#effects of coffee on teeth
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happyteethcare · 1 month ago
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How Coffee Affects Your Teeth: Understanding the Impact of Your Daily Brew
Coffee is one of the most beloved beverages around the world. Whether it’s part of your morning routine or an afternoon pick-me-up, it’s estimated that over 2 billion cups of coffee are consumed globally every day (International Coffee Organization, 2023). While coffee has its benefits, including boosting alertness and energy, it can have negative effects on your oral health, particularly your…
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binch-i-might-be · 1 year ago
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we've arrived at the time of year where part of my morning routine is lighting eight (8) candles before sitting down to have my coffee
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whitetusk01 · 4 months ago
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The Ultimate Guide To Teeth Whitening In Mumbai
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Are you feeling self-conscious about discoloured teeth? Look no further than The White Tusk, Mumbai's premier dental clinic renowned for advanced teeth whitening treatments. Teeth whitening is a non-invasive cosmetic dentistry option that effectively lightens tooth colour, removing stains caused by foods and beverages such as coffee, tea, and red wine, as well as from tobacco use and ageing. This procedure not only enhances your smile's appearance but also boosts confidence, improving social interactions and professional opportunities. At The White Tusk, we utilise cutting-edge Zoom Teeth Whitening technology, where peroxide gel is carefully applied to teeth during a 30-minute office whitening session. We prioritise minimising side effects such as tooth sensitivity by using higher concentration whitening gel and providing personalised care tailored to your oral hygiene needs. Maintaining oral hygiene with regular brushing and flossing is crucial to prevent extrinsic staining and ensure long-lasting results. Trust Dr. Vinita Tekchandani and our dedicated team at The White Tusk to deliver top-notch teeth whitening treatments in Mumbai, where your dental health and smile enhancement are our primary concerns.
The White Tusk understands that sensitive teeth can be a common side effect of teeth whitening, but with our professional teeth whitening services, we aim to minimise discomfort. Our teeth whitening procedure uses hydrogen peroxide as the whitening agent, which is applied to the teeth in whitening trays for instant teeth whitening. The cost of teeth whitening at our dental clinic in Mumbai is competitive, ensuring that you receive the best value for your investment in a brighter smile. Whether the stains are from foods and drinks or intrinsic staining, our treatments are designed to tackle them effectively.
We also recognise the importance of teeth cleaning and oral hygiene in maintaining the results of your teeth whitening treatment. Our team will provide you with guidance on how to care for your teeth post-treatment, including the best practices for brushing and flossing to prevent extrinsic staining and maintain your newly whitened smile.
Remember, The White Tusk is your go-to destination for teeth whitening in Mumbai, offering Zoom Teeth Whitening and other advanced cosmetic dentistry solutions. Say goodbye to tooth discoloration and hello to a brighter, more confident you.
To read more please visit: 
The White tusk
Plot no.450, Ground floor, HemKund Villa, 14th Rd, opp. Monkey Bar, Bandra West, Mumbai, Maharashtra 400050, India
+91 8108112511
The White Tusk
Dr. Vinita Tekchandani - Founder - The White Tusk | LinkedIn
THE WHITE TUSK ®️ (@whitetuskdental) • Instagram photos and videos
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fading-event-608 · 26 days ago
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I TURN ON MY PHONE IN THE MORNING.
SEVERED LIMBS RED LINES ON THEM, CHILDREN EYES HALF-LIDDED UNMOVING STARING AT THE SKY ABOVE, ASLEEP, BLOOD ON THEIR FACES STILL FRESH.
I MAKE MY COFFEE.
HUSHED WHISPERS BARELY HEARD YET DOCUMENTED. AMONG THEM SCREAMS AND GUNFIRE, BURNING SMELLS AND RHYTHM OF BOMBS.
I LOG IN ON TUMBLR DOT COM.
SOLDIERS IN PALE GREEN HELMETS BULLETPROOF VESTS STANDING OVER LAYING MEN. THEIR POSTURE RELAXED THEIR TEETH BARED CONVERSATION GOING THEIR GUNS POINTED TO THE GROUND BELOW, TO PEOPLE FROZEN IN FEAR, ALL ACROSS THE GREY RUINS PAINTED WITH BLOOD GREY SKIES PAINTED WITH SMOKE.
