlessly. he feels you clenching down on his cock, and he lets out a ragged moan, burying his face in the crook of your neck. then suddenly, without warning, he empties his load inside of you. you gasp as you feel his seed spill into you, a mixture of surprise and pleasure. Logan slumps down on your body, nearly crushing you beneath his weight, but he’s trying to hold himself up with his forearms planted on either side of your head. to your shock, he keeps lazily drilling his cock into your overstimulated cunt, somehow spilling even more of his cum. you whimper beneath him, unable to move much.

“Logan!” you try to scold him, stop him, but he only growls in response. eventually, his emptied all of his cum into your aching hole, and his hips still.

“m’sorry… needed to cum in you” he mumbles, but there’s no real apology in his voice. despite your better judgment, his words are so hot, and you can just about mutter out a response.

“I’m not on birth control…” you remind him, but you’re shocked when you feel his cock become hard again. he growls in approval, his teeth latching on to the soft skin of your neck.

“good. gonna have you stuffed full with my seed, your belly all swollen with my cubs…” he says, his tone gruff, his eyes almost feral. your eyes go wide, equal parts terror and arousal in your expression. his teeth sink into your skin, not hard enough to pierce, but enough to make you squeal.

you can’t bring it in yourself to refuse, to protest. so you let Logan flip you over on your back, and he almost immediately starts thrusting into you with a newfound vigour and urgency.

at the end of the night, when Logan is finally spent, and you feel like a used ragdoll, you lie on your back, feeling your mixed releases slowly spilling onto the bed. you whine and when you suddenly feel Logan’s two thick fingers plunging into your used pussy, plugging his cum in you.

“can’t have it go to waste, baby…”

[alchemistc]

You never let me in, Buck sends, two of three sheets fully winded, and when he kicks his leg over the coffee table he nearly knocks over three empties.

They do this thing, right? Buck gets upset and before the tears can fall, because he's cried too many fucking times already, he makes himself angry. Picks at something that has come up every time he's done a post-mortem on the last six months.

And then he sends that shit to Tommy. Because - because who the fuck else is he supposed to talk to about it? The guy who'd sucked him off in the hallway of a nightclub two weeks ago? The woman who'd spent an hour quietly helping Buck understand that yeah, he was very much bi, and yeah, some people did not like that shit? Maddie, or Chim, or Hen or Eddie, who still might interact with him on the job? Bobby? Fuck, not Bobby.

Bobby who'd blinked at Buck and offered platitudes and apologized to Buck like it was somehow his fault Tommy was good people but he was the kind of good people who just walked out on something that could have been something.

I should have pushed more. I know I should have. I just thought since I was trying to share everything, you were too.

My mistake.

Three months and Buck isn't over it. He's far enough into the mourning process that he thinks this one is always gonna sting, and not for the reasons Tommy thinks.

That's not fair. I'm sorry.

The texts get delivered. Tommy reads them. Buck's had read receipts on since the first time Tommy went quiet on a call and Buck freaked out a little - but back then they were still working towards something. Back then, sometimes Tommy would pull out his phone and open the thread just to give Buck sign of life.

He was always doing that. Heading shit off at the pass.

Buck had just never realized he'd be able to do it to hurt him, just as well as take care of him.

Every four weeks like clockwork Buck gets a response. He has no fucking idea why it's four weeks, what the third Thursday of the month has to do with Tommy feeling gracious enough to give Buck some clarity. He'd never known enough about Tommy, is the thing he's coming around to. He'd done everything he could to bring Tommy in, make him a part, and Tommy had let him. Tommy had distracted him with quippy words and a clever tongue and with being so fucking willing to be integrated into Buck's life that Buck just - hadn't noticed.

No one will say it, but he Bucked It Up in the worst kind of way.

He's waited until Third Thursday to send these texts. He actually hasn't sent anything at all, until this moment, and he wonders if Tommy noticed. If he cared. Tommy picks and chooses from Buck's random thoughts, parses out details like he's reading from a manual and Buck is off topic two thirds of the time. Buck doesn't actually know why he's been answering, all this time. He wonders if, in the last four weeks of silence, he thought he was finally done with Buck.

He wonders if it had hurt.

Buck sets his phone down to stand, skating across to the kitchen in his socks for the pizza rolls in the oven.

His diet is shit. His body feels like crap. He's one more drunken nights sleep on the couch away from emptying the rack in his fridge down the drain and giving sobriety a try. The last person he'd slept with had hinted that they'd prefer not to use condoms and Buck had almost let them.

Buck has worth. He knows he does. It's just sometimes when he remembers that every person he's ever loved has either walked out on him or let him walk away when he needed them, he struggles to find that worth.

His life has meaning, and all that jazz.

Buck sort of wonders if Tommy hasn't finally blocked his number, as he tosses a too-hot pizza roll in his mouth and huffs on the lava cheese burning his tongue. After the last message Buck had sent, three weeks ago, he wouldn't exactly be surprised.

(This is basically just an unhinged grief journal with an unreliable second narrator. Do you know what it's like to realize you're still in love with someone who never let you know them?)

