#and if you have your own ideas; same thing!

[mminghaos]

best friend seungcheol whom you have a crush on, but never told him. he doesn't know it either and y'all just bicker all the time as bsf, one day all of it changes when you finally say you found a match on some dating app. he realises it and bam! hot and heavy shit go down.

bitter crush , choi seungcheol x f!reader

SYPNOSIS: your bestfriend doesn’t know you’ve had a crush on him for years, but when you mention matching with someone on a dating app, everything changes.

WARNINGS: smut, fingering, kissing, teasing, mingyu as the failed date lmfao

requests are open, do send some in!!

you’ve been friends with seungcheol since high school, watching each other grow up — first jobs, first kisses, and everything in between, sticking together through the highs and lows. your friendship is built on bickering and teasing each other like it’s second nature. but now, the bickering feels different.

“i matched with someone on that app i told you about,” you say, placing your coffee down on the wooden table of the café you and seungcheol are sitting at.

you’d decided to give a dating app a shot, hoping it would help you take your mind off seungcheol. maybe meeting someone new will help you move on, or at least distract you from the constant thoughts about him. but so far, it’s just more of the same — swiping, chatting, but none of its ever seemed to match the energy you share with him. you might as well move on, since seungcheol has is own hookups and girlfriends, and none of them will ever be you. its frustrating, the way this burning crush for him is always shimmering beneath the surface, gnawing at you. this is going to be the death of you — that’s what you always tell yourself.

“so you’re telling me you’re out here swiping on strangers?” he responds, his voice laced with something you can’t quite place. “what happened to the whole ‘not needing anyone’ thing?”

“it changed.”

“really? that’s weird.” he says, his eyes never leaving you. “thought you were too busy to deal with anyone new.”

you roll your eyes, trying to brush it off. “yeah, well, apparently im not as busy as i thought.”

you’ve never been the type to casually date or get involved with someone just for the sake of it. but lately, things feel different. seungcheol’s always been there — constant, reliable, and annoyingly perfect in his own way — and it’s hard to ignore how your thoughts always circle back to him, no matter how many times you try to push them away. you’ve never said it out loud, never let him in on the truth of how much he’s been occupying your mind, and the idea of dating someone else? it almost feels like a joke. you’re not really here for some random guy who doesn’t know you like he does. but the more you try to distract yourself, the more you realize how little it helps. no matter how many matches you get, no conversation ever seems to compare to the effortless back and forth you share with seungcheol. it’s like you’re chasing something that doesn’t quite exist, and each swipe only makes you feel more frustrated. but you can’t exactly admit that, not to him, not to anyone. so you keep trying, hoping maybe this time will be different, even though you know deep down it won’t be.

“so, who’s this guy?”

you shrug, trying to keep your voice steady. “kim mingyu. he’s nice. we’ve met a few times before, actually — works at that bar down the street.”

seungcheol leans back in his chair, his arms crossed as he watched you. he clears his throat. “just don’t pick some random guy who doesn’t get you, alright?”

“what, are you jealous or something?”

“no.”

the date with mingyu went well. you two got along really great — there was no shortage of conversation, and the chemistry was comfortable. you both enjoyed the meal and found common ground in ways that made the evening feel lighthearted and easy. it was nice, actually, to just relax and enjoy someone’s company without any pressure.

even if the date was good, you and mingyu both agreed that you should just be friends, neither of you feeling the sparks you were hoping for.

you walk into your apartment, slipping off your shoes and placing your keys under the mat. its quiet, the only sound being the soft hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen. you head towards the living room, where seungcheol is sprawled on your couch, sorting through the groceries he offered to pick up for you earlier this week.

“you’re back early,” he says, glancing up with a smirk. “thought you were gonna be out all night with your… date.”

you roll your eyes, not really in the mood to talk about it. “it was fine,” you reply, shrugging as you drop your purse on the counter. “nothing special.”

seungcheol raises an eyebrow, clearly not convinced. “really?”

you let out a breath, trying to sound casual. “yeah, well, turns out i’m not as interested as i thought.”

he tilts his head, looking at you like he’s trying to figure you out. “what do you mean?”

you hesitate, leaning against the kitchen counter, fingers tapping against the countertop. “we got along, i guess. but we just decided to be friends.”

“huh.” seungcheol shrugs, clearly unconcerned, though there’s something in the way he watches you that makes you pause. “so you’re saying you don’t feel any connection with him at all?”

you shift, rubbing the back of your neck. “it’s just… not there. but whatever. i’m fine.”

“you sure?” seungcheol presses, his voice dropping an octave, and you can’t help but notice how close he’s sitting now. “because i’m sure someone else would love the chance to—”

“ugh, please.” you cut him off, trying to brush it off. “i don’t need some random guy to be interested.”

he smirks, clearly not buying it. “really? sounds like you do.”

you bite your lip, trying to hold onto your patience, but it’s slipping through your fingers. you know he’s teasing, and usually, you’d laugh it off, but tonight feels different. there’s a tension in the air that you can’t ignore, something that’s been building for years. frustration bubbles up inside you, and before you can stop yourself, the words spill out.

“cheol, i like you, okay?” you blurt out, your voice trembling slightly, surprised by how easily it all comes rushing out.

he pauses, his eyes narrowing slightly as he processes your words. there’s a moment of silence, and you feel like you’re about to suffocate under the weight of it. his gaze flickers to your face, then down to your hands, then back to your eyes, as if trying to figure out what’s really going on.

“wait,” he says slowly, his tone less playful and more cautious now. “you’re not drunk, are you? had drinks or something when you were out?”

you quickly shake your head, trying to steady your breath. “no, i’m not drunk. i just—” but the words feel clumsy on your tongue, and suddenly, you’re unsure of how to take them back.

“i shouldn’t have said that,” you mutter, your cheeks burning with embarrassment. “this was stupid, i’m sorry. i don’t even know why i—”

you start rambling, trying to downplay the confession that’s just slipped out. each word feels like it’s digging you deeper, and you just want to take it all back. “i mean, i don’t even know what i was thinking—this is—god, i’m so—”

but before you can finish, seungcheol pushes himself off the couch and walks towards you, stopping just a few inches away. his eyes still lock on yours. the silence stretches, and you feel your heart race, your breath catching in your throat. you want to say something, to apologize again, but all the words are caught in your chest.

“stop,” he says softly, his voice low, but there’s an intensity in it that you can’t ignore.

you open your mouth, wanting to explain, to take back the awkward confession, but the words jumble in your mind. “it’s just… i didn’t want to make it weird, and now i’ve probably ruined everything—”

seungcheol doesn’t say anything, just watches you with an unreadable look in his eyes, waiting for you to stop rambling. you go on anyway, trying to explain yourself, even though you can feel yourself getting more flustered with each passing second.

before you can continue, he steps forward, his hand gently cupping your face, cutting off your words. you freeze, eyes wide, but before you can process anything, his lips crash onto yours, effectively silencing you.

the kiss is deep and urgent, like he’s been holding back too. your brain barely registers what’s happening as your hands instinctively move to his chest, but the tension that had been building between you both for so long snaps. everything goes quiet in your mind, and for the first time tonight, all the chaos and nerves fall away, replaced by the heat of his kiss.

the kiss lingers for a moment, intense and raw, as if neither of you wants to pull away. your breath mingles with his, the world around you blurring until there’s only the feeling of him so close, so real. your heart pounds in your chest, each beat echoing in your ears, and you can feel the tension in his body as he holds you just a bit tighter, as if he’s afraid you might slip away.

when he finally pulls back, you’re left breathless, your forehead resting against his as you both try to catch your breath. his hands are still on you, one gently holding your face, the other resting on your hip, grounding you.

“you really don’t make things easy, do you?” he murmurs, his voice a little hoarse, the teasing edge back in his tone, but it’s softer now, more affectionate.

you don’t trust yourself to speak right away. all the words that had been stuck in your chest before are now lost, replaced by the overwhelming feeling of him so close, his touch still lingering on your skin. instead, you look up at him, meeting his eyes, trying to make sense of everything, but before you can say anything, he smiles slightly, a genuine, soft expression.

“i didn’t realise how much i liked you until you told me about that guy,” he admits, brushing his thumb over your cheek gently. “i was too stupid to notice.”

you dont get to reply because his hand moves down your back, pulling you closer, your chest pressed against his. the room feels warmer now, charged with something you can't ignore. your hands find their way to his chest, pushing lightly at first, unsure if you should pull away or let it happen. but he doesn't give you that chance.

his lips return to yours, but this time, there's more urgency in it, his kiss deepening as his tongue brushes against yours. you let out a soft sigh, the tension that's been building between you two for what feels like forever finally snapping. he groans, his hand moving to your neck, holding you in place as he deepens the kiss further. the heat between you both grows, and you can feel every inch of him pressing against you, making your pulse quicken.

seungcheol's voice is low, almost a whisper as he takes a step back, hands resting on your waist, grounding you both. "do you want to keep going?" he asks.

you nod, your heart racing, but your mind is clear. “yes.”

he doesn't say anything more, just nods and gently takes your hand, leading you through the apartment. when you get to your room, he lays you down on the bed gently, his hands never leaving you.

seungcheol hovers over you, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation, any sign that you’re unsure. you can feel his body close to yours, the warmth radiating off him. “are you sure?”

“yes, cheol.” you let out a light laugh, pulling him closer. “im sure.”

his lips trail down your jaw, each kiss softer than the last before he moves to your neck, his teeth grazing slightly over the skin. you let out a soft sigh once he pulls back after reaching where your shirt starts. before he can say anything, you’re reaching for the hem of your shirt, pulling the fabric over your head.

seungcheol takes a moment, his gaze lingering on you before meeting your eyes again.

“you’re so beautiful,” he says, unclasping your bra and slipping it off. “god.”

his hands find their way to your pants as he trails kisses down your chest, each one growing more desperate as his lips move lower. the warmth of his breath against your skin sends a shiver through you, and you can feel your heart race with every gentle press of his lips.

eventually, he pulls your pants off, discarding them somewhere on the floor behind him. “please.” you breathe out

“hmm?” he responds, his fingers slipping just under the band of your panties. “what do you want, baby?”

“need you inside me, please.”

he glances down at you, lips twitching up into a smirk. “patience.”

“no, no, no— cheol, please—” you whimper out.

“don’t worry, you’ll get what you want.” he cuts you off, pressing a light kiss to your collarbone.

when he finally stops teasing you and pulls your panties down, tossing them god knows where, you’re already a mess underneath him. every nerve in your body is on edge, anticipation building as he slides two fingers through your folds. “fuck, you’re soaking wet for me, baby.” a low groan escapes his lips, his restraint wavering as he fights to hold himself back.

he slowly pushes one finger into your pussy, giving you a moment to relax before he adds another and starts to curl them into all the right places.

“cheol!” your head falls back against the pillow, hand going to grab his wrist for some sort of stability.

“yeah, you like that?”

you’re already so close — just from the way his fingers move inside you, hitting every spot that sends sparks shooting througu your body.

you nod over and over again, hips rising to match the rhythm of his movements. “don’t stop— fuck— please, im so close.” 

your breath hitches, and you clutch at his arm, desperate for grounding as the sensations overwhelm you. every stroke of his fingers feels like its pulling you closer to the brink, and the tension in your body winds tighter with each passing second. “please—” the word slips out as a whisper, barely audible. your legs start to shake, the pleasure coursing through you almost too much to bear.

before you can even warn seungcheol, you’re coming undone all over his fingers, hips bucking up at the same time.

“god, thats so hot.” he mutters, but you’re too out of it to know if its to you or himself.

"you alright?" seungcheol asks softly, his hand resting on your hip as he looks down at you with concern. his touch is gentle, almost hesitant, as if he's checking for any sign of discomfort.

you nod, your breath still ragged, a soft smile tugging at your lips. "yeah, i'm good. just... didn't expect that." your voice is breathy, the lingering effects of the moment still making your body tingle.

seungcheol smirks, clearly pleased with the reaction. "you sure you're not too overwhelmed?" he teases, his hand moving to brush a strand of hair out of your face.

you laugh softly, the sound shaky but genuine. "im fine" you reply, looking up at him with a playful glint in your eye. "was that your way of saying you like me too?"

“it was.” he smirks, eyes locking onto yours. “think you can go for one more round?”

he really is going to be the death of you.

[stevishabitat]

In some cases people took things like bread or pies to a communal oven to bake.

You know that old patty cake rhyme, where you "mark it with a B"? That's because you're taking your cake to the neighborhood ovens to bake with all the neighbours and you mark it with a letter or design so you know it's yours.

You might have a small stove or fire pit in your home for heating water (depending on the type of dwelling), but a baking oven wasn't something everyone would have.

So you'd go to the communal kitchen and prep foods for the week. Some bread, some grab & go hand pies, a big pot of porridge that you'd eat hot today and cold tomorrow (or nine days old as another old rhyme indicates).

Or, you'd just buy pre-made foods as needed - often sold from these same communal kitchens/bakeries.

Kind of like going to a laundromat where you have the option to either stay and wash your own laundry for a small fee, or drop it off and pick it up later for a larger fee. (which was ALSO absolutely a thing in many times and places historically - laundry services aren't older than dirt, but they're pretty old)

Historically, if you're living in a tenement situation, there may either be a communal kitchen for tenants to use, or the landlord would provide a cook (often his wife, daughter or other female relative, or hire one in if he's wealthy enough) who would prepare meals either eaten communally or picked up and taken to your room to eat, which would be included in your rent (room and board - board meaning meals on the dining board/dining table).

The way people have gotten and prepared food throughout different places and times historically is far more varied than we often credit it.

The situation of one woman in each household cooking three meals a day at home for just her immediate family is far more limited than people often realize. And there's a certain level of affluence and independence that it implies that just didn't exist in most times and places and levels of society.

Even if you think about where an idealized version of it exists in, say "Little House on the Prairie".... Homesteaders that lived isolated in a small nuclear family and had to be extraordinarily self-reliant. Even there, it was clear that families that did this were outliers and it was HARD. Even people in the pioneer towns were more interdependent than the people who were way out there.

The other place you think of when it comes to the idea of one person preparing three meals a day in the home for only a nuclear family is post-WW2 USA. And for the most part that concept is entirely artificial.

It was constructed to try to make sense of a society coming off the Depression and wars and the various changes and upheavals of all of that. And not only were just a small percentage of households able to even attempt it, but it was incredibly unhealthy for a large number who tried. It was a manufactured ideal that was generally unobtainable and unsustainable.

Trying to replicate that level of self-reliance as some kind of ideal in modern situations is just bonkers if you ask me.

For those who have overactive guilt complexes like me…

[puck-luck]

plz feed us a little quinn blurb i need him so bad

mattias anon and i were talking about quinn's hand after seeing this pic of the injury the other day:

and i said "how is he meant to finger you in these conditions" and she replied "good thing he has a mouth!" so here is a munch!quinn thought :)

Quinn's eyes are dark as they stare up at you, cataloguing each contortion of your expression. His eyes seem to glint with pride each time his tongue draws a moan from you, alternating between your clit and your entrance.

He'll tease you one minute, then overwhelm you the next. He'll trace his tongue along the rim of your hole before dipping inside, licking into you as far as he can before pulling away. He'll circle his lips around your clit and suck harshly until you're writhing beneath him, latching onto the bundle of nerves the same way he does with your nipples.

Quinn has never been one to complain about having something in his mouth– not when that something is as pretty and as tasty and as vocal as you.

"Does it feel good, baby?" Quinn will ask knowingly, pulling away to give you a moment of reprieve before diving back in.

"Mhm," you hum, high in the back of your throat. You're so pent up from his tongue that yours feels too twisted to form words.

