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#and until the writers come out and say that it isn't that deep
youcouldmakealife · 13 hours
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Stuff that Helps me Write: Pacing (no, not that kind), and burnout avoidance
So this was supposed to be about something entirely different., but every time I started making a point, I got distracted by a second, bonus idea (ways to trick your brain when it's not cooperating with you! things I've tried (I will try everything) and what worked and didn't! what to do with writer's block!) and then start writing about that, and I've got half a dozen unrelated paragraphs going in my drafts, so I think I'm just going to make this a mini-series of 'stuff that helps me write and may also help you (or maybe they won't, I don't know, this shit's all subjective)'.
If there's anything in particular you'd like to hear about, or something about my process you're curious about, absolutely feel free to reply or shoot me an ask and I'll do my best to address them as I go.
But yeah, pacing. And more specifically, not burning out. I figured it was important I hit this one first, because I think it's the most important one, or at least, the one that makes the biggest difference.
With the caveat that I am someone who has repeatedly driven myself into burnout, I'm also someone who now knows why that is, and have been teaching myself how to, you know, not do that.
So. Here's how I, you know, don't do that.
Will preface this by again mentioning that most writing advice (and advice in general) never seemed to work for me, and I mostly thought I was just Bad at Doing Things, until I learned my brain's literally wired differently, and that I'd been trying to apply processes that didn't actually work for said wiring.
So instead, I figured out what worked for me. And what works for me isn't necessarily what will work for you, or even what will work for me a month or five years down the line, but it's going okay right now.
I'll straight up say that, contrary to all the Writing Advice, I don't write every day, and I don't think it's necessary, or even necessarily a good idea -- I have at times, but I no longer do, because if I write for more than six days straight I find the proverbial well dries up and I write less than I do had I just taken a break when I needed it.
Cognitive energy and the sort of ephemeral ~inspiration (work that's been done on a subconscious level) are fundamentally no different than physical energy: if you don't replenish it, you will run out. If you overdo it, you will run out. If you consistently overdo it without replenishing it, you will burn out.
Taking a page from hockey players here: if you did an intense workout right before a game they'd ask what the fuck was the matter with you. You need a nap and a meal and to get some stretching and light work in. Running at 100% all the time will burn you out in every single field, including this one.
That's not me saying not to run at 100% at all. I generally try to pace myself now, but if I'm really in it, and the words are coming easily, I don't stop until they stop -- I wrote just shy of 4k of later scenes for SAIT last week (my 2024 record!), all in one sititng, by hand, when I was supposed to be sleeping, because that's when the inspiration came. I didn't fall asleep until past 6am that night, and my hand is still mad at me.
But you know how much writing I got done the follow day? (None, I was busy transcribing 4k of handwriting). The rest of this week? (Not much more than that). Those bursts of energy are awesome, and honestly can make you feel like a writing god, but the well's the well, and I've learned my personal well is about 5000 words a week deep.
Before my most recent scrape with autistic burnout, which I'm still sort of climbing my way out of, that well was closer to 7500 words. But honestly, it probably wasn't; I was likely just siphoning words from future wells and then it all caught up with me when I was looking at a horizon of dry-ass wells ahead of me. (I'll admit this isn't a perfect metaphor.)
But seriously, my advice for basically everything, not just writing (and something I wish I'd learned before I hit my 30s), is 'figure out what pace you can work at sustainably'.
Please note that 'sustainably' is not 'without literally dying'. Because my literal ass thought when people said 'give everything 100%' they meant, you know, 'give everything 100%' (I know! absurd of me), rather than 'give the best effort you can give in this moment considering your current resources'. So I gave it my all (also interpreted that one wrong I guess?). And then I wondered why I kept hitting a wall all the time. And why, eventually, I stopped being able to climb that wall entirely.
I don't think I'm ever going to reach that 7500 word threshold again. There will be weeks I'm so inspired I write that much, but the next week I probably won't manage more than 2500. Or maybe I'll have two 7500 weeks in a row, but I'll need to take a whole week off after that, or spend several weeks working at a lower tempo while I let the well replenish itself.
I've been tracking some metrics quite closely as I sort of tweak my life into its new shape (said shape being 'do the best you can given your resources') , and during my most productive month of this year I wrote 3x as much as the worst (writing wise, I was finalising publication at the time), my current weekly average is about 4800 words. Sometimes it's a bit higher or lower, sometimes much higher or lower, but that's what I can sustainably do right now.
Frankly, I'm a little cranky about this: I know I can do more, because I did do more. But my priority now is not to send myself straight back into burnout again, so when I sprint, it's just that, rather than my previous 'trying to run a marathon at the pace of a sprinter'. I'm writing less than I used to, but it's honestly not that much less: because the pace is sustainable rather than boom and bust, I don't run myself ragged enough to desperately need a break.
I'm aware this advice only works if you have control over your own time, and a schedule that doesn't force you to focus on writing say, one day a week, or around other obligations, but the only real workaround for burnout is consistency, and that consistency cannot be your maximum.
Or, it can, but I guarantee you that will bite you in the ass at some point, and the pain of not getting enough done is nothing compared to the pain of not being able to get anything done because your nervous system threw up its hands and decided if you weren't going to listen to their clues (feelings, symptoms) or their warnings (Feelings, Symptoms) that you were overdoing it, they were going to shut your ass down until you listened.
0/10 do not recommend.
Next week: how to trick your brain into doing shit that it doesn't feel like doing, even though it's onto all your tricks by now. Or at least, how I trick mine.
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applebunch · 2 years
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michael was haunted by leon but nica wasn’t... nica not being haunted by leon did not mitigate the suffering she underwent... thinking abt it forever
#nica stamatis#leon stamatis#michael tate#greater boston spoilers#yadda yadda made a unprived post abt it already#''haunted'' having a very specific definition that does not apply to all grieving characters#and michael was haunted by leon because. although leon loved all of his friends and family. his relationship with michael was. different.#that relationship wasn't MORE than the other ones in any way. it was just. different.#leon's soul very quickly became tethered to michael's. once he was brought back.#leon apparently felt a special need to help michael in specific. despite the fact that michael wasn't the only one struggling#and we. still haven't gotten an explanation for why it was HIM and not ANYONE ELSE#and until the writers come out and say that it isn't that deep#i choose to believe tha it's because of this stuff#being haunted is DIFFERENT from what nica was going through but it isn't WORSE#being haunted is ONE unhealthy way to take the death of a loved one but it isn't the ONLY WAY or inherently the WORST way#by far the most miserable characters in the podcast are a restless ghost and the brother he haunts#so haunting CAN be REALLY BAD#but it is not INHERENTLY the WORST#interesting distinction to me. given how. you know. scary haunting is. you'd IMAGINE it'd be inherently the worst#like there's a sliding scale of ''bad'' and ''worst'' and haunting's at the end of it#but not only is it NOT. there is no sliding scale! because that's not how this works!#most of michael's suffering was done at the hands of ~supernatural influence~ and nica's was extremely magic-free#but they were BOTH still really really really bad!!!!!#grater bluecheese
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rerefundslocals · 7 months
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CLOSER TO YOU
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Summary : Jungkook missed your important merger event for your company and a promotion you've been anticipating, he's apologizing for the wrong things, however it makes you love him harder.
>>pairing : jungkook x fem!reader
>>genre : angst, smut , fluff
>>trope : established relationship
>>warnings : mechanic!jungkook (not mentioned alot), corporate!reader, unprotected sex, dirty talk(min), spanking, oc is a creamer and squirter,rough missionary, neck kisses, makeout sesh, very light dom/sub tones, they really just cute.
>>word count : I'll add later.
[a/n : I'm bacckkk, I wrote this all in one sitting,my writers block is over and I will be writing a lot more when I have a chance cause school is kicking my ass omg! thank you for all the follows, this is my little treat to you. Enjoy!! reblog, reblog, reblog, that's how Tumblr works, but anything will suffice for now! come talk to me and send requests, I don't bite<3 p.s this is heavily unedited]
[listen to : closer to you - jungkook. if I ain't got you - alicia keys. bloom - aqyila]
(^.~)(^.~)(^.~)(^.~)(^.~)(^.~)(^.~)(^.~)(^.~)(^.~)(^.~)(^.~)(^.~)
It's thick
The tension between you and jungkook.
You could not believe it yourself when Jungkook showed up an hour later after the merger event of your company, not when he promised to be there.
It was insufferable to face your colleagues without a plus one while their partners had held their hands the whole night. Marie did not bite her tongue when it came to asking you about where your partner was.
Yes, you were incredibly embarrassed and just contemplated staying in the bathroom stalls the entire night.
You have a scowl on your faces as you sit in the passenger seat of Jungkooks fucked Nissan Almera. Jungkook does not make attempts to apologize and it has been that way since he picked you up and quite frankly you're getting sick of it.
"Jungkook, seriously! Are you not going to fucking apologize for how you embarrassed me tonight?!" You finally let it out, screaming into the space of the car.
Jungkook avoids your question and simply presses on the gas to get  home faster. There's no traffic tonight.
You huff as you cross your arms and stare daggers at Jungkooks side profile. "So, I'm just gonna talk to myself then?" Again, no reply.
However the lack of response from your boyfriend does not stop you as you relay to give him a piece of your mind. "I just wanted you to show up, Jungkook for the one time I ask you to accompany me and this is how you fucking treat me?" You take a deep breath as you continue.
"Fine. Miss three dates that I've planned for us, but missing this important opportunity of my life...you must not love me, Kook."
"Don't say that." Jungkook finally whispers into the car. He just wants to fucking get home, But that's another 10 minutes.
You laugh, but its not full of humor, it's an annoyed breath of laughter. " and why not, Jungkook?" You question
He turns to look at you as you're stopped at a red light and his eyes look heavy and tired, hair disheveled and clothes wrinkled up. "If you wanna talk, we'll do it when we get home. Please. I'm begging you, baby."
You stay looking at him and your eyes never leave each other until the sound of a honk takes you both out of your daze as Jungkook drives off, not once waiting for your response.
A sigh is heard in the car and you turn to look at the city lights, hopefully he gets the hint that you'll have the conversation at home.
10 minutes later you're finally home and out of your heels, however you do not waste time getting back into the conversation.
"So why, Jungkook, why weren't you there? Did you know I got a promotion? And you weren't fucking there to stand by my side. Worst of all, Marie threw it all in my face. So where the fuck were you?" You've rambled but you're angry so Jungkook isn't mad in the slightest.
You've always loved the fact that he is incredibly understanding.
"I'm scraping the floors, ____. I'm barely getting by to pay our fucking rent so sue me for taking an extra shift at the workshop so you can get all the nice things you want." He responds to you, running his hands through his jet black hair.
You look around the gloomy apartment as you pretend to not understand what he had just said to you. The kitchen light shines on you both as you're both sat at the bar stools at your counter.
"I'llet you know that I don't need any nice things, I just want you. You're the only-"
"but I wanna give you all the nice things you want and I'll work twice as hard to give you anything."
It's as if he doesn't get it, he's the only thing you'll ever need.
Your head is hung low as tears gather at your waterline, you'd hate for Jungkook to see you cry cause you know how much he detests it. He fucking hates it.
"I-I love you so much, Kook. But as much as I do, I don't need nice stuff, I need you to be there for me, we just need each other. So stop taking extra shifts, I'm working as well and we can have nice stuff if we just love each other and be there for each other. Okay?"
Your voice sounds heavy, the tears have hit the counter and your back is being rubbed by Jungkook.
To avoid further arguments although he doesn't fully agree, he makes an oath to himself to get a better job and get you a life worth of all the beautiful things you want.
"Okay, baby. I'm sorry, I'll be there for you all the time. You know I love you, right? You're my favorite girl." It felt like years since you've heard Jungkooks heartful chuckle.
He lifts you by your shoulders and forces you to look at him, "I said you know that I love you, right?" You stare lovingly in his brown Bambi eyes as you nod.
Finally, he circles his arms around your waist, standing up as he brings your face into his chest.
You feel complete and whole as you melt into your boyfriends arms, there's no one like him, you don't think they'll ever be.
You lift your head as you hold out your pinky finger to him, eyes meeting once again, "pinky promise to never leave me."
Jungkooks lips spread into a wide smile as he locks his pinky finger into yours, "I pinky promise, baby."
After what seemed like years you both laugh lightly at each other, pinky fingers still interlocked.
"Mm, you know you can't break that promise." You teasingly say.
Jungkook chuckles and brings your locked fingers to his lips and laying a light kiss on your pinky, "wouldn't ever think of breaking this promise, Princess." He whispers against your pinky.
You sigh out a low 'okay' as you wrap your arms around his neck, bringing his lips unto yours. His soft pillowy lips meet yours and you both dive into a passionate kiss, Jungkooks head tilted to the side to deepen the kiss, his hands sliding down to your waist to grip the skin underneath your black bodycon dress.
Your kiss becomes a fury for passion and lovemaking as your tongue envelops Jungkooks mouth and a soft moan can be heard throughout the kitchen as you moan into Jungkook mouth.
Jungkook peels off your mouth, leaning in to attack your neck in a series of kisses.
"K-kook, please!" You need him so bad, your breath is hitched as you fight for air and your moans are being progressively loud from Jungkook eating your neck.
He lifts his head up, going straight to undress you, you're peeled of your seat and onto your feet. Your dress is stripped off and you're only left in your skimpy black thong, your plump ass all bare for Jungkook as well as your tits.
Jungkook takes your lips once again, leaning  down to pick you up and as he does, he balances you with both hands on your ass and wastes no time laying a slap upon both cheeks and greedily squeezing a handful as you let out moans into his mouth like a mad woman. "Fucking love your ass." He practically groans into your mouth.
Soon, you're backed into your shared bedroom and jungkook throws you onto the bed.
Jungkook tears his clothes off layer by layer until he's left naked and his dick fully hard and bare of any hair is on show.
He spreads your legs as he settles between them, and pulling your thong to the side as he swipes a finger between your folds. "You're so fucking wet, all this for me?"
You can't seem to focus when Jungkook pushes in two fingers into your puckered hole, his speed taking off as soon as he feels you around him. "O-oh fuck, Kook!"
"Mmhm, that's it baby, taking my fingers so well." He fingers you for another 10 seconds until he's pulling out and immediately replacing his fingers with his pink tip, slowly sliding into you tight and wet walls.
"Ohh fuck!" You both moan at the same time, the feeling of his dick deep into your stomach as he starts his strokes off slow.
Your eyes are barely open as jungkook goes at a relentless speed, thrusting into your pussy as if you owed him something.
"That's is baby, cream all over this dick, and spread your fucking legs higher." You're drunk on his cock as he fucks you missionary, feeling him in your organs.
"I'm gonna cum, Kook!" The knot is getting tighter as you feel your wetness trickling down your thighs and your creamy essence coating Jungkooks dick.
"Cum for me, baby. You deserve it. Cum all over this dick." That's all it takes for you to release all over Jungkook, as a scream is let out from the depth of your lungs.
"Good girl." He never stops thrusting as he chases his high, Jungkook presses onto your stomach as he groans, as he feels his high approaching. He's sweaty above you, his dry hair now wet and stringy.
Your moans and Jungkooks are in sync as you feel your tummy tightening once again.
"Fuckk!" Jungkook finally cums and releases his load into your pussy, and you follow right after, squirting all over his lower abdomen.
"Shit." You let out as jungkook rolls over you as he watches you gather yourself.
He gets up and gets a warm wet towel for you. Jungkook cleans himself up and you. Soon after he dresses you up in fresh panties and his shirt and for himself he gets boxers and joins you in bed after an eventful night.
Your head is on his chest as you play with is belly button and Jungkook is in deep thought.
"I'm sorry, baby. For tonight." He finally says and your heart relaxes.
"Let's forget about that. You're here right now, that's all that matters."
"Congratulations on your promotion, I love you, Princess." You're surprised he even remembers and all you can do is let out a squeal.
"Thank you, and I Love you."
"I know." His tone is cocky, not that you care but you're giddy as you lean up to lay a peck on his lips.
There's no where else you'd rather be. That's what you declare.
☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆
original work of @rerefundslocals do not copy, translate or repost as your own! est. 2024
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biolumien · 4 months
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... carried flower petals
pt 2 to this
notes: I AM. such a bad writer. help. going through double the stages of grief on this one. who even cares. who even gaf! i don't. im winning in the dgaf wars. (lying)
samurai!soshiro hoshina x fem!reader NSFW! w/ m/f sex. no i did not proofread this. this isn't a flex i actively just squinted trying not to look too hard at my own writing. this is also hoshina pov word count: 2415
hoshina supposes that he couldn’t blame you for your reaction. there was no way you would have been happy about marrying him, a complete and utter stranger–no matter how many times you might have met prior. and in the three times you’d met, he’d tried to keep his distance. there was an aura of deep discontent about you, and he didn’t want to disturb you, for fear that your anger would turn darker.
at least, until you pulled a dagger on him.
the dagger that he’d gifted you, no less. 
or, well–he hadn’t gifted it to you directly. he had selected the gift, but it had come alongside the marriage offer–and so hoshina wondered if you’d conflated the dagger as something utterly negative. when he’d picked out the dagger, he’d vowed it to keep you safe from harm. a selfish well-wishing on his part, sure–as a samurai, he was bound to make enemies that could hurt you.
he raises a hand to his neck, touching where you might have slashed him.
would he have let you? 
he brings himself to his feet as the sliding door to his room opens. you stand in the doorway, dressed in a simple nightgown–a far cry from the garments you wore during the ceremony. 
his mind flits back to them, for a moment–you’d chosen to wear pure white, contrasting him in his black haori and hakama. your expression had been severe, distant even then. you’d followed your new attendants into the quarters of your new housing within the hoshina clan’s home to change out of your wedding attire, and you hadn’t met his glance once.
you bow your head.
“your attendants tell me you’re quite the talent in bed,” you say, your voice crisp. your eyes meet his, your gaze unreadable. his eyes flick to your hands, folded neatly in front of you–and yet your fingers are fidgeting ever so slightly, a possible indication of just how nervous you were. 
hoshina can’t help but laugh.
“is that what they say? my mother can’t help but find people that run their mouths…” hoshina runs a hand through his hair. “sit. i can’t have my wife–” the word still felt foreign to him–wife, he was really a husband, was that even a moniker that fit him?–but he swallows his misgivings, pats one of the cushions next to the futon. “–standing for so long. it would be unfitting.”
“so are you?” you gather your kimono, sitting down. 
hoshina hums.
“if i tell you, would you see me differently?” hoshina asks.
“well. you’re my husband,” you say. the corners of your lips twitch when you say the word husband, your brow furrowing a little bit as you say it. a clear show of your definite displeasure. “i have to… accept it, after all. as your wife. hell, your attendants tell me that you were in the process of courting concu–”
“ahh,” hoshina leans his head back. “so is that what that’s all about?” he sighs, a strange, tightening pressure forming somewhere in his throat. the marriage acceptance hadn’t been on his end. it’d been his father’s, much to his mother’s chagrin. you were from a no-name clan, having long lost your family’s relevance. his mother had complained about your family’s name dragging down the hoshina family’s name.
but as hoshina reminisced–he couldn’t give a damn about his family name.
his brother–his proud, arrogant, stubborn, awful brother–had made his opinion on their family name very clear, by just leaving.
hoshina did resent him for it, just a little. it just meant that he couldn’t run away, now. 
“no. the concubine rumor’s bullshit,” hoshina says. “quite honestly, i couldn’t be bothered. i’m not in the interest of producing my family an heir.”
“huh?” you ask, sounding confused. “but–” “i mean. the sex is fine,” hoshina says candidly, placidly. “and if the family gets an heir, we get an heir. but it’s never been my concern. i think you ought not to worry about it, either. our families need each other. it’ll be reason enough for you to stay.” 
you stare at him, perplexed for the moment, before your brow also furrows. 
“so, you… don’t, want—”
“mm. you pulled a knife on me last time we talked,” hoshina teases as he begins to undo his ponytail. “i thought that made your opinion on me fairly clear. i won’t do anything that makes you uncomfortable if you don’t want it. my folks won’t be happy, but there’s nothing like lying that can’t fix that.” he runs a hand through his hair. “so it’s your call.”
you watch him. 
“it’s fine,” you say. you lean in closer to him, and he simply watches you—watches you like he did on the first day the two of you met, watches you like he did when you raised the dagger to his throat. always watching, waiting for you to make the first move. 
“i’d rather just get it over with,” you say. “the first time.” 
“mm. as you command, then,” hoshina says. 
when he leans in to kiss you, he does it slowly. you taste faintly of the sake you drank during the marriage ceremony, though the alcohol has long worn off. 
he wishes he could take you apart more cleanly. to take you apart with intention. he can draw the lines from the veins in your wrist to the beating, fluttering of your heart in your breast. you kiss him with your eyes open, as if you’re watching for his every movement. he supposes that he’s watching you, too, trying to see what you’ll do. what you like. 
“are you just going to kiss me?” you murmur, something like spite in your voice. “or are you actually going to show me something interesting?” 
“interesting?” he pulls back from the kiss, raising an eyebrow. 
“i’ve read all the woodcuts,” you say. “as apparently was my duty as your wife. i was just wondering if there was anything more interesting than that.” 
“mm. you can’t possibly learn what it feels like through reading alone,” hoshina says. “experience is the best teacher.”
“big talk,” you retort. hoshina almost hates the way his heart flutters at your words, entranced by you. one hand reaches out to touch your face, the other hand gently reaching down to undo your obi as he pulls you closer to him, letting you straddle his lap. 
“i’m afraid most of my lovers say i’m a talkative one,” hoshina purrs. “but i hope you’ll find me satisfactory.” when he leans in to kiss you again, your sash falls gently onto the ground, and the inner layers of your kimono come undone.  
he’s had no small share of lovers—or, well, general brothel experience, he supposes. he’s a man in the end—a samurai from a family of renown, for whom many lovers might have found him appealing simply for how much money he was willing to pay for good service. but he knows what he’s doing, in any case.
he revels in it, though—at how responsive and jittery you seem to be. the faintest touch of his hand against your skin is enough to make you jolt out of your skin, and you whimper ever so slightly as his fingers pull at a nipple, and he feels your pulse jump in your throat as his teeth graze at your neck. he feels you shift against him, attempt to press your thighs together and he laughs. 
he’s surprised there, too—the way you shudder when he laughs, as he’s pressed against you. 
when his fingers seek between your legs, he’s thrilled, but still surprised to find the telltale sign of slick. 
“mm. this wet already, really?” hoshina teases. his hand brushes against your inner thigh, coaxing you to spread your legs a little more, and he feels your leg twitch against the shift of his knuckles. “you’re desperate.” 
“as if.” your breath sounds shuddery, and hoshina laughs, not meanly. he wonders how he could take you apart—could he use just his mouth? his fingers? the mere suggestion of touching you, just using words alone? he wanted to know, desperately so. desperately in the same way he wanted to know your heart, if only you’d let him. but in the meantime, he smiles—and it’s more of a smirk. 
he takes his fingers to his mouth, sucking the wetness from his fingers, and he revels in the way you flush, a half-scandalized and half-flustered sound escaping your mouth. 
“it’s alright,” hoshina says, teasing. 
“i don’t—need you to tell me it’s alright,” you say, flustered. “i just—”
“less talking from you,” hoshina says, fondly. gently. he’s entranced by you, the swell of your breast and the way your skin flushes red from your neck to your collarbones. he wishes he could sink his teeth into your pulse—or would you give him your beating heart, let him devour the tender organ? “you’re doing wonderfully. do you feel up for more?” 
you pause, biting your lip. he marvels at the way your fingers twitch against his in anticipation, and your brow furrows. 
“let—i want to be on top,” you say, and hoshina simply smiles. 
“alright,” he acquiesces. “i’m all yours.”
that much was true. he was learning far too quickly that he was very much a man that would follow you anywhere, that he was at your beck and call. 
you help him undress with shaking hands, pulling his belt away and pushing the kimono from his shoulders. your hands stop for a moment as you survey his chest—hoshina watches your face, propped back and leaning back on his hands. your fingers press against a deep scar against his chest, and your eyes meet his. 
“long story,” hoshina says softly. “not the kind i’d tell my wife on our first night together, anyhow.” 
your hand gently touches his cock and he hisses, practically, wincing at how it feels like too much and not much at all. it takes most of his discipline to not rut up into the touch, to let himself be taken by that pleasure. you gently push him back, letting him lie back against the futon. 
as you lower yourself slowly onto his cock, hoshina watches as your fingers flex against his chest, your eyes squeeze and your toes desperately curl. he shifts his hips a little bit, and you whimper. 
“don’t tease,” you keen. 
“m’not.”
hoshina thinks it’s quite the opposite, really. he’s a patient man, but not this patient. you’re about halfway down his cock at this point, slowly taking him in bit by bit—and then his patience just snaps somehow when he hears you whine again. not in a bad way—just in a he’ll fucking die like this, he’s sure kind of way. 
you gasp immediately as he thrusts up, causing you to bottom out. your hips meet his, and you lean your head back, a loud and desperate moan leaving your lips. 
“y-you awful man,” you moan out, something like a pout in your tone. “i wanted to take my time—”
“mm—hm. sorry,” hoshina teases, not quite apologetic at all. his voice strains a bit—you feel almost like a fire, your cunt desperately squeezing against his cock. “just don’t think i’ll last long with you squeezing me like this. does it feel that good?”
your face flushes, your hair plastered to your forehead. 
“shut up.”
“i’ll take that as a yes, then,” hoshina says, unrepentant in the way he thrusts up into you, reveling in the way you respond to each movement with tiny little whimpers that stretch into longer and longer cries. you don’t say his name, but he finds himself uncaring for the moment. does he wish you’d say his name? does he wish, however selfishly, that this moment might burn itself into your memory?
surely he doesn’t. it would be unbecoming of him to ask that much. 
your hand leans out, digging into his skin, and he lets out a soft, raspy breath, taking your hand into his. 
“‘m close,” you whimper out through shaking breaths, and hoshina’s heart squeezes again, at the way your hips cant against his, as if each touch almost hurts, but you can’t help but continue to press your hips against his, trying to find more traction. hoshina smirks, his free hand reaching out to thumb at your clit, flicking upwards, and tries to see if he can memorize the way you seize up against him, the way you squeeze down on his cock–tries to see if he can memorize every twitch.
he hopes he can.
you cum soon after, and your hand digs into his so hard that he wonders if you might be able to break his fingers one day–and hopes that you can. he holds you tightly against him, letting you ride out the waves of your orgasm as you whimper tiny uh, uh, uhs–until you wince.
“hurts, i–please,” you say, and hoshina takes pity on you for the moment, pulls out, and strokes soothingly at your face. your chest heaves, and hoshina thinks he could get lost in your every motion. as hoshina shifts to move away–he’d rather prioritize your comfort over his in the end, so despite the fact that he was hard to the point it almost hurt, he figured he’d just deal with it on his own—you shift up.
“but you–you didn’t,” you say after a moment, grabbing his wrist. 
“hm?” hoshina hums. “mm. don’t worry about me, dear. i’m more than capable of–fuck, you–” his voice halts right as your hand wraps around his cock, your thumb grazing over the head of it ever so gently. “fuck. you-you don’t have to–”
“please,” you say, something like disdain–or spite? or something, he really couldn’t tell–in your voice. “i can do this much.”
he cums embarrassingly fast–the mixture of being so strung out at this point, so strangely affected, enamored by you–and he can’t help but laugh. he wants to press his face into your collarbone, but he can’t bring himself to cross the distance. he hums, instead, simply exhaling through his teeth for a moment.
“get some rest,” hoshina says. he watches as your face shifts ever so slightly–and he wishes he knew you better, if only so he could understand what you were thinking.
“alright,” you say.
hoshina fears he’s in love.
but the part of him that knows better says he shouldn’t be. he watches silvery moonlight paint the planes of your back, and you turn away from him, lost in sleep. 
he sighs.
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Note
I'm craving for your writing, please spare me a crumb 🛐
ATEEZ favorite positions maybe?
ATEEZ favorite positions
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❥ATEEZ (separately) x afab reader
➯a/n: i'm deep deeeeeeeep in the depths of writers block and trying to claw my way out like the feral writing gremlin i know i am- but i have no idea if this is any good, please forgive me for the atrociously long wait. happy valentines ! 💌💕
♡´・ᴗ・`♡▼・ᴥ・▼genre: smut, bullet point style, drabbles
ಠ_ಠwarning/content: eldest to youngest, unprotected(booooo), so much romance im a sucker, soft & rough sex, head(giving and receiving), dacryphilia, overstimulation, possessiveness, brat taming in the form of dumbification, strength kink, restraint, switching holes (LMAO?), forehead touches!!!!!!!! not proof read :(
⁂perm taglist: @stvrfir3 @tunaasan @marievllr-abg
MATURE UNDER CUT MDNI
彡★PARK SEONGHWA - lotus
he's a hopeless romantic, and it definitely shows through his favorite positions
he's seated on the edge of the bed, or couch, or chair, even seated on the floor-
and youre seated in his lap like it's your throne
your legs wrapped around his moving hips, arms around his neck and hands tangled up in his hair
it's his favorite position for many reasons
the angle of his hips which makes his cock tease the deepest parts of you
your heavy breaths falling right onto his lips, breathing the same air during such a passionate act
and the way he can see your eyes well up with pleasure with every little thrust until you come undone right infront of him
Seonghwa can see every little twitch of your face as he rests his forehead against yours, his hips had set an unrelenting slow and loving pace long ago and have yet to stop. His tip drags along your g-spot every time he pulls out, and you almost want to beg him to just stay buried deep because of the maddening slow building pleasure. Any attempt to speak on either of your parts only comes out as a puff of hot air into the others mouth. It isn't the first time you've done it in this position, but the intimacy of it completely blankets you every time. You can't feel anything other than each other, and it's pure euphoria.
彡★KIM HONGJOONG - cuddle fuck
it's not that it's his favorite persay, it's just the one that happens the most
people say this man hates affection, they couldn't be any more wrong
he loves to be close to you !
after a busy schedule and tiring day, all he wants to do is cuddle
but your body is so soft and warm pressed against his, he feels so safe and comfortable
he won't say anything at first, either because he's too embarrassed or too tired so it usually goes like this:
Hongjoong has his arms wrapped around you- one cradling you to his chest warmly as the other traces his racing thoughts on your lower back. One of your legs is hooked over his hip, the other tangled between his. You kiss over his tattoo with all of the care in the world and that's when the feeling in his lower belly stirs to life. As you go on about mundane things, like what you should cook the both of you for dinner, it only gets hotter and tighter. Your skin is searing against his in the most pleasant and simultaneously daunting ways. The way you bite your lip tells him you finally feel it, that hardness pressing against your thin house-shorts. You push aside the other topic at hand and move both of your shorts away, wordlessly slipping him inside of you. You're so close, you may as well be one soul. And that's just the way he likes it.
彡★JEONG YUNHO - v
yunho is TALL.
no matter what position you're in, innocent cuddling or sinful fucking or walking down the street-
he shadows over you like a demon
the softest demon ever but still
he's huge and it drives him over the edge when he can see and feel the difference compared to you
so when you've got your legs stretching up as far as they can go and they barely reach over his shoulders????
whew baby prepare your cervix to be bruised
It started as a simple mating press, Yunho' s cock begging him to just fill you as far as possible without breaking you. But when he sat up, your legs followed; no longer being pinned by his chest. You laid them flat against his sweaty chest and arched your back, breaking his mind in an overwhelming horniness as he felt your toes curl just on his shoulder blades when you came. Oh, he'll be damned if he stopped there. He went on for hours, he had never been so hard. He wanted to cum so badly, but at the same time, he never wanted to move away from the ethereal image of you below him like that. When he finally did (and hello wow that was so much cum it literally came splatting out between you) he made a mental note to most definitely get you worked up again tomorrow.