There's been no response to that. Fair. Buck hadn't even actually said the words. No, he'd jumped right into the sharing a life part, cart before the horse as always when emotions were high.

The pizza rolls get tipped onto a plate and are immediately swimming in the heavy pour of ranch he'd prepared after he set the oven to preheat.

It cools them off a lot quicker than popping a hole in each seam and waiting.

It's been eight years since Buck has really even thought about that little trick.

When he opens his phone there's no response. No receipt. Just stark words waiting to be acknowledged.

I gave you my family, Tommy. You didn't even introduce me to your team at Harbor.

It's startling to realize after the fact. He doubts Tommy had meant it that way, but he'd basically spent six months being love bombed only to have the rug ripped right out from under his feet.

And yet. Months later and he still wants to know. Know why. Know how he could have done it, with tears in his eyes, with full awareness that it was already gonna hurt. Know Tommy - anything he'd part with, really, that wasn't something every random acquaintance also knew.

Cool, he'd been jealous of what Buck and the 118 had. (Buck had tried to give him that. Or at least he thought he had.)

Great, he didn't talk to his dad and Gerrard was a shitty captain. (Buck had spent an hour once explaining the first time he and his dad had spoken about Daniel without screaming at each other. Tommy had listened to the rants about Gerrard and offered physical comfort and a 'sounds like him' and Buck had just been so relieved to have an ally amongst the 'life is just like this sometimes' crowd that he'd never examined that.)

He was a Kinsey six who'd been engaged to the first woman Buck had ever really loved and they'd never dug deeper than that.

And Buck had apparently interpreted some of the shit he'd said that night wrong, but he still doesn't think it's fucking fair that Tommy can't trust him to know his own fucking mind well enough to know he hates sleeping around and he'd found the sort of connection he was looking for. He'd found it. Even with the lack of reciprocation. Even with the quiet behind Tommy's eyes that he'd never let Buck in on. Even with the -

His phone buzzes on the coffee table.

Can we talk?

Buck kinda hates those words in that order now. They'd been the start of something twice, but they'd always been leading to an end, if Tommy had his way.

Once every four weeks, apparently, Buck sends back and takes a vicious bite.

His phone chimes with an incoming call.

Buck stares at the name he hasn't had the stomach to remove the little heart from. Lets it ring through to voicemail and then shoves three more pizza rolls into his mouth and doesn't care if they burn off his taste buds.

His phone rings again.

"What?"

"I'm outside your building. Didn't want to make any assumptions that I'd be welcome without asking first."

Buck can feel his ribs cracking under the lurch of angry laughter. "What the hell?"

"Well the parking around here is miserable again, so I figure that's a sign."

"Are you driving right now?"

"Hands off. I'm on Bluetooth. So. Should I circle the building a fifth time or call it now and go home?"

Buck gets stuck on fifth time.

There's no way he hadn't been driving since at least before Buck sent that first text.

Buck sighs. There's absolutely no reason to be hopeful about that. For all he knows, Tommy has just decided dousing any residual flames is just another thing he has to do in person.

"My Jeep's in the shop. I'll buzz you into the garage."

Tommy's silent for a long, long moment. The quip comes anyway. "I keep telling you that thing is a money pit."

"I'm not really feeling the flirty banter, right now, Tommy, so maybe just let me know when you're at the gate."

He does. He hangs up the phone twenty seconds later with a plain "See you soon."

Buck doesn't have time to change. Fix his hair. Hide the sheet pan with half a dozen pizza rolls still laying on it, because he'd cooked way too many again.

(He could absolutely do one of these things but if Tommy's gonna throw this at him, he's getting every little slovenly habit Bucks's picked up since he walked out that door.)

The knock comes while Buck's shoving the last two rolls on his plate into his mouth.

He's still chewing with his mouth open to blow out the steam when he swings the door open, and Buck feels the first inklings of pleasure ripple through him at the sight of Tommy.

He looks like shit.

"You look like shit."

Tommy's brow ticks up. He stares pointedly at the glob of not-cheese that's going to absolutely ruin this sweatshirt.

"That tends to happen when you spend an hour in an armchair two sizes too small picking at trauma you've been hiding from your therapist for six years."

Buck opens the door wider. Holy crap. Tommy might legitimately be more fucked up than Buck.

Tommy's smile is strained. "Can I come in?"

Buck holds his gaze. His eyes are a little red. He's got a red spot along the side of his neck, like he's been rubbing at it. Buck only recognizes it as a comforting motion because he's replayed him doing it half a million times right before he ended things.

"Depends. Is this the last time you respond to my mean, rude, asshole texts for an hour after therapy rubs you raw?" Third Thursday Therapy, is apparently what does it. Buck is - god. He just wants -

"God, I hope not," Tommy says, and Buck takes a step to the side to let Tommy in.

[wonderjanga]

Kill Licenses

Stargirl was excited! Captain Marvel had just offered to let her fight crime with him in Fawcett. The man was like a big brother to everyone. That included her. He was super nice, was normally the person who first stepped up to diffuse a situation, and overall just a big teddy bear of a man. So it was a little bit a of a surprise when she saw him snap a rapist’s neck like a twig.

