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karmaholik · 2 days ago

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Curse!Suguru AU

I've had this brainstorm for a while and I know there are probably some great fics on it but…

What if at the end of JJK0, when Geto says he wishes Gojo would curse him a little bit.... Suddenly overwhelmed with never being able to see Geto again alive after spending so long apart, Gojo decides to do just that. Enter Suguru Geto; Special Grade Cursed Spirit, the modern King of Curses.

Geto’s power rivals that of Sukuna and maybe even exceeds it because he still retains the power to eat fellow curses and take in their power to strengthen his own.

Gojo expects him to morph into some monstrosity like Rika. He doesn't. Geto still looks like himself just… Off. His skin is ghastly gray. Nails are long and sharp. Teeth pointed like they had been individually filed. He even loomed a bit over Gojo now, needing to bend to look at the white-haired man with eyes like black pools that matched Geto’s hair.

But he was the same where it counted. To Gojo at least. His smile. His voice. The way he said his name.

“Satoru~” Geto had called to him, purring like usual the moment he manifested. He curls around Gojo, cradling him to his chest.

“Don't be sad, I'll be with you forever.”

Of course, all of Jujutsu Tech knew. Tengen’s barrier alerted everyone of Geto’s manifestation.

Gojo is immediately called to the higher ups. Geto refuses to leave his side, much to the higher ups displeasure. Gojo is ordered to exorcize Geto. He refuses. The higher ups threaten Gojo for execution. He's about to laugh in their faces because how could they even think they have any chance to do so but Geto is enraged at their words and he kills them so quickly that Six Eyes barely realizes it happens.

Geto is severely possessive and protective of Gojo, he's constantly manifested and won’t let anyone near Gojo. Not Yaga. Shoko or even his students. Gojo dares not go around Megumi for fear that Geto might do something to him due to his resemblance to Toji.

All of this should bother Gojo but it doesn't. Because Geto is still so /him/ to Gojo, with that charming smile and witty comebacks. He's so sweet, softly whispering into Gojo's ear About how he'll never leave him and that he missed him all those years and how he loves him.

“I'll protect you, Satoru. I love you so much. We'll be together forever.” He'll say and it's all Gojo has ever wanted to hear since they were 16.

Then slowly, it becomes more than words… Geto starts holding him, running his clawed fingers along his sides, gripping possessively at Gojo's waist. Then the kisses. Soft and sweet at first. Light like a phantom touch before gradually growing hot and wet with tongue and teeth. Marking bruises and little scratches from his sharp teeth into Gojo's unmarred skin.

Gojo wishes he could fight it. Tell Geto no and push him away. Any resistance is weak at best.

Gojo gives in. Easily.

"Suguru," Gojo breathily whispers in a pathetic attempt of protest at the flutter of kisses being pressed against his throat. Geto hums lowly but doesn't stop.

"Satoru," he hushes him. One of Geto's hands slides from the purchase of Gojo's waist to curl around the hand that's pushed against his chest. Geto guides Gojo's hand along his torso, down to the prominent bulge in his hakama. He presses Gojo's hand against it and earns a gasp from the taller man. Geto's other hand is busy pushing into Gojo's waistband. His fingers slip between Gojo's ass cheeks and firmly presses the pad of his finger against Gojo's tight hole, nails slightly scraping against sensitive skin. Gojo whines. Geto smirks against the pale neck.

"I know you want me to fuck you." Gojo is mewling at the words. Geto circles the hole and feels Gojo physically shiver.

"It's just the decision of if you want me to slide into you and take you gently, long and slow." He presses in and breaches the rim. Gojo drops his head back with a gasp.

"Or fuck into you hard and fast. Unrelenting until I cum inside you." Gojo moans.

"Fuck...Fuck me fast." The answer spills out quickly in a rush. "Cum inside me. Please." Geto presses a kiss under the other's ear, lovingly.

"As you wish, Satoru."

I'll write a full fic of this one day. After I get past Gego week and maybe finish my time travel Shoko fix it fic. Idk give me strength fam

#satosugu #gego #fanfic #satosugu fanfic #ao3 fanfic #jjk geto #jjk gojo #jjk romance #geto suguru #gojo satoru

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nomatterwhatnomatterwhere · 1 day ago

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Feels (Wistful) like Summer Rain

A.N: Soo... it took me longer than I thought to finish this one. I'm really sorry about this. I'm not entirely satisfied, especially with the ending. I don't know. Let me know what you think. In any case I hope you like it

T.W: emotional abuse ( kinda ?), social anxiety ( done bad but still)

Max's pov: Feels (Warm) like Sunlight

Kelly's pov: Feels (Harsh) like Winter Wind

Misunderstanding Max was not difficult, in fact he made it quite easy. And you had always read too much between the lines

That was why you hadn't insisted when Max had wanted to change the subject when you'd alluded to Kelly.

Part of you wanted to insist, to know if it was worth it after all, to take a step back. But another part didn't want to hurt Max any more than the rest of the world already had.

He hardly ever gave it away, but he didn't like being labelled the villain of the story. The villain of every story.

Who would?

Yet with the character he had on the track, with his racing manner, he was perfect for the role.

You remembered perfectly his eyes asking you to confirm what the tabloids reported, whether it was true that he was unfair and violent.

You remembered well how easy it was to see his poker face collapse at the slightest hint, and how no one seemed to notice.

Or maybe they pretended not to notice.

Because people like to see what they want to see, what suits them, and it didn't matter if they ruined other people's lives with their way of doing things.

Because people had seen Max's raw talent and had decided that that sixteen-year-old boy was the ideal villain in a world of competitiveness where only the best can triumph.

That's exactly why you meant every word you said, that you were truly sorry, because you had seen how happy Kelly had made him, and you really hoped the two of them had parted better than the gossip pages let on, and it hurt that you couldn't be more of a comfort to him at that moment.

But you didn't belong there.

Not any more. For a long time.

Max had caught your eye long before you realised it.

Your situation at the time wasn't the best, but that didn't mean you were easily distracted, quite the contrary.

It had been rather strange how between acting as if nothing was changing at school, and dealing with foster care at home, it had been Max who had caught your attention.

Max didn't attend classes much, and no one really knew why, plus his home situation wasn't much happier than yours.

Only yours had been handled much better. His were rumours that were somehow confirmed.

Maybe he had attracted you because you thought you were similar, even though you knew how different you really were.

Those few times you saw Max at school, he never tried to hang out with the others; no matter how much his gaze lingered on the groups of kids at recess, he never got up to go to them, and they always kept their distance from him, but Max never seemed to mind so much.

You, on the other hand, always had anxiety about being alone, you didn't want to stay with your thoughts. But you also got anxious when you were with your friends, because you were never really honest with them, because you didn't want to argue with anyone, because you never took sides for fear they would get angry with you and leave you alone.

Somehow neither of you were really comfortable with the others.

You found out why Max was so absent because you asked the Vermeulen, your foster parents.

It had taken you a while to open up to them, not because they were mean or you didn't like them, they were just different from what you were used to, and you didn't want to be a burden of any kind to them, who had welcomed you with open arms first into their home and then into their family

It had not been easy for them either, the therapist who had dealt with you had said that your adapting so much to what others wanted was the result of a trauma that you had not yet realised you had suffered.

And how could you, what the psychologist called ‘trauma’ had been normal for you until child welfare workers had turned up on your doorstep asking you to pack your bags.