彡★KANG YEOSANG - mating press
this man's beauty and personality is so soft and silky
don't let that shit fool you breh
he is a beast in the bedroom, he goes feral when you're behind a locked door together
there's something about you that just makes him want to overtake your entire being and become one with you
something that makes him want you to break- break just for him
he loves every fiber of your being and he's possessive over you like no fucking other
because of his career, he's not allowed to show that publicly, and he more than makes up for his need to express his dominating feelings for you by-
well, by dominating you
Your thighs are crushed to your chest, feet dangling in the air and bouncing with every rough thrust of Yeosang 's skilled hips. If there was a time that this position was uncomfortable, that time is long gone. All of his deep, quick thrusts wipe away anything in your mind other than him, and the glazed over look in your eyes only makes him go harder. His eyes nearly roll into his skull every time he feels you clench around him, your cunt completely at his mercy. You're ripe for the picking. Laid out for him helplessly, stuck in position by his rough and loving hands on the back of your sore thighs. Completely weak beneath him as he fucks you like it's the last thing he'll ever do on this mortal earth, and you simply let him because you love him. And he absolutely revels in it.
彡★CHOI SAN - against the wall
"sannie bulked up after wooyoung chest bumped him across stage!!"
erm no
sannie bulked up when he saw you watching an against the wall video!!
his brain immediately fried at the idea of doing that to you and now here we are a few years later
he prides himself in how strong he's gotten, how muscular he is
it's an ego boost really, and a deserved one
he loves bending you into whichever position he wants to just because he can
but this will always be his personal favorite
San has his arms wrapped around the underside of your knees, pining them to the wall and effectively folding you in half while he demolishes your holes. All of his praise falling to deaf ears as your head spins with a dizzying pleasure. He lets your forehead fall on his, breathing in your fucked out groans as his thrusts slam your hips and lower back into the wall. You lost it and started cumming the second he man handled you and lifted you with his cock still inside, and now it's his turn for that blinding white pleasure as you grab his big, flexing biceps and drool as you clench around him.
彡★SONG MINGI - 69
song mingi sloppy toppy champion and i don't take criticism on this sorry
he enjoys eating pussy or sucking dick over sex most days, like his soul purpose is to make his significant other feel on cloud 9 (get it they're the 9 and he's the 6 haha okay-)
and when he's balls deep he can't help but go full sub mode and hump like a wild animal searching for primal release
so- head it is
but you want him to feel good too, obviously
and despite his reassurances that making you feel good in turn makes him feel good, you just can't help it
so, a mutual position is found: one were he gets to have his tongue on you, in you, all over you-
and you get to make him an even whinier mess than usual
It turns Mingi on so badly when he gets to taste you, you barely have to touch him. His tongue is deep inside you, hands kneading your ass as he makes a mess of his favorite meal. Hes so lost in the pleasure of giving that he doesn't even realize you've got his cock stuffed in your throat until he cums into the warmth of it. He's always a whiny mess between your legs, and this new position quickly becomes both of your favorites when you continue to tease him through and past his release, and he continues to slurp up the ever flowing arousal that comes from the pleasure of making him cum. It's a never ending cycle really, and neither of you dare complain.
彡★JUNG WOOYOUNG - spooning
now i would say reverse cowgirl because he's obviously an ass man- but that's his second choice
y'all seen that video of him getting all up on yunho on stage from behind ??
yeah that's why i chose this and because it's infecting my brain
something about it just makes him even more feral than usual
everything about it tbh-
let me just *licks pen*
His leg wrapped over your hip and around yours like an anaconda, using his leverage to spread your legs as you're both laid sideways, giving him all the access he could ever want. And boy does Wooyoung take advantage of it, holding you in place with his arms wrapped under your armpits and holding your shoulders tightly so you can't escape the burning heat of his body against yours while he fucks you to the next millennium. In your ass, it's slow and deep, a beautiful painful stretch. In your pussy, fast and shallow and hard, banging your g-spot until you sob. He can feel your ribs wracking with sobs of overwhelming pleasure, and he doesn't stop until you've made a mess of him just as he did you.
彡★CHOI JONGHO - prone bone
big cock!!!!!
there i said it, it had to be done
it took ages and ages to get used to his absolute girth
and even now that you're used to it it still stretches you out and shuts your brain off to put all of your willpower into your cunt so you don't break in half
and he can't help it as his mind begs him to take advantage of that fact when you're being a brat
he knows you turn into a cock whore the minute he stretches you out
and he plans to make use of that fact
Jongho is still so sweet and gentle when punishing you. He doesn't have to be rough, his veiny girth does the job naturally. Usually he'll spread you out nice and wide- not today. Not when you're a brat. He lays you face down and ties your legs together. He can barely shove his member between your pushed together thighs to get inside of you but when he does. It's like the tightest and warmest fleshlight in the world, and it's attached to the person he loves. He will make you forget your own name, just with his goliath friend and slow passionate thrusts.
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possiblyreallyme · 10 days
Text
Once a Beckman girl, always a Beckman girl
warning: very spicey/smutty but no actual penetration, toys (vibrator), size kink if you squint, big dick benn canon.
hello! i got this idea from one of my favorite one piece writer on tumbler, @innerfare!! everyone, go check them out!! thank you so much!!
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"Come on, honey. Don't you wanna come back to my cabin?" Shanks asked drunkenly through his hiccups and wolfish grin, staggering over the countertop to hold onto the wood and wink at you.
You'd giggle, but you shook your head, cleaning the counter when he knocked over a glass of alcohol with his one elbow.
"I'm sorry, sir," You told him with that sweet smile, though you didn't seem very sorry. "I already have plans with your first mate."
Shanks backed off immediately, nodding his head and walking away before you could ask why. Even in his drunken state, he knew it was a complete waste of time to try and woo one of Benn's girls.
Plus, his first mate wasn't one to sleep around, so Shanks knew better than to interfere when he needed a night to relax. He was drunk, not heartless.
"Tough luck," Lucky Roux murmured through his mouthful of meat when Shanks told the table of pirates about the barmaid, not even looking up to console his captain. "No one gets one of Benn's girls."
"Yeah, no shit," The captain murmured with a hiccup, before slouching against the table with a few more, spinning a bottle cap around like a pouty child.
"I just wish we knew what he does to get girls so crazy," Yasopp replied under his breath, though he didn't necessarily care to keep his voice low. Anyone who knew Benn knew he was a charmer, even if he didn't go around flirting as much as his captain.
If only they knew. If only they knew how their Benn could drag his fingers across a lady's skin and make her feel like she was a work of art. How as much as Shanks told him one-night stands and hookups shouldn't last more than 30 minutes, he just can't leave a girl like that.
Was he not supposed to stretch her with his fingers? How was she supposed to fit him if he didn't— while you're at it, doesn't it feel better when you let her ride your face until she's squealing and pulling at your hair? And it would weight much too heavy on his conscious if he left a woman alone in bed when she's tired and sore and in need of some love, when he could put his left-over energy to use and make her a nice meal, maybe give her a massage to ease the ache he caused.
Of course a man like him was so popular with the ladies. He was practically made for women, with how he could memorize your body like the back of his hand, as if he's known you his whole life, but he only just learned your damn name.
He'll coo in that deep voice of his, say things a pirate most certainly shouldn't be saying to someone he'll never see again, with that charming smile on his face and slowly rolling his hips into yours, thumbing at your clit until you've coated the sheets in as much cum as you could give him.
And yet, he's never come across as a player. He isn't a womanizer; he isn't someone like Shanks who can't be trusted to remember his partners names after a week. He's tough as nails and brutal, but to the women whose hearts still throb for the first mate, he was a sweetheart. The type to empathize and sooth when he's just a little too big to fit all the way in your cunt, wiping your tears with kisses and assure you that you've taken more than enough for him to enjoy, so don't feel guilty.
"Benn," You're whining that night, just after you close and the Red Force was snickering when Beckman puts his hand on the small of your back, dwarfing you so intensely you felt your face go hot. You should have fucking guessed that a man with hands bigger than your head had a cock to match.
"Shh, I know, sweetheart. Just relax," He soothed, large fingers parting your labia and pulling up the hood of your clit, circling the little nerve with an ease that made you wonder if he'd done this before with you.
You knew good and damn well you'd remember if a man like this had ever been with you before, but he hadn't even taken his eyes off your face and yet he found your clit almost faster than you could.
You couldn't focus on that though, already fighting off delirium you only thought a cock could bring you, taken by surprise how he could get you so dumb when all he had done was fuck you with that big black vibrator. He kept you sat upright on his desk by letting you lay your head on his shoulder, fluttering kisses against your jaw and rubbing your back when you clenched around the toy and whined for more, soothing you with his whispers like a father soothing his baby in the dead of night.
"Not yet, little one." It had been not yet all damn night, and you were ready for more. Eyes locked on the tent in his pants, large and clearly thick enough to stretch you to your limit, but you couldn't find it in you to care how much it would hurt. He cared though, and thank God for that. He couldn't live with himself if one of his sweethearts got hurt when it was his job to make sure they were well taken care of and happy, even though Shanks tried to explain to him that his job was simply to get off and go.
When he finally pulled the vibrator out and let you slump against hi desk, he kissed along the inside of your thighs and cleaned up the mess dripping to your knees, murmuring enough poetic praise to keep you high on orgasm for longer than your ego appreciated.
"Aw, baby doll," He chuckled faintly against your cunt, a smile stretching across his lips when you squirmed and whined when his stubble brushed along your sensitive thighs. "You still wanna take my cock, don't you?"
"Yes." Your mother would be ashamed at how fast you answered the pirate, who merely chuckled again and lifted you into his arms.
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jazzthatonewriterchick · 10 months
Text
Daddy’s Home (Dom!Gojo x Sub!Black!Fem!Reader 18+ One Shot)
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“Daddy’s home, baby. Now take your fucking clothes off.”
Pairing: Satoru Gojo x Black!Fem!Reader
Synopsis: It’s been 3 years. You believe your fiancé is dead. You’ve been attempting to move forward in your life without him there beside you. You try to grieve properly in order to move on….until he comes home. And he’s more than ready to make up lost time.
Warnings: MANGA SPOILERS; Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINORS GTFO); Grief; Mentions of Depression, Death & Suicide; Alcohol/Drug Use; Feral!Gojo; Rough Sex; Ripping Clothes; Dirty Talk; Cunnilingus; Forced Deepthroating; Face-Fucking; Multiple Positions; Gojo Giving You Deep Dick; Breeding Kink; Unprotected PIV Sex; Creampie; Cum Eating; Ownership; Gojo Makes You a Mommy; Aftercare; Degradation; Petnames: Baby; Little Girl; Mama; Sweetheart
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!
*IMPORTANT NOTE: In the manga, Gojo is only sealed for 19 days, but in the time of the rest of the manga being written and illustrated, it was 3 years. So the timeline of his being sealed and freed will be 3 years.
Writer’s Note: I’m coping. AND celebrating my man's birthday!! The happiest birthday (and week and month) to my favorite boi! 💙💙💙 -Jazz
********
You’ve never felt such pain before.
It isn't pain that can simply be fixed with a band-aid or a kiss, like a scrape or a cut. It is a deep, cavernous, emotional pain that you have never experienced before...not before losing your fiance. The man you adored and cherished. Your best friend. Your soulmate. Your sunshine peeking through the dark, gray clouds.
But since losing him, all your days are washed with gray. You can't stand any sunny days now, knowing that he loved them and would want to do something–anything–to seize them. "C'mon, baby, let's go get some ice cream!" he'd cheerfully shout. Or "let's go biking" or "wanna take a walk in the park with me?"
Now, all you do is lay in bed and watch the days go by, the pain you feel too much. You've never experienced something so profound and intense. It causes you to cry every single morning into the night until the pink of dawn comes again.
It's been like this for three years now since you lost him forever. It still feels weird to say that: forever. You thought you'd have forever with him, but it was ripped away from you all that time ago during the Shibuya incident. It was a bloody war, from what you've heard; a massacre. So many innocent people perished.
The lives that were spared were among the other Sorcerers and his students, including Nobara who managed to survive Mahito's attack . You visited her all that time she spent in the hospital after the attack as the doctors worked to save her eye. In the end, she lost it, but gained a false one just last year that looks exactly like her real one.
Nanami also survived. It was a close call, apparently. Yuji had found him and attacked Mahito before Nanami could face his violent death. Half of his face and body are completely scalped, but he doesn't try to cover them. They are his battle scars; a reminder of what he is fighting for. He still resides in Japan though you've all been telling him to retire and go to Malaysia. "Not until he's back," he'd fiercely say. "I'm not resting until he's out of that damn box."
He checks on you as do Yuji, Megumi, and Nobara, to ensure you're okay. Shoko spent the night with you a few times until you firmly told her to stop. "I'm not gonna slit my wrists or anything," you scoffed. Shoko pursed her lips at you as she smoked her cigarette on your balcony. "No, but you might drink yourself to death first," she mumbled.
And yes, you have been drinking. You've also been smoking. Weed and alcohol are all that cure the pain, at least for a little while. You don't have to see his dazzling smile or snow-white hair behind your eyelids when you fall asleep high as a kite. It's unhealthy and you know that, but what else can you do?
You have nothing to live for anymore. Your fiance is gone. You try to tell the others this, who have worked tirelessly all this time to find a way to bail him out. 'It's been three years!' you think. 'If they haven't found a way yet, they never will. He is never getting out of that box or the Prison Realm.' And that is the sad, horrible truth.
You curl yourself into a ball now, wrapped in one of his crisp button-up shirts, naked underneath. It is twelve in the afternoon. You haven't eaten or gotten dressed, only showered and brushed your teeth (after Shoko sent you a text to do so). Tears stain your eyes which still sting from your sob session the night before. "Satoru," you whimper into the pillows. "Come back to me, please."
You know this isn't possible, but you wish to God or whoever makes miracles happen that it was. How can you live in a world, in a realm, where your love isn't here? You were going to get married, in spring of 2024. He had promised you after a wonderful night of dinner, champagne, and dancing on a private yacht he ordered just for you two.
When he got down on those long legs, one knee propped up, and presented you with that box, you could feel yourself melt. "After all of this is over," he promised, "after I make this world safer for you, let's do it, baby. I wanna spend the rest of my life with you." He gave you that big, gigawatt, hopeful smile as you felt tears pour down your cheeks, ruining your makeup. "You up for seein' this face forever?" he joked.
That night, you answered him. Over and over again, making love until morning. Until you were both spent and ached so good from twisting your bodies in a hundred different positions. Until your thighs were soaked with his cum and all you could see, hear, and smell was him.
You were more than prepared to spend the rest of your life like that with him...and now, that's all gone. A fresh wave of grief overcomes you and you grip the pillow, stuffing your face into it. Once again, you say the same words you've been saying for three years like a prayer: "Satoru, come back to me. Please."
BANG!
The sound is so loud and abrupt that it scares you. You sit up immediately, your heart lurching into your throat. You look around the room only to find it empty, but then hear the familiar sound of the front door closing from downstairs. Someone is here. But who?
"H-Hello?" you call. "Shoko, is that you?"
No answer. It is completely silent all except for the birds chirping outside your window which only adds to the ominous feeling of the situation at hand. You never gave Shoko a spare key to your home and you're the only one who can get in and out. So who the fuck is in your house?
You then hear the familiar sound of footsteps coming up the stairs, one by one, as if the stranger is taking his sweet time doing so. You instantly reach for your phone to dial 911 and retreat to the bathroom across the room, but stop when a shadow crosses the bedroom wall, and then a figure appears in the threshold of the bedroom you used to share with your fiance.
You stare at the figure hard as if it's difficult for you to decipher it, but it's impossible not to know who it is. You can tell from how tall he is as he stands there, towering over you in the doorway. You can tell from his lean body sinewy with muscles under his black clothes. You can tell from his pale skin, snow-white hair you used to love to run your fingers through, and iced, blue eyes that stare right through you.
That same lovely, adorable, sexy, dazzling grin crosses his pillowy-soft, pink lips as he stares at you from across the room. “Honey, I’m home," Gojo chirps as if he just walked in from a hard day at work.
You stare him down, afraid to move or speak in fear of ruining this or exposing it for what it is: a trick. A mirage. A hallucination caused by too much alcohol or weed (unlikely, but still). Is this a dream? Are you dead? Did you go ahead and drink yourself to death like Shoko foresaw?