"So sweet," Quinn murmurs, licking a stripe up your cunt with the flat of his tongue. Then, he peppers kisses all over your inner thighs, finally returning to your core to toy with your clit. The tip of his tongue flicks over it rapidly, sending shockwaves through your system.

Quinn's gaze seems to dance with laughter when you arch off the bed and moan, hands flying to his hair and fisting the strands. His eyelids flutter when you pull at the mess of dark waves atop his head, the vibrations from his own moan traveling up your spine.

"Gonna come from just my mouth, baby?" Quinn asks. Sounding extra pitiful, he adds, "It's too bad I can't fuck you with my fingers. I know how you love being full." His face breaks into a smile, smug as he dives back in and prods at your hole. He nudges your clit with his nose, making sure to catch your reaction.

You don't bring up that his other hand works just fine, and he could use that instead, because you're caught up in the way your stomach coils. His tongue pushes past your entrance and pets your walls, and his nose bumps your clit again, and again, and again. Your hips are moving mindlessly, grinding against his face as you chase your orgasm, and Quinn simply looks up at you though his eyelashes. He never enjoys himself quite as much as he does when you use him to find your own climax.

ps! i have a few beaquinn ideas and quinn x reader ideas that i've been playing with in my mind, but i'm trying to finish stg10 at the moment. so those will come one day. i want to be better about posting more often!! i feel like i am not... but that's allowed. just keep letting me know what y'all want to read and i'll add it to the list :)

[endursent]

Hi Ma’am! I’ve recently come across your “my partner turned into a cat” series and it’s wonderful. I was wondering if I could request something similar where reader turns into their partner’s favourite animal? Preferably with Kaveh, Neuvi, and Dottore (if you write for him). If not, that’s all good. Have a nice day!

【 content; established relationship , humour , gn!reader , temporarily turned animal (reader) 】

【 characters; il dottore, kaveh , neuvillette 】

【 note; i haven't actually written for dottore before strangely enough considering how much i love him, so it might take a while for me to get his personality and mannerisms down... thank you for the ask! 】

【 word count; 1.454 | masterlist 】

Il Dottore;

Never had you considered what his “favourite animal” is, mostly because you’re convinced Dottore doesn’t have a “favourite” anything—his interests are too unpredictable and subject to change at any moment. 

  Though you should have seen it coming that one day, his experimentation would strike you—thankfully you’re not dead, you’re luckier than some assistants that have been zapped a time or two and carried out in body bags. However…

  Why are you a fat little platypus, and why does he seem so excited about it?

  You look absolutely ridiculous, you imagine—and feel, having four legs and a beak is peak body horror that is unfortunately eating at your brain right now. And yet, Dottore picks you up like one would a cat and dangles you in front of him with both an excited and thoughtful expression. “How unexpected—and interesting. I made little change to the formula…” he plops you down on the table next to the damned formula he had been adjusting… never will you inhale “experiment fumes” again. Not that you’re supposed to be doing so in any case.

  “A fascinating specimen indeed,” he pokes around your fur and you shake yourself, but he is relentless with his prodding! “One of the few mammals capable of electroreception! I wonder if you've maintained those sensory capabilities... This requires immediate testing."

  He doesn’t leave you alone for a single second that you’re like this, always either checking something—one time you were freaking out about the fact that you had no idea how to eat or drink like this… and Dottore took out a notebook and tried to get you to bite his fingers to “test the venom”... you bite a bit harder than he likely bargained for. 

  Dottore does try to “help” in his own way, while he brainstorms how to turn you back, he creates a “suitable habitat” with burrowing zones and a “pool”. He means well, but he’s also using it to observe you like a specimen so you kick up dirt and splash water on the floor and tables in spite.

  Out of anyone, Dottore is the fastest to get you back to normal… or he could, if he wanted to. But he kind of likes seeing you waddle around trying to walk with webbed feet and seeing you knock your tail into things and make weird noises. He has plenty of experience pressing your buttons and what makes you tick as a human, why not enjoy a new side of you?

Kaveh;

He’s more traumatised than you are when one moment you’re standing next to him—and the next there’s a random ass deer there. He looks around and searches for you frantically, thinking you might have fallen into a creek or rolled downhill… very unaware of that same deer following him around and trying to get his attention. 

  He does love deer, he thinks you’re unimaginably cute but also kind of silly in the way horses are silly but not huge and terrifying. 

  Kaveh almost needs you to headbutt him for him to realise that you are, in fact, in front of him and not soaking around in a nearby river hanging out with the frogs. Thankfully, he’s smart enough to put two and two together after he snaps out of it—but now he’s just confused.

  How? You had just been right there! There wasn’t even a rustle of leaves or anything!

  In any case, he needs to get you back to the city… you walk like a human in a deer suit, unused to the long four legs and strange join positions—and as soon as you enter his and Alhaitham’s home (after getting your antlers caught in the door like an idiot if you have those) you suddenly stop. 

  “What is it?” Kaveh peeps from behind you, confused as to why your ass is just standing in the doorway.

  The house has hardwood floors.

  He doesn’t realise this, of course, and gives your behind a firm push—only for you to slip and slide and nearly tumble inside like a freshly born animal. Kaveh rushes in behind you, apologising for nearly knocking you over and trying to make sure you don’t fall against anything and break things… Alhaitham would never let him live it down if he saw this.

  It’s not exactly easy to… navigate this, you’re not a small animal nor are you yourself particularly knowledgeable about your new proportions. 

  He can barely stop himself from continuously stroking your fur and feeding you crunchy things to be able to watch you munch on them. It does kind of kill the fascination he had with deer, as he’s never really interacted with them so closely until you happened to become one.

  You follow him around like a lost puppy, even as he had a very important client meeting—you didn’t let him get away… and thus, Kaveh had to improvise a bit. 

  The client, an older woman, squints at you standing slightly behind Kaveh and trying to munch on the blueprints in his hands (you haven’t had food for two hours, which is disastrous with this huge stomach you have now). 

  Kaveh clears his throat, pushing your snout away. “Yes, we can change the—no, you see, this is… yes, it’s okay, this is just… a friend.”

  He has no idea how to explain this so he just chooses not to. “Anyway… about that garden idea, if we put a patio by this side—”

Neuvillette;

You can’t believe he’s keeping you in a bowl. 

  Somehow, and for some reason, when you had accompanied Neuvillette for an evening walk along the seaside just outside of Fontaine’s walls—you had stubbed your toe on a shell that stuck out of the ground, and with a sudden zap… you had turned into a blob.

  Neuvillette looks up from his desk as he hears your soft body pound against the bowl next to him—and toss up some water that almost splashes onto the documents splayed out before him—and frowns slightly. “I know it’s not very spacious… I apologise, my love. But I don’t have anything larger at this moment, hopefully the pet store will find a more adequately sized fish tank soon.”

  He doesn’t understand how you had suddenly turned into a jellyfish, you had been behind him for a brief moment before he heard your curse (likely because you stubbed your toe) and then a poof… when Neuvillette had turned around, you were like a deflated balloon on dry land. 

  Thankfully he had created a pocket of water for you from the saltwater nearby to float in as he brought you back to the city, but the situation puzzled him greatly—how could you become such a creature? He wasn’t entirely sure you were fully conscious in that body, but judging by your frustrated movements in the small bowl, he suspected you at least had partial awareness. 

  Neuvillette doesn’t want to leave you alone while you’re like this, he’s both worried you might suddenly transform back, without any clothes—which would be terribly awkward to try and depart his office in that state—or possible hurt yourself if you broke the bowl with the transformation and cut yourself.

  Thus, thankfully after you’re given a larger tank in his office (and at home, he’s not leaving you at his office overnight alone!) there is a smaller one placed in the Opera Epiclese, next to his chair. 

  During a court proceeding, Neuvillette had to present the evidence in a firmer manner than usual, as the representative to the one being judged was being rather contrarian—which was far from productive and consumed far more time than it needed to. 

  Every time he successfully made an argument that couldn’t be refuted or argued with, you released a faint bioluminescent glow—as if applauding his expert navigations of the evidence and arguments. No one seems to notice (it’s difficult enough to see Neuvillette so high up above the stage) but he still feels a bit sheepish when you do it—you’re likely not doing it on purpose, he doubts you would know how.

  Neuvillette is very careful with the temperature and the salinity levels of the water you inhabit for the time being, he creates a careful schedule to check it every few hours as well as adjusting it depending on day and night. He’s very determined to ensure you’re as comfortable as you can be, whether you realise you’re a weird blob with tentacles or not. 

  And he hopes he can figure out how to change you back soon… as cute as it is to watch you twirl around and show off when he stands before your tank, he would rather you show off your moves as yourself—where he can properly talk to and touch you. 

[yellowbrokenblue]

Could you write something about Harry, where his girlfriend is accompanying them on tour or maybe she is a 6th member of the oned (you choose how to do it) and they keep finding a way to escape without the people seeing to sleep with each other or he tries to take her to his bunk bed on the tour bus or to his hotel room... smutttt please

“My boyfriend is literally on stage.”

kofi!

cw: public sex, slight daddy kink

There was something about being surrounded by tens of thousands of teenage girls screaming your boyfriend’s name that made you feel so good that after all of this, it was your arms he was running into. Not theirs.

Liam, Zayn, Niall, Louis and Harry were the most desired men on the planet right now, but little did the fans know that you and Harry were exclusive for a while now and there was nothing they could do about it.

The guys had been nice to you for the most part. You’d joined their North American tour to get as much time with Harry as you could. But they were always busy, between rehearsals and recording sessions you didn’t have any time together. Most of the tour was you just watching the shows and exploring the city on your own, it wasn’t exactly what you had expected.

You took a quick snap of Harry performing a solo verse on stage during the last song, before slipping away to make it backstage before the crowd dispersed and so that you could greet Harry as soon as he came off stage.

He was so insanely attractive on stage, the way his jeans clung to the same legs that you’d straddle him on, and that hair that you’d tangle your fingers in…

You stood in the wings of the stage, watching as Harry skipped off towards you, a towel in his hand that he used to wipe the sweat off of his head.

He ran into your arms, grinning, lifting you up and spinning you around.

You hand him a hair tie, and he swiftly ties his hair into a tight bun, keeping the hair away from his face. He knew you liked it when his hair was tied up, it meant you could see all his features properly.

“Good show once again, rockstar.”

“All for you, baby.” Harry said, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I put on that show and you’re the only thing on my mind.”

You grin at him, your hands on his waist pulling him closer to you.

He quickly bucked his hips against your stomach, showing off the hardness forming under his pants, you look up at him, eyes wide and mouth watering.

“I’ve been waiting all day to get my hands on you, gorgeous.” Harry breathes, his hot breath hitting against your neck.

“Then you can have me. Where’s the hotel?” You ask.

“No hotel tonight, sweetheart. We’re overnight on the bus tonight, Dallas to Kansas City.”

“The bus?” You question, disheartened that you wouldn’t be getting the night in a hotel together like you expected.

“Don’t look so sad, baby.” He says, whispering in your ear, quiet enough that no one else in the room will hear him, “I’ve been waiting all day for that sweet cunt of yours, hotel or no hotel, I’m still gonna have it.”

Your heart skips a beat, “Harry, you share a bus with Niall and Zayn. They’ll hear us.”

Harry smirks. “Then you’re just gonna have to be a good quiet girl for me then, aren’t ya.”

You’d never had sex in the bus before, nothing had went further than a make out.

Harry joked around about how notoriously loud you were in bed, he joked around about how all the other guests at night would be kept up at night when he fucked you.

You had no idea how he expected you to stay quiet on a bunk in a tour bus.

“Get to my bunk,” Harry says, “I gotta pick my stuff up from my dressing room and I’ll meet you there.”

You done exactly what Harry said, you made your way to his tour bus and got straight into his bunk, pulling the curtain closed. It was as small as you would imagine, considering it was a bed in a bus.

You heard the door open soon after, with the guys making their way onto the bus and walking straight up to the small living and dining area at the front where the TV was. Harry however, kicked off his shoes and jumped straight in the bunk with you.

“Hey, gorgeous.” He grinned, pulling the curtain closed once again, and placing a fierce kiss on your lips.

“Hey.” You replied.

“I’m not wasting any time with you.” He said, “Sit here in between my legs, angel.”

He lifted you into position between his legs, brushing his face against your neck, his lips then attaching to your skin.

“Remember and be quiet.” He whispered into your ear, before returning to the soft skin of your neck.

You felt his hands on your thighs, moving closer and closer up your skirt, until his fingers brushed over the fabric of your panties.

You’d been soaking wet all night for him, watching him up on stage in those damn jeans, knowing damn well what was underneath and in store for you later.

It was soon after that Harry tore the panties from you, ripping them in half for his fingers to gain access to your pussy, your toes clenching as his fingers moved in rapid circles, the tension building between your legs.

He had to put one hand over your mouth to keep you quiet.

“Gagging you already and I don’t have a finger inside you yet, nevermind my dick.” He lowered his head to whisper in your ear, “How you gonna last, huh?”

You moan into his hand as he brings you to an orgasm. You feel your body quiver as he continues to pump his fingers into you, soaking them in your sticky cum.

“That’s it baby.”

This was one of the longest orgasms you’d ever had from just his fingers- something about the anticipation and naughtiness of being so dirty just feet away from his bandmates, paired with his hand firmly pressed over your mouth was too much for your body to deal with.

You were still processing your high when Harry moved so he was balancing on top of you, moving your body so your head was rested on the pillow. You watched as he slid his pants down his legs and shoved them at the end of his bed, and began to palm his cock over his boxers.

He was so big- it shocked you every time how he actually fit inside of you.

“Sorry for rushin’ baby, but I need to be inside of you,” He said quietly, “Just stay nice and quiet for me, okay?”

You nod, and he discards the underwear, and you hike your skirt as far up your hips as you can.

Balancing above you, he sunk his cock slowly inside of you.

“Harry, oh!-”

He slammed his hand over your mouth, keeping you quiet.

“Quiet, princess. We have company, remember.”

He stayed very still for a short moment, his cock still buried inside of you. He enjoyed watching you squirm, watching your eyes beg for him to move. Your sweet, sweet eyes. Those eyes he got to stare at while he performed, the eyes which were the last thing that he saw before he kissed you, and those eyes he got to see when he fucked you.

When he started to move his dick, thrusting his hips, your eyes squeezed shut.

“Darlin’” He whispered, “You open your eyes when I fuck you. Understand?”

You nod, opening your eyes again.

Harry was moving faster, his thrusts deep and hard. You had no idea it was possible to cum in five minutes purely from a man’s dick until you met Harry. He knew exactly what to do with your body in bed.

Your walls began to clench around him, your body shaking with every moment. By now you’d be screaming his name, but his hand was still firmly over your mouth. Any possible sound you could make was escaping through your nose as Harry’s dick pounded into you.

Harry’s bunk was small. It was crazy how little space this man needed to make you feel like this. This good.

“Cum on daddy’s cock.” Harry whispered. The tour bus TV was loud enough that hopefully they wouldn’t be able to hear the two of you by now, “Make a mess all over for me, baby.”

Harry reached for your clit, rubbing fast circles around your swollen bud until you reached your orgasm.

“Oh, god. Oh baby.” Harry groaned, indicating he was coming.

You moaned into his hand louder. The feeling of his cum filling you up.

“My sweet girl.” Harry moaned.

He felt so good.

So fucking good.

The thought of the others listening just made it all so more exciting.

[signanothername]

I wanna say I'm really happy to see you explore non romantic relationships with the skeles.