In fact, you had difficulty understanding why they had taken you away from your parents: they were not violent, had never beaten you and they had never made you lack anything. Of course they often shouted at each other, about things you didn't understand, but wasn't that something all couples did? They demanded that you behave well in every situation, that you never talk back, and that you do well at school, but there was nothing strange in expecting you to be a polite child. They weren't affectionate parents, but that didn't make them monsters, most people don't like physical contact and your parents were that kind of person.

The Vermeulens had given you an mp3 so you could listen to the music you wanted when you were studying without feeling guilty about the volume. When you travelled by car Vincent, Mr Vermeulen, always took the longer and more scenic drives because you liked to watch the scenery change, and you could listen to a few more songs because that mp3 had become your best friend. They had taken you to see The Nutcracker at the theatre because it was your favourite CD in Mrs Vermeulen's vast collection, Julie, you had listened to it so much that she had bought a copy just for you.

For Christmas they had taken you to a Christmas fair because you had never been to one, with Julie putting your scarf over your nose every three times so you wouldn't look too much like Rudolph and Vincent holding you on his shoulders when your feet started to hurt.

The best thing, though, was seeing the two of them at the candy stand arguing over which was better between liquorice and gummy bears, only to see you choose milk candy. From then on there were always packets of those sweets around the house

It was this blatant distinction between your parents‘ and the Vermeulens’ way of doing things that made it difficult for you to open up to them: You loved your parents, but Julie and Vincent made you feel not only valued but also part of something, and that made you feel ungrateful and unappreciative.

That was a thought you didn't feel ready to share yet though, so you diverted to the other thought that wandered through your head with no intention of paying rent

"He participates in a lot of races, that kid is a karting prodigy."

Max wasn't family, but Vincent couldn't deny that he had a keen eye for the little devil that haunted his go kart track, perhaps because you could see from afar that little Verstappen had talent to spare, or perhaps because a bit like you, he looked to him like a child older than his age.

Maybe that was why he didn't object when Julie, after a doubtful look from you, suggested you spend some time at the go-kart track and see for yourself how good your classmate was

The go-kart track was your second - third ? - home. You liked how every time you went there you felt relieved of a burden, you felt free of the tension of having to be attentive to everything around you, that was probably why you had never noticed Max before.

But once you did, it was hard not to notice him: he was one with the kart, he looked like he was made for racing on the track.

It was also hard not to notice his father: Jos Verstappen was someone who made you feel strange, somehow Jos reminded you of your parents even if you didn't quite understand how that was possible.

Your parents would never have left you somewhere because you had not achieved the desired results in a competition. Jos always seemed to be dissatisfied with what Max did, and Max seemed sad, even though it was obvious that he loved racing on the track

You had approached him after Jos had left him stranded for the umpteenth time. You knew he'd come to pick him up. If he hadn't, his mother would have done it. But that time he seemed the most broken you had ever seen him.

You weren't sure what it was, but since that day something had clicked between you: it was the reading between the lines, the catching of a different look from the usual, the slight change in tone, the getting to know each other so intimately that made your relationship with Max so immensely different from any other.

It was something that grew with you over time, something uniquely yours but that everyone around you perceived, even without really understanding it.

That was why you thought you had a special place in his life: apart from his family, you were the person he spent most time with on and off the track.

You always knew what was going on in his head without him uttering a word, not that Max was one who didn't speak.

Max could talk a lot when he wanted to, and when he talked about something he liked - racing, engines, winning - he had a light in his eyes that made it impossible not to be spellbound listening to him.

To say that Max wasn't popular would be a lie, you remembered with deep affection his confused look when he found a stack of Valentine's Day dedications on the counter, his gaze seeking confirmation in yours, as if to ask if what was happening was normal, and his not knowing quite how to act about it.

It was something Victoria often teased him about, not knowing how to read those social interactions

"Probably all the space in his head is taken up with strategies for competitions."

You really thought you had a chance, you saw it: you saw how Max sought your gaze before others, how he somehow searched for your approval, your support. How he was looking for you.

At least until Kelly had arrived and reality had hit you like a bucket of ice water as the ground beneath your feet crumbled.

You wanted so badly for him to love you back that you had seen things that had never been there, because obviously Max had never had a thing for you.

Because otherwise you wouldn't have seen that look in his eyes, as if Kelly had attached the moon to the sky.

You wouldn't have seen that smile so joyful when he talked to her, when you had waited years to see him smile like that.

You wouldn't have felt like you were in the way.

It sucked to feel that way. Rejected. It hurt so much that even the thought of feeling that way again led you to avoid seeing his races, limiting yourself to messages of good luck or congratulations, but even those were short-lived

"I think I've lived Max's life enough" was what you told the Vermeulen after days of silence "Racing is his passion. Not mine. I think it's time to try something new" you had finished with a small smile, resigned, but at least not forced.

But that didn't mean they didn't stay awake with you when you cried at night, in case you needed something.

You wouldn't have needed anything.

But they kept leaving you over the kitchen counter a cup of hot chocolate, bitter, because you had long since given up the absurd amount of sugar that was milk candy.

They had both been open and understanding when with downcast eyes you had asked, whispered, if it was all right for you to walk away from that world

"You're your own person, and it's just right you try different things and what works better for you. Our world doesn't have to be your world. And that won't change what we feel about you"

You realised you were crying when Julie wiped the tears from your face. She had just painted her nails.

Relationships with the Verstappens went on without too much trouble, they had only diminished, sleepovers and outings with Victoria were still a must have and Sophie had never made a secret of how much she enjoyed your company.

Only once had you been asked if you would like to see one of Max's races live again.

Neither of them had insisted when you had declined due to an important commitment that day, but neither of them had missed how tense you were at the question.

It was true though, even if you had wanted to go, you couldn't because you really had an important commitment.

Since your time away from the world of racing you had tried different things, but radio was the one you felt most at home in: whether you were put on the assistant director's desk or the leaderboard or whatever, you felt you were in your own world.

When you had been offered to replace one of the announcers you had accepted, even if it meant not sleeping until the next morning. It was worth it, in the end, because they had confirmed you for that nightly column which, although niche, had seen a significant increase in ratings since you had been hosting it. The audience liked your approach, they interacted more, even at that ungodly hour, and even for the other hosts it was clear that that was your place.

The YouTube channel came later, even though it wasn't entirely your idea: at first it was stories or live feeds on Instagram, but your audience seemed to like it and they suggested you expand it, so you did.

There were people who didn't like you, who thought you were fake and posh, and who enjoyed sending you unkind comments. But it didn't matter any more.

There were people who liked you, even without ever having seen you. People who without knowing you thanked you because you had said something that made their day better, or because they felt understood by someone.

(That had been another reason for your broadening the topics of discussion on your channel).

Deciding to do a live broadcast from the kart track had been something you had been thinking about for a while. Even though you had drifted away from the world of racing, it had always been a part of you, and it would come back to greet you cyclically when you got notifications of start times, qualifying results or penalty investigations.

You hadn't managed to completely detach yourself from what had been your world for most of your life, those who knew you simply didn't know this side of you.

You were embarrassed to say that the reason you no longer followed the sport so assiduously was because it reminded you of how your first crush had rejected you without realising it, and you were even more embarrassed to think that that little crush on Max Verstappen had never really got over.

But the kartdrome was not just the more or less painful memories of Max. It was also the hiding between the tyres to study, the milk sweets you offered to everyone who came in, the people who switched from karts to formula but always went back to their roots, so you decided to give it a try.