Marvel: *drops the body, muttering something about paperwork*

Stargirl: *gobsmacked*

Marvel: *looks over to her for a second before doing a double take* “Oh my gods I forgot you were here!” *sounds horrified*

Stargirl: “You just killed a man!”

Marvel: “I know- I know!” *leads her away from the body* “I’m so sorry you had to see that.” *sounds completely ashamed*

Stargirl: “There’s nothing to be sorry about. You killed a rapist. That’s one less evil in the world, but my question is how are you gonna get away with this?! Cap, you’re gonna go to jail!”

Marvel: “Ah… Well, no. I have a license to kill.”

Stargirl: “Wait, you can actually have one of those?”

Marvel: “Yeah, uh me, and most of the other Fawcett heroes have one. We’ve all had them since the sixties and had to get them renewed a while back. It’s not a bad thing to have for situations like this.”

Stargirl: “…Can I have one?”

Marvel: “Yes? No? I don’t know? You should in my opinion. It’s a good safety net for if you accidentally kill a villain. You just fill out some paperwork and you’ll be safe. Do you want one…?”

Stargirl: “Yes.” *immediate answer*

Marvel: “Are you sure? I mean, you’re a teenager, so you might need a parent to sign or something.”

Stargirl: “Well, I don’t have a parent right now, but I do technically have a temporary guardian at the moment.” *eyes him*

Marvel: “No… you’re not seriously suggesting…?”

And that’s how Marvel ended up taking Stargirl to a secret government base so she could get a kill license. Stargirl got a stellar recommendation from the Captain and passed with flying colors.

As they’re leaving the base…

Marvel: “Okay, so we need to lay some ground rules.”

Stargirl: “Ground rules?”

Marvel: “Yeah, ground rules. Now I know you’re not the type of kid to go around killing people all willy-nilly, but I’ll say it just in case, don’t go killing people all willy-nilly.”

Stargirl: “Well, duh, I’m not dumb.”

Marvel: “I know you aren’t. And now onto the actually important rule. Under any circumstances, do not kill around other heroes. That’s how Huntress got kicked out of the Justice League after all.”

Stargirl: “I can’t even do it around you?”

Marvel: “Well, I guess you could. And I guess you could do it around the other Fawcett heroes, but just make sure not to do it around heroes who don’t have a license, okay? I don’t wanna get in trouble, and I doubt you wanna get in trouble too.”

Stargirl: “Gotcha.”

Marvel: “Nice. Now that that’s out of the way, wanna go for victory ice cream since you got your license?”

A solid four months passed after this incident. The two forgot about it. They were chilling. Then, Courtney forgot that her stepdad didn’t know that she could legally kill a villain, fill out some paperwork, and face no repercussions.

S.T.R.I.P.E.: “YOU TOOK MY STEPDAUGHTER OUT TO GET A KILL LICENSE?! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!”

Marvel: “Nothing! I didn’t think it was a bad thing!”

S.T.R.I.P.E.: “She’s sixteen. She sliced a man’s head off. CLEAN. With practiced precision. She doesn’t even have a drivers license! What in hell would make you think it’s a good idea to give her a kill license?!”

Marvel: “Okay, her slicing off someone’s head isn’t my fault. I didn’t teach her that, and the guys who gave her the license didn’t either.”

S.T.R.I.P.E.: “Then who did??”

Marvel: “I don’t know! Maybe she’s just bloodthirsty?”

Stargirl: “No I’m not?” *sounds slightly offended*

Marvel: *ignores her* “Look, the point is, I’m sorry for not telling you but please, please, pretty please don’t tell Batman.”

S.T.R.I.P.E.: “Why?”

Marvel: “Oh come on. He’s super anti-kill. If you told him he’d have me removed from the Justice League almost instantly.”

S.T.R.I.P.E.: “Maybe you should be removed! You don’t just give a kid the okay to kill someone.”

Marvel: “I’m not giving her an okay to do anything. I only wanted her to have it as a safety net. I promise.”

It took a lot of convincing for Pat not to squeal to Batman, but thankfully, they got it in the end. Though, the man still ended up chewing the two out.

Inspired by @helps-the-writing-brain-go’s repost on my We Thought You Died?! post :) Thanks for the inspo!

[syabm]

Radfems aren't exactly leftists. They're pretty roundly shunned by leftists because of their transphobia.

BZZT! Wrong!

TERFs are hated, because they hate trans ladies, who out-minority regular ladies. Non-TERF radfems have mostly been ignored as an embarrassment, like Rochester's wife in the attic.

Frankly, I think it's quite telling that the only type of feminists it's okay for mainstream progressives to openly hate are two degrees from regular feminism.

And even then, a lot of people ignore how the hatred of trans women is from hating men, and misuse "TERF" as a shorthand for "anyone considered transphobic".

Including me. And I'm a man.

Also, they don't stop being leftists just because other leftists hate them. By that logic, all the times communists and socialists have tussled means neither of those groups were leftist.

Please note that I have seen quite a few explicitly leftist radfems.

Most of my friends are leftist women. If they hate me for being a man, they hide it well. Even the lesbians.