He walks toward you, slowly as if to not frighten you further. You stay on the bed, afraid to move. You're trembling. He finally stops just at arm's length from you, that same smile and warm gaze still on his face. “T-Tarou?” you whisper, finding your voice.
“In the flesh," he replies in that easy, sexy drawl that you've always loved. So careless. So laidback. His expression grows concerned, his brows drawn together. “How ya doin’, baby?” he asks. Your heart flips at the sound of that pet name. You haven't heard it in so, so long.
You scamper towards him, wanting to get closer to him, but then stop, afraid to. He doesn't react to either, still standing there and waiting for you to process this. “No,” you whisper. “This isn’t real. I’m just high as fuck right now.” You put your hands in your hair, gripping the dark coils/braids/locs/curls/twists harshly.
You know that this isn't possible. You haven't touched any weed since yesterday morning, wanting to give yourself a break. Gojo whistles as he nods at the bong sitting on your bedside table. “Well, judging from that, probably so. You got any left? I could use it after the 3 years I’ve had.”
You don't answer. You barely even breathe, afraid to do so in fear of putting a tear in the fabric of this moment and ripping it apart. You still can't tell if this is really happening. Is it a trick of your cursed grief making you see shit? Could it be that a Curse is here and has somehow taken over Gojo's body, and now, they're here to kill you? You would rather take that than this uncertainty.
Gojo suddenly raises his hand toward you as if to touch you, but doesn't. “Touch me," he encourages. Though hesitant, you lift a tentative hand and stroke your fingers over his veiny arm. All you feel is solid, soft, warm skin. Gojo's smile gets bigger. “See? I’m real. It’s really me, baby.”
And suddenly, the fog over your mind has been cleared and you can see clearly. All is for certain, including that the man standing here is your man. Your 'Tarou. “It’s really you,” you whimper. “Oh, my God….oh, my God!” You can't stop the tears or the blubbering as relief and utter joy wash over you.
Gojo opens your arms for you and he barely budges as you shoot into them, not even making him stagger. You bury your head in his chest, breathing in his scent and moving your hands over his back muscles. “I’ve missed you,” you sob. “I’ve missed you so, so much, Satoru! It’s been awful!”
He holds you tight to him, solid and absolutely real. “Shhh, I’m sorry, Y/N,” he coos. “I would’ve come back sooner, but I had to take care of some things.”
You pull away to look up at him through your blurred vision. He doesn't appear hurt or bruised. In fact, he looks the exact same he did before he was sealed in that box. “What do you–“
“And I’ll tell you everything after I get some pussy.”
You pause, processing his abrupt words. “What?” you scoff. “But what about all that's happened? How'd you even escape the Prison Realm? Have you eaten or drank? What about–"
Gojo, impatient, presses a long finger to your lips. “Forget about all of that right now, Y/N. Worry about the fact that you haven’t seen me in three years and you’re dying for me to put you in the mattress again.”
Then that familiar, dark, lustful look crosses his eyes like an eclipse, taking over him. “I think you’re understanding me clearly," he says, his voice dipping an octave lower than usual. “Daddy’s home, baby. Now take your fuckin’ clothes off.”
You stare at him hard, wondering if he is serious. You haven’t seen him in three years. You have so many more questions to ask him. Like what did he do while sealed? Did he see Yuji, Megumi and Nobara before he came? Were they the ones that got him out? Is he okay? 
But from the way he is staring you down like he wants to take a piece of you, you can tell that all of those questions will have to just wait to be answered. Plus, the last one is already answered for you: no, he isn’t okay. He is fucking feening for you. He needs you. You can tell from the way his hands grip you closer and from the feeling of his semi hard-on pressing into your thigh from inside his pants. 
You can’t imagine what three years without sex was like and you don’t want to. So you’re more than happy to give him whatever he is looking for right now. “O-Okay, Gojo,” you softly stutter. Your hands move to his top to unbutton it, first starting at the bottom. But your hands fumble and shake as if this is the first time you’re doing this for him. 
“Takin’ too long,” Gojo growls, impatient. Tearing your hands away from his shirt, he immediately rips the $1,000 top off of you, revealing your laced bra and panties underneath. You squeak as he does so, alarmed. “Gojo, your shirt!” you gasp, especially when the buttons fly all over the place. 
“Forget the fuckin’ shirt,” he says, his voice all but a rasp. "I’ll get a new one. It’s not fair how sexy you look in my clothes, sweetheart.” He presses his lips to your chest, breathing you in for a moment. “God, I’ve missed your smell,” he sighs. “I’ve missed how you feel. I’ve missed you so, so much.” He pulls away then, looking down at your hand. “And you’re still wearing the ring,” he points out. 
You look down at your hand where the sterling silver engagement ring sits, its diamonds sparkling at you. “Of course,” you whisper. “I never took it off. I’m engaged to you.” You want to tell him that you always dreamed he’d come back, that you wanted him to see you with it when he did. 
“So there’s been no one else?” he suddenly asks, his eyes sizing you up. “You haven’t been with any other man besides me?” Immediately, you shake your head. “No, Daddy,” you whisper, immediately falling back into the soft, obedient, submissive state that you always slide into with him as if it’s natural to you. And it is. He makes you feel so safe and loved and kept. It’s impossible not to do so all for him. “There’s been no one,” you say. “No one can ever make me feel the way you do.” 
A crooked smirk crosses Gojo’s lips that has you quivering in between your thighs. “So one has played with this body but me?” he asks. “No one has played with that pussy but me?” Again, you shake your head, your breath becoming short and labored. His eyes seem to dark even more, becoming an ocean blue. “That’s what I wanna hear,” he whispers. Then his lips are finally, finally, on yours, his tongue dancing and swirling with yours, creating a wet, sloppy, feverish kiss that takes your breath away. 
You moan wantonly into his mouth, wrapping your arms around him. Oh, how you’ve missed this. How you’ve only prayed to feel these lips again. At some point during the dizzying kissing session, Gojo pulls his clothes off, breaking apart from you to strip himself of his shirt, pants, and shoes, leaving himself in his designer briefs that look way tighter than usual.
Actually, now that you’re noticing it, his entire body looks buffer than usual. Gojo has always had muscles but was leaner three years ago. Now, his muscles are more defined, pushing up against his shirt when he has it on. 
He smirks at your wandering eyes. “Something you like, mama?” he purrs. He takes your hand, running it over his hard abs and chiseled abs where his pink nipples are hard for you, ready to be sucked. “Something…different?” 
“It’s just…you’re so…” You shudder in delight as he slides your hand down his stomach that you could bake cookies on. “Big,” you decide, running your free hand up his forearm. “You don’t have much to do in the Prison Realm except work out and masturbate,” he chuckles. “I wanted to be bigger and stronger for you when I was finally free. And I wanna let you know something, baby.” He leans in then, pressing his lips against your ear. “It’s all yours,” he whispers. “This body…this cock…everything. All of it is yours.” 
You shudder again as his dirty words swirl in your mind. He pulls away, smirking at you. “Lemme show you what I mean.” Then, instantly, he is snapping off your bra and flinging it away before his lips and hands are latching to your nipples. He sucks and licks at your hard, brown nipples like a hungered man, his hands groping the sensitive globes and pinching your nipples with his long, piano fingers. “Look at these beautiful fuckin’ titties,” he says, more to himself than to you. “I’ve missed my girls so much.” 
Your head falls back and your mouth opens, captured by the pleasure he is giving you. “S-Satoru,” you whimper. Every graze of his teeth and lick of his skillful tongue has your pussy gushing. You haven’t been this wet in three years! Actually, you haven’t even been horny in three years. No one has ever been able to arouse you the way Gojo can. 
You find yourself rolling your hips against his knee as your hands grasp his broad shoulders for balance and leverage. Gojo hums as you grind your wet, panty-covered pussy against his knee, smirking up at you playfully. “Grindin’ that pussy on my leg, hm?” he tuts. “Even after three years, you’re still a little slut. I wouldn’t have it any other way though.”
He gives one of your titties one last suck before he shoves himself away from you. You stare up at him, confused, while he only gives you a stern look. “Get on the bed and open your legs. I need that pussy in my face.” 
You are helpless to refuse him, especially when your pussy is begging and sobbing for the same thing. You quickly hurry onto the bed and sit back onto your elbows as you open your legs for him. Gojo is between them immediately, his hands ripping off your panties as if they are no more than strings. As soon as he gets a look at your puffy, wet pussy leaking for him, he groans and his cock visibly twitches in his pants. “Shit,” he hisses. “I’ve missed her too.” 
And then he’s giving in like he would the cleanest, purest, bluest waters, his hands under your ass to give him a better angle and a better way to plunge his tongue deeper inside you. He laps and sucks at your pussy and sensitive clit, his tongue flicking and swirling around your hole like he needs it. Craves it.
You grab at his hair, pushing his head deeper into you as you wail and moan to the heavens above. “O-Oh, my God!” you cry out to the ceiling. “‘Tatoru, yes, more! Please give me more! Don’t stop!” 
Your voice bounces off of the bedroom walls, unbound and unashamed. You haven’t had this kind of pleasure––so intense and explosive––in so long. His wet mouth and soft lips feel so good. His nose brushing against your clit as his tongue swirls inside your pussy is beyond. You feel incredible…too incredible. Gojo works his mouth fast, pulling you quickly towards an orgasm that gathers in your core and threatens to tumble down over you.
“Wait, Daddy!” you protest. “Slow down! ‘M gonna cum too fast!” 
Gojo’s blue eyes peer up at you through long, white lashes as he continues to lap at your cunt. “Do it,” he demands. “‘Cause I’m finna make you cum as many times as I want to. I’ll make you cream your pretty brains out till dawn, baby. I’m making up for lost time.” 
He ducks back down, going faster, and even adding his long index and middle fingers inside of the wet, tight depths of your pussy. Your walls clench around him instantly as he expertly finds your G-spot and begins gliding his fingers up against it, encouraging you to cum with every stroke of his fingers and tongue. “Do it,” he orders. “Cum for me. Cum around my fingers and my tongue, gorgeous. I’ve got you. I promise.” 
And you know he does. He grips one of your hips with one hand as he finger fucks you with the other, humming “mm-hmm” and other encouraging words that are smothered by your pussy as he drags you closer to your orgasm. When it finally breaks, it crashes onto you like a wave, causing your back to arch off of the bed like you’re experiencing an exorcism. “Fuck!” you sob as you feel your body shake and shudder through your earth-shattering orgasm. 
Moans of Gojo’s government and curses to the stars leave your lips as Gojo carries you through your mind-blowing, body-shaking, earth-quaking orgasm…and even after, when your body aches and your heart is pounding, he continues to eat your pussy.
He continues to lap and suck at your lips, cleaning up the cum that dribbles out your hole and down your asscrack. He licks there too, moaning breathlessly and wantonly as he does. Finally, when he is good and satisfied, he pulls away from you and sits back onto his hands, breathing heavily with his chin and lips shiny with your juices and his saliva. 
A weak moan leaves your lips as your pussy twitches in delight and exhaustion at being stimulated. You feel so, so good. So free. You finally feel as if the sun has finally shown itself behind the gray clouds that have darkened your life for three years. You look at your man adoringly, wanting him to know how much you love him and how good he has made you feel. “Gojo,” you sigh. “That was amazing. I–“ 
“Open your mouth,” he demands. You button your lip, your words failing you immediately. You stare at him blankly, your post-orgasm brain not quite processing his words. Gojo sits up on his knees on the mattress, grabbing his cock in his pants. “You fuckin’ heard me,” he growls. “Open that slutty mouth, now. Don’t make me tell you again, little girl.” He pins you down with an intimidating look that is only intensified by his sapphire eyes. 
Once again, you can’t deny him. While still recovering from your orgasm, you open your mouth wide for him, your plump lips covering your teeth and your tongue out. Just the way he likes it. Gojo walks towards you on his knees and stays beside you as he unbuttons his pants. In one swift motion, he takes down his pants and his briefs, causing his cock to pop out. The long, thick, veiny appendage, bubbling with pre-cum from its pink head, lightly slaps you in the face, causing you to gasp. 
Gojo grabs your neck rather roughly, pulling you towards his cock without properly preparing you or waiting for you to prepare yourself. You stare down at his large dick, alarmed at how hard he is. The veins in his shaft throb as does his head that is quickly turning from a soft pink to an angry red. “Gojo, hold up–“ 
But your words are interrupted by his cock sliding between your lips. A hiss of relief leaves Gojo’s lips as he grips your neck, beginning to rut his hips deep into your mouth. “Sorry, mama,” he groans, “but I can’t be nice to that throat today. I’m just too pent-up. You understand, right?”
You can’t even answer. His cock is too thick; too big; it stretches your mouth out too wide, making your jaw hurt. But all you have to do is breathe through your nose and take it, which Gojo tells you to do so, as he begins to fuck your throat like it’s your pussy. Like it’s his own personal fleshlight. 
“Fuckin’ fuck yes!” Gojo loudly grunts, his voice completely primal and animalistic as he roughly fucks your throat. Though he has fucked your throat before, this time, it feels much, much different. He grips your hair and makes your scalp sting with how much he pulls it. He plunges your throat so fast and so hard in your sloppy throat that saliva drips down your chin and down your tits. He turns your face into his fuck toy, doing with it as he pleases. 
But though primal and animalistic, he is still completely involved with your pleasure. When you suddenly feel his fingers quickly rubbing your clit after licking his palm, your body lurches and your thighs twitch while you whine and protest feebly around his cock. “Theeeere we go,” he chuckles. “That’s what I want. Feel good with me, mama. This is where your weak, right? Right here?” 
He applies more pressure, rubbing your rosebud in time with his thrusts into your throat, his balls swinging against your chin. All you can feel, taste, and smell is him. Your senses are completely overtaken by him. “T-Tawou!” You moan around his cock. “Two mwuch! ‘M sensitive!” Your words are a muffled, jumbled mess around his thick dick, causing more spit to fall from your mouth as you try to speak. 
You go to close your legs, but Gojo’s hand yanking on your hair stops you short. “Uh-uh, sweetie,” he teasingly says. “Don't pull away. You owe me this.” He pushes your head farther down his cock, bottoming out in your mouth, causing him to moan so loud that it echoes in the bedroom. “You owe me this for stayin’ so damn sexy after so long. How is that even possible?” He questions you repeatedly as he fucks your throat harder and faster, grunting as he does so. "How's that possible, huh? Huh? Tell me, baby.” 
You are turned into a total and complete hole the more he fucks your mouth and flicks your clit, bringing you to yet another orgasm that has your thighs shaking. Finally, he releases your hair and lets you pull away, causing his cock to pop out of your mouth. “Gonna cum!” you whine, spit and cum all over your mouth. “I’m cummin’ again, Satoru!” 
Gojo stares at your pussy like a kid in a candy store as you cum once again, gushing all around his long fingers and all over the bedsheets. “Gooood girl!” he praises you. “Cum on these fingers, baby. Gimme what I want, but don't get too distracted, mmkay?” He takes his cock and slides himself back home into your mouth even as you moan and your body writhes on the bed. 
“Yes, yes, yes,” he chants, transfixed by the way your body moves and your pussy clenches. “That’s what I want. This is what I need.”
He rubs at your clit until he can feel your exhausted body jerking from the aftershocks. He finally pulls away from you then, cock and all, though he is still hard and throbbing. “I need to fuck you now,” he growls, desperation in his eyes. “And I can’t stop until I cum inside you, baby…without a rubber. Is that okay with you?” 
You blink at him, your sight slightly blurred from the two orgasms and your throat raw from it being fucked into oblivion. He must know that you will say yes. He must know that you’ll say yes to anyone he wants or needs. But yet, he still asks because safe sex has always been a priority with him in your relationship. He has always used condoms and has always made a point to not do anything involving PIV sex if he happened to run out.
But now, here he is, telling you that he needs to fuck you raw and cum inside you, possibly breeding you. And you find yourself burning for the same thing like a wildfire has lit inside you. You lean back against the pillows and open your cum-soaked thighs for him, showing him your glistening, puffy, sensitive pussy. “Yes,” you reply. “Fuck me, Daddy. Cum inside me. Breed me.” 