You didn't know how you would react if it went wrong, but fortunately for you your interest in the sport seemed to be appreciated, so much so that you found yourself walking around a paddock again after not setting foot there for years.

Returning to breathe the air of racing was strange: it wasn't something new, but it was different from what you remembered.

It was strange to move around and meet people who wanted to take a photo with you, hug you or just say hello, you didn't think you had brought much to what was the world of car racing, yet everywhere you turned there were people who seemed to think otherwise.

It was even stranger to meet familiar faces long before they became famous. You'd known them from Max's races, you'd even stopped to talk to some on occasion, but you hadn't kept in touch.

"Look who's finally back"

It had taken you a while to realise that Esteban was talking to you: you couldn't remember ever having spoken a word to him when you went to watch the races. He must have noticed, as he snorted a laugh before showing you a photo in which oh, yeah, that was definitely you wearing a sweatshirt kindly donated by Max standing next to you

The other kid in the photo must have been Esteban but in your eyes he was so different that you had to alternate your gaze between him and the photo before you really realised.

"You were always nice to everyone. It was a shame not to see you around any more."

He had been the first to say it, but after meeting other drivers the general thought seemed the same: you were someone who, despite everything, stuck out.

Not once had the thought of how you would behave if you met Max crossed your mind.

That's why you didn't know how to react when you met him.

Although perhaps it was more accurate to say that it was he who had met you.

It wasn't that you hadn't recognised him, you were realising that the man in front of you, with the two glasses in his hand, wasn't one of the many people there.

It was Max Verstappen.

The same Max Verstappen who didn't know how to deal with others, who watched from afar as the other children played, not knowing which way to approach them.

You didn't know what it was, whether an involuntary reflex or something else, but you broke that embarrassed silence.

Yours was not a question to be answered with ‘less than you think’, and you were ready to ask for an argument if he did not ask another question

"Why didn't you come to the Redbull pit?"

That wasn't a question to ask someone you hadn't seen in a long time, especially not in that tone that almost seemed to accuse you, when he had no right to do so

"Sorry what-"

"Why didn't you tell me you were coming to the races? I could've-"

"I didn't have to tell you tho" maybe you had been too blunt in answering him, but it was true. You didn't have to give any information, plus it would have been weird to tell Max with whom you had been radio silent for years "We hadn't talked in ages, I couldn't just text you. It didn't feel right, you know?"

You had seen his gaze change and could feel the wheels turning in his head, but you too had started to ask yourself some questions

"Didn't think you knew I was there … Was it Vic who told you?"

"Heard you on the radio"

Oh. You didn't think Max was a radio guy, honestly. Not least because even though they'd changed them, your column times still remained infamous.

There was another silence that led to your apology for his break-up with Kelly, a subject Max didn't seem to want to talk about at all, given the fleeting change of expression.

He was pensive. And sad. Yet more proof of how important Kelly was to him.

Somewhat resentfully you wondered if he had ever made such an expression thinking about you, although you found it difficult that between all his commitments Max found time to think about you. He hadn't thought about you since he started dating Kelly, why would he now

"I can get you a pass, if you plan to watch the race"

You had laughed.

What else were you supposed to do in a situation that oscillated between the ridiculous and the comical

"If I plan to watch the race? I don't think you will ever find someone who's not here for the race. Well, they sure have other things to do, but you know what I mean"

It was common knowledge that the Montecarlo race was the VIP hangout, and you didn't think you had to be the one to explain it to Max

"I appreciate the thought, but I already got my pass, but thank you"

you backed away from the railing you had been leaning against, convinced that the conversation would end there, now that you had nothing to go on talking about, but what he asked next left you mildly surprised

"Even for Quali?"

He "You… “ remembered "have my attention"

It wasn't common knowledge, but you often preferred qualifying to racing: there was something about pre-race performances that gave you goosebumps, an adrenaline rush you could never quite describe. Max knew it. He'd listened to you for hours as you explained how the qualifying air was different, and he often agreed with you, even if he would just put his head down and let you talk.

Time may have passed, but he still had that same expression that you had never been able to put a name to.

You had smiled when you recognised Raymond's voice greeting you: he had been Verstappen's manager for as long as you could remember, but it was he who had steered you into the world of radio. You owed him a lot -

(Did that make you an honorary nepo- baby of some kind?).

After asking him to pass on your apologies to Ray you were drawn into another conversation, and then another and another, that you almost didn't notice how Max's presence followed you around like a shadow, though not physically, and how that seemed to make the others uncomfortable.

Almost.

It had been like stepping back in time for an evening: sensing his gaze from a distance, knowing exactly what he was thinking with just a glance, having conversations that lasted a blink of an eye, a slight smile or a shake of the head

And you were pretty sure the next day you would have regretted not clarifying the situation right away.

It had come back to you why you thought you had a chance with him, why you had seen things that had never been there, why you had fallen in love with him

Misunderstanding Max wasn't difficult, in fact, he made it quite easy.

And you had always read too much between the lines

#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #mv33 imagine #mv33 fic #mv1 fic #mv1 imagine #mv1 x reader #f1 fiction #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fic #formula 1 #formula 1 x reader #light angst #hurt/comfort

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jonathan-cranes-mistress-of-fear · 2 days ago

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Genuine question, as someone who has characters of my own: how do I get over my embarrassment for having OC’s? I’d never make fun of someone for having them, but whenever it comes across my dash (especially if it’s ship art) I can’t help but… (for lack of a better word), cringe. I love people being creative but it feels like I can’t get over the backlash against things like that.

It's something you have to unlearn, and that's not always easy. I think as a whole, most fandoms are not OC friendly unless it's something like a videogame in which you create the main character from scratch. Most people will stick to already established characters, because that's easy to write. Very few are brave enough to make their own story.

Firstly, l'm going to discuss comics, this is a world of many worlds. DC as example has so many universes, and there's no way I could name them all. I think many of them are numbered, and fans who create their own usually make a numbered or named verse. Like, Codotverse! (if Codot can put his whole voice out there, you can do it too, btw)

Personally, I think the open ended-ness of comic worlds is a positive for fandom. It makes it so anyone can tell a story and despite it being fannon, it's really no less canon than what's in between the pages. Comic writers themselves can't get things straight half the time, heck I've been known to nit pick comics because they forget some fact about Jonathan that SHOULD be well known.

Now, lets talk OCs. The fact is, and this probably sounds mean, people would rather read about Scarecrow or Riddler then -insert Hench character for shipping here-

The reason is as stated above, it's easier to get into. They know what to expect. And unless this OC is someone you've been talking about for years and they have curated their own mini fandom within the fandom, most ARE gonna scroll by. That's sad, I know.

BUT that doesn't mean you should quit or be embarrassed about an OC. People can come to love them, but this usually takes effort and dedication on your part. You are the one and only author and content creator of this OC. Nobody else is gonna make content for them without insensitive. That means you gotta talk talk talk, and draw draw draw, then write write write. MAKE them care. People can very easily come to love and OC,. and i know this for a fact because I used to have my own and I always got asks, people wanted to draw them, or write stories, etc.

The thing is, you gotta embrace being potentiality embarrassing. If you don't take a step forward and put yourself out there, who will? This sounds very internal for you, and it's literally something that is taught to the youngins of fandom very quickly. Fandom, as a whole (think big here) will squash or despise anything that isn't palatable. And what is palatable? that changes often. Usually, fandom is a progressive space but that doesn't mean each and every sect doesn't have issues. Big issues that are spread between a lot of fandoms include misogyny and fetishization. This is why you sometimes see creators and fandom goers attacking canon female love interests and OCs. This is also why you see a huge influx of men being shipped together and any mention of either man loving or having a relationship with a woman is often erased. These two things go hand in hand quiiiite a lot actually. Just, a thing to watch out for and think critically about.