As with most fandoms there is a strong focus on romantic relationships and sexual attraction (not a bad thing at all! I also enjoy that) and less on relationships that exist outside of that. I think it's hard for some people to grasp that you can have the same amount of love and devotion, if not more, for your best friend even if you two aren't ever going to be romantic or have sex.

But there is so many types of relationships out there that aren't expressly romantic or sexual in nature. So many ways people exist and care for each other that.

It's just a nice change of pace to see, so thank you!

Awww thank you!!

And yep, I completely agree!

Unfortunately romance/ sex is highly over glorified (something that I had witnessed with some comments on my own art in the far past)

So many people seem to just.. get stuck on very basic ideas about relationships

And it’s especially clear when it comes to physical affection, god forbid you have a character be openly affectionate with another character by holding hands or kissing each other’s foreheads/cheeks or cuddles, or nuzzling noses or foreheads and them actually be platonic with zero romance or sex involved

It’s like.. there’s this genuine problem with people being unable to fathom that you can be extremely affectionate with another person and it be strictly platonic

It’s actually such a big problem that I sometimes hesitate to post certain artworks/comics, cause I know people just can’t fathom that love can run so deep and it still be platonic

But this is exactly why I take it upon myself to show that sort of love and devotion and it strictly be platonic, I want to see siblings kissing each other’s cheeks and nuzzling noses, I want to see friends sleeping in the same bed, I want to see characters be extremely affectionate, and love each other so deeply without it having any romantic or sexual undertones

Just friends, family whether biological or found and their love and affection, their willingness to go far and beyond for who they love, and showing it in all the different ways they can

Anyway I’m extremely passionate about strictly platonic relationships, they make my heart warm inside and I’ll forever be the platonic enthusiast lil guy in the dark corner of this vast space we call the internet <333

Have some more artworks I never shared of my fave blorbos loving each other so much and being affectionate cause yes

[aliceinborderlandsquidgame]

Wrong move | The Salesman x Fem!Reader

Summary: He thought you were in love with him....maybe he needs to show you how much you need him.

Warnings: SFW - Possessive!Salesman - Obsessive!Salesman - Controling!Salesman - Red flag basically - Unhealthy relationship - Power imbalance - DARK!Salesman - grammar mistakes -

Note: Not part of "Home Bliss", this is a different universe.

"No"

These were the words that have been in the Salesman's mind for a week now. His aparment, a place he used to love coming to since you were here waiting for him now felt like a empy box. Walls too grey to look at, too dull. The food did not have teaste and his bed felt too big.

When did things go wrong ? He did everything right.

Saw you one day at the local park, got enamoured by you. Followed you around, got to know your schendelure so he could see you from afar. Was able to hack your phone to know every last detail. Your social media were poorly secured. He got to know you like he knew his own skin, when he finally did approach you, you were already his.

And after two years, two years of beautiful moments together, perfectly crafted by him, each one calculated and made so you would fall more and more for him. He got you to move in with him, he was accepted by your friends, your family loved him, and saw him like part of it.

He was sure, centrain that this was the right moment. The perfect one. This was your favorite season, favorite month, perfect hour of the day and a well secured place so you would not feel pressure over it.

Some part of him wanted you to come to him willing.

But your words were marked liked fire. The exchange and after events lived rent free inside his head.

How he had managed to keep his facade he has no idea. The aparment (after you refused to get back) was the one that suffered his rage. All the expensive forniture was destroyed by him, some walls had blood by how much he had punched them.

He was a mess, a disaster. How could yo do it  ? After everything? Weren't you two the perfect match ?

A ding from his phone, the ding he had set just for you sounded.

"Sorry, I think its better if we stop seeing each other. I will pass to get my things soon"

The phone went flying. Were you breaking up with him by text ? When he had read all the exchange with your friends  ? Like how scared you were and how fast it felt. Why were you doing this?

And your doubts ? He never saw them, you seemed content by his side. And loved him like that.

But your personal diary on your phone said different. You felt trapped, like he knew too much, like he was not being honest.

Maybe he should have been more...severe? Showing you just how bad he could be, maybe he let your leash go too large and now he was paying the consequences.

But would he give up ? No. After all you were just confused, and scared, you just needed a reminder of how much you needed him. How he could be the only one for you.

He took the phone back, the screen broke but other functions working. He ignored your message and instead went to his contacts. He had many friends, friends that could ruin you completly.

"I need a favor"

Leaving him was the start of your nightmare.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~

At first the relationship was fine. How does peopel put it ? Honeymoon? Well you two had it for very long.

He was the man any woman could ask for, gentle, caring, doting, never forgot a special date. And would get your favorite things.

But something was off. His eyes, the same dark eyes that sparked when he saw you, these eyes would change to sharp and cold around others. You felt like he was always on you, even when being away for work, he would just know when to send you a message or call you.

Would meet you randomly on the streets, knew when you wanted to do something even when you never mentioned it.

Something was wrong. Your gut told you to run from him but you did not know how. After all on the eyes of everyone he was perfect.

Then he asked to marry you, and you saw your chance. You could say you got scared and that things just did not work out after it.

But it did not go that way.

Once you had got your things from his aparment your Boss called, he had said how sorry he was but the company was cutting off some employees and you were one of them.

Your work, your dream work. The one you had passed years preparing yourself, tears and blood for it. The one that made your parents proud.

Ripped out from you with one call.

Then it came your social circle. Slowly your Friends stopped meeting with you, some removed you from their social media, and some blocked your number. You never got to know what was wrong, or what you did.

And later your parents, it was a shame losing your job, it was worse not being able to get another one.

"Sorry we are looking for something different"

"Your solicitude was read but right now we need another thing"

"We will call you"

Rent became impossible, and so you had to move back with them. Your mother was not happy, telling you how much of a failure you were, how your brother was making money overseas and how your sister had made a family.

Your father did not even look at you. Like he felt guilty, not even the company he used to work for would take you in.

Your days became a circle of sending out curriculums and doing your best to keep your parents happy even when you knew they did not want you there.

And some days you would go to the park and cry. Not caring if others saw you, your life was ruined, you had nothing. Maybe....maybe if you had said yes....

Checking your phone you saw the contacts, mom, dad, brother, sister and him. You were sure you had removed his number but it kept coming back. Maybe you were getting sick because of the stress.  Your finger went over the call buttom till you finally hitted it.

~���~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○

He never wanted to see you like this, so broken, so out of life. Maybe he had insolated you too much. Let some lies to your Friends and mother that grew and now they hated you. Your father was a rough one, he had used some...other methods for him. But did coperate at the end.

"You dont seem so good" Were his first words and you looked down at your lap.

"Im sorry for have called you.., after everything"

"Dont say anything. I was glad I got your call. I wanted to know how you were doing" He lied, he knew you were miserable.

Only him could fix it.

"I have...well things have been bad" You addmited "I dont want to burden you with it, maybe this was a mistake"

You went to get up and leave but a firm grip on your hand stopped you. His eyes, cold and sharp like he was seeing his prey.

You, you were his prey.

"Sit" It was an order not a request "Lets talk for a bit more, maybe I can help you, for the old times"

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○

"Are you sure? (Y/N) you can still go back and say no" Your fathers voice cut off.

You were wearing a beautiful weeding dress, outside from a ceremenoy to take place.

"Dad...you have been saying that since I told mom and you that I was getting married. This is good, we actually made up and I even got my work back, with double pay. Was not what you wanted for me?"

Your father did not respond. He still remembers that night. The night your "perfect" boyfriend appear. When he told him how your life would be so bad you would be wishing you were gone.

"And if thats not enoguh, maybe leaving her limp like you will do the trick"

He had tried for many months to hide his injury, the injury that man had caused him and promised to do the same to you.

"Dad? Its your leg hurting? You are crying"

"No dear, im fine. A little emotional to see you go"

When the doors opened and he walked you in and saw the monster you were going to marry he felt like dying there. When he gave you to him he could see it, he was liking his pain.

"I will take good care of her" Were his only words, and by the time his eyes were on you it had changed.

Love? Obsession ? A twisted sense of care ? No one could tell, no one dared to ask.

Him ? He was just happy you finally accepted what was best for you.

Him, he was the best for you.

"Till death do us apart"

Not even death would be able to separate you from him.

[shycloudkitty]

Just one more minute...

Summary: Your husband has to leave for yet another mission but he's not quite ready to let you go yet… So he just savors…each… moment… 

Pairing: Death Island! Leon × Fem reader

Tags: a bit angsty but lots of comfort, Leon sleeping peacefully for once in his life, fluff, established relationship. Just overall a short comfy read <3

WC: 1.3K

Small droplets of rain splatter on the windows of your bedroom. The soft sound created a soothing lullaby for the ears for those who were sleeping to it. The cloudy weather and the chill air contributed in making it the most serene environment while you stay snuggled up peacefully in your husband's arms with a warm blanket over you. 

His arms stayed around your waist holding you gently in a warm embrace, face nuzzling your hair, gentle breathing warming your neck. This was always his favorite position to fall asleep to. Your smell, your soft touch, your weight beneath him, telling him that you were really here… You were real. 

Your arms were wrapped around his bare torso and face buried in his chest. Feeling his body warmth seep into your skin. Limbs trained to take life, now just protecting you from the chill air and comforting you in your sleep. 

It was such a simple moment, just a couple sleeping and relaxing in each other's comfort. But at the same time it was so rare between you two. Just having these simple moments with him felt like a blessing. It was heaven.

And why wasn't it normal for both of you? Right. He had a job of saving the world, do or die, special agent... You get the idea. Except his job wasn't exactly a James Bond one. That only happened in movies. No, this was more grim than what they show in the movies. But what can you do when these are the cards life dealt you with? 

But he always felt inspired by you, how you handled every situation thrown at you with grace. Obviously, he wasn't a fool, he could see it was tough but still tried your best. Even in this relationship, you handle everything with so much love and care…he never had someone who sticked with him more than a few months let alone actually get married to. 

He didn’t hold anything against his exes, like his life was basically swamped with work so he understood why they left. What was actually confusing? You staying in his life, despite everything. You stayed even when he missed some of the important moments of your life. Sadly, that was the reality of his job. You win some, you lose some.

He was obviously happy that you stayed with him despite everything but he never quite understood why? He couldn't help but ask you this question. He remembers seeing your cheeks get red, avoiding his gaze and softly saying ‘I love you’. He also recalls saying ‘thank you’ in response because of how flustered he got from the confession. 

That memory always makes him facepalm himself.

After the day of your confession it was like his world flipped. And even though he didn't understand it fully at the time he wanted to do everything in his power to keep you in his life, even if it meant catering to your every whim. He listened to everything you said, trying to remember the best he could. 

He actually has a secret folder on his phone containing everything about your likes and dislikes just in case he needs a refresher. 

He didn’t even realize when it happened but he fell in love with you and wanted to keep you in his life forever. Thankfully, you felt the same way when he got down on one knee and asked if you wanted to marry him. He almost lost the ring with how nervous he was, fidgeting with the ring box in his pocket every 5 minutes.

It's been a few years since he tied down the knot with you and it was the best decision of his life. Sure, being married presents its own set of problems, sometimes things get rocky between you two, but there was nothing you both couldn't solve. Sometimes the problems needed talking, other times he could tell without you saying a word. But each time he makes it known that he loves you. Always. 

The soft rain slowly stirs Leon awake, he glances at his surroundings and then looks down at your sleeping face with his bleary eyes. He yawns and rubs his eyes, the digital clock on his nightstand read 6:30am. 

It was still half an hour early before he had to go to work today for some missing person assignment Hunnigan gave out. He didn’t wanna go but apparently it was top priority and needs his immediate attention. He told you about it last night, you weren't exactly happy since it was last minute but at this point you had grown used to it.

He tilts his head and looks at your serene face, caressing your cheek and sighing. His lips press a soft kiss on your forehead and gently threads his fingers through your hair. His voice comes as a soft whisper. “I don't wanna go either… you know that, right?” You probably knew how he felt about going too. You could read him like a book at this point. 

His eyes flit through your soft features, taking note of your breathing, slow and deep, fully relaxed. He smiles to himself and whispers in the same soft voice. “God, you’re so beautiful. You always are.” he lovingly brushes some hair out of your face. “I'm really lucky I get to see you like this, feels like I'm in heaven even if I probably won't ever go there. You do so much for us, I wish I could just stop this moment for us and never let go.”

He sighs softly and slowly pulls you closer to the warmth of his chest, trying not to jostle you too much. He closes his eyes briefly, focusing on your warmth. And starts mumbling to himself. “Honestly, if I was a poet I would have written dozens of poems about you. They probably would have been corny but you would have liked it.”

He gently starts brushing your hair again and continues. “But since I'm not… I don't have enough words to fully express how much you mean to me. The fact that we’re still together, makes me the luckiest fool ever lived. My heart hurts sometimes because of how happy I get cause of you.”

He sighs and mumbles. “I'm not normal…never have been. But with you…I feel that I finally became the man that I was supposed to be. And that I finally have a place called home."

He scoffs to himself, shaking his head. He didn't know what had possessed to become so sentimental this early. “I'm really cheesy aren't I?”

He felt soft teardrops on his chest where your face was resting. You had woken up from his rambling. 

His heart clenches from realization. He gulps, feeling the sudden lump rise up in his throat. He hugs you tighter and rubs your bare back. “I will come back, I promise.” Softly pressing a kiss on your shoulder. 

He glances at the time again. It was nearly 6:55am. He had to start getting ready for work. 

He slowly tilts your face, wiping away the tears from your shining eyes. His expression softens, cupping your face in his hands and softly kisses you. He feels you kiss him back, your grip on his arm tight. 

After a few moments you both slowly pull back from the kiss, eyes closed, foreheads resting against one another, soft breathing filling the quiet room. He softly mumbles. “I have to get ready now sweetheart.”

He feels you shake your head in response. Your soft voice fills the room. “No…wait for few more minutes. Just stay.”

He gulps and nods. He wasn't strong enough to deny that request. He pulls you close, covering both of you in the blanket. “Of course, darling.” And press soft kisses on your shoulder. 

Enjoying these quiet moments of solace with you. Even if he couldn't make this moment last forever, he knew he would come back to relish it again... 