I REFRESH THE GOFUNDME PAGE - LAST DONATION 4 HOURS AGO, 3 DONATIONS IN 14 HOURS. I DOCUMENT THE CHANGE AND TRY TO MAKE AN UPDATE.
NOTIFICATION INTERRUPTS THE FLOW. LINES OF PEOPLE PLEADING FOR BREAD NO END IN SIGHT. MOST WILL GO WITH NOTHING, TRYING TO COME UP WITH EXPLANATIONS FOR THIS FOR THEIR CHILDREN - EXCUSES THEY CANNOT BELIEVE IN THEMSELVES ANYMORE.
IS THIS NORMAL? SHOULD IT BE? SURELY YOU HAVE SEEN A FUNDRAISER POST OR TWO AT THIS POINT. YET I STILL REPEAT ALL THE THINGS I REPEATED FOR TWO MONTHS:
FALASTIN'S FAMILY CONSISTS OF 24 MEMBERS, ALL OF THEM STUCK IN GAZA AND SUFFERING FROM THE ONGOING GENOCIDE.
THE FUNDS FROM THE FUNDRAISER ARE THEIR ONLY HOPE FOR SURVIVAL. THEY NEED FOOD, WATER, MEDICINE, CLOTHES.
OF COURSE THEY ALSO NEED FUNDS TO EVACUATE BUT THE WAY CAMPAIGN IS MOVING THEY'D BE LUCKY TO GET GROCERIES TOMORROW. THEY'D BE LUCKY TO BE ALIVE.
FALASTIN IS RIPPING HER HEART OUT AND HOLDING IT FOR YOU TO OBSERVE EVERY DAY. SHE DOES THAT DESPITE CREEPS AND ZIONISTS HARASSING HER BECAUSE IF SHE LOGS OFF AND DOESN'T WRITE ANYMORE EVERYONE HERE WILL FORGET HER AND HER SUFFERING. A POST HAS A SHELF LIFE OF 2 DAYS, 3 IF KIND PEOPLE OF TUMBLR ARE GENEROUS WITH THEIR ATTENTION.
SO IF YOU SEE THIS: BOOST EACH TIME, AND FOR FUCK'S SAKE DONATE IF YOU CAN. AND CHECK THE RATES SO YOU DON'T EMBARRASS YOURSELF WITH A 40 CENTS DONATION:
10 USD = 106 SEK
25 USD = 264 SEK
50 USD = 529 SEK
100 USD = 1,058 SEK
DONATE ON GOFUNDME
CAN'T DONATE TO GOFUNDME? NO PROBLEM, HERE'S A PAYPAL LINK IN USD:
DONATE ON PAYPAL
WANT SOME EXTRA INCENTIVES? NO PROBLEM, HERE'S A RAFFLE FOR A HAND-MADE PALESTINIAN THOB: [LINK]
YES FALASTIN'S CAMPAIGN WAS VETTED, SEVERAL TIMES:
#282 IN VETTED GAZA EVACUATION FUNDRAISER LIST [HERE], #957 IN BUTTERFLY EFFECT PROJECT [HERE]
YOU CAN LOOK AT HER ACCOUNT [HERE]
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shotmrmiller · 10 months ago
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I like to think that Simon has no game. He's large, he's unapproachable, his stare alone scares away the women. Which was totally fine, until one day, he saw you as Johnny's screensaver on his phone. He was entranced, mesmerized. He's seen more than enough beautiful women on the orange youtube (his hand being his only source of relief for years) but there was something different about you. Maybe it was the tender smile you had on your face, or maybe it was how you glowed with happiness.
Or your eyes. Your eyes twinkled with affection, you looked at the camera with love. Love. That's it.
He can't remember the last time someone aimed a fond look his way. And whenever he stares at your photo, it looks like you're lovingly gazing back at him— and it gets him fucking hard.