In the end, it boils down to making your audience care amongst a sea of easy to read and already palatable content. You gotta swim against the current. Make a space for yourself, provide something that doesn't exist yet. (for me, it was hi res comic scans)

Basically, don't let the haters win.

#this is very logn sorry #I have no idea if this helps #but hopefully it reaches something

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moirindeclermont · 2 days ago

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Bridgerton folks and welcome to all the new people!

This is "5 times Colin was Pen's first + 1 she was his", third episode.

Today episode features Pen without words, Colin having the time of his life, and another first (of course). Have fun!!

---

Pen was used to be a fairly sexual active person (for as much as she could do on her own) but since she and Colin got together it was like she was burning with desire. And the more they were in each other presence, the more it grew under her skin, like a itch. She could not stand anyone beside Colin touching her, she felt like paper thin, lust right below the surface.

They passed a couple of night together at that point, and as much as they want to savour every first, she wanted more.

So, with that goal in mind, she kissed her boyfriend (she was getting used to this insanity) and she set up the most obvious trap for him. She got him in her apartment (luckily free of housemates) with food, and hopefully he would get an orgasm too, by the end of the night.

To be fair, it's not like Colin could stop touching her either. She decided to order from their favorite Chinese, because there was no way she could stand up long enough to cook.

Not when Colin's lips were just there for her to kiss. They passed the time before dinner slowly making out ( her new favorite past time) and then they ate a bit.

Pen was starting to get nervous, though. A mix of arousal and nervousness that left her with little appetite... At least for the food.

Colin seemed voracious as always, and she took a bit of time to observe him (like when she thought their relationship would remain friendly, except now she could look).

They moved from the dinner to her room, and when her nervousness was starting to take over, Colin simply put a hand on her back, spin her towards him and kissed her. She want so sure she could resist a relationship with him when he continued to stuff like that so easily.

"Talk to me," and she wasn't sure she could speak, so instead her hand sneak up to touch the skin just above his pants.

"Pen!"

"I want to, would you show me how?"

Another kiss. Sweeter this time, somehow.

He nodded, unclasping his belt and going to sit on the bed, Pen next to him.

He let her take the lead, so she touched him lightly through the underwear, feeling it getting fuller and harder under her fingers.

She asked him to remove his underwear too and Colin complied.

Pen was staring. She knew she was.

"Everything good?"

She nodded. She knew she would like doing this because it was Colin.

What she realized in that moment that she probably would love that just because she loved the act in itself.

She started touching Colin, eager to know this part of him too.

Pen looked at him when her hand was on his naked length and she saw him breathing rapidly, it was addicting.

"Teach me," she murmured and Colin chuckled "you don't seem to need directions," as still he took her hand and showed her the right pressure and movements.

She wanted to do this as many times as possible until she knew his expressions and she knew how to move her hand without looking at it. In time, that would arrive. For now, she compromised on watching him every minute or so. She could not believe how wet this was making her feel. Colin noticed her predicament and helped her disrobe quickly.

"Lie down next to me," he said, as she laid on her bed Colin roughly to the end, she was on her knees so he could sneak up a hand and help her as well.

A kiss and then a wicked tought. She looked at him, and swiftly she lowered her head down, until she could kiss the tip and move her tongue around it.

Colin moved his hips, "Penelope," he moaned as she explored further. Colin was now with two fingers inside her again, and she could not think of nothing like taking him in her mouth. So she did.

Her first thought was that it was not as easy as she thought. Her second thought was that she didn't care. It was amazing.

She took her time, waiting a bit until Colin made her come again, before swallowing him deep, "Pen, Pen, Pen,"Colin was bubbling now, and when he tried to move her away she didn't let him.

She was going to experience this fully.

"Ahh," Colin moaned as his release hit and she coughed a bit but managed to catch it the most.

He urged her to look at him again.

"A marvel and a minx. I could not ask for a more perfect girlfriend," he whispered, kissing her.

Love was good, decided Pen in that moment.

#polin #bridgerton #bridgerton season 3 #bridgerton s3 #polin positivity #polin bridgerton #polin brainrot

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acesartemis · 3 days ago

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day three of @tommykinardweek -> supernatural creatures

for @dark-alice-lilith

“So, do you believe us now?” Tommy growls a bit after the question due to his current ... figure. He still can't hardly believe it and the fur is quite literally staring at him in the face.

A whine follows the question from a butterscotch-colored furry figure next to him the size of an honest-to-God, come-to-life Direwolf. Tommy leans over to give Evan a reassuring kiss — lick? — to the side of his face.

A human, hysterical laugh bubbles up from Eddie. “This — somehow — y'all are somehow messing with me. I knew those clams weren't — it's got to be — what bruja did you piss off?”

Tommy doesn't even curb the instinct to bare his teeth at the man. He could easily eat him, if he wanted to. Thankfully he didn't—at least not in that way. Instead, Tommy decides to head-butt Eddie so hard he falls over. “I knew we should have called Hen.”

Eddie rights himself, still snickering. He clicks his tongue and actually pets Tommy's head and when his hand moves just right by his left ear, Tommy wants to downright howl in pleasure. He's saved the embarrassment by another head forcibly knocking into his—Evan was never one to be left out.

The human of the trio laughs again, only this time it's fond. “Okay, okay. I can't forget about you, Buck.”

Evan positively beams as Eddie gives his ears a scratch, tongue lolling out and everything. It's absolutely adorable. “So, if we're stuck like this... What do we do now? We... don't really fit in a car.”

“Or a house,” Tommy chimes in. He resists the urge to scratch himself with his back... paw. He would not be caught dead doing something so… undignified, even if it were only in front of Evan and Eddie. Especially in front of Evan and Eddie.

“Wait, I got it,” Eddie says with a clap. “I wanted to surprise you both with a ski trip over the holidays, but this… whatever, is more important.”

He pulls out his phone, typing away with his thumbs. “Okay, so Bobby knows we’ll be out for the weekend. Annnd I texted Lucy to let your Cap know.

“This is so weird; I can't believe I’m gonna suggest this, but… I’ll drive and you two just,” he gestures at their wolf forms, “follow… by running, I guess? ‘Cause I don't think even my truck bed will fit you both.”

“Might as well make the most of it if we’re stuck like this.” Evan nudges Tommy’s snout with his own. “Race ya?”

Tommy gives his boyfriend a playful nip. “You're on.”

🐺🐾🐺

Twin blurs of butterscotch and gray follows Eddie's truck for hours as asphalt and metal and glass give way to grand trees in a breathtaking kaleidoscope of yellows and oranges and reds as they enter the Sequoia National Park area.

Eddie pulls up to a grand private cabin. The land is secluded and, Eddie remembers with a snort, “pet-friendly”. Thankfully a former Army buddy of his pulled some strings so that they could crash for however long this event lasted.

The man follows the path behind the cabin on human legs, happy to find the quaint back area to sit. The sun would be setting soon, bringing with it the chill of the night.