Usually I wouldn't say this but I would very much appreciate it if you left comments, obviously if you want to. It helps me improve and encourages me to write more. 😊❤

-Bella

[fatfemmefreaquency]

i think maybe what’s missing in this conversation is a discussion of the fact that we could all consume less, actually

one of the primary concerns in terms of AI criticism is the environmental impact—these generative AI technologies consume a huge amount of energy because they require significant computing power

like yeah—some consumption is necessary for survival. and some is necessary to thrive

but do we really need all of the digital art that we’re producing? through AI??? you need soulless art? really? examine that assumption i think

it’s also worth acknowledging that the art is still going to be somewhat soulless when it’s produced by someone being exploited for their labour

and yeah. it IS exploitation to pay people in the imperial periphery a minuscule amount—most goods cost MORE in the periphery than they do in the imperial core, not less. so paying someone a pittance and acting like they should be grateful for you sending them money at all is weird as fuck

and honestly? yeah, underpaying someone for a job is worse than not paying them at all and them therefore having the time to find other employment for which they are fairly compensated

you are not entitled to others devalued labour just because you live in the imperial core and see it as somehow magnanimous to hire people from the periphery to do work for you—and they do have fewer options for lucrative employment so this idea that theres some big difference between you exploiting them vs. a major corporation is nuts

it IS a “productive analogy” in fact to compare exploitative corporations underpaying labourers in the global south to exploitative citizens of the imperial core underpaying labourers in the global south (idk what that person further up thread was on about with that argument lol)

because these two interactions are the same thing. it’s either a private individual or an organization leveraging the disparity of access to resources between the core vs. the periphery to find ways to underpay for labour. it does not matter if it’s a sweatshop or freelancing: the material impact is the same if it’s you, individually, or if it’s a corporation

but i think what a lot of people in the imperial core forget is this: you can consume less

there is such an entitlement to the goods & services that people at the periphery produce, even among the lowest classes in the imperial core

you do not need cheaply made goods. you do not need goods or services that involve exploiting labourers

there is also an almost staggering sense of entitlement in westerners to natural resources and to energy that, frankly, should not be privately owned

like idk. why should you get to use all that computing power and electricity to produce some shitty AI art?

i don’t actually think you’re entitled to consume those resources, just as much as you’re not actually entitled to the labour of people you refuse to pay a living wage

do you need it? what’s the impact of consuming it and is the cost actually worth the quality of what you get?

i think we all deserve nice things. we all deserve enough to both survive and thrive

but AI art is not a nice thing. it doesn’t meaningfully contribute to us thriving and the cost in terms of energy use, environmental destruction, global warming/ climate change, and other harms caused by the tech industry around it is too fucking much

none of us can afford to foot the bill

go watch some tv show or consume some art that already exists. ideally do it NOT by streaming—you can still buy physical media and watching or viewing it still costs less than streaming does

you know what’s more environmentally and economically sustainable than churning out a bunch of AI Garbage OR exploiting an artist to make something sub-par (because they’re not being paid enough to do their best work)? museums. galleries. being in nature. making your own art. looking at art your family & friends make. there are beautiful and fascinating and worthwhile things to look at in many, many places

i promise it won’t kill you to not have your own personal artists at your beck and call, be they generative AI or underplayed freelancers

i love how many AI art haters will with no self awareness whatsoever ask "ummm why don't you just underpay and exploit someone (probably in the global south) instead of using the evil words machine :/"

[thesunloveschips]

Obsessed - Part 9 (Azriel x Reader)

Summary: After Azriel's mother reprimands him, he orchestrates another coincidence that leads to a reconciliation.

Warnings: Y/n being a bit naive and delulu. Azriel being the hopeless billionaire still in love because we all deserve a man like this. Azriel saying fluffy and corny things because we deserve men who say such things to us.

Word count: 3.6k

Click here for Obsessed (Masterlist)

****

“You insensitive little shit.” Such a pleasant woman, his mother. “How dare you violate someone’s privacy?”

“Mum, I-”

“And this is how you approached her?” Clearly, Azriel’s mother had no intention of letting him speak.

“I-”

“There are many ways to meet new people, Azriel. The most common one being that you could’ve gone up to her and politely introduced yourself.”

“She would’ve rejected me.”

“She should definitely reject you after the stunt you pulled.” 

“How-”

“The audacity. . .” Needless to say, Azriel received a scolding for the next seventeen minutes. “Leave her alone, Azriel. You’ve hurt her immeasurably. Your devotion does not compensate for that.”

“I want her in my life.”

“Then start by giving her some space. Let her sort out her feelings.”

“She’s hurting.”

“You hurt her, in case you forgot.” Like his mother would ever let him forget. “And don’t creep around in your building’s common areas just to see her.”

“Yes.”

“If I hear anything otherwise, I will stop baking pineapple cake for Christmas.”

For those of you unfamiliar with Azriel, this was the most effective way to threaten him. With his favourite dessert. Or the lack thereof.

“Yes, mum.” But Azriel’s mind had already begun concocting ideas. He was the Chairman of Umbra for fuck’s sake. If he could run a billion-dollar empire, he could definitely get Y/n back.

“If you run a billion dollar empire then I gave birth to you. Mark my words, Azriel. If you loiter around her like an aimless fool, I will burn my recipe book.” 

His mother was a pleasant woman. Her threats did not involve bodily harm. But whether he’d be able to have his mother’s homemade desserts was still debatable. “I’ll call you later. It’s my turn for the appointment.”

“Bye, mum.”

“Maintain your distance.” And she ended the call. 

Azriel supposed Y/n would definitely like his mother as a mother-in-law. His mother would have a daughter to dote on and he could simply watch the two of them chatter while sipping coffee.

Y/n had an internship. At a university in another European country. As a research assistant to a professor. For three months. Then she’d return to her own university in the city where they first met and fell in love. 

Well, he fell in love and she was unaware but not to worry, everything would be fine. 

****

Azriel knew for certain that his events management abilities were applause worthy. Why wouldn’t they be?

Because the way he orchestrated his meeting with Y/n and ended up being her neighbour was something. 

And now, he’d orchestrate a few more events. 

Y/n’s internship had ended. 

It was a good thing for her professor that he was a well mannered, decent human being. Else, Azriel would’ve definitely intervened in a manner that wouldn’t have ended well. 

And now, she was back in the same city. She had just begun the second year of her master’s program. 

Wonderful. 

In three weeks, the reclusive chairman of Umbra would give his first guest lecture in a university. 

Was it a coincidence that this was the same university Y/n attended? Absolutely not.

Because Azriel did not wait around for things to happen. He made things happen. 

That’s how he reached where he was and he was definitely not going to be discouraged.  

She’d begun to shine again during her internship. Friends, both new and old, helped her navigate life. 

He hadn’t contacted her per his mother’s instructions. 

Some days, he’d just randomly opened their chat. He’d see her online and sometimes, he’d type but he never sent a message. And he never received one either. 

Azriel sighed. 

He looked at his choice of clothes for his guest lecture. The topic was his latest collaboration with Rhysand’s Velaris Corp to acquire Hewn Inc. 

He had to look so jaw droppingly handsome that Y/n would fly into his arms and they could run off into the sunset together. 

Black was his colour. 

He knew it.

And Y/n found him hot in black.

So it was decided. Black trousers, sweater, long trench coat. 

That’s how he found himself on the stage of an auditorium, holding a mic, giving a lecture, and answering questions posed by eager and foolish students alike. 

The lecture had ended. Some students and faculties stayed back for follow up questions. Azriel patiently answered all of them when he saw her. 

Y/n. 

And he was hers.

Immediately and undoubtedly hers.

What a sad time it was when he was not hers. A sad time spanning twenty-nine years of his life. 

“Excuse me.” And Azriel made his way towards her. But then he stopped when her gaze found him. 

Fuck. 

Fuck. 

Fuck.

He wasn’t prepared for this. 

He thought he was but he wasn’t.

He hated it.

The sight of her entire body seized by the grief of his betrayal. Her emotions all over her face for him to read that Y/n had most definitely not moved on from him. 

Someone covered her from his line of sight. A face turned back with the glare of a demon. Nesta Archeron.

He sighed. And Nesta seemed offended that her glare had resulted in a sigh. She turned back and took his Y/n away. 

Azriel looked up at the sky as he pulled out his phone. He still didn’t look at the device. 

The evening pinks and violets painted the sky. Clouds were scarce. The moon was readying for its appearance. And Azriel was brooding.

A call came. A different ringtone. The one he’d set for her. 

“How many more lies?” A soft voice whispered. He knew she was referring to him not telling about his designation in Umbra. She’d thought him an ordinary employee. 

“As many as it takes to ensure your safety.” He breathed. 

“Why are you here?”

“Guest lecture.”

“And it happened to be right here?”

“Yeah.” It would happen anywhere she was. Guest lectures, conferences, and whatever the fuck that would give him a chance to see her and breathe the same air as her. 

A pause. The wind whispered something to him and danced with his hair for a while. “You’re beautiful.”

Silence. 

The call continued. And he felt oddly chaotic and calm. 

“Go away, Azriel.” 

“I cannot take impossible requests.” 

“Then take impossible orders and make it possible.” Y/n was firm. “Leave me alone.”

“I cannot.” And he knew his voice was shaky. 

“Why?”

“I need to know you’re safe, comfortable, and happy. It’s all that keeps me sane in your absence.” 

“What if I meet someone else?”

His breath hitched. “Safe, comfortable, and happy, Y/n. That’s where my selfishness for you extends.” 

“And you’re selfless in other areas?”

“You ended our relationship, Y/n, not my feelings. I will be jealous. I will be angry. But I will prioritise your safety, comfort, and happiness.” 

He’d limit it to that. Let her think that his feelings were warm and fuzzy like that favourite blanket of hers and not a mad obsession luring him into an abysmal terrain.

She did not need to know that he’d dismember and torture and slowly kill anybody who thought they had a chance with her. 

Azriel heard a sob. Some core part of him cracked. He looked in the direction where she had disappeared to with Nesta. She was not there.

He wanted to comfort her. 

Hold her and tell her not to cry because he’d make it all better. 

But he was the reason for her tears. 

So he remained silent.

Her cries slowly stopped and he heard footsteps through the phone. “What are you really doing here?” 

“I want to see you.” The footsteps paused. She was probably standing somewhere.

“You saw me.” She immediately threw the words as if they were an accusation.

“Didn’t see you enough.” 

She remained silent. Azriel really couldn’t believe he’d said that. He was a master at controlling his emotions. At least, until Y/n.

“Why didn’t you tell me about Umbra?”

“I wanted to hog you for myself. Not for the man who owns Umbra.” 

“You are that man.”

“I’ve always been Azriel. I did not own Umbra all my life.” The pain of being an illegitimate child suddenly came to the forefront of his mind. 

“And now it’s an inseparable part of you.”

“Not as inseparable as you think.” Because he’d leave it all behind for her. 

“I liked you, Azriel.” Everything paused. The pain in her voice made it all too evident that she still liked him. “I really did but this. . . This is just. .”

“I want another chance, Y/n.” 

“How can you ask such a thing?”

“Another chance with you knowing the full extent of what I will do for you.” 

“And what is this extent?”

“There’s no extent.”

“What?”

“There’s no extent, no line, no limit on what I will do for you.” And even if there was an extent he couldn’t recall right now, he knew Y/n was not unreasonable enough to demand for it. And if she was, then he’d simply comply.

“Does that extent also include violating my privacy? Disrespecting me? As long as you’ve secured my safety and happiness?” 

“There’s no line I won’t-”

“The problem wasn’t the line. The problem wasn’t Umbra. The problem was you hiding it all from me. The problem was you not asking my permission, not considering my feelings, while digging up everything about me like a mole rat.”

Azriel remained stunned. 

How had this slipped past him?

He’d thought he was careful with her feelings. And so, he’d resolved to only tell the good things. Things that wouldn’t be troublesome for her while wanting to know all about her and her problems so that he could eliminate them and make life easier for her. 

But was this a true relationship where he carried the burdens and she carried the joy? 

Weren’t they supposed to carry their lives together no matter the good or the bad?

“You hide things from me but you want to know everything about me so you just get someone to find it all.”

“I’m truly sorry, Y/n. I should’ve told you everything.” And since he hadn’t, he’d lost her. “I was desperate to have every bit of you.” But that desperation hadn’t entitled him to all those bits. “I’m sorry for violating your privacy.” He should’ve waited to know everything that comprised this wonderful woman. “I couldn’t wait. And I’ve now lost you.” 

“What am I even supposed to say?”

“You don’t have any obligation to say anything.” 

“I have no obligation to listen to you.” No, she didn’t. This call was just an act of mercy she granted owing to her own feelings for him that she couldn’t control. 

“Thank you for listening.” 

“I suppose you have more to say.” 

“I do.” He really wanted to say these words at their wedding. 

“Let’s meet.” She sniffled. “I want to know what exactly you know about me.” In the background, he could hear Nesta telling Y/n against it. 

“When are you free?” She gave him a time and venue. And Azriel motioned to the assistant who’d accompanied him that they were leaving. “I’ll meet you there.” 

Silence prevailed. The only sound was his own footsteps.

“Why are you not ending the call?”

“I’ve never ended any of our calls.” Because he’d always wanted to hear her voice. Even if she had anything to say at the last minute. They’d done that many times. 

“Bye.” And he couldn’t help his sad sigh. Azriel walked over to the venue even though there was time. 

****

Y/n was getting the lecture of her life. Nesta was incessantly rambling while she got ready. 

She’d spotted Azriel outside the Department of Business Studies after her classes had ended and she was heading back to her flat shared with her friend. 

“You have to be careful with him. Are you listening to me?” Nesta placed her hands on Y/n’s shoulders. 

“Yeah.” She slumped against her best friend.

“And it does not matter if he’s devilishly handsome or sexy or you had the best sex of your life with him or if you like him or love him or he likes you or loves you or-”

“I’ll be fine.” Nesta really didn’t have to remind her about Azriel’s attractiveness. 

“Really?” Nesta didn’t say it out loud but she knew her well enough. Her friend definitely thought that Y/n would reconcile with Azriel. 

“Yeah.”

Nesta took her in a hug. “Got your pepper spray?” 

“Mhm.”

“So the first thing you do is to spray it. Spray it all over his unnecessarily pretty face.” Y/n remembered the first time she’d talked to Nesta about Azriel and she’d used the words ‘unnecessarily pretty’ to describe him.

“I’m going there to talk.”

“Then spray it on his eyes and ears.”

“All right.” Y/n chuckled. She knew her friend was furious at this man she’d never even met.

It had taken her a while to revive herself. The depth of her feelings for Azriel revealed itself to her only upon his betrayal. 

And she felt like she was heading to war. It probably was, in a sense. 

Y/n reached the park ten minutes before but she loitered around, her nerves wracking and snapping against her, telling her to leave. 

“Y/n.” She’d recognise that voice. She was weak for him like that. 

Y/n turned and saw him dressed for a funeral. In black. 

Any other day and she would’ve thought he looked hot but today when she was a miserable mess with no rein over her feelings, she worried for herself.

Was he going to kill her and chop her body and scatter the pieces in some sewer like he’d done with her heart? 

“Azriel.” Yep. She sounded weak. Affected. 

He took a step forward, the leaves crunching beneath his shoe. Y/n took a step back. 

This conversation was definitely going to be difficult. 

“Would you like me to remain at a distance?” He asked, gently. And she was reminded of the times when this man simply clung to her frame because he didn’t want to let go. In bed, the bath, all around their apartments.  

“Yes.” She breathed. “What do you know about me?”

And he narrated her own story. 

About her pathetic family, her horrifying mother, her counselling sessions from high school, all the people who hurt her, all the people she’d ever befriended. 

He knew everything that had ever been documented about her. 

At the end of his revelation, she simply closed her eyes and sighed. 

“I won’t tell anyone.” He promised solemnly. Was his word worth anything now? Or wasn’t it?

“Am I supposed to trust that?” She dryly asked. And with those words, she’d hurt him. She saw the hurt painted on his face like a dark stain. And fury pumped through her veins.

“You’re not entitled to feel hurt.” How dare he pretend he was the victim here? “Not after this.” She stood up and grabbed her sling bag and phone. Azriel immediately stood up. “I. .” But she really had nothing to say. 

Y/n didn’t know what he was going to do with all that information. But maybe it didn’t matter since he had the resources to do that to anyone. He could keep tabs on her for the rest of her miserable life. 

Even then, no matter how long and hard she thought about it, she didn’t mind. 

She didn’t mind him keeping tabs on her.

She didn’t mind him knowing where she was and what she was doing. She’d told him enough of that herself while they were together and happy.

In a way, she understood it. Maybe she even liked it. 

Y/n was honestly only bothered by him hiding this. By him digging her past out of a box she wasn’t ready to open in front of him. 

Was this devotion? 

Or simply madness?

“I won’t tell you that I wouldn’t do it if we went back in time because I would.” Oh, he was hell bent on making this difficult.

“You could’ve told me.” She whispered. “That you were having me followed.” 

Y/n closed her eyes and inhaled deeply before she continued. 

“And you should’ve waited for me to tell you everything.” All that fucked up part of her, a product of her mother’s parenting skills. “You have the nerve to dig into my past and yet, you kept yours hidden. You’ve kept your life hidden from me and I respected that.” 