Gojo stares at your pussy, spread open for him like it’s spun gold. Suddenly, the loving, silly, goofy man you’ve grown to love is gone, replaced with one who is starved, rough, demanding, and merciless. It thrills and frightens you.
“Oh, you’re gonna fuckin’ get it, girl,” he growls before he grabs you, tosses you onto your back, and gets on top of you. “I’m gonna fuck you till you’re spent,” he promises as he throws your legs over his shoulders and prepares to slide deep inside of you until his balls touch your ass. 
When he says this, he means it. Baby, Gojo has you in every position known to man.
He starts first by fucking you in missionary, giving you deep, deep dick that nearly touches your soul and makes you see stars. One of his big, veiny hands wraps around your throat, squeezing gently on your windpipe, while the other pins your thigh open as his cock plunges in and out of your wet, sobbing cunt. He pounds you into the mattress, his big body pressing against yours and his hips nailing your pelvis. 
Then he has you on top in 69, his hands groping and smacking your jiggly ass while he, once again, stuffs his face in your cunt. You suck his dick in time with his tongue laps, gagging and slobbering all over his cock much to his delight. It is sloppy and dirty and messy…and you love every minute of it.
You love how his pubic hairs tickle your chin the deeper you slide him down your throat. You love how your eyes sting with tears as he tickles the back of your throat. You love the way his tongue slides from your pussy hole to your asshole, lapping at each one as if they’re the best things he’s ever tasted. 
He fucks on your back, hanging off the bed. He fucks you on your stomach, your ass tooted up while his feet are firmly planted on the bed, hammering his dick deep inside of you. He sucks you on your side, his hands cupping your jiggling breasts while his lips caress your neck and shoulder. And he makes you cum every. Single. Time. 
By the time he has you on your knees with his cock buried deep in your pussy once again and your arms pulled behind your back, your body is aching for rest and your pussy is a mushy, gushy mess around his cock. 
But still you persist, moaning and screaming at the top of your lungs the harder he fucks you. Your voice, along with his own, the creaking bedsprings, and the sound of skin slapping against skin, fills the air around you. “Yes, yes, Daddy, yes, fuck me!” you babble, your words a jumbled mess.
Gojo cackles from behind you, loving how slutty and broken you are on his cock. “You feelin’ good, baby?” he asks. “This dick makin’ you feel good? Don’t have to use those damn toys or those fingers anymore, no. You’ve got me now and I’ll take good, good care of this pussy.” 
He slams his hips harder against your ass, making it bounce and jiggle. The harder he goes, the more intense your orgasm gets and you find yourself about to have your sixth orgasm of the day…or night. Is it nighttime now? You can't tell. You’ve been at this for hours, fucking and cumming all over the bed. You don't even know what day it is anymore.
All you can think about is Gojo’s dick and cumming on it. “Shit, I’m gonna cum again!” you sob. 
Gojo’s hand circles around your throat, choking you. “Cum on this dick,” he demands. “Do it! Fuckin’ do it for me, baby!”
And you do. Like a puppet on a string being controlled by the white-haired, big-dicked man behind you, you writhe in the air and cum all over his cock. A weak, long moan leaves your lips as you come undone, all self-control leaving you. Gojo pulls out of you with a hiss, talking about how “fuckin’ tight” you are. When you’re released, your arms fall to your sides as you crumble onto the mattress, falling face-first into the pillow. Your body is hot and sweaty, your pussy is twitching, your ass is stinging from his assault on it. You are completely spent. 
Gojo leans down to kiss your forehead, smiling at your exhaustion. “Aww, is my baby tired now?” he coos. You weakly moan in response, too tired to speak. “Too bad because I still need to cum inside you. You did ask me to breed you and I’ve gotta make this count.” 
Before you can even protest, he is grabbing your weak body and forcing you onto your knees, hiking your ass up for him. He sinks into your overly sensitive, used pussy once more, drawing a moan out of both of you. You let him do as he pleases, too exhausted to fight or argue.
He takes hold of your hips and ruts into you like his life depends on it, nailing that spot again and again that makes you see the entire universe behind your eyelids. It feels so damn good. He fucks you at a breakneck pace, going faster with each second that passes. “O-Oh, s-shit!” you scream into the mattress. “F-Fuck, Daddy, f-f-u-uck!” 
Gojo’s fucking is egged on by your moans, his pelvis slamming into your ass and taking your very breath away. “Take this cock,” he groans. “Take all of this dick, baby. It’s yours. All of it is fuckin’ yours. It always was and always will be.” He hikes up his leg and fucks you on one knee, causing him to grow louder and his moans to become more desperate and needy. 
“God, I missed this!” he whines. “I’ve been fucking burning for you, baby. Needed you so, so much!” You picture him in the Prison Realm, his hand wrapped around his cock as he is surrounded by darkness and loneliness. As tears spring into your eyes, you lift yourself up onto weak arms to look back at him. “Then show me,” you whisper. “Show me how much you’ve missed me. Cum inside me, ‘Tarou, baby.” 
You begin to toss your ass back into him, meeting his every thrust. Gojo takes what you give him and serves it right back, moving in tandem with you. “You want me to cum?” he asks. You nod, moaning and whimpering as you feel his cock begin to swell inside you. “You want me to feel that pussy up?” he grunts. “Want me to make you a mommy? Want me to give you a kid? My kid?” 
He begins to pound your pussy into the mattress again, picking up speed. You can feel your last orgasm rising, ready to rip through you. “Say it to me, mama,” he demands. “Tell me you want my baby. Lemme hear it.” 
“Yes!” you cry out. “Yes, Satoru, I want your child! I wanna mother your baby!” That must please Gojo because he begins rolling his hips harshly against your ass, rutting into you like he’s trying to fit a home run. His handsome face is red and glittering in sweat, his snow-white hair plastered to his wet forehead.
“Can’t wait to see you full with me,” he groans. “Can’t wait till this tummy is round with my baby and those tits are full of milk. You’re gonna look so, so pretty carryin’ my baby, sweetheart. You’re gonna be the best mommy ever.” 
And he’ll be the best daddy ever. That is all you can think as you feel your own orgasm rising at the same time as him, like the sun and the moon rising in unison in the sky. Forever bonded. Forever together.
“Gonna cum,” Gojo warns. “Gonna cum deep inside you. You’d better cum with me too. Cum all over my cock, baby. Cum with me while I fill this little pussy up.” 
You nod and wail into the pillow, gripping it for dear life as another blinding orgasm rips through your body. Gojo fucks into your wet, cum-soaked pussy until he feels his own nut coming and he desperately fucks you to chase his high. “Cumming!” he babbles. “‘M cummin’, I’m cummin’, I’m cummin’!”
And when he fills you up, it’s explosive. It’s deep. It’s intense. It fills every part of you, filling you with warmth and the feeling of being absolutely filled to the brim. You weakly moan as you feel his cum fill your tummy, no doubt reaching your womb. He stills for a moment, plugging his cum inside you, before slowly and sloppily rocking his hips into you to fuck his cum deep into your pussy. 
When he is finally sure that you’re good and bred, he puts his hands on his narrow hips and whistles tiredly. “Shit,” he sighs. “I really needed that.” You moan in agreement. He then pulls out of you slowly, causing you to whimper quietly as your aching pussy is no longer filled.
He stares at it between your thighs, humming appetizingly. “Mmm, now that’s a sight: a pretty, fucked pussy drippin’ with my cum. Don’t mind if I do.” 
Then his mouth is between your thighs again, lapping gently at his and your cum mingled together all over your pussy and inner thighs. You arch your back for him, moaning softly at his soft, careful tongue strokes.
When he finishes, you turn to him, finding his semi-hard cock dripping with your mingled fluids. “You still got some left here, Daddy,” you coo before moving to lap up the cum you left behind on his cock. He allows it, his hand in your hair while he sighs about how good you are. 
Once you are cleaned up and all is said and done, the two of you finally lay side by side in your bed, together again at last. You curl into his chest, leaning your head against his heart and wrapping your arms around him. He welcomes it, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead “Welcome home, baby,” you whisper as you look up at him. “Now you gonna tell me how you got out?” 
He looks down at you, almost as if he forgot he was supposed to answer a bunch of your very important questions. “Oh, Itadori did that,” he explains like he’s telling you the weather. “He’s a smart kid, y’know. Say, you up for some sushi? I’m cravin’ some fish right now.” 
All you can do is laugh and kiss your man before getting the takeout menu that you keep in the nightstand next to the bed. All the important questions can wait.
For now, all you want and need is him.
THE END.
624 notes · View notes
exhaslo · 10 months
Note
Would you ever consider doing anything for Miguel/Fem!Deadpool reader?
One who's honestly just kind of tease which makes it impossible for Miguel to figure out *why* he hates her flirting with other spidermen so much until the penny hits.
Bonus points for recklessness and brat energy from DP we all know they aint got no self control. Needs Miguel to definitely put her in her place.
Ohhhh, I have seen so much fan art of just regular Deadpool being a menace to Miguel, Dr. Strange and the TVA. It gets me excited to see the new movie coming out!
But yea, let's give into the chaos!
Warning: MINORS DNI, Smut, bondage, angry sex?, p in v, language
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
"For fuck's sake, why is there so many anomaly's popping up in different universes?" Miguel barked, tapping against his screens as he sent numerous Spiderman and women out to the field.
"Actually, based on the energy signatures, it seems to be the same anomaly."
"Impossible, one person jumping around all of these?" Miguel cussed lowly, trying to identify the new anomaly.
This new frustration was giving Miguel a reason to want to drink tonight. The speed he was working to try and understand this problem was honestly amazing. This was probably the fastest he has ever worked.
"Wow! No wonder why all of the Spiders I met say great things about you!" You gasped.
"Que?! (What)" Miguel hissed, seeing both a new intruder alert and anomaly alert appear at the same time, "Who-"
"Haiiiiiii! Pleasure to meet you, sexy ass, my name is (Y/N), I'm like the hottest version of me there is-"
"I. Don't. Care." Miguel hissed, jumping down from his platform and approaching you, "This attire...fuck-"
"Yeeeeep! I'mma Deadpool!" You chirped.
Miguel pinched the bridge of his nose before taking long, deep breathes. Once he regained a portion of his composure, he proceeded to grab you by the collar and drag you to the 'Go Home' Machine.
At least one of his problems were solved today. Hopefully you will stay in your dimension. Trying to ignore your chatter, Miguel couldn't help but notice some of the other Spiders avoiding eye contact. This annoyed Miguel. How many of them ran into you before saying anything?
"Hm? Oh like half of them." You replied. Miguel groaned loudly,
"Wasn't even a thought bubble," He muttered under his breathe before arriving in the room, "I don't want to see you here again. Stay in your world."
"Awe, but isn't fun! Not when I found such a squeezable ass-"
"Send. Her. Home!" Miguel spat.
It only took a second, but you were sent home immediately. Miguel took another deep breathe before returning to his office to hopefully relax.
----------
"Hehe, he gets so mad when he finds me wandering around this place. It totally isn't my fault that all of you guys think of taking a break here and I just-hop into those thoughts and end up here!" You huffed, talking to Peter B. Parker and Jessica.
"Yeah, yeah, we still don't understand the whole hopping into thought bubbles thing you say you do. It's so confusing." Peter huffed.
"Oh, it's pretty easy. I'd like to describe it as a comic book, but you guys won't understaaaaand, the readers will though!"
"Readers?" Jessica groaned softly. You just laughed,
"Oh yeah! The readers reading this now! So like, normally it's a comic I hop around or thought bubbles or I just rip through the screen, but this time...It's the readers who bring me here!"
"I think I'm more confused than when I started," Peter whined and turned to Jessica who tossed you into the 'Go Home' machine, "Look, just...don't come back before Miguel gets bad again."
"Hpmh! I just said it isn't my fault I keep coming back!" You whined loudly, "The readers and writer keeps bringing me here! I am meant to share my wisdom to Miguel!"
"Why do I hear that Deadpool's voice?" Miguel grumbled, holding a cup of coffee as he walked by, "Again?"
"See! He neeeeeeds me! That has to be why the writer keeps putting me here!"
"What the hell is she babbling about now?"
"Please, don't ask. I don't think my brain can handle anymore." Peter whimpered. Jessica waved him aside,
"She's going home now, Miguel."
Just as the machine turned on, you immediately got sent home. Miguel let out a sigh of relief and right when he was going to drink his coffee, you appeared behind him.
"Fuck!" Miguel yelled as he noticed you. You just casually waved,
"Believe in the spirits beyond."
"I want her gone!"
"Miguel, we've tried so many times. I think...we just need to accept her appearing here." Jessica whispered. You grabbed Miguel's cup, taking a sip,
"Oof, so bitter. So now that I can stay here under the writer decides to let me go home, wanna show me around, big boy?"
Miguel felt his eye twitch as he followed you, mainly just wanting his coffee back.
------------
It has been a few weeks since you've stayed at the-
"Whoa, whoa. Really writer? You gonna make here stay here for weeks without going home?" You huffed.
Okay, sorry, um, it has been a few weeks since you started to willingly appear at the Spider Society.
"Thank you!"
....
Uh, anyway, Miguel has finally started to tolerate you to a certain degree. You still couldn't understand why you kept appearing there, but you were making the most of it. Miguel on the other hand, was starting to find something new to irritate him.
"It's just so fascinating how different each of you are~ Can I touch those wonderful large boobs of yours?" You whispered in awe towards a Spiderman. Yes a Spiderman.
"They're not boobs."
"It's okay to not want to admit your flaws. I buried mine with my neighbor." You whispered, slowly reaching out to the boob.
"Enough." Miguel hissed, grabbing the back of your collar and dragging you to his office.
"Hey! I was about to grab something that could have been the most magically experience of my life!"
Miguel chose to ignore you, growing annoyed at your bratty and quite ignorant behavior. Honestly, he was more annoyed by the amount of flirting you've been doing with the other Spiders. You just didn't know when to stop.
"I can't help it. A natural icon I am," You chuckled and grabbed Miguel's ass, "But this...is a multiverse icon."
Miguel's eyes lit up as he locked his door and tossed you on his platform. In an instant, he webbed you in place, making sure that you couldn't move to try to free yourself.
"Ohhhh~ This is kinky~" You cooed, rolling around like a worm. Miguel pinned you to the floor, his blood red eyes piercing into yours,
"Do you know how frustrated you make me?"
"So...you aren't happy to see me?" You grinned, your knee poking at his growing erection, "I made you horny!"
"Silence," Miguel covered your mouth, "Shit, you're so annoying. No one has been able to put you in your place. Do I need to be the one to do that?" He said with a huff.
You licked his hand in response, "Awe, not sure if a fucking will stop me, but you are so willing to try~" You hummed.
Miguel felt his eye twitch as he captured your lips in a kiss, wanting to shut you up. You couldn't help yourself and smirked, enjoying this moment. Parting your lips, you hummed as Miguel forced his tongue into your mouth, his hands roaming your body.
"Mhm~ Gim....sq..." You tried to say. Miguel broke the kiss, glaring towards your,
"What?" He grumbled, biting and sucking against your neck. You chuckled as his hands reached your breasts,
"Give em a squeeze~ You know you wanna~"
"Do I have to shut your mouth again?" Miguel grumbled, kissing you again.
You tried your best to behave, you truly did. You couldn't help but try to grind against his hips, press your chest to his, or even kiss his neck. Miguel was ready to web your mouth, at least until he started to rub your-
"Whoa, whoa, writer, now I don't mind a good sex scene, but lemme have some privacy here!" You huffed.
Uh, I kind of wrote smut in the warning...so I'm giving the readers what they want, a sex scene.
"Well, I want this man to myself right now! You write other smuts! Let them read those!"
But they wanted this...I can't just-
"Consent!" You huffed, literally spreading your legs towards a feral Miguel who had you pinned, "This is different! I'm totally into this freaky shit!"
"Who are you talking too?" Miguel grumbled, ripping your suit. You shushed towards him,
"The writer! Wait juuuuust a second before shoving that monster of a cock inside me!"
I need to give them a sex scene here. You're already helping me write it.
"No, no! You are trying to write it. I'm trying to enjoy the moment. So be a good writer and juuuuuuuust-"
---------
"Thank you~"
What just happened?