As he watches his boyfriends lope back and forth, legs long and strong and sharp jaws playfully nipping at each other, Eddie is struck with envy. Sure, this was a fever dream incarnate and Eddie still couldn't quite believe the two beings—now howling as the moon and stars come out—were real, there was a part of him that yearned to be out there, wild and free, with them. But he wouldn't let himself dwell on the dark path that was bound to take him on and just relaxed, snapping photo and video proof if this wasn't all just in his head.

—It would be just like his head to think up a grand concept and just... leave him out of all the fun—

Stop that.

Enjoy.

🐺🐾🐺

It was no surprise to anyone that Tommy tired out first. Being an actual wolf matched Evan's nigh-insatiable energy to a tee.

As the younger of the two continued his mission of sniffing every tree about the place, Tommy trots over to their third, grinning a wolfish grin, and gives Eddie a large, slobber-filled lick-kiss. The man startles a bit, his eyes adorably droopy.

“Sorry, didn't mean to wake you.” He sidles over to Eddie, laying out next to him. Eddie's fingers find their way into his fur, akin to his fingers scratching through his or Evan's curls when they're lucky enough to get a quiet night together.

“Buck still... wolfing around?”

“Duh.”

They share a laugh. Tommy tilts his head at him, frowning at the sight of Eddie clutching his hoodie to his body. They hadn't planned for this impromptu trip, much less the weather. LA nights got chilly, but not like this. “Why don't you go inside?”

“And miss all the fun? 'M fine!”

A low whine rumbles in Tommy's throat and he nudges Eddie with his head. “We'll be fine out here, what with the fur and all. The last thing we need is an Eddie-sicle.”

Eddie huffs, “It's not that cold.”

“And you’re not in protective Army fatigues anymore, either,” Tommy counters. They both knew intimately what desert-cold was, and this was far from it. But now all Eddie was geared with was a hoodie. Tommy also knew Eddie had a stubborn streak that would rival a bull when he wanted.

“C’mere, then. I’ll keep you warm.” If Tommy still had his human brows they’d be waggling.

“Hell no!”

“C’mon, aren’t I soft?”

“Yes.”

“And oh so waaarm!”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Evy, come heeeere,” Tommy calls, deciding to bring in back-up. “Eddie’s cold and won’t snuggle!”

Evan literally bounds over at the call, obedient as ever, tail wagging and tongue hanging lopsided out of his mouth. “Snuggles?!”

“Dammit, Buck, don't you dare!” Eddie warns but is blatantly ignored in favor of Evan (gently) body-slamming Eddie to the ground with his mass in a chaotic mess of kisses. Tommy gleefully joins in, wrapping his larger body around Eddie in equal parts protection from the elements and to ensure he doesn't escape. Eddie tries to wrestle Evan off of him to no avail.

“Okay, okay fine,” he relents with a fake pout, but Tommy is delighted to feel him snuggle back into his fur while Evan shifts to lay his head over Eddie’s body. They cocoon him thoroughly.

The trio are silent after that, taking in the breathtaking view of the clear starry night sky.

They are awoken by their shivering hours later, blessedly three humans again, only now two of them are naked. They high-tail it to the shower.

#tommykinardweek #911 #tommy kinard #eddie diaz #evan buckley #buddietommy #mywriting

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vampiricgf · 1 day ago

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☾⋆. ⁺. hello hello and welcome to my 1k milestone celebration collab event: Love in Mythos! this collab is inspired by the greatest love stories throughout our history; from greek tragedies to folk tales of divine love any and all works are welcome so long as they are inspired by a myth involving love! not exclusive to any specific fandoms (I have a lot of multifandom mutuals so I don't want anyone to feel limited!), all are welcome to participate! below you'll find more details + the rules for this collaboration as well as the masterlist

thank you to everyone who has supported me on this blog, this is a huge personal milestone and I wouldn't have continued to write this long without my wonderful moots, friends, and readers <𝟹

› this is a reader insert event with no hard word limit, your works can be anything from a few hundred word drabble to a full fic! gn readers, fem readers, male readers, everything is fine as long as it's reader insert

› submissions can be sfw or nfsw, it's entirely up to you and whatever myth is your inspiration! however because nsfw and dark content are allowed, to participate in this event you must have an age indicator visible on your blog otherwise I will not accept your submission

› this collaboration is open to any fandom! please just make sure to let me know what character and what fandom your submission will be for so I can properly list it ^⁠_⁠^

› character repeats are okay! two people won't have the same ideas or end result even if they're working with the same character so don't worry about having to be first to pick anyone, there's no pressure (although I do ask that there be no more than three people per character)

› all submissions must be appropriately tagged and any triggers must be appropriately tagged and/or listed in the work itself (like in a notes section or dedicated warnings section, however you prefer to do it). when posting your finished work please use the tag #loveinmythoscollab and tag me in your description so I can easily find all the works and list them + reblog them!

› the deadline for your works to be posted is February 14, 2025. it's perfectly okay if you post late though, stuff happens and tumblr doesn't take priority over irl stuff so just lmk if you need to withdraw or post later!

› when submitting please send your submission to my inbox, not dms and not in the replies to this post! that ensures I see your submission and can properly list it. when doing this please make sure you're specifying the character you'll be writing for, the myth you're using for inspiration, and the fandom that character is from

☾⋆. ⁺. currently TBA, this section will be updated as I get submissions and approve them! all works will be linked here once the collab end date passes (unless there are late submissions, those will be linked when they're posted)

#lace divider from @/toastray #banner made by me #rules and masterlist dividers also made by me please do not save and use them #writing collab #loveinmythoscollab #resident evil x reader #jjk x reader #bg3 x reader #sorry to clog the tags these are just the fandoms most of my moots are in!

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fragilefirstchance · 1 day ago

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I actually have thoughts about this! I think Ford is a specific type of character.

First of all: Let's talk about fanon!

Something I think that a lot of us forget when we're doing fan analysis is just how caricaturized all blorbos are in canon. This is true of any work of media: the characters aren't real people, they're figments who only exist as we see them on-screen.

Fanon is kind of like those AI image sharpeners that take a blurred photo and make it look like a person's face: yeah, technically that is an accurate way you can interpret the blur, but there are hundreds of faces that would be just as accurate, and not only are they all very different from each other, they don't even agree on the most basic and obvious traits. The same blurry headshot could be a scowling white woman with a square jaw or a smiling black man with sharp features. In a similar way, when we see a character become stressed because they just saw a mouse in a cage, we could say they're scared of mice, or morally opposed to pets, or that they have cage-based trauma - any option that works is plausible.

I think that there are characters who are good characters, characters who are uniquely good subjects for fanon, and a ven diagram between the two. For example, a lot of kids' shows from the nineties are bad, but they managed to produce a really fun and rich fandom. Meanwhile, some really beautiful and culturally important stories don't leave a lot of room for fan works because they've already said what they need to say. I think the absolute best works for fandom are the ones that are objectively good stories, but have really simplified characters: Undertale might be the best example of this, because every single character suggests a rich and beautiful personality while only being on screen for a relatively short time.

So that leads me to part two: Ford!

I think Ford fills a particular fandom niche that was empty for a lot of us.

He's extremely traumatized, and the more we learn about him, the more traumatized he is. He's kind of pushing the limits of what's acceptable from a kids' show, to be honest.

He canonically has a lot of difficulty making friends; this is partly because he's quirky and seemingly neurodivergent, but partly because he has poor social skills. He's not a cartoony, Eeyore-style "has trouble making friends but we love him anyway" character, either; there are tangible, in-story examples of him failing to make friends.