Your experiences are not universal.

Such as, somehow, missing the Man vs Bear In The Woods meme. Or the M&Ms meme. Or Schrodinger's Rapist. Or Russian Roulette.

In fact, feminists have spent a lot of time and effort on ways to say it's perfectly fine for women to assume a man is a bad person by default.

To say any group dominated by men will be misogynist, but not being worried about the converse, ever.

I think that qualifies as "hate".

"funny how women dont turn to fascism and rightwing politics in masses because of the hatred and discrimination we are and have been faced with for centuries 🤨" Don't take things out of context.

See, I interpreted that part as the cause.

Saying women aren't becoming right wing "in masses", and it is because they have been discriminated against for centuries.

You could argue that the radfems I mentioned are an exception to the rule I pointed out of how right-wing women downplay misogyny to spite feminism, but radfems don't neatly fall on either side of the left/right divide. They're too feminist for the right and too transphobic for the left.

Here's a clue. The name.

Feminists are progressives. Radical feminists, as the name would indicate, are extremists, so they're just further along that line.

Which leaves them progressive-to-leftist, IME.

Also, Trans-Inclusionary radfems are a thing.

I'm not sure why you're devoting so much effort to addressing this one tangent, instead of my much more important and relevant points.

But I can guess.

I just want to remind you that I consider you someone who is always wrong and acts out of left-wing partisanship, so I have literally no reason to believe a word you say without very, very good evidence.

Also, my hands are cramping now, and this is already off topic, so I'm gonna stop. Night!

I couldn't have said it better myself.

[russo-woso]

hiii! can I please request an aitana x reader blurb where reader is one of barca’s medical staff and aitana has a crush on her so she keeps coming to visit her for really minimal/exaggerated injuries just to talk to and be around her (and maybe some of her teammates find out and start teasing her for it) thank you!!

Injury prone || Aitana Bonmati x physio!reader

Warning slight mention of injuries

Summary Aitana is always finding a reason to come see you in the medical room

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“Back again are we?” You asked Aitana as she blushed, her cheeks turning a red colour.

“I tweaked my ankle in training.” She responded, stuttering a bit due to the language struggle, but trying her best either way.

“Again? What’s this? The fifth time this week?” You questioned her, a smirk resting on your face as you watched her face turn more red.

She just shrugged in response, lifting herself onto the bed.

“I’m clumsy? Is that the right word?”

“It certainly is. Now, how did it happen?”

“Umm… I… fell over the ball.” Aitana replied after a few seconds of thinking.

“Sure you did. Right, I’m not gonna wrap it up but I’m gonna suggest you ice it.” You told her, Aitana nodding along with your words. “Get plenty of rest and hopefully I won’t have to see you tomorrow, not for any injuries that is.”

“Okay, thank you, Y/N.” She said, pressing a friendly kiss to your cheek before walking out the room.

—

“What now? Your knee?” You asked jokingly as Aitana walked into the medical room.

“My shoulder, I fell on it.” Aitana explained, massaging her shoulder gently.

“Hmm, let’s take a look.”

Aitana took her shirt off, leaving her in her sports bra.

You took a good look at her shoulder, no sign of swelling or bruising, if you’d had to guess, you would’ve guessed nothing was wrong with it.

“Aitana, did you really hurt your shoulder?”

“No — I mean yes! I did.” Aitana panicked, her cheeks reddening.

“Aitana…”

“No I didn’t. I just wanted to see you.” Aitana admitted, looking down at the floor.

“You do realise you could just ask me on a date?”

“Would you say yes?”

“Of course I would. Now, do you have anything to ask me?” You asked, a sparkle of hope in your eyes.

“Will you like to go on a date with me?”

“No…” you said, Aitana’s face dropping. “I’d love to go on a date with you.”

[itsa-me-lily]

I have a brain worm that is very indulgent and self inserty

Please note I get my COD knowledge from here and AO3 and no I don’t want to change that lol

Please note note that upon thinking about it there’s a bit of influence from @bi-writes mail order bride

Anyway imagine that the military creates this program to boost moral for soldiers who don’t have families, by essentially hiring people to become their spouse! Does it have flaws and leaves a huge window for exploitation and abuse, it’s the military are we surprised? But we’re not gonna talk about that…

So there’s this program and Laswell and/or Price are like Simon we are worried about how fucking alone you are when you’re not deployed you’re enrolling in this so help us god. Either you’re picking someone or we’re picking for you. And I can’t decide if Simon just picks someone at random without looking at the files or he picks you because you seem like least needy and intrusive. The list of hobbies you have takes up nearly half a page, you have to be too busy to bother him.

Either way, you’re the one that’s picked to be the new Mrs. Riley, much to your surprise. (You were only doing this as moral support for your friend who didn’t want to sign up alone. You didn’t think you’d be picked.) Cut to the day you’re moving into the programs cookie cutter house and you’re glaring at Simon because how dare he imply your guinea pigs are anything less than perfect and angelic, and Simon is just wondering why he has to live with these fucking weird looking rats now

Edit;

I'm adding some more to this idea so I've made a list! I can be good at lists...Also should I add a continue reading cut to these?