Johnny once left his phone behind, for whatever reason, and Simon waited a solid minute, (60) seconds, before he picked it up, and took out his own phone to take a picture of you.
Simon wanked himself raw that night, his thick cum splattering over his screen, over your face. His refractory period that night was nonexistent.
And when Johnny one day was on the phone with you? When Johnny said, "Simon's here too, hen. Say hello." The way your melodic voice said his name? His cock was achingly hard within seconds, and he shifted around uncomfortably, willing for it to disappear.
It didn't. Simon walked with a wide gait, legs stiff, straight to the nearest bathroom and took himself in his hand. He gripped his long, thick length tight, and when he closed his eyes, he squeezed even harder, almost painfully. His tip was an angry red, from how tight he held himself, and that's how snug he imagined your undoubtedly pretty pussy would be around him.
He had to clench his jaw— grit his teeth hard, to keep the pathetic whimpers from escaping. Simon leaked pre-cum like a juvenile, stringy like egg whites, all over his knuckles and he hadn't even started pumping yet.
When someone knocked on the door, the snarl he let out was feral, a "Fuck off" so nasty, no one disturbed him again until he came with his head tilted back, and the vision of you riding him behind his closed eyes.
And then in the comfort of his own quarters, he pulled up your picture again— a blurry, too zoomed-in photo of a photo, and rut into one of his pillows, again imagining it was you. He thought of you on your back, legs open invitingly and waiting for him to fill you. He imagined the delicious moans you'd breathe out in his ear, your nails digging into the expanse of his broad, scarred back. He imagined your walls fluttering around him, the tell-tale sign of your upcoming climax, and you'd squeeze him so bloody tight when you finally did come, he'd move to pull out because there's no way he's not finishing with you. But you, you'd wrap your legs around his waist, and cross your ankles— effectively keeping him inside of you.
He'd cum on the spot, because you were effectively giving him your permission to finish inside. You'd rhythmically clench your walls to milk him dry, to take all of his seed.
And when his warped, fucked mind imagined you whispering an 'I love you' on his lips, he actually came, and he whimpered.
Simon's hips stuttered as his cock twitched and spasmed, spurting thick globs of cum all over his pillow, his bed. His breath came in shaky pants, his heart slamming against his ribcage.
After he stopped shaking, and was able to move his limbs, he cleaned his mess up shamefully, the post-nut clarity hitting hard, and as he switched bedsheets, he saw his phone light up with a notification.
Bonnie just sent this picture. Doesn't she look cute?
It was you holding a cup of iced coffee, and what stood out to him the most was your brightly colored nails.
He touched himself to the thought of those manicured hands wrapped around his cock, as you took him in your mouth 10 minutes later.
this was my inspo for this simon
@pieckyghost i really only have porn on my mind :( pussy on my mind, tighter than a headband.
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kurooh · 4 months ago
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— SPELLBOUND ! . . geto suguru
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⊹₊˚. while he’s out on a mission, suguru absorbs a special cursed spirit.
☆☆ 18+ content (mdni), fem! reader, unprotected sex, creampies, breeding, squirting, 1 face slap, slight exhibitionism, reader works in an office, NOT proofread..
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all he can do is run faster through the hallways of your workplace, heels hitting the floor rather roughly as suguru increases his pace. dark hair that’s usually bound in a neat bun and resting against his shoulders is currently tousled, sticking to his sweaty face. god, he’d been pulling his hair so much he made himself look like he’d lost a fight with a leaf blower.
security had initially been after him when he raced through the turnstiles in the lobby, but he’d been faster as he made it onto the elevator. ordinarily, suguru would’ve felt badly for causing such a scene, but this couldn’t be helped.
he’d been out on a mission, tracking a special grade cursed spirit in the depths of the city. according to some intel garnered through extensive monitoring of the area, he’d come to learn that this cursed spirit wasn’t just any cursed spirit…
this was some kind of humanoid curse that couldn’t be wrangled by local sorcerers and had even slipped up some sent over from jujutsu high. naturally, suguru had to get ahold of the curse and add it to his collection of special grades. now, he’d heard a few embarrassed testimonies about the curse’s technique impacting bodies and minds for a day or so.
suguru hadn’t expected the fight for submission to go as fast as it did, and he certainly didn’t expect the sudden surge of lust throughout his whole body the second he choked it down. unlike most other curses, this one was hot on his tongue and tasting of spice and sweetness.
suguru’s chest heaves as his feet skid to a stop on the carpet, right in front of your office door. without even bothering to knock, he throws the door open, effectively startling you.