He behaves badly sometimes. This is actually my favorite trait of his - anyone who reads my fanfiction knows how much I love giving people with real flaws a chance to find love and be treated with respect. Most characters have a flaw to overcome, but in his worst moments, Ford actually lashes out and hurts others in a tangible way and not just a child-friendly way. Showrunners don't always like to show that sort of thing.

It is very, very easy to read some severe mental health symptoms into his behavior. Bill is a literal character, but he's also a pretty good metaphor: you can use him to explain hallucinations, dissociative fugues, sudden mood swings, manic episodes, severe depression, paranoia - the list goes on and on.

(That last one is really important. There's a pretty damn big difference between a good metaphor for mental illness and a thoughtful portrayal of that mental illness in a story. It's kind of like how many of us were so starved for queer representation growing up that we read queer metaphors into everything. Well, there still isn't good mental illness representation in most media, so we'll take the metaphors we can get. Ford is a really good metaphor even as he's presented, and there are a lot of holes in his narrative where personality disorder symptoms, manic episodes, delusions, etc. can slot in easily.)

None of those traits make a good Disney character. They only really work because he spends so little time on-screen; the books were only possible because of Gravity Falls's massive commercial success. So, he's a very rare example of a character who's from a light-hearted, positive, optimistic show aimed at children, but who has all of the template features necessary for us to read him as deeply broken in some ways that aren't sanitized or socially acceptable.

So, there are dozens and dozens of Ford AUs in which we project very specific experiences, traumas, and symptom sets into this one man.

How many Ford AUs out there are reflections of our own insecurities, traumas, and just general unresolved issues? Is that, like, his whole purpose in the wider multiverse of alternate Gravity Falls characters? 'Cause I KNOW it isn't just me

#meta analyis #Oh hey #Maybe I should finally pull out my meta analysis pseud

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kiisuuumii · 17 days ago

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to every woman and to every trans, queer, bipoc, and/or disabled person, i am holding your hand so tightly right now

#★#as much anguish as i have over the results of the election #i was preparing myself for this outcome #i'm not as ready as i want to be truthfully #as a neurodivergent queer woman of color i am quite scared #but to parrot some of the things i've heard people say:#it shouldn't be that simply being yourself is an act of resistance #but it is #it shouldn't be but it is #but it's also all the more reason to stay alive #do everything you can to not just stay alive but to live and to thrive #this world needs queer joy trans joy bipoc joy disabled joy #don't let anyone take it from you so easily #stay safe my friends take care of yourselves always but especially at this time #hug your loved ones and tell them how much you love them #the sun will come up and again tomorrow and again and again

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skunkes · 6 months ago

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if life is categorized by Before Loss and After Loss then I exist in the before but with a countdown to the after. and the countdown is always always present and debilitating. the loss will be debilitating too but i cant help myself. i will always suffer twice.

#i cant let go of it. i cant even enjoy good moments without thinking about how they'll just be memories one day #how they're already memories since moments pass so fast #everything is I'll Miss This and i already miss it and i cant believe once you're gone you're gone forever #and ill never ever see you again. and your shell is in the ground but where did the rest of you go?#should i look at your body one last time? on one hand itll be the last time i see you.#on the other hand it will be the last time i see you.#and the memory of you will die with me too. as if neither ever existed #it impacts me so much too bc i dont feel close to anybody really...and i dont make friends easily #so whats going to happen when the people who have always been there arent there anymore?#im going to be alone for so much of my life.#i will record your voice so im ready for when i cant hear it from the source while also knowing it wont be enough and one day #ill be wishing it lasted longer. it could be 12 hours long and ill want more.#how do you surpass this? it hasn't even happened. when it happens i don't know what ill do. considering my whole life has been #the timer. the countdown. hours and hours of anticipatory grief #and then ill be next. me. some of all thats left of you. it cant be true.#sorry. this gets worse every single year and its been going insane lately #id surprisingly been managing it well for months somehow ! it wouldnt cross my mind...and now its there again #like it accumulated and its all coming out right now. ive been crying for hrs tonight and last night #one day his things will just be things. things ive made and given him will be in my hands again.#talkys #i want to go hug my dad but then ill just cry over how one day i wont be able to....! how do i store it? how do i save it?#how do i preserve it forever....even as i take my own last breath....#i cant believe im the only one of me. and my dad is the only one of him.#i wouldnt want to be reborn as anyone else. i cant believe one day i wont get to draw or eat or be comfy in bed anymore.#i cant take it !! im so scared. ill be scared until the end. and you wont be there to hold my hand. im going to be alone.#and none of those years of grief and joy and memories will matter.#i wonder if it would help to tell him about this. i need something to hold onto for when it happens. anything. but i also know it'll make i #hurt more; obviously. just another piece of him that'll be gone one day

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icewindandboringhorror · 2 months ago

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I occasionally wish to reach out to old friends/acquaintances I haven't spoken to since high school/some other even earlier time in my life, but I have SOOO little social energy even for required tasks (like making dr phone calls or etc), I never have any leftover for extra ones, and it would be very odd to message someone I haven't spoken to in like 5 years out of the blue but then take 4 entire months to respond back lol.. My natural curiosity with nostalgia/collecting details of the past/etc. (literally if I were born a little earlier I would definitely do scrapbooking or something lol) is very strong, but, alas, not strong enough to beat out the Social Issues Demons apparently

#facebook always does that 'here's a post from this day 8 years ago' thing. and I see old comments interacting #with people and it's so like.. OOOOO~~ where are they now?? what's going on? how much have they changed as people?#how much are they the same? this is fascinating. i should contact them!!' but then it's like... take that to it's logical conclusion though #you would contact them and then IF they even responded it would take you 80 years to respond and then they would #think there was something wrong or that you were trying to be insulting or something. To contact anyone I need to include an 85 page #disclaimer of all of my social issues & mental illness things. 'If i take 3 weeks to reply I promise it has nothing to do with u' etc lol #THIS is why more people need to be into phone calls/voice calls/some form of audio real time communication/etc.#I think one of the main things that's hard about messaging through text for me is it's so unscheduled and open ended #(plus it takes forever if you're talking about anything in detail and gets very long very quickly)#because like you can send a message and then just get a reply whenever. and then you're expected to reply back whenever #so it's like you never know when the response will come or when a new obligation to reply can come up? so it's like this sudden thing with #no outline?? if that makes sense. whereas a phone call is very like 'hello let's schedule a call from 10am - 2pm on thursday'. And you know #EXACTLY when the interaction will start and EXACTLY when it will end and you can plan around it in your schedule easily.#I have the reverse thing of a lot of people (how people don't pick up phone calls/hate calls/only text)#I would literally talk on the phone with a stranger. I would have a discord voice chat with someone I barely know.#if someone I hardly even remember from elementary school asked to have a voice call with me out of nowhere I would do it.#but if a stranger MESSAGED me?? or someone I barely know sent me a TEXT or something?? I will never reply probably #It's just too vague and weird. and you can't read voice tone over text. and the interaction could last forever with no clear end #point and etc. etc. But a call is like. set. established. clear boundaries. you can read the flow of conversation better. rapport. etc. etc #I get that I guess people feel more anonymous or distanced over text?? but you can have fake phone numbers on the computer. or do like disc #rd calls. or zoom without a camera or etc. etc. Also the distance that's present in text is BAD distance because it just means that tone is #not conveyed properly and you will never truly get a sense of the person's conversational vibe or mannerisms or how well you really click.#ANYWAY ghgjh...... I'm so so so interested in concepts of like.. How did that one kid I used to talk to in elementary school #but then they moved away in 5th grade - how did they end up? what are they doing now?? etc. etc. Like despite the severe social anhedonia #and general lack of connection with others I'm just really fascinated in like.. idk. the human development of it all and like #the concept of how we're actually a million different people through the course of our lives ever evolving in different iterations and etc.#PLUS again. i love nostalgia. sometimes old peple you know might remember a shared memory or can tell you about something you forgot #or etc. like it's SUCH A COOL THING in CONCEPT but I am too socially inept generally speaking lol. which people I still talk to today are #familiar with my 'phone call once every few months' communication style. but strangers would just be like... wtf. And I don't blame them #Sure I literally cannot change the physical health + brain issues i have - but also I know enough to not put others through that lol