"Oh, I totally skipped the part where Miguel fucked me so good that I actually did shut up. Hell, I think I still feel weak in the knees. Who would have known the stamina and strength that man had. Fucking hot, can't wait to-"
You skipped my story?! I'm the writer here!
"Yeaaaaaah, but like, you can always write more smut. Let me just enjoy that moment to me~. I'm sure you understand~" You cooed.
...
"Hehe, go on. End the story. I'm sure you have other smut to write."
I just- Whatever.
Let's just say, you made yourself a permanent member of the Spider Society. You made sure to annoy Miguel just enough so that he could keep teaching you a lesson. Hopefully, we'll get to see one of those lessons one of these days.
"Maybe~ If I decide to show the goods."
Freaking Deadpools.
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Hahaha, hope you enjoyed! I always loved it when Deadpool would just talk to the narrator or hop comic pages sometimes. It was great.
@tojishugetiddies
428 notes · View notes
sdvbraindump · 26 days
Note
sdv bachelors react to you being upset/mad because they forgot your relationship anniversary
Sorry for it being so late but I wanted to give this proper attention without being distracted from other writing.
Hope you like it! CW: light cursing, possible typos ❤️
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Alex
Ahhh Alex... bless his heart. He'd text you in the middle of the day about something random and wouldn't pick up on your attitude through the messages. He'd think it's something else like the farm that's making you upset. But once he realizes he forgot your anniversary (he's weightlifting when he remembers), he's cursing himself out. He runs to Grandma Evelyn or bff Haley for help because he's not sure how to make it up to you.
He knows your favorite things but even he gets that he needs to step it up BIG TIME. A simple gift isn't going to be enough. After some brainstorming, he plans a special picnic that he made himself (with the help of Evelyn/Haley because he doesn't know how to cook nor does he want to poison you).
The only problem is he decides to do this all at 12:30 at night and you went to bed already (angry). He comes knocking on your door with a basket in tow. You're half asleep asking WHY did he think that the middle of the night was appropriate to go on a picnic. His answer is because he wanted to eat under the stars with you. You suspect he didn't think of that on his own, but when he mentions he made the food himself (reinforcing that Evelyn/Haley helped) your anger melts a little. You also realize that he's usually in bed by 9 so him being up so late means he screwed up and trying his best.
You end up sighing and inviting him in, insisting you two eat indoors. You also tell him he's staying over (sleeping on the couch though) to help you on the farm in the morning as part of him making it up to you. You already have planned for him to lift all those heavy fertilizer sacks to the other side of the farm.
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Elliott
Elliott would rather be eaten by crabs than forget your anniversary. You're his muse after all. He might try to say it's another day just to see how you would react. But it would only last a few minutes before he consoles and reassures you that he knows the exact day.
Only exception is if he's deep into his work and loses track of time. He's in the middle of writing his novel, riding a huge creative wave that decided to come out the morning of your anniversary. He's so consumed by his writing, happy that his writer's block is gone, that he doesn't pay attention to the clock or remember that he was supposed to come by your farmhouse for dinner that night.
He'd be so tuned in that he doesn't stop until about 10 at night. He finally steps back from his desk admiring all the writing he completes and catches a glimpse of his calendar. When he sees what day it is, he's in shock. He also remembers he was supposed to come by your place almost three hours ago! He is beyond disgusted with himself!
He runs out of his cabin, clutching his gift to you in his hands. It's a journal that contains a collection of handwritten poems he started writing the day after you gave him a bouquet. He was waiting to give this to you today to show how much you mean to him.
He heads straight to your farm, and when you open the door (incredibly pissed) he's on his knees. He's grabbing your waist before he kisses your hand begging for forgiveness. He repeats that he's sorry over and over again, affirming that he loves you and will never let his creative process get in the way again all while hanging onto your waist. You're still mad, but you know that it would take a lot to make him forget. And when you see the journal you realize he truly cares. You're still mad, but it's starting to fade.
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Harvey
Harvey thought he was going to be alone for the rest of his life. But then you came and changed everything. There's no way this man would dare to forget your anniversary. He has it marked down on his calendar, set as an alarm on his phone, AND made sure Maru noted it on the clinic schedule.
But sadly, there's a stressful medical emergency that keeps him away from you on your anniversary. You might think he forgot when he didn't respond to your calls earlier that day. But nope-he just got distracted with work. And according to him, it's equally terrible mainly because he had been hinting for weeks he was going to take the day off for you. And of course that morning he had to take someone into emergency surgery (damn mines!).
As soon as he's out of surgery, he checks his phone to see all your missed calls and texts. He dials your number without checking your voicemail or messages to apologize but when you don't answer he thinks your silence means you want to break up (you don't but it's been a long time since he's been involved with anyone and he's a worrier so he thinks the worst thing).
He changes out of his messy scrubs into something more appropriate and heads to your farm. He's still dialing your number (he's not texting-he doesn't trust the tone in those messages won't get lost) as he rushes to your house. When he sees your lights are on he runs up the stairs and quickly knocks. He apologizes profusely even when you haven't opened the door right away. He doesn't let you get in a word as he explains he was stuck in surgery and he couldn't reach you.
When you see he's still wearing his surgical cap (he forgot to take it off), you realize he's telling the truth. Your anger begins to subside but when he tells you he's going to make it up by taking the next day off (not sure how but he'll get someone in the town next door to help), it's nearly gone.
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Sam
Sam would be the bachelor to forget your anniversary. It's not that he doesn't care. It's just that he's never been in a relationship this serious until you came along. He doesn't understand the significance of dates yet. It's just another day, right?
You came over to his house after you finished your chores like always, but this time you have special gifts for him (a set of custom guitar picks, and maple bars you made the night before). When he sees what you brought him he's psyched and thankful but doesn't know why you have so much stuff with you. When you remind him it's your anniversary he (nervously) laughs. But when he sees your reaction his smile is gone. He doesn't go after you when you abruptly leave because he's embarrassed.
When Jodi hears you leaving, she goes to check on Sam and he tells her what happened. Clearly disappointed, she enforces how important anniversaries are (and that she likes you too much to see you hurt by his immaturity) and insists he makes it up to you. He knows he already messed up, but now he just screwed himself over more by laughing. He texts later that day but other than that you don't hear from him (making you even more angry/upset).
Later that evening he comes by the farm, arriving at your door in a white button-down and khakis with his spiky hair brushed out (Jodi told him to dress like this). His apology sounds like a script at first (again, Jodi influenced him), but when he tells you that this is all new to him you realize that he's willing to learn from his mistakes.
He then invites you for a walk which ends up being a quick trip up the steps to the mountains. Once you're on the landing, you see he set up a blanket with fairy lights around neighboring trees with his guitar lying next to a bouquet of flowers (you recognize the flowers are from Mayor Lewis's house but you ignore it because you hate Lewis anyway). He then guides you to sit on the blanket before he joins you, saying he started to write a song for you weeks after you started dating. And while it's still not finished he wants to sing it to you that night. You're still mad/hurt but recognize he's trying.
(no seriously I cooked here)
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Sebastian
Sebastian is another bachelor who would most likely lose track of time and forget your anniversary. Programming takes A LOT of time and deadlines are always looming. This time he's taken on a huge 2-week job that could set him up for a future full-time role. It also doesn't help that he still hasn't figured out what to do for your anniversary so this gig is a great distraction (seriously, he's been trying to think of something for weeks but nothing seems right).
You come by his house that morning and Robin greets you saying Sebby is locked in his room working on "something." You let yourself into his room like always but he doesn't move when you come in. You try to get his attention but he's hyper-fixated on his work, headphones on, and eyes glued to his monitor. You've never seen him like this, and it takes him a bit to notice you. He gives a quick hi and says while he wants to talk he needs to finish before 5PM that day. He's in the zone that even the disappointed look on your face doesn't affect him. He doesn't see you leaving his room or that you slammed his door so hard it shook the walls.
He finishes his work before deadline and heads to his kitchen but is stopped by Robin asking if he spoke to you earlier. He's still feeling the aftermath of work so he's still in work mode, not understanding what she meant. He finally checks his phone and sees in his reminders that above the 5PM deadline alarm is the note of your anniversary. OH SHIT!
He calls you, grateful that you picked up the phone, and apologizes like crazy. Noticing the tone in your voice is hostile, he asks if he could come over and you reluctantly agree. He shows up at your house on his motorcycle 10 minutes later and asks you to join him on a ride. You're not in the mood but he apologizes again and insists you get on. It takes a bit of convincing but you jump on.
He takes you to the cliff overlooking Zuzu City, the same place he brought you when your relationship was fresh. He's upfront when he tells you he was trying to figure out what to do for you for today but he was stumped in what to get you. He admits that he was so into this latest job because if he did well he might be offered a full-time job with the company, thus being a better supporter for you (he knows you don't need his support like that but he still wants to give it).
He reassures you that he loves you and will never forget your anniversary again. And just like the first time he took you up there, you let him kiss you forgiving him.
(damn I cooked here too)
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Shane
This man will go through so many emotions in 2 hours if he forgets your anniversary. It all starts in the evening when Marnie sees him at the ranch (Lewis was coming over soon and Shane's cockblocking her plans). She mentioned that she spoke to you earlier in the day and thought he would be over on your farm. He's confused, but when she tells him you told her what day it is his face goes blank. His self-esteem takes a major hit.
You went out of your way to be nice when you first moved to town, continued to pursue a friendship despite him being rude to you, helped him during his darkest moments, accepted him flaws and all, asked him to be your boyfriend (he still can't believe that happened a year later BTW), and he couldn't even bother to remember your anniversary.
He didn't even pick up on your cues earlier in the day when you texted him. In his defense, you didn't mention you two's anniversary but he's kicking himself for not remembering on his own.
Seriously, why are you with him???
He calls you and worries when you don't pick up right away. He sends a text and calls again, relieved you take his second call. He doesn't have to hear your voice to know he's in trouble. He says sorry a dozen times in 1 minute, apologizing for his memory lapse. You keep your replies short before saying you're going to bed and you'll call him in the morning. He shudders when you hang up on him. Yep, he fucked up. And he needs to make it up to you TONIGHT.
Desperate, he asks Marnie to ask Lewis, or more threatens to out them to the town, to borrow his truck for the night. Yes, he's willing to strain that relationship if it means to get back on your good side. About a half hour later, he's on your farm in Lewi's truck. You're not asleep when he honks the horn, so you're outside in a few seconds to see what's going on.
Shane jumps out of the truck saying he's so sorry for forgetting about today, and is willing to drive you anywhere you want to go that night to make it up to you. You're more concerned about how he got Lewis's truck over his apology though. When he tells you what he did, all your anger/sadness is replaced with laughter. The fact that this man's willing to blackmail the mayor and his aunt is enough to make it up to you makes your sides hurt.
You smile and go back into your house to get your stuff. You remind yourself that your boyfriend is the same man who mailed frozen pizza and pepper poppers but he still tried. Not sure if you're now an accomplice but at least you have a funny story to tell.
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natsgrave · 15 days
Text
WHISPERS OF HEARTACHE | angstober
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╰┈➤ synopsis: one day whether you are, 14, 28, or 65, you will stumble upon someone who will start a fire in you that cannot die. however, the saddest, most awful truth you will ever come to find is they are not always with whom we spend our lives.
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╰┈➤ welcome and short message: hello, my sweet gravels! i am thrilled to welcome you to "whispers of heartache," a collection of angst-filled one shots centered around the compelling characters of natasha romanoff / scarlett johansson, wanda maximoff / elizabeth olsen, and a female reader. this book is a labor of love, crafted from my deep admiration for these characters and my passion for storytelling. in this book, you will find a series of emotionally charged stories that delve into the complexities of love, loss, and heartache. each one shot will be written in the third person point of view, offering a broad perspective on the intense and often tumultuous emotions experienced by the characters. i must share that english is not my first language. therefore, you may encounter some grammatical errors or awkward phrasing throughout the stories. i appreciate your understanding and patience as i strive to improve my writing skills. my goal is to convey the depth of emotions and the intricate dynamics between the characters, even if my language skills are still a work in progress. angst has a unique power to connect with readers on a deep, emotional level. it explores the raw, often painful aspects of human relationships and personal struggles. through these stories, i hope to capture the essence of what it means to love and to lose, to fight and to surrender. each tale is crafted to evoke empathy and reflection, inviting you to experience the characters' journeys as if they were your own. your reblogs and feedback is incredibly valuable to me. as i embark on this storytelling journey, i welcome your thoughts, suggestions, and constructive criticism. please feel free to leave comments and reviews. your input will not only help me grow as a writer but also ensure that the stories resonate with you, the readers. thank you for joining me in this exploration of the whispers of heartache. i hope that these one shots will touch your heart and leave a lasting impression. happy reading! warm regards, G.J ps: i will be adding the first few angst that i already wrote in this masterlist even though it's technically not part of this masterlist. but, it's angst, so...
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╰┈➤ tolerate it
while you were out building other worlds, where was i? you assume i'm fine, but what would you do if i break free and leave us in ruins? ── .✦ pairing: elizabeth olsen x gf!reader
╰┈➤ new year's day
i want your midnights, but I'll be cleaning up bottles with you on new year's day. please, don't ever become a stranger whose laugh i could recognize anywhere. ── .✦ pairing: sister's bsf!elizabeth x fem!reader
╰┈➤ midnight rain
she was sunshine, i was midnight rain. she wanted a bride, i was making my own name, chasing that fame. ── .✦ pairing: actress!elizabeth x fem!reader
╰┈➤ you're losing me
how can you say that you love someone you can't tell is dyin'? do i throw out everything we built or keep it? and you know what they all say, you don't know what you got until it's gone. ── .✦ pairing: wanda maximoff x fem!reader
╰┈➤ in the next lifetime
but in those photos, i saw us instead and, somehow, i know that you and i would've found each other in another life. you still would've turned my head even if we'd met. you're always gonna be mine, we're gonna be timeless. ── .✦ pairing: general's son!steve x general's daughter!reader, maid!natasha x general's daughter!reader, scarlett johansson x fem!reader
╰┈➤ the manuscript
the only thing that's left is the manuscript. one last souvenir from my trip to your shores. now and then i reread the manuscript but the story isn't mine anymore. ── .✦ pairing: wanda maximoff x fem!reader
╰┈➤ the smallest woman who ever lived
and i don't miss what we had, but could someone give a message to the smallest man who ever lived? ── .✦ pairing: avenger!natasha x ex hydra!reader
╰┈➤ favorite crime
i hope i was your favorite crime, 'cause baby, you were mine. ── .✦ pairing: bsf!wanda x fem!reader
╰┈➤ mean it
on your lips just leave it, if you don't mean it. ── .✦ pairing: scarlett johansson x gf!reader
╰┈➤ love me nicely
i know you love me, but could you love me nicely? ── .✦ pairing: toxic!elizabeth x gf!reader
╰┈➤ if the world was ending
i know, you know, we know, you weren't down for forever and it's fine. i know, you know, we know, we weren't meant for each other and it's fine. but if the world was ending you'd come over, right? ── .✦ pairing: avenger!wanda x fem!reader
╰┈➤ soulmate
what a shame, didn't want to be the one that got away. taking down the pictures and the plans we made. big mistake, you broke the sweetest promise that you never should have made. ── .✦ pairing: fiance!elizabeth x fem!reader
╰┈➤ greatest what if
someday when you leave me, i bet these memories follow you around. ── .✦ pairing: actress!elizabeth x fem!reader
╰┈➤ heart
i knew it from the first old fashioned, we were cursed. should've known i'd be the first to leave think about the place where you first met me. ── .✦ pairing: elizabeth olsen x crush!reader
╰┈➤ too late
words— how little they mean when you're a little too late. ── .✦ pairing: avenger!natasha x avenger!steve, husband!bucky x avenger!reader
╰┈➤ i miss you
now, i fear i have fallen from grace and i feel like my castle's crumbling down. ── .✦ pairing: actress!scarlett x actress!reader
╰┈➤ wedding
sometimes giving up is the strong thing, sometimes to run is the brave thing, sometimes walking out is the one thing, that will find you the right thing. the snaps from the same little breaks in your soul, you know when it's time to go. ── .✦ pairing: elizabeth olsen x event planner!reader
╰┈➤ last memory
if i didn't know better, i'd think you were talking to me now. if i didn't know better, i'd think you were still around. what died didn't stay dead, you're alive, so alive, in my head. ── .✦ pairing: agent!elizabeth x agent!reader
╰┈➤ thank you
why'd you have to lead me on? why'd you have to twist the knife? walk away and leave me bleedin'. ── .✦ pairing: scarlett johansson x fem!reader
╰┈➤ we both had our chance
i persist and resist the temptation to ask you if one thing had been different, would everything be different today? ── .✦ pairing: avenger!natasha x avenger!reader
╰┈➤ i hate you
remembering her comes in flashbacks and echoes, tell myself it's time now gotta let go. but moving on from her is impossible, when i still see it all in my head, in burning red. ── .✦ pairing: shitty!scarlett x annoying!reader
╰┈➤ on bended knee
can we go back to the days our love was strong? can you tell me how a perfect love goes wrong? can somebody tell me how to get things back the way they use to be? oh god give me a reason, i'm down on bended knee. ── .✦ pairing: actress!elizabeth x actress!reader
╰┈➤ the cut that always bleeds
oh, i could be anything you need, as long as you don't leave. the cut that always bleeds. ── .✦ pairing: scarlett x gf!reader
╰┈➤ backburner
i'll always be in your corner, 'cause i don't feel alive 'til i'm burnin' on your backburner. ── .✦ pairing: agent!natasha x agent!reader
╰┈➤ the great war
we can plant a memory garden, say a solemn prayer, place a poppy in my hair. there's no morning glory, it was war, it wasn't fair and we will never go back. ── .✦ pairing: actress!elizabeth x gf!reader
╰┈➤ enough for you
and maybe i'm just not as interesting as the girls you had before but god, you couldn't have cared less about someone who loved you more. 'cause all i ever wanted was to be enough for you and all i ever wanted was to be enough for you. ── .✦ pairing: agent!natasha x insecure!reader
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ to be written:
╰┈➤ 1 step forward, 3 steps back
do you love me, want me, hate me? boy, i don't understand. no, i don't understand.