[papaya-twinks]

a birthday extra - l.n 🎈

Warnings: Smut, 18+, swearing, threesome, oral (m-receiving), blowjob

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader x Carlos Sainz Jr

The idea to bring Carlos into the bedroom on Lando’s special day was probably one of the best ideas you’d had. And you could tell your boyfriend was excited - less at the prospect of having to share you, more the fact that he had someone who in his worsts, he had the ‘smallest crush’ on.

“I mean, just to clarify, she’s still my girl,” Lando said, walking beside Carlos as the Spaniard rolled his eyes. “No shit, mate, you’ve mentioned a few times,” he sighed as Lando held your hand, watching you walk in front of him.

“What? No, I haven’t even mentioned it,” Lando mumbled, lying clearly, as you opened the door. They’d both taken you to a restaurant, had you all fed and nice, ready for them, as you opened the door, immediately pulled into Lando’s arms as the door shut.

“Pair of rabbits,” Carlos laughed, watching Lando’s tongue immediately slip into your mouth, his hands all over you, fiddling with the zipper of your dress. “Fuck,” Lando groaned, the zipper pulling off into his hand, ripped from the dress. “You’re so clumsy,” you giggled, walking to the bedroom upstairs as Carlos followed.

Lando positioned you how he wanted - on your back, your head over the edge of the bed, and legs spread apart, the dress now with a big rip down the back, from where Lando had forcefully removed it, now the zip was broken.

“Mmm,” you hummed, the feeling of the pad of Lando’s finger on your core making you moan slightly. Your cunt ached as he pulled his fingers away, a whine in your lips. “Didn’t even wear panties,” he tsked, “she’s a slut, isn’t she, Carlos?”.

The Spaniard nodded, leaning down to press a kiss to your jaw, unbuckling his own belt as Lando slid his fingers into your core, easily with the help of your heat. “Oh, fuck,” you moaned, back arching, your nose brushing Carlos’ thigh in the process.

“Gonna keep still, okay?” Lando said, “and rmember, if you want to stop, kick me or somethin’,” Lando said, watching as Carlos pulled his trousers down, his cock springing hard and thick. It was the slightest bit shorter than Lando’s, but thicker - harder to fit into your mouth, basically.

“Open,” Carlos said, his hand in your cheek as you opened your mouth, gasped at the feeling of his tip on your tongue, heavy and throbbing, his dick twitching at the feeling. “Fuck,” he groaned, pushing in, the bulge in your throat growing as his dick stretched through your mouth.

“She’s got a good mouth, no?” Lando smirked, pushing his own tip against your clit, circling your bundle of nerves teasingly, running through your folds, collecting your juices on his head. “Fuckin’ perfect,” Carlos groaned, “gotta say, I’m f-fucking jealous,” he panted, bottoming out in your throat.

At the same time, Lando had bottomed out in your cunt, leaning forward to press a kiss to your jaw. You gasped for breath as Carlos pulled out, his finger wiping a line of salvia from your lips, his head resting on your shoulder, Lando’s dick twitching inside of you.

“Look at her,” Lando smirked, watching as Carlos pushed back into your throat, slowly moving in and out, “so fuckin’ full of us, isn’t she?”. Carlos groaned, humming as he felt himself bulging in your throat, his hand coming to rest on your neck, feeling how his cock slid onto your tongue.

“I’m gonna fuckin’ cum,” Lando groaned, his hands resting on either side of your hips, Carlos’ hand on your neck and the other on your shoulder. “Feels more like it’s her birthday,” Lando snickered, his hips picking up pace, his hands moving to push your knees back, out of his way as his hips snapped against you.

You could feel Carlos speeding up too as you gagged, your orgasm hitting, and another building up just as quickly, as Lando’s thrusts became sloppier, his hands resting on your hips, Carlos pushing your hair out your face, your eyes rolling as you came again, just before Lando pushed himself all the way into you, bottoming out as he came, his cum coating your thighs.

You moaned against Carlos, gasping as he pulled out, his cock hanging over your head as his seed spilled onto your cheek and jaw, your cheeks flushed red, pupils dilated, like you were drunk on the feeling of their cocks.

Both men were silent for a few seconds, watching as you regained breath, your chest moving up and down rapidly. “We gotta do that again sometime,” Carlos groaned as Lando shrugged. “Maybe,” he said, “but, like, she is my girl and-,”.

“I know!”.

[nezuscribe]

As the anon who sent that gossip blurb I am gnawing on the bars of my enclosure.

A woman’s reputation is her worth in the upper echelons and to all outside observers Gojo didn’t just marry down, he married the scum at the bottom of the barrel.

The petty mind games of politics aren’t just at his front door, they’re creeping through the halls of the estate.

He’s been a piece on the board but he’s never actually had to pay attention, the thing between his legs (his dick and his war horse) meant he had an advantage, but now he’s married, now the verbal cat fights of the women and the elderly are right up in his face!