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skyteglad · 1 year ago

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the latest aita is making me sad. the teeth one. because like... when i was a kid, i was told to have braces! and that i'd need an eventual surgery! and because i didn't want to, my parents didn't make me.

that surgery would've changed my life. i'm not fucking kidding. i'm pretty sure 75% of my physical disabilities stem from not getting that surgery. and by the time i was able to bring up trying to have corrective work again, i was two years from losing my insurance, and my parents procrastinated. now it seems like a pipe dream it'll ever happen.

i get being resentful of your parents forcing you to do things you don't want to do, but god damn, if mine had actually really pushed me into getting braces, my life would be so much different and so much better.

#riot.txt #personal #vent #sorry i'm just. really emotional and maybe a lil triggered #bc SO MUCH of my physical and mental health problems can be stemmed to my jaw #and my teeth.#bc i didn't get that surgery i can't swallow easily. i can't take medication i severely need. my back and neck are bent in ways i can't und #due to lack of breathing. i can't sit up straight bc i can't breathe and that's caused so much damage to me!#if they'd have pushed me into caring for my teeth and my body it would've saved me SO much heartache and pain. i'll have no way of knowing #how different life would be #but i know for a FACT i wouldn't have certain issues i have now... i'd be on mental health medication i wouldn't have chronic pain i'd be #able to function in society without feeling like a burden who'll never be able to get on social security #idk im jst... PLEASE iff you have the chance to have orthopedic work done - DO IT.#if your PARENTS are going to be footing the bill and have good insurance i PROMISE thats a fucking blessing #bc i can't work anymore and the surgery i need that might fix a lot of my life is in the tens of thousands without insurance that i cant bu #anyways sorry to ramble n trauma dump but its my blog and if ANYONE sees this and it helps them or convinces them to get work done while #they can then. idk. feels worth it to be vulnerable :'3 #EDIT: also like... if they'd forced me sure i'd be resentful #but ykw i am rn? even more resentful for the intense medical neglect that stemmed from 'well he doesn't want to so lets not make him'#most kids don't want to go to the doctor. maybe if they'd taken me regularily to a fucking doctor i'd have more answers for what's wrong wm #like... god i'd have hated braces then bc ofc i would i was a kid #but i hate even more now knowing just how fucking NEGLECTED i was as a kid bc they let me make my own choices by going the hands off approa #iunno. anyways. nah on that aita. you're allowed to be upset and resent him for it but GOD he is not an asshole for caring about you #'your body your choice' does not apply here at all. i'm so sorry to tell u this. fdkgfdhgkjdgd #EDIT 2: didn't even MENTION the fact i have dehibilitating chronic migraines and headache that i suspect are directly tied to my poor denta #health!! LIKE. AT LEAST ONCE A WEEK FOR THE ENTIRE DAY #SOMETIMES (OFTEN) MUTLIPLE TIMES A WEEK.#i only JST NOW got access to medicatio to help w it and i CAN'T. SWALLOW. THE MEDICATION THAT PREVENTS THE MIGRAINE FROM GETTING WORSE #I CAN ONLY SWALLOW THE DAILY MED... BC ITS _SO FUCKING TINY_.#aahghghfgdfhgdfjd -puts face in hands-

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shotmrmiller · 20 days ago

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getting shot down by ghost without even asking him out or anything because he'd heard from one scottish bird that your type of guy was exactly like him and thinking back on it now, all the qualities you'd listed for your dream man do sound like as if you were describing him. yikes.

you don't take his rejection to heart, even though it does lightly sting but before you get a chance to explain that said scottish bird is an idiot and very mistaken in his assumption, ghost is telling you that it'd never work, you'd only get hurt and that you do take to heart because what does that mean, exactly? does he think you some dewy eyed farm girl looking for love? that you can't have casual sex with someone without eventually wanting for more?

"tha' ain't wha' i said. you'd get hurt, i mean look at ya." what about you? it's not like you'd let any of what happens behind closed doors affect your performance or anything, you and kyle always keep things professional while in the field.

also, is he aware that he doesn't have to have a reason to not want to sleep with you, or anyone else for that matter?

"you're small," he states, as if fact.

small? small where? your irritation dissipates, shoulders bleeding tension as genuine worry begins to set in. his vision might actually be going bad. could it be the black paint he wears under his mask? is it even safe to use on the face let alone near the eyes? did he read the instructions?

but then you realize he's looking at your legs, or specifically, what's between them and things click, and now you're wondering how someone so bloody brilliant could be this fucking stupid.

"while i appreciate your concern, lieutenant," you pointedly snap, "that's not even- i'd be just fine." he's a big guy, for sure. massive, if being honest. his neck alone is easily bigger than both your hands and you've caught him once or twice having to duck his head to enter the debriefing room but him being so endowed that it poses a threat to you is idiotic at best.

he hums, long and low in his throat, as he peers down at you through heavy lidded eyes, and raises his right shoulder in a shrug. "as you like," and that's the one and only warning you got.

simon had given you as much foreplay as needed, had lapped at your pussy until you forgot what day of the week it was, curled and scissored his fingers until his bedsheets were sodden and it still hadn't been enough. he'd only fit about a fourth of it in before he took pity on you and fucked your thighs instead until he got close, pushing his ruddy tip back into your aching cunt because "spillin' outside is a waste," and sent you on your merry way.

you're no quitter though and after some shopping online, your saving grace (dilators) will be here in a week.

(now to find soap and rip the rest of his hair right out his scalp for wagging his tongue.)

#i'd seen dilators and my eyes rolled to the back of my head #once again i am spreading the word of a ghost who is bigger than reader idc what size you are #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley smut #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x you #cod smut

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yuujispinkhair · 11 months ago

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Hockey player! Sukuna headcanons

Inspired by this lovely ask by @subarusuguru. You made my head spin with the idea of hockey player Sukuna!! Thank you so much for sharing your thoughts with me! I had to write a little something 💗

Pairing: Hockey player!Sukuna x Reader (female) Genre: fluff + smut Word Count: 700 Warnings: 18+, smut, mentions of injuries, but nothing bad. All characters are of age. Divider by @/benkeibear

Hockey player!Sukuna, who is a devil on the ice. The rival teams always know they will have several injured players after each match against Sukuna. He has a very aggressive playstyle, and his speed and strength, combined with his quick mind, make him unstoppable.

Hockey player!Sukuna, whose maroon eyes always find you when he enters the ice. He winks at you and makes a kissy face, laughing when you blow him a kiss back. The whole hockey arena can know that you are his, and he is yours. And anyone who dares make a rude comment about him being so soft for his girl will receive a brutal body check that sends them facefirst onto the ice or into the boards.