“ah! suguru? what the hell are you doing here? i thought you were busy tracking—”
you take him in, eyes wandering over his broad frame. suguru’s a mess, face flushed and sweaty; his hair’s unruly and looks as though it was ripped from its bun in some kind of panic. looking closely at his eyes, you notice a lilac glow encircling his pupils, coloring over his usually brown irises.
“sugu?” you ask softly, taking a step closer. “hey, what happened? you look terrible, is everything okay?”
he groans loudly in response, hips banging against your desk as he slams his hands down on some papers.
“lock the door,” suguru musters, hanging his head as he tries to decide how to explain this mess to you. he hadn’t been affected after absorbing a curse since he was just a first year at jujutsu high, throwing up all over gojo after his new rainbow dragon wouldn’t settle down in his belly.
“will you tell me what’s going on, damn it?”
suguru whirls around, clothing looser than it had been before you’d turned to lock your office door. “i-it’s the fucking curse i was after! right after i absorbed it, i started feeling like this.”
“meaning?”
“i’m sure this sounds insane, but it was an aphrodisiacal kind of curse.. so essentially, my body and mind are aroused to a level beyond my control.” the silent implication behind suguru’s words has excitement and anticipation swirling throughout your body, cumulating between your thighs and dampening your panties.
with one look shared between the two of you and a quiet exhale, you rush forward and melt into him, his arms strong and chest sturdy against your smaller frame. dark strands brush against your cheeks as he tips his head forward to take the lead in a hot kiss.
rather quickly, his tongue is passing between your lips as his teeth clash against your own in a desperate attempt for more of you. more of your taste, made up from the sticky sweetness of your lipgloss and mixed notes of your afternoon coffee.
suguru reverses your positions easily, and suddenly you can feel how fucking thick he is through a few layers of clothing. you twist your hips, attempting to hump on his clothes cock, and he pulls your hand from his, guiding it to the bulge.
he’s struggling with your nimble fingers touching his cock just right, the sudden urge to cum rising inside him.
“ughhh, shit..”
quickly, suguru adjusts you; the small of your back hits the edge of the desk before your ass is scraping against it as he pushes you on top.
“off,” is all he commands as he drags his casual shirt and pants off, eyeing your neatly pressed pants and almost fully buttoned blouse. in this state, he’s doing his utmost to hold back for you — god, he would’ve ripped all your clothes off long ago.
“okay if i’m rough, sweetheart?”
your needy little ‘please’ along with your office slacks hitting the floor has him leaning you back onto the desk, papers flying in every direction.
although he always likes to drag out the foreplay and prep, suguru doesn’t waste any fucking time as he spreads your thighs and spits on your clit before diving right in to devour you.
“a-ah, shit!” you exclaim, voice pitched and shaking almost immediately. “sugu, lick my clit harder.. yes, just like that!”
large hands pressing down hard on your squirming thighs keeps you in place from moving anywhere but towards him and your orgasm. a mixture of your slick and his spit dribbles down his chin, catching the light as he leans up for a brief breath.
“oh—! feels amazing, sugu, ‘m gonna cum soon!”
weakly, you raise your head to observe the way he’s ravaging you, hungry for no one except you. your tits bounce as your body twitches, falling over the cups of your bra and almost through the half undone blouse.
you sit upwards, and he lets you go so you can wrap your thighs around his head. soon the blouse falls to the ground, discarded, and your bra follows suit.
“s-suguru, ‘m gonna— ‘m gonna cum!”
you bite down hard on your fingers as he lifts you and drags you up and down his face, slurping every last drop of your taste. he groans faintly as he licks your inner thighs clean, despite the fact that he’ll be making them messy again pretty soon.