What’s it like in his head? Genuinely. Cause so far he seems quite naive to the interpersonal manipulations and soft power approach of “high society” was he just doing his own thing until his mother said “you WILL be married by the turn of the season!” Cause if it is, than oh boy, he’s gonna have some crises.

this!!

i loved how you phrase his dick and his war horse because to gojo, the gossip that surrounds him has always been in his favor. people either swooned over him or talked about his bravery, something far different from the gossip that surrounds reader.

and like mentioned before, on paper reader should be this high-esteemed lady of the upper echelon. she is her father's daughter after all, and he's near in ranks with the gojo family, but because of her mother true heritage, she might as well be a peasant they found on the street.

so arranged!gojo didn't really see this sort of gossip coming. sure he knew about her history but i always imagine that he was raised to treat people with respect (also because his mom always had a soft spot for reader), so when he finds out people are talking not only outside of his home but in it ?? he's thrown for a loop

and the funny thing is reader is so jaded about it that she doesn't even notice it. he feels the stares and hears the whispers but reader has gotten so good at being in her own world that she's able to ignore it

so when he enters back into high society with not only this woman that everybody else seems to despise, but he actually is beginning to care for her, it's almost like he's experiencing what reader first experienced when she was a kid and had to grow up fast to realize that everybody was out for her

[bigification]

Pretty Eyes

"You've got pretty eyes, you know that." Your boyfriend, Lenny, tells you.

"You think so?" You reply, no one's ever complimented your eyes before.

"Yeah, they're perfect windows into your soul." He smiles as he looks into your deep brown eyes.

You blush in response, trying to hide how much the compliment affected you.

"I think the rest could do with some work, though." Lenny adds.

Your smile drops instantly. Why would he say that? Is he messing with you? What does he mean by that?

"What.." you ask, hoping he starts laughing and says it was a joke. But his face remains serious.

"First let's work on that belly." Lenny says while pulling up your shirt, revealing a soft pad of fat on your stomach.

By now you're freaking out. He's gone way too far for it to be a joke, why is he being so mean? And what does he mean working on your belly? You want to push him away and hide your stomach but you feel frozen, completely incapable of moving or talking back.

Lenny plants his hand on your stomach, it feels warm. He pushes firmly into your body, knocking you back a bit.

"That's better." He says with a charming smile.

You look down in a mix of happiness and horror, seeing your belly entirely disappear. In its place is a perfectly chiselled six pack with a sharp V line leading down to your crotch. But before you can even react, Lenny has moved on.

"Hmmm." He ponders to himself. "That chest needs fixing too."

He cups your soft chest with both his hands and starts to rub. You hate to admit it, but it feels great. So good in fact, you almost forget that you're mad at him. He keeps rubbing, sculpting your pecs into the perfect shape. You notice them grow and grow, but with muscle rather than fat. They begin to push out from your body, creating a shelf over your six pack. You even feel your nipples growing as they slowly drift to the underside of your juicy pecs. By the time Lenny pulls away, you're left with two massive pecs that are threatening to burst out of your tiny shirt at any moment.

"I think I'm gonna need to broaden your shoulders to match your expansive chest." He states as if you have a say in it.

His hands grip tightly onto your shoulders and begin to pull them outward. Each pull broadens your shoulders like they're made of putty, eventually ripping right through your shirt. The torn fabric falls to the ground, unveiling your muscly physique and revealing a tattoo sprawled across one of your pecs.

Lenny continues to pull your shoulders until they're wider than your chest, giving you a masculine V shaped torso. And while he's at it, he massages your traps and causes them to triple in size, forming two solid humps of muscle on either side of your neck.

"It's looking good, but not down until we finish your back." He says as he circles behind you.

You feel his warm hands dig into your back, almost like a professional massage. Unbeknownst to you, though, he is creating waves of muscle up and down your back.

"We're almost done with your upper body, but those arms look pathetic compared to that body." Lenny swings back around in front of you. "I have an idea to fix it." He says with a devilish smile.

He grabs your right hand and sticks your thumb into his mouth. He starts to blow, and like a balloon your arm starts to inflate. Your bicep inflates to the size of an American football as veins start to surface, adding to the muscly look. Your forearm follows suit while a black tattoo forms over it. And finally your delicate hand grows into a thick calloused manly mitt. He then repeats the process on your left arm, creating a star tattoo on your shoulder and another black tattoo on your forearm.

"That completes the upper body, but those scrawny legs just won't do anymore." Lenny states as he looks at your severely top heavy body. And you couldn't agree more as your puny legs are struggling to hold up your hulking upper body.

"First let's get you some manly attire." Lenny snaps, and suddenly your short shorts are replaced by a rugged pair of jeans with a brown belt. The belt doesn't seem to be doing much though, as the pants are still much too big for you. That won't be a problem for long.

"Now let's get you an ass to be proud of." He chuckles to himself before wrapping his arms around you and cupping each of his hands on one of your cheeks. He squeezes your flat ass, pumping it up with each squeeze. You feel the shelf form behind you as your pants get tighter and tighter until they feel like they're about to explode. Lenny finally lets go, making your cheeks bounce as they fall into place.