Hockey player!Sukuna, who has a mad glint in his eyes during the whole match. He is ambitious and confident, and he always plays to win. He loves being an asshole and taunt his opponents, laughing when he can get under their skin with his snide comments. But no matter how much Sukuna riles them up, they still aren't able to stop him because he always puts his whole anger and strength into his game.

Hockey player!Sukuna, who is a completely different man when he goes on the ice with his princess. Treating you with so much care and being such a gentleman. He holds your hand to make sure you don't fall when he teaches you how to ice skate. And once he can see you are ready for the next step, he lets go of you and tells you to skate toward him to get a kiss.

Hockey player!Sukuna, who has so much fun when showing you how to play hockey. Your time on the ice is filled with playful fights and good-natured teasing comments that are so flirty that you get butterflies the whole time. His laugh sounds different too, happy and free, and he only uses his strength to pick you up and pin you against the boards so he can kiss you until you are breathless.

Hockey player!Sukuna, who grins that charming grin when he lets you score and praises you for being such a natural talent, even though you know you suck. Of course, Sukuna also has to show off a little in front of his girl, and he steals the puck from you easily, making you gasp at his speed and watch with wide eyes and a smitten expression on your face as your boyfriend skates across the ice and shoots the puck into the goal with so much force it almost rips the net.

Hockey player!Sukuna, who feels a proud buzz running through his veins anytime he sees you in his jersey. Somehow it drives him crazy to see you walking around with his last name on your back. It spurs him on to play even better and show you that he is worthy to be your man. Maybe he should buy a ring and give you his last name on your ID too, and not just on a jersey.

Hockey player!Sukuna, who loves to fuck you in the locker room after every match when his teammates have left. A victory fuck to celebrate when he is still pumped full of adrenaline and euphoria, pulling you onto his lap and bouncing you on his thick cock while groaning in your ear and telling you that it is all thanks to your love and support that makes him play so damn good. Or an angry fuck after a loss to make him feel ok again, lifting you up and slamming you against the shower wall, snapping his hips fast, fucking you hard and deep, growling your name when he cums in you and finds sweet relief in your warm cunt.

Hockey player!Sukuna, who can't stop smiling when you dote on him when he is injured after a rough match. He has a high pain tolerance and doesn't really worry all that much about the injuries, but he loves it when you take care of him and look at him with so much worry in your eyes. It makes him feel so warm, and so he happily plays along and lets you change his bandages, pet his hair, and cuddle him.

Hockey player!Sukuna, who loves to win, but who thinks his biggest victory was winning your heart.

I am so in love with him!! Thank you so much for sending me that prompt!! I hope you liked my little headcanons ;)

Comments and reblogs would be very sweet 💗

#sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #sukuna #jjk x reader #jjk x you #sukuna smut #sukuna fluff #jjk smut #jjk fluff

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dmitriene · 5 months ago

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cw: possible dubcon, cheating in toxic relationship, reader is simon's dream girl.

retired simon ghost riley that dreams about having a sweet little bird to himself, adorable housewife that would make his days brighter by her tasteful cooking and little sanctuary between her supple thighs, all his to keep and devour.

that's when he meets you, sugary sweet thing that moved into his neighborhood, just a small road across his house where your own located, place slightly big for you alone to live, until he founds out you have a husband.

some disgusting likeness of a person, a man that treats you nothing like some pet, all sugary to you when someone's near, but making you carry your things all by yourself inside the house, letting himself huff at you displeased, tell you to “not annoy him„ when you suggest to say hello to the neighbors.

simon knows it's not a problem for him at this point, when someday he hears how you argue with your husband outside, for everyone near to hear, with your soft voice breaking down, hands clutched in shaking fists.

it's clear as a day that you need someone better, him, and not anyone else, not your pathetic type of a husband that makes you always wander outside alone, you need kind of a man that wouldn't make you shed your tears in vain, on the porch outside.

that's how he founds you, sitting late in the cold evening with your hands concealing your face that you can't stop wiping, your eyes and nose a watery mess, not even noticing someone approaching you.

simon's appearance makes you yelp, like a ghost appearing in front of you to snatch you away, and you jump on your legs, skittish, looking at him with hurt and distrust as you back away towards the door, until he lifts his arms in surrend and grumbles for you to “calm down, little tigress„

you do calm down, defiance slipping away under his hard and dark gaze as you mumble about what he wanted, that your husband isn't home right now if he's here for him, and it makes simon frown, all but wondering why would your husband mess with men that look like him, as you break in tears again.

little hiccups and chocked sobs slipping past your lips in broken melody, streaming down your wet cheeks and lingering on your lips where you lick them off, whimpering, and simon takes it like an opportunity.

his rough voice turning in grumbled coos, as quiet and soothing as he can muster when his hand settles on your lower back, a light touch, making his skin tingle as he tries to press you closer to him, close the distance and step away from your porch, which you do.

walking towards him on your own, where you brush against his sturdy chest gently, making him tug you in his arms for a careful hug, he knows he needs to be cautious with you, studies the way you remain a little stiff, and there's a lingering doubt in your head, because he's a stranger, an unfamiliar man, but you need this.

need these soothing cooes in your ear, a small pats on your hair as his thumb rubs circles on the small of your back, murmurs reassuringly about how “it's gonna be alright, little one„ and leads you with him, further away.

across the small road, from your house and towards his own, and you don't really resist, only hiccup brokenly about where he leads you, still attentive, smart girl that soon would be his, as he murmurs something about a cup of water.

he lurs you inside his house so easily, pressing a glass of water inside your hand and making you drink it down, cold liquid soothing your slightly raw throat, as he gazes at you openly, swallowing whole and still pressing you closer, calloused hand on your back that he can't stop rubbing.

you don't understand your own situation until he takes the empty glass from your shaking hand, as his own lifts to cup your cheek, and it's too intimate for a stranger, despite that you both live in the same neighborhood, because you barely talked once to each other, yet, it can't down the yearning inside of you.

for some care, the gentleness with which simon rubs at your cheek, looks into your still slightly damp eyes, before he lowers his face and brushes his lips carefully against yours, testing the waters.

through he's already bounded you against him, your softness brushing against his sturdy frame, and it takes nothing for him to take you apart, devour, greedy hands all over you without a fuss, every little whine and whimper devoured by simon's mouth.

devoured like your glossy pussy that he eats on the counter, perching you on the cold and harsh surface with his warm tongue ravaging the rich sweetness between your puffy folds, pink muscle wiggling inside your tight hole as he slurps and thrusts inside of you, hungry.

separating your soul from flesh and bones with his kisses, feral and ardoring touches that he softens as soon as you twitch under him, soothing you with a sharp suck on your clit that makes you mewl, shooting sparks to your eyes.

simon spares you on his cock in his own bed, on soft and dark sheets that look better with your body sprawled on them, supple flesh naked with your fat for him to grope, at your round tits, at the doughy thighs that he spreads to see the way his rudy cock nudges against your sopping and tight entrance.

he would keep you here, to himself alone, fuck you until his hips would sputter and his cock fill your pulsing hole with thick cum, intil you would pass away overstimulated and trembling, satiated, cheeks wet and warm with tears not from hurt, but from pleasure, the one simon kisses off your face while you curl on his chest and snore quietly.

you wouldn't need to come back to your husband, to the house that next day would be empty from half of the things that were belonging to him, he will disappear without a trace and leave your life as pure as if nothing had happened, letting simon keep you, make you his.

main masterlist. quidelines.

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