Y/n held up a hand when she saw Azriel open his mouth to speak. He had such a beautiful mouth. She wanted him to kiss her. 

“I’m not interested in you knowing everything and that too without my knowledge and permission while I know nearly nothing about you. And before you ask, information on Google does not count.” 

“I’m an illegitimate child.” What? 

Y/n remained shocked as Azriel told her his story. Of how his father and brothers mistreated him and his mother, how he killed them before he took over Umbra.

“Why did you tell me? You had no obligation.” Gods, she really was weak for this man. And for him to be so emotionally vulnerable in front of her made her want to hug him. 

“Because now I realise that a romance is also to be a partnership. It shouldn’t be me knowing everything while you live obliviously. You have as much right to know.” 

Yep, she was doomed. 

Her resolve was faltering. And she was feeling and falling. 

The hot chocolate in front of her that she’d ordered as a formality was cooling down. 

“One chance.” She whispered, praying silently that he wouldn’t break her heart again. “And that will be your last one.” 

****

Azriel knew failure. Many different types of it. He’d known it when he failed his first test. When he lost his first fight. When his applications were rejected. When he had been rejected by friends, girlfriends, his father, his half-brothers, his stepmother. 

So much had been taken from him. And he’d been pushed to the edge of the world before he found the resolve to stand up. It was the sight of his mother cringing in front of his father. 

And then he concocted his wonderful five-year plan. At the end of it, Umbra was his. His mother, safe and comfortable. His father and half-brother, dead. And that wretch of a stepmother, practically exiled. 

And then he’d lost Y/n, truly and completely. 

Azriel wanted Y/n. He’d spent the best few months of his life with her. 

She made him endlessly happy and he tried his best to do the same for her. 

He knew her presence in his life was a privilege. But now it seemed like he’d never taken that privilege seriously and had never respected it in the manner he should have. 

So when she gave him one last chance, he’d been revived. His posture changed, eyes widening. Every movement right then felt as though he was rising from the grave or a coffin and returning to the land of the living. 

Honesty. That would now be an integral part of this relationship. There would be no excuses. And then he remembered something he’d caused. 

Azriel debated telling her but since secrecy had never worked in his favour in this relationship, he made his decision. “So, remember your ex?”

Y/n frowned. “Which one?”

“The one from college.” He was unprecedentedly nervous. 

“Yeah.”

“The one roped into a tax fraud.”

“Yeah?” Y/n blinked and leaned forward. “You did that?”

Azriel nodded quietly. She slumped back into her seat and sighed. “Well, he’s no longer my concern. Do I have to convince you to move on from him?”

“He hasn’t gotten enough.” 

“And he deserves no effort from anybody, the good or the bad. Anything else you want to tell me?” 

“I’ve never had a proper relationship before.” Her eyes widened and she kept looking at him as if she’d never seen him before. Why would she do that? 

“How come?” 

Why was she asking such a question? Wasn’t it obvious why he’d never been in a proper, serious relationship. “Because I’d never met you before.”

Silence prevailed. Y/n looked away in that adorable manner of hers, clearly blushing. And Azriel couldn’t help his smile. “Does that surprise you?”

She glared at him and then stood up. The evening wind was cool and felt pleasant on her face. Y/n looked around, finally noticing the park around her. 

People were in pairs, walking or simply sitting. Couples, most likely. 

And then there was her. With him. On a bench. Sitting at a distance. Azriel really wanted that distance to vanish. So he called her name. 

Y/n looked back at him and he was already looking back at her. “I swear to all the hot chocolate in the world, Azriel. If you ever pull a stunt like this, I’m leaving you.”

He took a step forward. And another. She did not move from her place. “May I?” 

“Yes.” She breathed, eyes closing. Memories sprung forth like a fountain from all the times they'd kissed.

He pressed his lips on her forehead before promising. “I won’t pull a stunt like this. Ever. And if you do leave me, you will be leaving with my heart as you did three months ago.”

“And you’ll give guest lectures to see me even after that?” Y/n leaned into his touch and smiled. The first smile in months. He felt some semblance of peace settle in his heart.

“A Ted Talk, if needed.” Azriel smiled at her faintly. And behind his smile, he really hoped for their future.

****

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[dark-moonlust]

Fated Mates

Commission for Jana Pachner on Patreon!

Pairing: werewolf oc (Eli) x fem curvy reader

Summary: your werewolf roommate is secretly in love with you. He reaches his breaking point when he smells your arousal because of the books you read.

Warnings: minors don’t interact, 18+, mutual pining, explicit smut, primal kink, possessive werewolf, oral(fem), bulk werewolf, knotting.

It was a challenge to live under the same roof and see you sitting in that recliner, knees curled up, nose buried in one of those monster smut books. Your breathing became irregular as you reached the spicy parts and subtle color crept up your neck, extending to your cheeks. You also squeezed your thighs together, having no idea that your werewolf roommate’s senses were sharper than any human's.

Mate, the wolf growled in him. Ours.

It was primitive and irrefutable as if the universe had imprinted you on his soul.

And this time, your scent was his undoing.

It all spoke to him, tempted him, and anchored him to you.

But he could not tell you. Not yet. You were a human. Delicate.

And if he claimed you were his mate—that you belonged to him, that his entire soul was aching for you—you’d flee. He’d run, too, if he were in your shoes. He was a werewolf, buff, tall, and scary to most. Primal, animalistic, too.

But tonight, you were testing his patience.

Sitting there looking like a snack, a tattered paperback in your hands with a cover that he couldn't look at without his mind wandering into a dangerous zone. A bare-chested werewolf and a heroine with curves that matched her own.

And your scent— Goddamn it, that scent.

Eli took a sharp inhalation, his claws sinking into the couch's armrest.

He knew he needed to leave. To run. To breathe.

Then you sighed. Soft. Breathless. Sweet.

That was his undoing.

You glanced at him amid your dirty reading.

Your roommate. Eli. Your infuriatingly gorgeous, towering werewolf (who was always shirtless by the way).

Eli had chosen to stay stubbornly with you while you read your smut. Your book was good—one of those stories in which the brooding, possessive werewolf would rather burn the world than see his human mate with someone else. It was good but no amount of fictional tension amd sex could match the real thing sitting across the room.

Eli had a steely smirk and a presence that made the air hum. He'd always been kind, lively, and easy to talk to, but there was something wild beneath the surface that you couldn't resist. It was the way his golden eyes lingered on you, or how he seemed to shift closer to you every chance he got, or how he tensed every time you were aroused.

Like right now.

You took a quick glimpse over the top of your book. And sure enough, there he was, sitting stiffly on the couch, his knuckles white from gripping the armrest. His jaw was locked, and his chest moved in tiny gasps and… and was that a bulge in his pants? You swallowed.

"Eli?" you asked quietly, lowering the book. He did not glance at you. Did not move.

But his harsh, low voice sent chills down your spine.

"Yeah?"

"You okay?"

A pause. Then a quick, dry laugh with no humor. "Fine. Why?"

You grimaced and closed the book completely. "You seem tense.”

His head snapped toward you, and his eyes locked on yours. The intensity in his gaze caused your breath to hitch. Heat pooled down in your stomach, your body betraying you.

“Fuck. I cannot handle it anymore,” he muttered. His discipline, which had already worn thin, was unraveling by the second.

"Eli?"

"Why do you read that stuff?" His voice came out rough.

You blinked. "What stuff?"

He pointed to the book. "That. Those books."

Your cheeks flushed. "I-I'm not sure. They are... entertaining."

"Entertaining," he said, standing up, all his bulky gorgeous body and you leaned back slightly, your wide eyes fixed on his.

"It's just fiction," you muttered. ”Sexy as hell, too.”

And then you saw it.

His breaking point.

"Is it? Or do you read them because you wish I was there to make you feel something?"

Your lips parted, but no words came out. You could feel the tension between you, tightening like a wire about to break.

Could you risk it? Tell him the truth? Of how much you craved him?

"Tell me," he repeated, his voice low and rough. "Do they make you think of me?"

You could not breathe. Your body was reacting to him as it always did, heat gathering between your legs as his gaze drove into you. He was too close, his presence surrounding you, the only thing that mattered. You couldn't lie. Not when every nerve in your body craved him.

"Yes."

His pupils dilated. "Yes?"

“Yes… the books. They make me think of you.”

His lips curled into a predatory grin and he pushed closer, too quickly, and placed his hands on your shoulders before you could blink. You gasped as his touch shot a shock through your veins, the heat between you overwhelming.

“Reading thinking about me, hm? Every damn page."

You couldn't react because your heart was pounding so hard in your ears, that you felt you were going to drown.

But then his lips were on yours, wet, warm and demanding, as if he couldn't hold back anymore. Your hands trembled as they moved up his naked chest, stroking the muscles. You drew back for a moment, not believing this was real. But once you met his eyes; wide with need, and something deeper you knew.

He wanted you.

Eli kissed you again and this time, he fucking devoured you. You moaned, and damn, it almost drove him crazy. The monster in him snarled, enraged and hungry, urging him to take, claim, and brand you. You were his mate, his other half.

He deepened the kiss, moving his hands down your arms and felt your curves beneath his touch. You also tasted like temptation—sweet and innocent— your lips parting beneath his, your tongue hesitant at first, but then melting into him. Your scent; lavender and that enticing natural scent of your skin enveloped him, and he couldn't get enough of it.

His hands moved lower, pressing into the curve of your hips, pulling you close to him. You gasped into his mouth, and he groaned at the sensation of your soft, full body pressed against the hard lines of his.

"You don't know what you're doing to me," he said, his voice raw.

You moaned, your hands slipping to the waistline of his pants, fingertips teasing the fabric.

Challenging him, playing with fire.

Why not? You were already lost.

"Maybe I do," you said softly, lips brushing against his jaw.

A feral growl left him as he carried you in his strong arms and plopped you down on the bed. You couldn't help but look up at him—at your sexy werewolf. He looked back—possessive, ravenous as if he could swallow you in an instant. He would.

"Do you really want this, sweetheart?"  he asked.

"Yes. I want this… want you."

Everything happened in a flash. His hands moved, and you arched into his touch as he ripped your clothes. He pulled off his pants and boxers, removing all your clothes until were both naked, his clawed fingers caressing your plump tits, over one tight nipple, then the curvature of your waist, and down to the soft swell of your thighs.

“Fuuuck, look at you. Perfect," he drawled. "Every inch of you."

“I second that.”

His muscles flexed as he hovered above you, a great beast, the gorgeous heat of his body radiating on yours.

The contrast between you was uncanny. You were all soft, mushy thighs and belly, and he was everything you had envisioned in your fantasies and more. So much more.

And he was magnificent. All raw power and bulk, every inch of him designed for strength. His arms, chest, abs—and Gods, his dick. It was even better than the slutty monster books you read. Generously thick and long, with a sharp tip leaking pre-cum and a fat knot at the base.

Your thoughts faded when his lips followed a line down your neck, and you arched into him, allowing him to feel the fullness of your tits pressing against his firm hairy chest. You wanted him on your nipples. He took the bait and dragged his tongue around one nipple, his hand fondling the other mound.

Bliss coursed through you. He slurped up your breasts and meanwhile, your hands moved down his torso, feeling the way his muscles contracted under your touch, the roughness of his skin, and the heat that radiated off him. When you gripped his cock, his snarl made your entire body shiver.

“Ahhh, sweetheart. You're driving me crazy," he said, his voice thick with need.

“Good. I want to drive you nuts.”

He chuckled. “My turn first, love.”

A swift move and he was between your legs, his hands seizing your hips, his tongue pushing at your folds and eating your cunt. You jerked and whined, feeling his tongue as it made torturous circles over your clit, sending thrills up your spine and driving you higher and higher until you snapped.

Eyes shutting, belly trembling as cries of pleasure left you. Unbidden.

"You don't even know what you've done to me, do you?" His tongue brushed against your oversensitive clit, his fangs glinting.

"What have I done?" you gasped, voice quivering.

"You have been ruining me for months. Every time you curled up on the couch with those filthy books."

His cock pressed against your sloppy slit, making it even sloppier by spreading his pre-cum over your folds.

“Please…” you whimpered but he held you tightly, anchoring you beneath him.

"You've been tormenting me without even knowing it."

You swallowed hard, heat rising in your cheeks. "You could've said something… I wanted you for so long but I was scared," you said quietly. "I didn't know if you wanted me."

"You think I didn’t want you?" His voice was low and sinister. “I need you, love. Every inch of you. This body. This softness. This skin. This heat. All mine.”

“Yours.”

He growled, slapping his girthy cock over your entrance. "Say that again."

“Yours. I’m all yours, Eli.”

A groan echoed deep in his chest before he pushed inside. Stretching you, slowly feeding your pussy all inches of his dick. He invaded your depths as if his dick had always belonged there, the tip kissing your womb. So deep! So full! So damn good!

“You're taking me so well, sweetheart," he said, his hands caressing your tits. "Every inch."

The werewolf in him roared, set free to brand you, to claim you in every way. He held your hips, letting his claws press just enough to leave faint marks as a reminder that you belonged to him and fucked you, your bodies clashing and colliding. Your pretty cunt swallowed him up, messy and gorgeous while your body quivered beneath him, your curves beautiful and lush.

"You're going to feel me everywhere," he growled, reaching down to kiss your lips fiercely. “This is going to be nothing like those books you read. This is the real deal, love. From now on, your heart and cunt are mine. Mine to fuck, love and protect. You hear me?’

You only nodded – frantically— before you climaxed, again, your blunt nails sinking into his shoulders. But he wasn't finished. His knot was swelling, you’d read so many books about knotting. But God, this was the real deal indeed and it was freaking marvelous!

Your body tightened around him as he pushed deep and his knot enlarged, fully, locking you together. So stretched. Cum flooded you. So much it filled you to the brim. You trembled beneath him as he leaned down and swirled his tongue against your ear.

“Knotted like a good girl.” He hugged you harder, his snout brushing against your temple. “Keep my cock warm, love, okay?”

You smiled. “Hmm, I’m gonna keep it nice and warm, Eli. Where it belongs.”

"You are damned wonderful, mate. This was exactly what I'd been craving. You’re mine.”

"Always yours," you said, your voice full of need and trust.

THE END!

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[delulustateofmind]

The satosugu brain worms have been munching a short and sweet drabble for today!

TW: Yandere Behaviors. Royal Au. Bullying mentions. MDNI.

Yan!SatoSugu x Reader

Imagine having Geto as a concubine—stripping this man of his power, forcing him to kneel at your feet, groveling for your attention among the other concubines. You think you’ve got him right where you want, that you’re the one in control of this dynamic. But Geto? He’s always five steps ahead. Sure, he coddles you, worships you with sweet honeyed words, and lets those rough hands roam your body, leaving you breathless in their wake. But behind the scenes? He’s running the show.

Geto is the one creating all the drama in the palace—whispering rumors, starting fights, stirring chaos—all so your eyes never stray far from him. And when you’re too spent to think straight, he leans in close, whispering ideas about policies and decisions, planting them so subtly that by the time you bring them up at your next meeting, you almost believe they were yours. He wants more than your attention; he wants your throne.

And then there’s Gojo, your spoiled, jealous lapdog of a concubine. He hates sharing—unless it’s with Geto, and even then, the tension is palpable. But he’s willing to make it work because they both want the same thing: you. Gojo doesn’t care about the throne, though; he only wants your attention. He thrives on your pampering—lounging in milk baths scattered with rose petals, silk robes barely clinging to his shoulders as he basks in your touch, head resting on your lap as your fingers play with his white, silken strands. But don’t let that laziness fool you—Gojo’s playing his own game. He monopolizes your time, and makes sure you’re too sore, too spent, too utterly consumed by him to even look at anyone else.