"Now that I see it, that bulge is basically non existent. Let's fix that." Lenny grabs your crotch and pulls up, aggressively handling your cock and balls. A visceral erotic sensation shoots up your muscular body as he handles your meat. Though you can't help but notice a pressure rising in your pants. Your now tennis ball sized testies are being squished between your legs and your thickening cock is struggling to tuck inside your pant leg. You let out a moan, the first noise you've been able to make and it shocks you how deep your voice comes out. You almost don't recognize it. Though that's the least of your concerns as Lenny finishes his final touches to your crotch. An unmistakable outline of your cock is permanently etched into a bulge in your pants, 10 inches long and as thick as a pop can. No pants you could ever wear will hide that monster from the world.

"You're coming along perfectly, but you're not done yet." Lenny says as he kneels down. "Time to fix these chicken legs."

He grabs your legs, slowly sliding his hands down your pant leg. Your thighs inflate as his hands glide by, making them double in size with muscle and fat. They're so thick that they permanently rub together, even when you try to spread your legs. If your balls weren't squished before, they sure are now. His hands then glide down your calves, leaving them thicker than your thighs used to be.

"Hmmm, these runners won't do. It just doesn't suit you. Some cowboy boots would suit your style much better." He snaps again and your brand new running shoes are gone, replaced by some massive size 20 cowboy boots with the spurs and all.

Lenny steps back and takes a moment to admire his work. "You're lookin good, but there are some details I need to get right before I work on your face."

He starts brushing his hands across different parts of your body. First across your chest, growing thick brown hairs all over your pecs. Then a light dusting over your stomach, arms, and back. Finally you feel an itchy sensation take over your legs as a forest of brown hair engulfs the lower half of your body.

He yet again takes a step back to get a good look at you. "Oh right! I almost forgot to fix your height, 5"8 just isn't gonna cut it."

He first grabs your legs and stretches them by 3 inches, temporarily making you look out of proportion. But he quickly fixes it by lifting up your shoulders, causing your torso to stretch 5 inches. This leaves you at an intimidating 6"4, making you tower over your boyfriend. The longer body really makes you look more manly, and gives more room to show off that six pack.

"And now there's nothing but your face. Don't get me wrong, your face is pretty, but it just doesn't match the rest of your body. So we're gonna have to change it."

Lenny starts by squaring off your jaw and making it sharper, accentuating your chiselled features. He then shaves your head, leaving a short buzz cut in place of your lucious locks.

"Let's give you some more manly features while we're at it."

He pulls out your browline, giving you a simpler and manlier look. Then he thickens your nose, complimenting your square jaw. And he pushed in your cheeks, making you look more mature. Speaking of mature, Lenny has much older plans for you. He starts by receding your hairline slightly, not enough to make you look like your balding but just enough to make you look mature. He massages your skin, forming wrinkles around your forehead, mouth, and eyes, though he makes sure not to touch those beautiful eyes if your. And finally he rubs his hands across your jaw and upper lip, leaving behind a somewhat patchy beard and moustache on your face.

"Now to deal with that pesky brain of yours." Lenny says as he rubs his thumbs over your temples. Suddenly it's getting hard for you to think. What was your name again? What do you do for work? What are your hobbies? You can't seem to remember anything, not even the grueling transformation that your body just went through.

"That should do it." Lenny smiles as he pulls his hands away from your head.

Ahh that's better, so much easier to think. You remember that your name is Bruce and you're a 43 year old farmer.

"What are you looking at son?" You ask Lenny in a deep southern accent.

"You're eyes, they're very pretty you know." He responds.

"You goin make me blush boy." You flash a rare smile as you pull Lenny in for a kiss.

[drdemonprince]

am i being stupid by refusing to invest any of my money? i just don’t find it ethical (lots of people have 0 idea what theyre actually invested in with typical low risk investments and it would actually drive me nuts to have to investigate every single thing thats on there) and i also have zero faith in the stability of the economy or the world i just literally don’t trust like that. and fear that with climate change i’m not going to have a traditional future or retirement anyway. is this incredibly stupid i’m being so genuine because i dont know

I think your ethical concerns are totally reasonable. Any investment in the stock market is pretty inherently fraught, even if you choose index funds that exclude the especially bad stocks of like firearms/military contractors/etc. Even something like a bond can be easily said to be bad, because it's a loan to the government, and most money market or high yield savings are not untainted either, because most banks themselves invest in fucked up shit like oil pipelines. The one avenue I think that would be mostly okay is a high yield savings account for a credit union, or a bank that you've researched and know doesn't invest in that kind of shady shit. I have also argued previously that it's not wrong to invest in an apartment or house -- as long as you're not landlording, vulnerable people having more secure housing and the ability to share that housing with others in their community is good and understandable. So on balance, I get where you are coming from, though I think having a financial safety net makes people less likely to have to take on unethical jobs and makes them less vulnerable to financial abuse and exploitation, which has merit ethically.