╰┈➤ better woman
i know the bravest thing i ever did was run.
╰┈➤ strange
isn't it strange how people can change. from strangers to friends, friends into lovers, and strangers again?
╰┈➤ lose you to love me
we'd always go into it blindly, i needed to lose you to find me. this dancing was killing me softly, i needed to hate you to love me.
╰┈➤ almost is never enough
almost is never enough, so close to being in love. if i would have known that you wanted me, the way i wanted you then maybe we wouldn't be two worlds apart, but right here in each other's arms.
╰┈➤ wish you were sober
kiss me in the seat of your rover, real sweet, but i wish you were sober.
╰┈➤ same ground
because i have learned that love is beyond what human can imagine, the more it clears, the more i have to let you go.
╰┈➤ the way i loved you
but i miss screaming and fighting and kissing in the rain and it's 2 a.m. and i'm cursing your name. so in love that you act insane and that's the way i loved you.
╰┈➤ champagne problems
your mom's ring in your pocket, her picture in your wallet, you won't remember all my champagne problems.
╰┈➤ last kiss
you told me you loved me, so why did you go away?
╰┈➤ maroon
the burgundy on my t-shirt when you splashed your wine into me and how the blood rushed into my cheeks, so scarlet, it was. the mark you saw on my collarbone, the rust that grew between telephones, the lips i used to call home, so scarlet, it was maroon.
╰┈➤ loml
you said i'm the love of your life about a million times.
╰┈➤ consequences
loving you was sunshine, safe and sound, a steady place to let down my defenses but loving you had consequences.
╰┈➤ casual
i thought you thought of me better, someone you couldn't lose.
╰┈➤ illicit affairs
they show their truth one single time but they lie, and they lie, and they lie a million little times.
╰┈➤ forever and always
oh back up, baby, back up, did you forget everything? back up, baby, back up, did you forget everything?
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128 notes · View notes
alyrasturnz · 3 months
Note
Can you pleaseee do The Bolter with Matt!
Maybe reader and Matt had a fast love and then she left him heartbroken because she was afraid.
Can be happy ending or not, you decide!
LOVEEE your writing
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 ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎THE BOLTER
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❐ summary » when matt unveils to y/n the profound truth that fear holds no dominion in his presence, he gently dismantles the walls of trepidation, revealing a sanctuary where vulnerability is met with unwavering strength and compassion.
❐ pairings » bf!matt x fem!reader
❐ warnings » toxic relationship, slut shaming, arguments
❐ a/n && w/c » when the writers block is so bad you discontinue two fics 😭 this was a cm away from getting discontinued • 1.75k
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the air in the room is thick with unspoken words, a tangible tension that seems to press down on your chest. liam stands by the window, his silhouette framed by the dim light filtering through the curtains, his back rigid, fists tightly clenched. you draw in a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment, and attempt to steady your wavering voice.
"why won't you just talk to me, liam? what's going on?" you inquire, your voice tinged with a growing frustration that simmers just beneath the surface.
he whirls around, his eyes glacial and unyielding. "you really want to know? fine. let's talk about how you always run away when things get tough."
a heavy weight descends upon your chest, pulling your heart into a chasm of despair. "what are you talking about?"
"don't play dumb, y/n. every time we hit a rough patch, you bolt. you can't handle anything that isn't perfect." he forces the words out through clenched teeth, each syllable laden with barely restrained fury.
a tumultuous blend of guilt and anger churns within you, each emotion vying for dominance in the labyrinth of your heart. "that's not true. i just need space sometimes."
liam's visage transforms into a mask of unyielding resolve, his features set in an unforgiving rigidity. "space? is that what you call disappearing for days without a word? leaving me wondering if you're ever coming back?"
you advance with deliberate steps, your voice crescendoing with each word. "i need time to think! you never give me that. you suffocate me."
he retreats a step, his voice laced with a biting sarcasm that cuts through the air like a sharpened blade. "oh, so now it's my fault? you're the one who can't stick around and work things out."
your eyes narrow to slits, the glistening threat of tears teetering on the brink of falling. "i try, liam. but you make it so hard. you push and push until i can't take it anymore."
liam's face contorts with a fury that seems to burn from within. "you know what your problem is, y/n? you're a bolter. the minute something goes wrong, you run. you're nothing but a coward."
the words slice through you like a dagger, and you feel your heart fracture into a thousand irreparable pieces. "how dare you say that? i care about us, but i can't keep fighting if you don't believe in me."
he fixes you with a piercing glare, his jaw clenched so tightly that it seems to be carved from stone. "believe in you? how can i, when you keep running away?"
with that, he storms out of the room, the door slamming shut with a thunderous crash that seems to shake the very walls. his final words, dripping with venom, reverberate in your mind, leaving a lingering, painful sting that burrows deep into your soul and refuses to fade, casting a shadow over your thoughts and emotions.
"whore."
the silence that follows is almost tangible, an oppressive force that presses down upon you, amplifying the weight of his words that hang heavy in the air like a storm cloud. you sink to the floor, your legs giving way beneath the burden of your emotions, tears streaming down your face in a torrent as you grapple with the overwhelming sense of loss and confusion, wondering how everything unraveled so disastrously.
»--•--«
you squeeze your eyes shut at the memory, your back pressed firmly against the headboard, as if seeking solace from its solid presence. the recollection floods your mind, each detail sharp and vivid, causing a shiver to run down your spine as you try to ward off the haunting images.
you and matt had engaged in a similarly heated argument just the other day, the crux of it revolving around your tendency to shut him out. the words exchanged were sharp and biting, each one a dagger that deepened the chasm between you, leaving an echo of unresolved tension in its wake.
but you had immediately bolted, your feet carrying you away in a desperate flight before he could utter another word, leaving his unfinished sentences hanging in the air like ghosts, haunting the space where you once stood.
and you won't deny it, whenever you catch even the slightest hint of vulnerability, the smallest leak in your emotional armor, you feel an overwhelming urge to bolt. it's as if an invisible force propels you to flee, to escape before the floodgates open and drown you in a deluge of emotions you fear you cannot control.
the mere thought of facing such raw, unfiltered feelings sends a shiver down your spine, compelling you to seek refuge in the safety of solitude, where the walls you’ve built around your heart remain unbreached.
you have always been a runner. people would often hurl insults, calling you a whore for it, but their words never penetrated the fortress you built around your heart. it didn't matter to you because, in the grand tapestry of your existence, you needed to prioritize your own happiness, to shield yourself from the ever-present fear of getting hurt. the prospect of emotional pain loomed like a dark cloud, and so you ran, seeking the clear skies of self-preservation.
all your fucking lives flashed before your eyes with every word matt uttered that day. each syllable seemed to unravel a tapestry of memories, yet it wasn't as harrowing as the venomous words that your previous boyfriends had once wielded like weapons. their cruelty had carved deep scars, but matt's words, though piercing, were but a shadow of the pain you had endured before.
you were terrified. the mere thought of it sent chills down your spine. you didn't want to relive the harrowing sensation of the first time you fell through the ice, when the cold gripped you like a vice and the world above seemed to vanish into a blur of panic and desperation.
the memory of that piercing cold and the suffocating fear was enough to make you shudder, a reminder of the vulnerability you never wished to feel again.
your thoughts were abruptly interrupted by the resonant chime of the doorbell, its sound slicing through the silence and scattering your contemplations like leaves in the wind.
you rose from your seat, each step echoing softly as you made your way out of your room and down the hallway. with a deep breath, you reached the front door, the anticipation building as you turned the handle. as the door swung open, there stood matt, his presence filling the threshold with an air of familiarity and unspoken emotions.
"matt?" you whisper, your voice barely audible, as though the mere utterance of his name might shatter the delicate tension hanging in the air.
matt stood a few feet away, his expression a turbulent blend of concern and frustration, his eyes searching yours for answers unspoken.
"why do you always shut me out?" he asked softly, his voice tinged with a mix of vulnerability and desperation, as he attempted to bridge the chasm that had grown between you.
you sighed, the weight of your past relationships pressing down on you like an invisible burden. "i just... i can't help it," you murmured, your voice tinged with a trace of sorrow. "you're the best thing i've ever had. every time things get tough, i feel this overwhelming urge to run. it's like i'm constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop, bracing myself for the inevitable disappointment."
matt took a step closer, his presence a comforting anchor amidst your swirling doubts. "i'm not like them, you know," he said, his voice gentle yet resolute. "i'm not going to abandon you just because we hit a rough patch. i'm here to weather the storms with you."
you looked up, your eyes a storm of doubt and uncertainty, searching his for a glimmer of reassurance. "but what if things get really bad? what if i mess everything up?"
he smiled softly, his touch gentle yet grounding as he took your hands in his, offering a silent promise of unwavering support. "then we work through it together. no matter how bad things get, i'm not going anywhere. you're stuck with me, remember?"
you bit your lip, the memories of past heartbreaks flashing through your mind like ghostly apparitions, each one a reminder of the pain you've endured. "it's just... every time i start to feel safe, something happens. it's like i'm always on edge, waiting for things to fall apart."
matt's grip on your hands tightened, his eyes steadfastly locked onto yours, a silent vow of his unwavering commitment. "i get it. you've been hurt before, and it's left scars. but i'm not them. i'm here, and i'm not going to let a few bumps in the road scare me away."
a solitary tear traced a path down your cheek, a fleeting testament to your vulnerability, before you hastily brushed it away. "i don't want to push you away, but sometimes it feels like the only way to protect myself."
he gently cupped your face, his thumb tenderly sweeping away the lingering tear, as if erasing the sorrow etched upon your skin. "you don't have to protect yourself from me. i'm not here to hurt you. i'm here to love you, flaws and all. even if we argue, even if things get tough, i'm not leaving."
you took a deep breath, the remnants of fear still clinging to your heart, yet gradually being eclipsed by the burgeoning light of hope. "promise?"
matt nodded, the sincerity in his eyes speaking volumes, conveying a depth of understanding beyond mere words. "promise. we're in this together, for better or worse."
you felt a warmth radiate through your chest, the tendrils of fear gradually dissolving. perhaps, just perhaps, you could entrust him with the fragile treasure of your heart. "okay," you whispered, leaning into his touch. "i'll try."
matt smiled, his lips bestowing a tender kiss upon your forehead, a silent promise woven into the delicate touch. "that's all i ask. we'll figure it out together."
as you rested your head against his shoulder, a glimmer of hope began to flicker within you. the warmth of his presence seemed to chase away the shadows of doubt, and in that quiet moment, you dared to believe that perhaps this time, the tides of fate would shift.
maybe, just maybe, you had discovered someone truly worth holding onto, someone who could mend the fractures of your heart and walk beside you on the journey ahead.
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stealingyourbones · 3 months
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Question! I have been getting into DC comics cuz of dpxdc, and I saw your tags on frank Miller on a recent post. One of my irl friends told me to read the dark knight returns and while it was occasionally hard to follow I assumed that was a result of when it was written rather than who wrote it? But I did overall enjoy it.
I guess what I'm asking is why you say frank Miller is a bad writer when it seems like the dark knight returns was so acclaimed?
(I saw the nazi thing too but that's something I can google so while it's news to me it's not my main question)
ok so. A lot of this is my personal opinion and I'm not too equipped to say shit about this because I'm not very political but I'm going to give it my best shot. Put under a cut so folks who don't want to hear about comic ranting can simply scroll past
I’m just gonna write a quick thing for the Nazi stuff, He isn't exactly a Nazi but boy oh boY does he set off many warning flags. Frank Miller is also the writer of the comic 300, if that sounds familiar that's because the movie you're probably thinking of is indeed based off these comics. The Spartan's ideology helped create the baselines of Fascism. Fascism is a pretty leading cause of commentary in Frank Millers work. In Batman: The Dark Knight he is a fascist. In Hard Boiled there's swastikas in the background every so often. (I even went back to reread it just to make sure and yep. they definitely were there) In 300 there's a shitton of Fascism... I could go on but still. His comics are incredibly gorey, have a discussion about a world gone wrong that can only be changed using force and weaponry (the whole Dark Knight "I am a surgeon" monologue for example), and the fact that he has Fascism as the main point of nearly all of the comics he's written... it doesn't sit right with me and it's a consistent pattern.
Now, onto the bad writing. I must firstly preface that these are my own opinions and that I didn't grow up reading Frank Miller's work. I think he was a good writer but isn't one anymore. His writing did incredible things for DC and you can see his influence in Batman even today. Works I've read and enjoyed of his are: Daredevil, Batman Year One, and Dark Knight. Nowadays you'll see many folks like myself talk about how Frank Miller has fallen off the deep end. A vast majority of Frank Miller's comics have reoccurring themes: politics, fascism, extreme violence, and so so much weaponry. Politics is in every comic book. There is no unpolitical comic, there ARE comics that are batshit wild with their politics and that's what I'm talking about. I'll get back to this later. He wrote many good comics, ones that first come to mind are Daredevil , Wolverine, Batman: Dark Knight, Batman: Year One, Sin City, Ronin, and 300. All of these comics are still credited by folks as amazing comics and hell, I recommend folks to read them go and check them out. Then 9/11 happened. That along with rampant alcoholism. Those reoccurring themes I mentioned? They become exponentially more blatant in his works. Especially on the political angle. You can see the difference between his works from pre and post 9/11. If you read Dark Knight and Dark Knight 2 back to back. It's night and day. He even made a comic during the post 9/11 panic called Holy Terror. The comic's title was originally pitched as Holy Terror, Batman! with the Gotham hero himself as the main character but it swiftly denied by DC, denied being published by DC, and changed to what it is now. The basic plot of this comic: A Vigilante named The Fixer fights Al-Qaeda after attacking Empire City. He doesn't even mention the word Al-Qaeda until 80 pages into a 150 page comic. The comic is some INCREDIBLY blatant post 9/11 propaganda that's ridiculously Islamophobic and anti-muslim. That isn't even my opinion, Frank Miller has said that's what this comic was. It is scattered with a ridiculous amount of hate speech written by a hate fueled man in 2007. Now onto comics that you'd more likely read. All Star Batman and Robin (2005). Oh boy. Let's compare shall we? Batman Dark Knight Returns (1986)
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All Star Batman & Robin, The Boy Wonder #1 (2005)
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mind you this is as Dick is being driven to GCPD for questioning RIGHT AFTER HIS PARENTS DIED. He gets kidnapped by Bruce out of the police car. Not calmed in his arms after the murder and brought to the manor. Kidnapped. All Star Batman & Robin, The Boy Wonder #2 (2005)
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( a brief intermission of this sickass pose of a shirtless Alfred Pennyworth comforting Vicky Vale)
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now back to the kidnapping:
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[Skipping Bruce getting chased by the GCPD, Jumping the Batmobile ONTOP of a GCPD car, and laughing and talking to his car all the while Dick is absolutely terrified. They then use boosters that propel the Batmobile into the sky.]