And together? They’re an absolute nightmare. They act like rivals for your favor, but they’re in perfect sync, working as one to make sure no one else stands a chance. They don’t just want you as a lover—they want you as their consort. They don’t just want your heart, your love—they want the power that comes with it. Bit by bit, they’re clearing the path: a suspicious death here, a fabricated treason plot there. Every potential obstacle in their way? Gone.

You think you’re in charge, perched on your cute throne, wearing your little crown, ruling from the royal bedroom. But they’re sneaking in, step by step, until your throne feels more like their domain. By the end of it, you’ll be leashed on their laps, eating from the palm of their hands, thinking it’s exactly where you belong.

Because they do love their queen—their queen. Why waste time on a coup, when they can just fuck the throne from under you?

[amuromi]

★ ₊ ⊹ ⋆˙ ┈ 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 X ᶠ!ᴿᴱᴬᴰᴱᴿ

✦ ⋆˙ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 ┈ 6.2k

✦ ⋆˙ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒 ┈ NSFW! baby fever!gojo, breeding kink, unprotected sex, established relationship, pet names (mama, baby), oral (f!receiving), talks of having kids and starting a family, ooc!gojo

✦ ⋆˙ 𝐀!𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 ┈ The sequel is here! I felt like I couldn’t continue the storyline without at least mentioning the complications of someone like Gojo having a kid. It’s inevitable that they’re going to have a high level of cursed energy, so I wanted to explore the idea of sorcerers trying to live outside of jujutsu society constraints while also still having to adhere to them.

✮ 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 & 𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓!! ✮

The heat is on because it’s mid-winter and it’s finally gotten cold enough to snow, but somewhere in Gojo’s sprawling apartment a window is open. Not wide enough to cause a terrible draft–not that Gojo cares because he can afford to open all the windows while the heat is blasting at full tilt–but just enough to let in the smell of the crisp air outside. Gojo admittedly isn’t overly in tune with his sense of smell, all things considered. His strength is in his eyes so he’s never bothered to mull over the things that aren’t associated with his sight. He can’t exactly see the scent of frost and he can only smell it as well as any other person, but the window is open because he knows you like the smell of light snowfall. 

His staring problem comes with the territory, but, in the comfort of his own home, Gojo can’t really be faulted for looking too hard at any one thing. Especially not when his eyes are locked on his pretty girlfriend laid up on his couch. You’re curled up like a kitten in a nest, tucked into another one of his shirts and bundled beneath the giant fleece he bought because you’re always catching a random chill. It probably has something to do with low iron levels and leaving the window open in the winter. He briefly considers buying supplements but the thought is lost as soon as it forms when his eyes catch on the distracting length of your leg peeking out of the fuzzy blanket. It’s a wide expanse of bare skin that belies a lack of pants or at least anything beyond another pair of those damningly short shorts you love to wear around the house. There’s the fleeting thought that your aversion to longer pants might also be a contributing factor to your constant chill but he isn’t about to mention it. You’ve never had any qualms about going against things he says, but it’ll be just his luck that you actually decide to start wearing pants around the house and then where would he be? 

Infinity makes his footsteps imperceptible, especially with the adage of the downy carpet. There isn’t even a twitch of your lashes as he crouches in front of you, staring at your face half buried in the blanket before he reaches out to touch your leg. There’s no need for him to have his Infinity up in the house, but it’s habitual at this point, as easy as breathing. It’s the dropping it that always gives him pause. After going so many hours, day after day, never truly touching anything, it always feels like he’s relaxing a tense muscle when his barrier comes down. Not necessarily painful but palpable. The same way you can always smell when a storm is coming, Gojo can feel when his Infinity dissipates even though it’s intangible by nature. And once it’s gone he can feel everything. Hot or cold, the temperature never really matters because he’s always in his little bubble of body heat, but now he can feel the artificial rush of the vents pumping out waves of warm air and the slightest chill from the open window. 

Goosebumps rise over your skin as he traces his finger up the length of your leg. The jut of your ankle, the slope of your calf and the curve of your knee to settle over the softness of your thigh. You’re warm in a way that’s different from the blasting heat. Soft and comforting and Gojo tries not to dwell on what that might mean for his constant lack of physical contact. He drops his Infinity on occasion. Especially to interact with you or his students that are doing nothing but feeding into his desire for fatherhood, but it’s still few and far between. More often than not, Gojo is locked inside the untouchable barrier of his cursed technique. It’s not exactly loneliness that he’s feeling but some type of longing that makes him settle next to the couch so he can lay his cheek against your leg and just feel. His Six Eyes still tries to tell him things, outlining the shape of your body buried elusively beneath the blankets in a silhouette of cursed energy, but he closes his mind to it as best he can.  

It’s always been something unspoken between you; your level of cursed energy. You ended up a bit like Nanami, a bit like Suguru, turning your back on jujutsu for your own reasons. He’s never forced you to come back, never really even asked why you left because he doesn’t exactly care. All Gojo needs to know is that you’re happier with your life as it is, living as a non-sorcerer. He can’t really wrap his head around your love of working retail when it’s such a mixed bag of benign and volatile customers, annoying bosses, and ridiculous hours from what you tell him. But it’s leagues safer than fieldwork and Gojo isn’t about to be the one to coax you back into active duty. He barely tolerates when the higher ups call you in to do menial managerial tasks when the school is shorthanded. 

Their excuse for still keeping you on the payroll even after all these years always boils down to something about death being the only way a sorcerer ever really leaves the business. As if jujutsu society is some kind of yakuza holding members hostage. The people in charge act like sorcery is an inescapable cult and Gojo will be glad when he’s done tearing them down from the inside out. And as if you can sense him working himself up even in your sleep, Gojo watches your lashes pinch and flutter before a hand comes slinking out of your fuzzy cocoon to settle on his head. Your eyes are still closed but the momentary tension leaves your brow as soon as your fingers skim over his hair. No Infinity, only comfort. 

“What’s wrong, baby?” It’s always so instinctual the way you reach out to him. You always have an innate ability to tell when he’s falling and needs catching. Even just the sound of your voice, low and thickened with sleep, is enough to banish any worries from his mind. At least for the moment. 

“Nothing,” he says just to hear you mumble back “it’s something,” like you always do when he lies about what’s on his mind. It isn’t a matter of trust because Gojo trusts you with his life. He just doesn’t want to plague you with all the things he’s mulling over. It’s really only important to him. You’ve already declared your disinterest in sorcery, he’s not about to force you to listen to him formulating a plan to reform jujutsu society. And besides, he can’t have you worrying because it isn’t good to worry when you’re pregnant. Something about stress not being good for the baby. Sure, you aren’t pregnant yet, but he can see it coming in the near future. 

It’s not like he’s worn you down, you’ve always been way too steadfast to be bending to anyone’s whims. It’s more so just that it’s time. That ever constant “soon” looming closer and closer on the horizon. 

“Quit your job,” Gojo says, sounding every bit like a petulant child. Finally, your eyes open. Just barely, only enough to give him a hazily unimpressed look. 

“I know that’s not what you were thinking about.” He knows you know, but he also knows you won’t press him on it. Even when you were an active sorcerer, there were just some things you didn’t want to know about for plausible deniability’s sake. No need to get your hands dirty, especially now that you’re not even active anymore. Gojo’s strong enough to take on the consequences of his actions, strong enough to keep you safe from the fallout of his decisions. And anyway, he’s far more concerned with his personal life at the moment. What he does at work becomes virtually irrelevant the second he’s alone with you. 

“It’s what I’m thinking about now!” He’s whining because it’s really all he has on his mind now. The idea of coming home from a long day of work and being greeted by the pattering of little feet as your babies rush to meet him at the door. He imagines them all chubby cheeked and starry eyed, pushing to be the first one he hugs when he gets home. He’s annoyingly fixated on the thought and thumps his forehead against your thigh, knocking against you over and over until you’re fisting your fingers in his hair to keep him still. 

“You’re annoying.” You mean it but he can hear the endearment in your voice. And just to really get on your nerves, Gojo starts pouting. 

“I’m lonely.” It’s true in a way he doesn’t want to admit. Never mind the fact that he has his cheek pressed against your leg, arms wrapped tight around your thigh. There’s always been that nagging sense of loneliness. The looming feeling that something is missing. Children or something else, Gojo doesn’t know. But he does know that he wants babies. Your babies. Preferably sometime in the very near future if you’ll let him. 

“Lonely? Then what am I?” He feels you flex your leg as if to remind him that there’s no space for loneliness between his skin and yours. But there’s a hint of something in your voice, that heaviness of unspoken acknowledgment. You’ve known him for so long, been together for so many years. Some things don’t need to be said for you to know. It’s innate, intrinsic. And he loves you for it. You’re everything to him, but what he decides to say is,

“The mother of my children.” There’s desperation in his voice but Gojo doesn’t care to be embarrassed. He’s been stuck on this for most of your relationship and he isn’t about to get flustered asking for what he wants for the umpteenth time. You haven’t shamed him the first thousand times he’s asked so he isn’t expecting to get teased on attempted one thousand and one. 

“I’m not pregnant yet.” Gojo perks up. That’s new. The two of you have had this conversation in some variation at least once a week for months now and Gojo has grown used to all the answers you usually give him. It’s always something like “not yet,” or “let’s wait a little while longer.” And he does wait, but he’s also woefully impatient. Gojo knows you’re not pregnant and that’s the torture of it all. You’ve already said you’ll have his children. Kissed his forehead and reminded him that not now doesn’t mean not even whenever he gets particularly sulky after being told to be patient. It’s always just a matter of when but he’s eager for when to be now. And something about your answer makes him look at you with wide eyes. 

I’m not pregnant yet. It’s teasingly open-ended, like you’re taunting him with the knowledge that you’re not pregnant but you could be. But Gojo knows you wouldn’t tease him like that. Not about this. He’s always been a tad bit overzealous in his pursuit of babies but that’s because he wants it so bad, and he knows you wouldn’t be cruel enough to taunt him with it. He trails a hand up your thigh, dipping beneath the blanket as he maps out the curve of your hip. A shiver runs through your body as his fingers dip under the hem of your shorts. 

“Not pregnant… yet?” It’s hopeful. A question lingering in his tone. Is it time? Will today be the day? You smile, going back to petting his head, and that’s all the answer he needs. “You looking to change that, mama?” 

“I’ve been waiting for you to ask again,” you tease. “Thought you kept track of my ovulation window.” You’ve been waiting? Gojo’s heart stutters in his chest. All he had to do was ask. It’s always been that way really. He’s been begging you for so long because he knew it was just a matter of asking when, but after so long of being told to wait a while it seems almost too good to be true hearing you say you’re ready now. 

“You better be serious.” He knows you are because you know how desperate he’s been for it, but he can’t help but want to hear you say it again. Hear you ask in so many words. He’s always begging and pleading and Gojo wants to hear you want it just as plainly as he does. 

“Don’t make me beg, Satoru.” It isn’t what he wants to hear but he scoops you and your blanket into his arms even still. He’s got all the time in the world to hear you ask for it and he’s not about to delay it any longer just because you want to play coy. He can see it in the way you’re biting at your lips trying to hide a smile, feel it in the way your arms wind around his neck. There’s a slight tremor to your hand as you run your fingertips up the column of his neck. He can almost hear the way your heartbeat has spiked, blood swelling with desire as he lays you down in his bed. It’ll be your bed soon because there’s no way he’s about to spend even a second more than necessary away from you. He’s been begging to get rid of your apartment for almost as long as he’s been wanting a baby, and Gojo is looking to have it all in one fell swoop. 

“Gonna have to move in with me, mama,” he reminds you. Marriage is a more amorphous thought. Really it’s just a piece of paper that will serve to complicate your lives. He’s the head of a clan and his wife will have certain expectations imposed upon her that he doesn’t want to wrestle with right now. Maybe later, when he’s made things better. But for now he’s happy just having you. You don’t have to be a Gojo just yet because you’re his regardless. You’re in his bed, wearing his clothes, wanting to have his baby. Gojo can’t put a bigger mark on you than that but he’ll sure as hell try as his mouth latches onto the sensitive skin of your neck. You make that same gasping sound you always do, a little shiver running through your body as your hands find his hair again. Your grip is tighter than before, pulling at the roots as he digs his teeth into your delicate skin. Usually he’d be more careful about where he’s putting his little love bites but he can’t bring himself to care right now, and you don’t seem to mind. 

“You gonna ask for it, mama? I’m not gonna give it to you if you don’t ask for it properly.” As much as he’s been begging for it, Gojo won’t settle for anything less than hearing you tell him exactly what you want from him. All he’s been hearing is you telling him to wait, so he’s not giving you anything without explicit permission. Of course you take your time with that, too, and Gojo is more than happy to indulge you. It’s like running a marathon and finally seeing the finish line so close within reach. He can count the steps, the breaths, the heartbeats it will take until he crosses the line and finally, finally gets what he wants. It’s what you want too, or else you wouldn’t have said anything. It’s easy to provoke him when it comes to this and he hasn’t heard exactly what he wants yet, but he’s still keen to get you out of your clothes. And for all your smirking silence, you let him. Lifting your hips and arching your back as he strips you out of your clothes. 

For a moment, all he can do is savor the sight. His girl laid out on his bed, so close to asking for his child. You squeak when his nose presses into the space between your breasts, skin cold without his Infinity to regulate his temperature but he’ll be warm soon enough. Already he’s soaking in the heat pouring off your skin. You’re that fuzzy sort of warm that comes with the first waves of wakefulness, eyes still half-lidded and skin nearly feverish as he rubs his cheek against your bare chest. You smell nice. A perfect balance between his scent and your own, mingled together in a heady fragrance that has his tongue drawing wet streaks across your skin. He shivers as you thumb at the nape of his neck, brushing over the cropped hair at the back of his head because you can’t get enough of the feeling. Gojo is almost certain he’ll be just as insistent with touching your stomach when you start to show. 

He can already imagine how you’ll look. Only a few months pregnant, belly just starting to show. In his shirts you’d look the same as you always do. They hang so big off your frame that no one would be able to tell what was growing beneath it. But he’d know. And when you got bigger the whole world would know. Belly round and breasts heavy, whole body changing to accommodate the little life you made together. Gojo already can’t stay off you and he imagines your first pregnancy will shatter what little is left of his restraint. 

“You’ll tell me what I wanna hear, right, mama?” He murmurs against your stomach. He kisses around your naval, moving lower to dig his fingers into the thickness of your hips. You return the favor, running a hand through his hair until your grip tightens, pulling his eyes towards you. It sends a stinging twinge of pleasure down his spine, scalp prickling beneath your rough treatment as he stares up at you. He realizes you’re holding so tight because you need something to ground you. He can feel the way you’re squirming beneath his weight, hips shifting awkwardly as he pins you down with his bright blue gaze. Gojo has always been so open about wanting to start a family yet you can hardly articulate the words to ask him. It’s what you both want, but after so long saying no he can imagine how hard it is to fix your lips to say yes. It’ll be hard to collar him again once you let him off the leash. 

“Satoru,” he nearly melts at the sound of his name on your tongue. The way you say it with such sweet reverence. He can hear the affection in every syllable. “I want it.” It isn’t some heartfelt confession but it’s just as sincere, and Gojo hasn’t exactly been asking for it in the most romantic terms. You aren’t begging yet but it’s a start. A slow one compared to how feverish he’s been in his desire to get you pregnant but it’s enough for the moment. He can hear threads popping with how quickly he works to get your clothes off. It’s his shirt anyway and he has the money to buy you as many new sets of underwear that you want for nearly ripping your panties in half as he yanks them down your thighs. The poor lace is mangled as you kick it off your ankle but he doesn’t hear you complaining. In fact, you’re giggling. Laughing and smiling so pretty as he kisses your knee. 