I tend to see the doomerism question a bit differently. If the US empire falls or the economy collapses, you'll either have much bigger problems than your 401k bottoming out (problems like the complete obliteration of the supply chain), OR we will be living in a financial paradigm so dramatically different and more just that you wont MIND that you dont have that money anymore. Whereas if the US economy continues to exist, you're gonna be fucked if you dont have a retirement to fall back on, so why make yourself needlessly more vulnerable by not saving? The ethical rub with this, though, is that it creates the moral hazard of rooting for the US empire and economy to never fall, and that rendering you more conservative... which is a possibility, but like, as i said, i think it's possible to have some money saved for a rainy day under capitalism while still praying for capitalism's downfall. if anything, being more financially independent makes it EASIER for me to risk unemployment & etc by doing more radical political actions and speaking my mind and saying no to things. but ymmv

[help-help-i-need-an-adult]

She has her good moments. Then she has her terrible ones.

Like, I haven’t had this confirmed (because she doesn’t talk about politics and won’t discuss who she voted for ever) but I’m 99% sure she’s a trumper. I once asked if she had voted for Reagan and her response was something like “a person’s vote is a private thing and I will not discuss who I voted for.” And I was like “grandma, his presidency was over before I was even born. Pretty sure you could tell me at this point.” And just, nope.

I’m gonna have to tell her I can’t help with her book at all anymore because if spicy books become illegal (which is in their plan) then it won’t be legal to write or promote them either. And, like, I’m all for being able to write or read whatever you want, but I’ve got different hills to die on.

So yeah. Grandma has her pro’s and con’s.

Please remember your favorite writers are attention whores with a praise kink, they need validation to survive. Feed them comments and reblogs to save a life.

[zvezda-writer]

Ex-boyfriend!Simon x Sex Worker!Reader

How big was your surprise when the door of your client's apartment opened and there was Simon, your ex.

Well, yes, it has been around ten years since you saw each other and he definitely had a glow up from the gaunt, funny boy you met back in the shitty neighborhood you two lived in Manchester. Same neighborhood, same type of family, same struggles growing up. You two had everything in common and could've ended up getting married and living in a one bedroom apartment in the same old neighborhood.

But he left.

Without goodbye, without explaining, he just left. You found out by his brother that he had joined the military. You were devastated, to say the least.

You stayed behind, having to take care of your ill mother since your father was a drunk bastard. Until he died when you were nineteen, killed during a bar fight. With the employment rate near to zero in the area you lived in, your solutions were either prostitution or drug dealing, and you refused to be involved with drugs.

That's how you ended up in the sex business. The money was good and you and your mother moved to London, and you started getting richer clients. That's how you ended up there, face to face with the man who broke your heart when you were only sixteen.

You two stared at each other in dead silence for a couple of seconds until you decided that he probably didn't even remember you, so you just acted normal, like you didn't remember him too. The money was too good to reject it.

–You're the one who called me, handsome?

You asked, your voice sickly sweet. He didn't answer, of course. At least not with words.

Without saying anything, he cupped your face with his big, callused hands, attacking your lips with his with deep, burning passion, the taste of his lips heavy with a mix of whiskey and tobacco. The taste had changed, but the way he kissed you, like a starved man, was the very same since you were both teenagers.

But, oh, he remembered you. More than you could've expected. And the moment he saw you standing right in front of the door, the feelings he had butried so deep came back to life in a explosion, leaving him blind with passion and longing.

After a moment he finally let go of your lips, pulling away just enough to get some air, his hands never leaving your face as he whispered in a raspy, rough voice who almost made you moan.

–Can't belive you're bloody real... Ten years, bunny. It's been fucking ten years.

And your heart stopped. He remembered. And hearing him call you the petname he had used with you so many times in the past made your heart twist in knots, eyes burning with tears that you refused to let fall. Your makeup was too expensive for it.

–I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry for not saying goodbye.

He murmured, kissing you again and again as he pulled you inside, shutting the door close without letting go of you.

Each kiss, each touch, everything about him and his presence was an explosion of feelings and sensations you couldn't describe, ecstasy cursing through your veins at each pump of your heart, lungs suffocating with the smell of his cologne at each uneven breathing, brain melting with every sweet word that left his mouth, body shuddering with every thrust of his divine sculpted dick.

–I'm never letting you go again, bunny...–another thrust –Gonna marry you...–another thrust –Gonna fill you up and make you a mommy, yeah?

All you could do was nod, your brain barely registering his words as he overwhelmed you with pleasure and love, and even if what he said wasn't true, it didn't matter at the moment. At that moment, you were both the old Y/N and Simon again, hiding inside his father's old truck at night to have a moment alone.

Your mind turned into a puddle as an overwhelming, destructive orgasm hit her, your warm and soaked cunt clenching and throbbing around his cock, and after a few more thrusts he made his words come true, filling you up to the brim.

Sure, at the moment you didn't actually believe he would marry you and take care of you, but then six months later you found yourself sitting on a comfortable armchair, hand resting on top of your round belly as you watched the most handsome man in the world build your daughter's crib in her pink room, under your inspection of course. Guess he took his promises way too seriously because after the first encounter in two months you were married and moving to a beautiful house in a nice, calm neighborhood, and everyday he made sure to remind you that you didn't have to lift a finger, he was your man, he's supposed to take care of you, right?