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Smashcut to #4 where they actually enter the Batcave.
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I don't even think I need to explain myself. This is Spider-Man: One More Day levels of mischaracterization. Like seriously. Bruce kidnapping Dick after his parents were killed? Calling him a retard and hitting him during the aftermath (we can go on about how in 2005, the r slur was used commonly but this was just out of pocket), Leaving him in the cold batcave and told to eat rats? Frank Miller used to write some incredible works. Nowadays his writing is as decent as Rob Liefeld's art.
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peachesofteal · 1 year
Note
Omg the new drabble of pregnant Darling finding out that they did it on purpose???? GOLD. You're such an amazing writer! What do you think hurt her the most when she found out? How would Johnny and Simon react to her finding out? I can't help but imagine all the possibilities- Johnny sinking to his knees hugging Darling's belly and begging her to listen and understand and Simon being on edge because he's worried you might run or stress out, which isn't good for the baby. It's just!!!! No thoughts just Dead Disco pregnancy fic 💀
No thoughts we're just ruining Darling's life over here (kind of) Also thank you love!
baby trap au 18+ Dark themes
"How could you do this?" you can hardly see them through your tears, and your voice cracks, raw, and desperate. "How could you do this me?" Johnny's eyes are wide, and his own tears track down his face while Simon tries to reach for you.
"Darling-"
"Don't touch me." The air in the apartment is thin, too thin, and you gasp for it while you try to put some space between yourself and the two of them. You're backing away into the bedroom now, but not any farther away from where they encroach on your space.
"We love you." Johnny says, stepping closer. "We love you so much."
"This isn't love!" This is abuse, isn't it? "This... I trusted you."
"We do love you. We have always loved you." It's a plea, a promise, words that used to hold so much weight now empty and foreign. Strange to hear coming from Simon's mouth.
"No. Get away from me." They betrayed you. They used you. They... they... they trapped you. "Oh, god." You moan, hand covering your face. "Oh my god." Your cheeks are soaking wet now, chest heaving as your lungs tear themselves in two with the strength of your sobs. You entire body feels weak, like you could fall to floor, or float away at any second. "No, no no no. N-no, oh my god." You can hear them talking, but you feel like you're drowning, or being crushed under the weight of everything your mind is trying to process, and then only thing you can do is sob harder.
"-call the doctor."
"if she can't-"
"Darling, can you-"
"Darling-"
Warm arms wrap around you, and then there's a heartbeat beneath your ear, thumping fast, but steadily and strong. It's Johnny's, you can tell, just by the fabric of the shirt, and you clench your eyes shut when you feel a warm hand pressing to your belly.
"We need you to try to relax." It's Simon's voice, near your ear and you cringe. "Your stress could spike your blood pressure." You shake your head, and try to shift away but Johnny holds you firm while he whispers to you.
"We love you so much, so, so much. We can't live without you, we don't want to. And maybe, we made a mistake. Maybe... we did something wrong but- but... we would never hurt you, darling girl. We would never do anything to harm you. You're safe with us. You're still safe with us." This is harm. You have harmed me. The words ring in your mind, but you can't get a word out through your cries.
"Love, can you hear me?" Johnny asks, and you blink to try to clear your vision when a big hand cradles your face.
"Darling, look at me." Simon pleads but you can't, and you turn away to bury your face in Johnny's chest. You sob even harder, throat raw, and Simon's hand shifts to your back, where he rubs up and down your spine in an attempt to soothe you.
You cry until you can't anymore, until they put you to bed, unable to respond to them, unwilling to speak. Silent. When they ask you if you're hungry, or if you'd like to sleep, you stay silent, lost in your own tears, your own devastation, your own loss, until your eyes are slipping closed and you're falling into a dark, deep sleep.
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lvlyghost · 1 year
Text
All The Nights to Come
Pairings: Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader
Summary: You get hurt during a mission.
Word Count: 900+
Tw: strong language, blood, angst, comfort towards the end. grumpy ghost as usual. bad grammar, and probably a lot of typos. not proofread 🫶🏻✨💞
A/N: just a little one-shot to help me with writer's block. next I'll be working on another part of salvation and a third part of the things i never said since a lot of you asked 🥹💛 remember english isn't my first language, corrections are welcome 🤍
Masterlist✨
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You didn't know how to stay out of danger. Or at least that's what all of your teammates said. Especially Ghost.
Ghost. You had a complicated... relationship with the Lieutenant.
Polar opposites.
That's what he had called you both one day.
He's the darkness that comes at night, you're the light he'd gladly let consume him.
"Stop distracting me." He grumbles staring straight ahead. You chuckle at his growing annoyance.
"We're in the middle of nowhere, Ghost. The worst thing that could happen is tripping with a rock." You roll you eyes. "How about we play something, we still have one hour left until we reach the evac point."
"No."
"Comen on! There's no one around." He sighs, but doesn't say anything. You decide to not push his limits. You've started to know him more and more, as much as he would allow, of course. "Is something bothering you?" you finally ask, head tilting down to watch your step. Again the only response you get is silence. "If this is about what happened last night..."
"It's not that." He gruffly interrupts you. Irritated that you're even bringing it up.
"You were the one who said this couldn't happen anymore. So you might as well make up your mind Ghost." You walk faster, leaving him behind, or as much as you can considering his strides are easily longer than yours.
"I am your superior, what the fuck am I supposed to do, kid?" You clench your jaw, hating how his words are setting deep in your heart. The way he emphasized the word superior. "I could get us both suspended, or even worse get us kicked out of the military! Am I really the only one who's thinking?" He seethes.
"Oh well!" You feign amusement. "I'm sorry, I didn't think you cared enough when were fucking each other in my room..." Ghost's body freezes for a brief second before he keeps walking. "If you're bloody scared of letting me in you should've just said it. No need to fucking hurt me like I'm nothing."
"The fuck did you just say? Have you not heard a word I just told you?!" His accent becoming more prominent every time he speaks. "I'm trying to protect you, I don't bloody care what happens to me."
Ghost doesn't notice it, too enraged, looking down at you as he walks closer. But you do.
You see the reflection, a small glimpse of the scope. The sun shining down on the sniper's rifle. Everything moves in slow motion, you scream... or at least you try to, pushing Ghost with all the strength you have. He stumbles a few steps to the side, the pure shock in your face as you realize what's about to happen. A bird chirping in the distance, and what sounds like a cascade near, a river flowing before it hits you. Right on your left shoulder, a shot that was aimed at his heart.
Ghost's heart.
And you take it instead. It pierces through flesh and bones, hurting like million of bullets. Your sight goes black as you start falling, body helplessly hitting the muddy terrain. Shots are fired, a loud shriek and a deep voice echoing but it's so far away. It's getting harder to regain consciousness.
"Why the bloody hell did you do that!?" Fear glowed in his eyes. Ghost's big gloved hand pressing down the wound on your shoulder, the fabric quickly becomes stained with crimson red blood.
Your blood.
"S-Sir?" You choke up. Fighting to keep your eyes open.
Focus on him.
"I'm going to fucking have you on desk rotation for this." He grits his teeth. "Don't you do that ever again. Not for me. Never for someone like me." He leans closer, managing your body in his hands so he can take a better look. He breathes when he sees the exit wound.
"It's my duty..." you murmur, with half-lidded eyes. "To shield and protect my superiors..." you breathe out.
"Don't give me that shite." He scolds you. "I'm the one who's supposed to protect my team." Not just his team. The truth was that he wanted to protect you, he had to. "Now keep those pretty eyes on me, yeah? That's an order sergeant." He commands.
You laugh, with what low energy you have left.
"Sir? You and I both know I'm not good at following orders." He reaches his medical pouch, disinfecting and wrapping as many bandages as he can on your wound.
"Now's a good time you start listenin', kid." He picks you up with more gentleness that's he's ever experienced himself. Who would've thought that a man like him could care for someone else. He has the softest touch, you think. "Think you can hold on until we get there?" He asks, looking down to your face, body too small and light in his arms. If he could kiss you right now...
"Sure thing, Ghost." You murmur, wincing when he starts walking. "This is not what I had in mind when they said we were going to Spain. We could play that game now, right?
A soft chuckle rumbles deep in his chest, making your lips tilt up in a weak yet heartwarming smile.
"Fuckin' hell, love" he doesn't lose sight of your eyes. "I guess we can. As long as you keep talking to me. Don't you dare go somewhere I can't follow."
"Don't think you'll get rid of me that easily, Sir."
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misc-obeyme · 8 months
Note
Hello you're such a good freaking writer! Blankets for Mammon for the cozy comforts event?
Hi there, anon! Thank you, I'm so glad you enjoy my writing!
Okay, well, this is the cozy comforts event because I am cozy and comfortable when I'm writing all the cheesy fluff. And that's all I gotta say about this one lol.
Thank you for participating!
COZY COMFORTS EVENT
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GN!MC x Mammon with prompt blanket
Warnings: none
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Whenever you feel a little sad, you find yourself wandering to Mammon's room. The way he grins the minute he sees you never fails to cheer you up. But even if he isn't there, it's his space and it feels like him. He's come back to find you, sprawled on his couch or curled up on his bed. It's like you're only waiting for him to walk in so you can start feeling happy again.
When he's not around, you seem to always be drawn to one blanket in particular. It's a nice one - black and gold, by some expensive Devildom brand name you're not familiar with. He told you once that he worked hard to buy it for himself. You love the way it smells like his Devilish No 5 when you wrap it around your shoulders. It's like he's right there, hugging you close.
The first time you have to return to the human world, he blushes and stutters when he gives it to you. You blink in surprise at him as he holds it out to you.
"Did ya think I didn't notice, human?" he says.
Having that blanket with you makes you feel less lonely as you spend time away from the Devildom. When you come back, you can't bear to be parted with it, so you keep it. Everyone sees what it means to you, how you tend to keep it around your shoulders when you're in a bad mood or just need a bit of comfort.
Until one day you notice that the blanket doesn't smell like Mammon anymore. It doesn't quite feel like him the way it used to. You use it less and less, seeking out the actual demon whenever you can instead.
Mammon notices that you've been keeping the blanket folded neatly on your bed, but he doesn't say anything.
One day you come back to the House of Lamentation and realize that you haven't seen Mammon all day. You go looking for him and find him in your own room. He's sitting on your bed, wrapped in the black and gold blanket. He looks pitiful, like he's just had the worst day of his life.
You come over to sit down beside him. He's despondent as he tells you about losing bets and failed schemes.
You tug on the edge of the blanket. "This always makes me feel better. Is it helping you?"
The blush that cover's Mammon's face is instant and deep. He hides it halfway behind the blanket. "Smells like ya."
You consider this statement and realize it must be true. The blanket lost the smell of Mammon's cologne long ago, but you never smelled anything different on it. Because now the blanket smelled like you.
"Ya kinda stopped usin' it, though, huh," Mammon says and you can't help hearing the note of sadness in his tone.
You nudge him a little, to make him lift his arm. You duck under it so you're both under the blanket, Mammon's arm wrapped snugly around you. You lean your head on his shoulder. "I liked it because it smelled like you. It felt like you. It was like I had you hugging me even when you weren't there. But now it smells like me? I hadn't noticed."
Mammon puffs out his chest a bit. "Miss the Great Mammon when he ain't around, do ya?"
"Yeah," you say easily, making him squirm a little.
After that, the two of you trade off who has the blanket. Whenever you need him and he's not there, you find the blanket. Whenever he needs you, he takes it back. And although no object could replace the real thing, it acts as a temporary comfort, warming you with its memories until you can find yourselves back in each other's arms.
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cozy comforts | masterlist | Thank you for reading!
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ddarker-dreams · 1 year
Note
Scarlet Ribbons accidental kisses with the gang? (I love your writing so much! You're one of the best fanfic writers <3 <3 I reread your works so often, they make my day : D)
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wahhh thank you so much, i'm happy to know my writing can bring you some joy!!! 💖
i'm going to assume that this request takes place before SR reader is in a relationship with anyone, hopefully that's what you had in mind hkjetgrmw maybe something like she started to trip and x guy went to catch her? some traditional shoujo exploits ...
[Scarlet Ribbons index]
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Giorno
There's a 99% chance Giorno's sentient Stand, GER, had a hand in this. The Stand shares Giorno's affection for you and wishes his user would hurry up in courting you already. Giorno catches onto the shenanigans at play but it's too late — while catching you, your lips make contact. His face has never felt so warm. He tries portraying himself in this suave, calm manner, but when you're in his general vicinity, it's a challenge to maintain this balanced state. His voice is a few pitches higher when he rushes through an apology. The Don of Passione would feel less nervous starting down the barrel of a gun. Later, he chastises his conniving Stand, but deep down… he's secretly grateful.
Bruno
Bruno doesn't immediately pull away and thinks less of himself because of it. He's straining himself to the degree that veins start protruding from his forehead. Your comfort matters far more to him than satisfying any carnal needs. After he ensures you're steady, he puts an appropriate amount of distance between you, then starts apologizing for the mishap. If you're feeling particularly mischievous, now would be the most opportune time to tease him. He's usually immune to being flustered, even from you, but the emotions running rampant through his system momentarily lower his defenses. There'll be a slight blush on his sunkissed skin. He's quick to excuse himself so he can get his heart under control.
Fugo
Fugo struggles to make eye contact with you for a solid week. Once he gets past the initial slew of positive hormones that make him feel like he's on cloud nine, reality settles in, and he's mortified. What if you think he's a creep who did it on purpose? The thought alone leads to sleepless nights where he gnaws on his nails. He berates himself and is extra prone to explode with anger at the slightest provocation. You need to reassure him before there's collateral damage. He's still stiff around you for a while, but that's because his eyes start wandering to your lips if he isn't careful. His own start tingling, as if remembering the soft sensation and longing to experience it again.
Mista
Mista knew the lord was on his side. The last time he attended mass, he prayed for something like this to happen. The main objective henceforth is to maintain his cool. Ride out the waves of coincidence and try not to come off too strong, lest he scare you away. Once he's certain you aren't going to unleash your wrath upon him, the cogs in his brain begin turning. What can he say to sweeten the moment? Win you over with his charisma and charm? There's got to be a perfect combination of words that'll have you weak to your knees. Eventually, he settles on complimenting your chapstick flavor. He later bemoans himself for not saying something cooler.
Narancia
It's like raw caffeine was injected into his veins. He's absolutely ecstatic, ready to bounce from wall to wall, even though he recognizes it was an accident. Who cares? This has got to be fate, or whatever it's called, he thinks he heard the term in a movie once. Narancia is bragging about it to absolutely everyone, much to their chagrin (especially Fugo's). Abbacchio pours salt into Narancia's drink when he isn't looking as a silent form of vengeance. You come into the room and everyone aside from Narancia is grumpy. You're absolutely his first kiss, a fact he takes great pride in. That is, until he wonders if he's your first kiss… then his mood is slightly pampered… for all of ten minutes. Then he's back to beaming, uncaring of anything besides the fact your lips made contact.
Abbacchio
Abbacchio cannot remember the last time his heart pounded this hard — if ever. Still, he doesn't linger in the moment. He may be harsh around the edges, but he still cares for you greatly, the last thing he wants is to make you uncomfortable. When he parts and sees his purple lipstick smudged onto your pretty, parted lips… it is a divine test of his self-control. That mental image has never left him. He's stuck between not feeling worthy of your affection and wanting to kiss you until the pigment stains your lips a deeper color. It's a dilemma. If he isn't constantly distracting himself, his mind runs off to fantasize.
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