“What’s so funny, baby?” He asks. You poke him square in the forehead as he looks up at you. 

“You are.” You’re still laughing. “You’re like a damn puppy.” It’s not the first time you’ve called him that but it makes him smile every time. He presses his grinning lips against your skin and smiles wider when you call him a weirdo as he licks the inside of your thigh. 

“Don’t complain now. In a few minutes you’re gonna want my tongue all over you.” His tone is joking but he watches the word land. The way you go quiet, nipping at your lip to hide your smile behind a shy pout. He can feel your thigh flexing as he rests his head against your leg, squirming at just the thought of him touching you. Gojo has regained some of his control, reigning in his eagerness so he doesn’t get overzealous. The last thing he’d want is to hurt you. He wants the conception of his first baby–all his babies–to be perfect. Even if it’s him that’s asking for it, it’s not really about him. It’s about you. Your body. You’re the one that’s going to be going through the woes of pregnancy, so the least Gojo can do is make the prelude feel good. He kisses your leg again, sinking his face into the soft skin, absolutely melting as he frames himself between your thighs.

There’s an ease to the way his arms hook behind your knees, pulling you down the bed until you’re flush against his face. The sound you make when his nose nudges at your clit has his head going hazy, empty to anything that isn’t you. Sleep still clings around the edges as you moan his name, a low hum that’s steeped in fading fatigue. He can feel your body rising to full consciousness, finally catching up with your mind as your legs shift along the curve of his shoulders. 

You’re still so warm, that sleepy heat lingering as your thighs close around his head the moment he wraps his lips around your clit. He’s only got his lips on you for a second and you’re already squirming, half trying to run away from his mouth. Gojo laughs, the sound rolling off his tongue to tease at your clit. You whine, pushing at his head even as your thighs pull him closer. He whines when you scramble far enough to get away from his mouth, glassy eyes staring up at you like you just slapped him across the face. There’s tears sparkling in your eyes as you look down at him, brows furrowed and lips caught between your teeth. Gojo leans in again, real slow like you won’t notice if he moves at a steady pace. You whimper and start squirming again the second his lips brush against your skin. He tries to be gentle, kissing over the swollen hood of your clit as his tongue parts your sticky lips. A faint, whimpered “wait!” falls from your lips and Gojo pulls away, forcing back a groan, trying not to look at the way your pussy is drooling on his sheets. 

He presses a kiss over the curve of your mound, doing anything to distract himself from thinking about where he really wants his mouth to be. The mess of your arousal is drying sticky on his lips, leaving glossy little prints as he kisses across your stomach. 

“What do you need, baby? Tell me.” His voice is breathless, muffled against your chest as he crawls up your body. You’re still trying to pull him closer and push him away, thighs locked around his waist even as you knot a fist in his hair to pull him away from your pert little nipples. 

“Fucking tease,” he mumbles against your collarbone, void of any true malice. It would almost be amusing if he wasn’t nearly vibrating out of his skin with the strength it’s taking to restrain himself. 

He can’t help but grind against you when you pull him into a kiss. It’s a heated mess of tongue and teeth, barely passing for affection. It’s desperation on the cusp of frenzied aggression as he grinds against you, cursing at the barrier of fabric between you. You’re already clawing at his shirt and there’s no mistaking the sound as Gojo shreds the fabric to be closer to you. His pants are a bit harder to contend with, made infinitely more difficult with the way you’re all but fucking him through the fabric, legs locked so tight that he can barely inch his hand between you to shove the last piece of distance between you out of the way. He knows the moment you register his skin against yours. You’re babbling, close to tears as you whimper his name. It’s a broken mantra that sounds so sweet on your lips. He only gets his pants down to his knees before you’re shoving his hand out of the way. He nearly misses the determined mumble of “make it fit,” too focused on the way your hand feels wrapped around his dick. 

It snaps him back to focus for a second. Long enough to worry about you hurting yourself without his fingers to stretch you open first. But all thoughts melt from his mind the moment you guide his dick between your thighs. He can feel the last threads of his self control unwinding bit by bit as you clumsily guide him where you want him. It’s a messy drag up and down your slit before he catches against your entrance. He can feel how eager you are, clenching at his head as he grips at your hips to keep you still. 

“Just the tip,” he stutters even as you groan out your despair. “Be patient, baby, you’re gonna hurt yourself.” He still has the taste of you on the back of his tongue, that orgasm that you ruined for yourself. He can feel the way you’re still trying to pull him in closer, heels digging into the small of his back to no avail. Gojo is stronger than you. The strongest ever. And even when he’s on the cusp of coming–pitiful when he’s barely inside you–he can keep himself from giving into temptation if it means keeping you from harm. Even if you want it now, you’ll be cursing and whining about how sore you are later and he wants this to be a good memory. It’s messy and fast but he can still practically see the hearts in your eyes when he looks down at you. Then you smile and he knows he’s a goner. 

“I’m gonna come,” Gojo says without a shred of embarrassment. He’s long past that as he feels your pussy suck at the tip of his cock. He doesn’t go any deeper, still feeding you shallow thrusts as he goes over the edge. It’s a disappointment to watch the steaks of white spilling out of you when he pulls back, sticky threads still clinging between you. 

“Gotta keep it inside, mama,” he murmurs, already cleaning up the mess with his fingers. Your hand is on his shoulder the second he curls his fingers inside you. Pushing and pulling as your nails scratch across his skin. Only you can ever leave marks on him, only you can ever touch him like this. He gets drunk off the thought, balancing himself on his forearm as he presses his forehead against yours. Your face is wet, smeared with tears and spit and sweat. You look dewy in the lowlight, eyes glittering up at him. It’s muscle memory getting you to the edge. He knows just where to press, just how deep you need it. It’s so second nature that Gojo nearly forgets he’s got his fingers inside you until you shove your hand between your bodies, rubbing desperately at your neglected clit until your back is arching, pressing your chest against his. He can feel your heart fluttering behind your breasts as your nipples skim over his bare skin. 

When you finally sag against the sheets, coming down from the high, your hand slinks over his shoulder until you’re cupping his cheek. Gojo leans into the touch like it’s the last thing he’ll ever feel. 

“It’s time, Satoru,” you say, voice soft and breathless. “Let’s have a baby.” 

The sound he makes sounds pitifully desperate even to his own ears but Gojo can’t bring himself to stifle his voice. He only gets louder when he’s inside you again. An orgasm has you loosened enough to take him now, pulling him in with three deep strokes.

“Just like that, mama,” he murmurs. You’re less erratic now, far calmer after coming once already. “Not running now, are you?” You have the nerve to look bashful, looking away as he rubs his hands down your sides. It’s easy to guide you now, to get you to follow his rhythm as he bottoms out inside you with each thrust. There’s something so enamored about your eyes as you stare up at him. Dazed and half-lidded, full of adoration as you catch his arm where he’s holding your hips. The adoration that floods through him the moment he feels your thumb brushing against his wrist is enough to nearly choke him. Fuck, he wants to marry you. Wants you to be his in every way possible. But there’s still a thousand things he needs to do first. Things to make the world better for you and your baby. His eyes fall to your stomach, vision almost doubling from how hard he’s staring at your tummy. There’ll be a baby in there soon. His baby. Gojo feels himself getting close at the thought. 

“Eyes on me, baby.” It’s a sound like music as you call his attention back to your face. Something you only say when his eyes are closed. He was lost in his dreams of the future. Of babies with his name and your face. 

“I’m here,” he assures you, panting the words against your parted lips in a messy imitation of a kiss. Words are spilled in a slurred litany between soaked mouths with no clear distinction between either whining voice. The sentiment is the same no matter which one of you is saying it. I love you, I love you, I love you. 

“What do you want?” Gojo feels himself murmuring. It’s a hushed mumbling that comes as the end of a long drawl of your name, so low that the syllables come out as graveled sounds against the edge of your ear. Still, you answer to the barest hint of his voice, back bowing off the bed like you’re drawn towards him like a flower to the sun. His arm fills the space, wrapping around your waist. He can feel the way you shiver on the cusp of falling over the edge, can hear it in your voice as you babble your answer of, “you, you, you, just you!” 

“My babies?” He can’t help but goad and tease even though he’s so deep inside you that there’s no question of what you want from him. Still, you answer. Clawing at his shoulders as you do. 

“Yes, Satoru! Your babies, only yours!” It lights something deep and possessive in his chest as he reaches a hand down to rub the shape of his name on your clit. It’s the best he can offer with no ring, no wedding. Writing his name on your skin, pressing his mark into every corner of your body until he can do it the right way. 

“My babies. My girl.” He sets his teeth against the skin of your throat, tasting the sweat as the sound of your voice vibrates across his tongue. There’s no mistake of what you want when you come. Your legs lock tight around him like he’d try to run from the way you’re milking his cock. Squeeze tight like you never want him to leave. He squeezes you tighter in turn, fingers pressed tight against the shivering column of your spine. He spells his name there too, tracing each muscle as they move under his fingertips. He feels your hands in his hair again, scratching at the back of his head. It’s a feeling he’s come to associate with comfort–with you–and it’s enough to throw him headlong over the edge. 

When he tosses his head back, cursing towards the ceiling, your hand is still there to catch him. Brushing against the nape of his neck as your nose tucks up under his chin. He feels your lips wet and hot against the place his pulse is racing in his throat, and knows you can feel each whining pant of your name as it falls from his lips. It’s the only word he knows as his stomach flexes, ropes of come spilling inside you. So much that it starts to leak out in a dribbling mess. Gojo is quick to pull you up, struggling to his knees so he can keep his come where it needs to be. He’s still pulsing inside you, achy from the sensitivity as your walls squeeze around him. You start squirming as the high fades, wiggling in his hold and mumbling about “put me down.” 

Gojo hikes one of your legs higher, pressing a kiss to your ankle. “Can’t, mama. Gotta keep it in or it won’t stick.” 

He placates you with another orgasm, thumbing at your clit until you’re whining and shivering. He can feel the dull pulses as it washes over you, clenching his dick as he softens inside you. You’re so warm that it feels like he’s melting but Gojo can’t suffer the thought of pulling out just yet. But he does finally let you down. He follows you as you sprawl across the rumpled bedding, resting his head against your chest. He nuzzles against your breast until you snap at him to quit it when he sneaks a nipple into his mouth. He pulls away with a pout, kissing across your chest because he can still feel the way your heart is hammering behind your ribs. Your skin is hot beneath his lips and tacky with sweat but he can feel the goosebumps starting to rise with each kiss. 

A car honks outside. The sound carries from down the hall where, somewhere in the apartment, a window is still open. A draft blows in through the half-open bedroom door. He’s not cold yet, but he can feel the shivers starting as you cling to him, soaking up the warmth of his body. He lets you pull him in, reveling in the closeness. 

“Puppy,” you mumble affectionately as he nuzzles closer. You press kisses to his eyebrow, the bridge of his nose, the corner of his mouth. Places only you can touch. Even without his Infinity, people act like Gojo’s face–his eyes–are something beyond human. Sometimes he feels like something divine and untouchable but then your lips press softly against his eyelids and he’s suddenly just a man. A desperate, possessive man. He catches your mouth against his, licking at the seam of your lips until they part to let him taste your tongue against his. When he’s done he takes the liberty of licking a bead of sweat from your temple and you push him away, whining about him being gross. 

“S’not gross,” he pouts. “I love you.” He says it like an explanation. Like everything he does can trace back to the fact that he can’t breathe if he goes without touching you for too long. Tasting your sweat is one of the tamer things he’s done to prove his love. Sometimes Gojo wonders if you forget that he’d burn the world down for you. Then he remembers that he’s already doing it. For you, for your baby. For himself. His hand squeezes between your bodies to press against your stomach. Soon, he smiles at the thought. Now. 

“You should eat something, baby.” He hears you talking, hears the concern in that soft, satisfied tone, but you’re stroking his hair like you’d rather he fall asleep against your chest. 

“C’mon,” you say when he doesn’t move, patting where your nails left scratches across his shoulders. “I’ll make you food and then we can go again later.” Gojo chokes on his breath with how fast he’s trying to get his words out. “Calm down, baby, I know it takes more than once to make a baby.” 

Gojo watches you grab his shirt off the floor–the one he just took off, not the one you’d been wearing all day–tucking your nose into the collar as you waddle to the bathroom with your knees hugged tight to keep the mess he made from dripping on the carpet. Fuck, he wants to marry you. The look you give him when you come out of the en-suite, eyeing the way he’s tenting the sheets just thinking about his come spilling out of you does little to make him feel ashamed. He waits long enough for his body to calm down before he’s pulling on a pair of shorts and joining you in the kitchen. You’re bouncing around in front of the stove, making eggs even though it’s late in the evening. Gojo crosses his legs and tries not to imagine that you’re making breakfast before school, waiting for your oldest to finish getting dressed as you bounce your youngest on your hip. 

“You want pancakes?” He must nod because you start making batter. 

“You gotta move in with me,” Gojo reminds you, eyes watching the way your–his!–shirt hikes up every time you lift your arms too high, conspicuously checking for a peek of what’s hidden just beneath the black fabric. 

“My lease is up in like two weeks.” And just like with your teasing not pregnant yet, Gojo knows he has you. For good. Happiness suddenly smells like freshly fallen snow and maple syrup. 

[billiereid]

Toys: Haikyuu!! x Reader

Warnings: Rated X. This content is intended for readers ages 18 years or older. Minors, do not interact.

Featuring: Toru Oikawa. Hajime Iwaizumi. Wakatoshi Ushijima. Satori Tendo. Fem!Reader.

Contains: Phone sex. Dom/sub dynamics. Begging. Voyeurism / Exhibitionism. Use of vibrators and/or dildos. Overstimulation. Sadist!Tendo. Mention of penetrative sex.

Summary: The subject of toys in the bedroom can be controversial. Everyone seems to have their own opinions, especially when their partner is involved. Here's how I think some of the Haikyuu!! men would feel about their female partner having a toy.

Author's Note: This is written post-timeskip. All characters are written to be adults.

Toru Oikawa

He was the person suggesting them in the first place.

Oikawa is away for his volleyball games all the time. So the two of you picked out a couple to use while he’s away. 

When you’re together, he loves watching you get desperate with a vibrator on your clit.

And when he’s away, he has a hard time keeping his hands off himself when he hears you over the phone. 

The squelch of your hot, sticky, wet pussy. Your soft moans. 

And there are a few things you can say to get him really desperate and needy, all for you. 

“Please, Toru,” you whimpered into the phone, tucked between your cheek and the pillow. “Need more… Iss not enough…” Your words were slurred, but Oikawa heard them all the same. He could hear the buzzing of a vibrator in the background. He knew which one it was, of course.

Toru’s voice shook as he spoke, and you knew he was stroking himself vigorously. “Aw, sweet girl,” he cooed, trying to maintain his dominant persona. But when his mind was filled with the sensation of your sweet sex clenching around him, it was hard not to whimper out loud. “It’s not enough? You miss my cock that bad?”

“Yes! Yes, miss you s’much,” you blurted out, your voice getting more and more desperate as the seconds pass. “Wanna come for your cock…”

Oikawa did his best to stifle his voice, but a slutty moan still dripped from his lips as you begged for him. “Oh babygirl,” he groaned. “Don’t worry. When I get home I’m gonna make you come so hard you can’t walk straight.”

Hajime Iwaizumi

He was a little bit intimidated by the fact that you have a toy.

The idea that something besides him could bring you so much pleasure is…

Well…

Disconcerting to him.

But then he walked in on you while you’re using it.

And he was s m i t t e n.

Both of you seemed to be frozen in time.

Iwaizumi was home early from a training session. He wasn’t supposed to be home yet. You were having a little bit of alone time. You hadn’t even heard the front door to your shared apartment open and shut. You didn’t even realize he was home until the door to your shared bedroom swung open, allowing the golden light from the hallway to pour into the dark room.

He saw you then. Wide eyes. Face flushed with pleasure. Wand attached to your clit. Pussy leaking with your arousal. You were frozen in time, startled by seeing him so abruptly in such a vulnerable position.

“Fuck, baby…” he uttered in a whisper, almost a growl. He didn’t dare move yet, wanting to burn this image into his memory for the rest of time. After a moment, he lets his duffle bag fall to the floor and takes a couple of steps toward the bed, eyes trained on your weeping pussy. He couldn’t tear his gaze away, couldn’t bear the thought.

He sat on the bed, roughly tugging his dick free from his shorts and boxers. “Don’t fucking stop,” Hajime uttered quietly, as if being too loud was going to ruin the moment. “I wanna see you come.”

Wakatoshi Ushijima

He enjoys the fact that you have toys.

But he will very rarely use them on you. 

It isn’t that he doesn’t like them, or that he doesn’t want to.

He just doesn’t usually think about it.

But if you ask…

This man will literally do anything you ask.

You had been so unbelievably sweet when you asked. 

Ushijima couldn’t say no to you. Not when you were laid underneath him in just your panties, looking up at him with those eyes… 

And now, here you were, laid underneath him. Your legs were wrapped around his waist. He was buried inside you to the hilt, thrusting slowly. He held a wand to your clit. He could feel the powerful vibrations on his dick. He was desperate now, watching you squirm and whimper under the overwhelming pleasure he was giving you. 

You had come at least four times now, but Wakatoshi wasn’t stopping. In this moment, he was obsessed with the way you twitched underneath him. And that feeling only intensified when your cunt started gushing around his dick.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he groaned, almost mindlessly. “You look so fucking gorgeous like this…”

Satori Tendo

He’s a sadist if I ever did see one.

In all seriousness, he loves toys in the bedroom.

He never does last very long on his own.

So he likes to torture you with toys first, so he can make the moment last as long as possible.

How long had it been? How many times had you already come?

You had lost track. It seemed like hours that you had laid underneath Tendo on the bed. Your squirt covered your thighs, your ass, the sheets beneath you, and Satori’s face and hands. Your eyes were glassy, your face flushed, your legs trembling as you did your best to keep them spread. There was a fresh, red handprint on your inner thigh where he had punished you for letting them fall closed before. 

But he hadn’t lost track. No, he was keeping a very detailed count of how many times you came, how many times you squirted, how many times the pleasure had brought tears to your eyes. Which toys made you come the hardest, which ones made your eyes roll back, which ones made your legs shake, and which ones made you squirt. The selection of toys he had used was spread out on the bed next to you, each one more covered in your slick and come than the last. 

Finally, you watch Tendo take off his boxers. Even with your tired, glassy eyes, you could see how hard it was. It was an angry shade of red, the veins prominent up and down the length. You wondered if it hurt him to be that hard, but he didn’t seem to mind. He lifted your legs over his shoulders, practically bending you in half as he leaned down and whispered in your ear, “You think you can come one more time for me?”

[sweetdispatch]

Rookie love - C. Bedard

Next door hearts

pairing: Connor Bedard x Hughes!reader

summary: You and Connor live in the same building and work for Blackhawks. Slowly, you two are falling for each other and he made a cute date for you

warning: none

words: 2.5k

note: my first connor fic yay! based on this request and honestly it lowkey makes me want to do a whole AU with this theme haha

---

It was a tough decision for you. You were just an 18 year old girl who decided to move out all the way to Chicago to study public relations. You could stay in Michigan but the vision of being compared to your older brothers, Quinn and Luke who also had been studying there, wasn’t tempting. You wanted to work on your own brand and name far away from there.

Your parents weren’t the happiest when you announced your decision because you were the youngest kid and with your moving to Chicago, it meant that they will be alone without any kids around. Despite the fact, they had your back and fully supported you and understood your point of view. They even helped you to rent an apartment so you don’t have to live in a dorm. 

Quinn, Jack and Luke weren’t surprised when you shared the news with them, knowing how much you had been struggling in high school with questions about them and being used by your “friends” in the past only because you had famous siblings. Quinn proposed that you can always move to him in Vancouver but you wanted to be independent and the vision of moving to Canada wasn’t something you were craving. 

The year you arrived in Chicago, Connor started playing in his rookie season for the Blackhawks. In fact, he was your neighbor and lived right across the hall from you. He also moved there without his family and had to be independent. At first, you didn’t care about it. You were always saying hello to each other when you two saw each other in the hall but nothing more.

Things changed with time when thanks to your great results in college you got an internship in social media for the Chicago Blackhawks. You were excited and grateful for the opportunity. Your dream always was to work in social media and being capable of doing this in a hockey team when you were raised in a hockey family was incredible. You called your parents to tell them about this and they were proud of you. Finally, your hard work paid off.

In January, you started your internship and quickly became one of the most important people in creating content for social media. Thanks to your young age, new ideas and jumping into trends, the Chicago Blackhawks became one of the best teams in social media. Fans loved the content and people rooting for other teams also found it funny. 

Connor was 1st overall pick and star of the team so you pushed him to do some of the videos for the social media. He wasn’t the happiest because he was shy in front of the camera but you always tried your hardest to make him feel as comfortable as possible. You were also a shy person and you totally understood him. He was delighted to have you as a support and creating content with you wasn’t as scary as it was earlier. 

You and Connor lived in the same apartment building and always were returning from his training or games together. He was more than happy to give you a ride back home. In the first two weeks of your internship, you two bonded and became friends. Both of you had been the same age and lived alone, far away from parents. During roadies, you were staying in Chicago since you had college and many times you received texts from Connor.

They tell me to do this and I don’t want to.

Why have you abandoned me? 

Can you tell them to leave me alone? 

Promise me that you’ll go on the next roadie so I can have support from you behind the camera.

With every message like that, your heart was growing bigger. You didn’t know how much of an impact you have on him and feeling comfortable. You wanted to be there for him but you couldn’t drop college because Connor was shy. You promised him to talk with the others to leave him alone during away games but it wasn’t in your competence to dictate who’s gonna be on the video.

While Connor was away, you were taking care of his apartment and basically cleaned and cooked for him in your free time. When you entered his place for the first time, you could tell that he’s struggling being alone just like you and you wanted him to feel that he has someone on who he can lay on. You had experience with boys since you had three brothers and knew what to do so he could open up. 

Connor was more than grateful to have you. At first, he thought that you’re just a social media girl who’s living in the same building but with time, he saw how much you’re doing for him inside and outside of the work. He wanted to pay you back and always surprised you with flowers and coffee when he knew that you had a rough day in college. 

These small gestures turned into daily dinners and movies. After games, Connor was taking you out on a dinner to later finish the day with a movie in your apartment. It was a cute but meaningful moment between you two. You started talking more and more, he finally opened up and felt that he has a real friend and is not alone. 

Both of you were falling for each other. You two had similar personalities and tried to stay out of the spotlight. You were Connor’ biggest fan and he was your rock. Almost every single day you two were seeing each other even if it meant only for 5 minutes. He knew your schedule perfectly and always tried to give you a donut with coffee before you were heading on college. You also knew his schedule and after every roadie, you were at his apartment preparing meals for him, knowing that he must be tired from flying around America and Canada. It was like an unwritten rule between you. 

When you had been working with the Blackhawks, Connor was more than happy to see you there and was willing to do a content with you. The rest of the team was surprised but no one questioned it. They all thought that it’s because he feels more comfortable around you since you are the same age. It was partially true. He was willing to do content while you were around because he loved to spend time with you. 

Connor’ teammates and other people working in social media never noticed anything unusual in the behaviour between you two. You two kept the friendship and feeling privately and shared it when only two of you were alone. In March, your internship was over but the team offered you full time work in social media. You were beyond happy for this and couldn’t wait for the 2024-2025 season to start so you can work there. 

When you told this to Connor, he smiled like a kid in a candy store. At first, he was sad that you won’t be around for the next 1,5 months but after he heard that you’ll be working there full time, he was the happiest person. You were confident that he was happier about this than you. In that moment, he gained confidence to ask you out on a date. You gladly accepted his invitation and the two of you spent an incredible evening the next day. 

After the season was over for Chicago, Connor decided to stay there for a little longer knowing that you have exams in May. You were always there for him in his lows and highs and he wanted to do the same for you. He was hanging out in your apartment all the time, even if that meant that he had to watch a tv show while you’re studying. Those silent, cute moments made him realise that he wants you as his girlfriend. 

Connor started planning a cute date after your exams when he could ask you to be his girlfriend. In the past 5 months, you two shared a lot of moments together and learned a lot about each other. That’s why instead of a boring date in a restaurant, he planned a day full of attractions to ask you to be his at the end. He was proud of himself but also scared of your reaction. 

“Since we're leaving in a couple of days I was thinking that maybe we could spend a day together?” Connor asked you in the middle of a movie that you two had been watching. 

“But we’re already spending everyday together” You giggled and saw redness growing on his face.

“Yeah but I was thinking about going out, more like… exploring the city” He replied shyly and you smiled at him. 

“I would love that, do you have a plan what to do or are we gonna figure it out tomorrow?” You asked excitedly. 

“I… I actually have a plan already but if you want we can change it” Connor started to ramble and you stopped him.

“We don’t have to, I trust you with your plan” 

“Great, umm how about I’ll pick you around 10AM tomorrow?” 

“Sounds perfect” You smiled and the two of you returned to watching a movie. 

It’s now or never Connor thought.

As Connor promised, he knocked at your door at 10AM. He had flowers in his hand that he bought earlier. He was nervous but he knew there’s nothing scary in you but he was still overthinking this whole day. You opened the door and welcomed him. He was in awe of how gorgeous you looked in your dress. From the nerves, he kept the flowers in his hand instead of giving them to you. 

“Are those flowers for me?” You asked shyly.

“Yeah, sorry” He gave you the flowers and you quickly put them in a vase.

“Shall we go?” You asked him. 

“Yes, I’m right behind you” 

Two of you left your apartment and went into a parking lot. Connor opened the passenger door for you and you thanked him. All the nerves went out of him when you started talking to him about your summer plans. It felt natural between the two of you. The next 20 minutes you were talking about how you are gonna spend the free months. He stopped the car and opened the door for you. 

“I know you didn’t have breakfast so I thought it would be nice to grab donuts and coffee and go to the park” Connor said and you smiled at him. 

“You know me too well” You joked.

Connor ordered your favorite donuts and coffee and you were smiling all the time standing next to him because he remembered those little details about you. When you two got the order, you walked into a park and sat on a bench while eating and joking. After you finished your breakfast, he stood up and you followed him. For the next hour, you two have been walking around the park with coffee in your hands. 

When Connor saw that you’re getting tired, he knew it’s time for another attraction. You two went to his car and he drove you to a place that you always wanted to visit but never had time. It was the Museum of Illusion and it was on your bucket list to get here one day. You were surprised that he remembered this detail because you told him about it months ago. 

You were so excited to go there and Connor was excited for you. For another couple hours you two had been walking around the museum having fun and taking lots of pictures. It was the first time you saw him fully comfortable with taking pictures and you couldn’t be happier that he feels safe around you. Smiles couldn’t disappear from both of your faces.

It was already 4PM when you two left the museum and you were starting to get hungry. Connor had this already planned and drove you to McDonalds to get food. Again, he remembered that you said to him that this is your guilty pleasure food and you could eat it every single day. When you two got the food, you decided to sit in the car and eat in a parking lot while chatting. This day was already perfect but he had one more thing planned. 

Now it was the most nervous part for Connor. He booked a boat trip for you two and after it he wanted to ask you to be his girlfriend. The day was perfect and he didn't want to ruin it. He started to overthink this again but your monologue about wanting to adopt a cat brought him back to reality. He was smiling at the thought of you having a cat because he knew you'd be great with him. After 30 minutes, he parked a car and led you to a boat. 

“You mentioned how much you miss home and spending days on a boat so I thought we could have a boat evening here” He shrugged.

“It’s perfect, I love the idea” You hugged him and he swore that he felt butterflies in his stomach. 

You two walked on the boat and sat here quietly watching the busy city. It was incredible to stop and just relax while enjoying each other's presence. You cuddled into him and he gladly put his hand on you. It was a gentle move but you loved it. You were so in love with him and this day just proved to you that Connor is the guy you want forever. After an hour, you returned to the land and you smiled at him widely.

“Thank you for today. It was the best day of my life” You pecked his cheek and saw a blush on his face. 

“It was a pleasure for me to make your day better but I need to ask you something” He took a deep breath. “I really like you Y/N and I want you as more than a friend. Would you be my girlfriend?” He asked you and you froze in a spot. A boy that you love wants you. After a couple seconds you threw yourself into his arms. 

“I would love to be your girlfriend. You mean the world to me and I’ll be more than happy to be yours” Connor felt relief when you agreed. 

“Can I kiss you?” He asked you shyly.

“You don’t have to ask, you’re my boyfriend” You chuckled and the next thing you felt was his lips on yours. It was a passionate kiss full of emotions and love. You couldn’t be happier than today.

yourusername

liked by _connorbedard and 2352 others

yourusername I think I fall in love...🤍

jackhughes You what???

lhughes_06 You have a lot to explain young lady when you get back home.

_quinnhughes That the reason why I was against you going to different city

25 May 2024

[i-will-judge-u]

Not expecting anyone to respond to this (or particularly WANTING anyone to, lol, I don't want angry replies ideally) but I do just want to throw my own opinion into the current Ai art debate happening in comments.

People need to start taking responsibility for the ways they harmfully contribute to the environment's exploitation. Companies not wanting to pay artists is 100% an issue, but the idea that Ai slop existing is otherwise harmless could not be further from the truth. Yes, these Ai slop videos seem funny and weird and 'ha ha look at the weird thing this Ai made', but the reality is that generative Ai is extremely wasteful and energy intensive. You can easily look this up. It's much worse than a google search or a youtube video, and has a direct impact on water scarcity and environmental damage.

By reblogging / sharing / interacting with Ai slop, you are either promoting and normalising the use of unethical generative Ai systems, or are directly financially supporting the people that make Ai slop videos to share on social media. Your click, your view, (maybe less on tumblr, but definitely on other social media platforms, where I've seen similar Ai videos being shared) = direct support. It's a direct incentive for more Ai slop videos to be made.

Same way that people love to blame companies for climate change and then do shein hauls, LOL. Naturally a lot of environmental destruction is out of our hands if we are not CEOs or part of the capital class, but that does not mean that we as individuals cannot also contribute harmfully. No one is forcing you to support Generative Ai, this is something you CHOOSE to do.

There is very little excuse for generative Ai, if any at all. One person in replies said that the issue is not that Gen Ai is plagiarism, implying that it isn't. I'm going to be very clear about this: 99% of the time, it is plagiarism, undeniably. My university (I study Eng Lit) does not allow us to use Gen Ai for anything because they said it's plagiarism, they are not your own words, the are the output of an Ai model built on the work of other human beings.

Video Gen Ai is no different - it creates things from a database. That database 99% of the time is not curated out of an individual artist's own works for their own independent usage or whatever, but out of artists who did NOT consent to having their art scraped to build an Ai model.

Hoping to see more Ai hate this 2025 !!