“on your belly, sweet thing.” suguru punctuates his words with a smarting slap to your ass cheek when you turn over, and he picks up your panties from the floor. the lace is sticky with the mess you’d made getting so horny when he’d been kissing you.
he balls them up and shoves them into your open mouth, then circles the desk so as to position himself behind you. suguru can’t help but groan as he finally takes off his boxers, letting his cock rest on your ass before he moves any further. without wasting much time outside of your cunt, he spits on his cock and lubes it up.
he’s hot and heavy, then thick and absolutely throbbing as he nudges his sticky tip forward and between your slippery folds.
“fuck—! ughhh, shit, sweetheart,” he feels as though a bucket of water has been splashed on him, the heat and wetness of your cunt addicting as it envelops his cock fully.
you whine a little from the stretch, bouncing your ass on him as you try to adjust completely. with a hand planted firmly on the wood of the desk and the other pressing into the plush skin of your hip, suguru advances forward, driving his hips into you mercilessly.
“suguru!” a near scream of pleasure almost rips from you, but thank god he’d gagged you with those panties.
“shhh, you need to stay quiet, sweetheart,” he chokes out, the lilac glow in his eyes growing brighter right before they roll back into his head. “y-you’re real tight, baby, ‘nd you’re taking me so fucking well, shit.”
suguru is literally drilling you into the desk, but it’s still not enough for him. he only moves faster and harder, leaning his body over yours to nip at your jaw, nudging your burning cheek with his nose.
“i’ve been waiting to use your pussy like this since i got cursed,” he grunts, satisfied at the way your eyes roll back into your head at his words.
with each drag of his cock against your sensitive walls, you reach your orgasm quickly. your body twists beneath his as you sob, clenching on him and all over.
however, a rare pressure coils in your pelvis; tight and hot and ready to come out, all over him.
“sugu, ‘m gonna cum.. fuck, i-i think i’m gonna—”
your voice raises, words spoken fast and sounding just a little panicked. after all, it’s not like you squirt that often with suguru, and especially not on your work desk in your workplace with your coworkers walking the halls.
what if you got your papers and stationary all wet like this, by being nasty?
“go ahead ‘n make a mess, sweet thing,” his voice rumbles in his chest behind you, low and exuding hunger. “all over me, yeah?”
“a-are you sure?” you gasp, liquid already starting to drip from your pussy; you can barely feel it since he’s fucking it away.
displeased, suguru raises his hand and lightly slaps your cheek, just enough to sting but burn.
“of course i’m sure,” he grunts, eyes meeting yours as you tearfully turn back to look at him. “give it to me.”
just his words have your eyes rolling back as you cum on command — puffy cunt clenching as liquid sprays onto his pelvis and balls. he lets go too, pulling out and jerking his cock onto your pussy.
“fuckkk, sweetheart..”
suguru’s eyes, still glowing, fall shut as his cock shoots cum all over your quivering pussy; your cum mixes with his and starts to run off your clit, and you lean up to start cleaning yourself.
a strong hand presses right into the middle of the back and pushes you down immediately.
“sugu, we have to clean up, what’re you—”
“don’t play dumb,” he sighs, impatient as he rubs his tip in the mess covering your pussy before pushing back in.
you let out a choked gasp, which is unheard over the sounds of sticky skin smacking against skin. he removes his hand from your back and spreads your asscheeks, giving himself a nice view of your rear.
“one orgasm won’t relieve the curse, sweetheart.”
it doesn’t take much for you to melt, losing all your resolve as he fucks you into the desk with little mercy. your face’s pressed into the wood as tears pour down your cheeks, lips parted by sounds you couldn’t even think about holding back.
“i-it’s gonna happen again,” you mewl, unable to sit up or move much as you squirt on him yet again. the spray soaks some papers, and his pelvis, drops of liquid sparkling in dark hairs.
thoroughly fucked out and unable to count how many times you’ve cum, you wail his name, only one thing in your head.
“put a baby in me, suguru. fill me up, please.”
“oh yeah? that’s what you want?” tears of overstimulation build in his eyes but he just can’t stop fucking you. the position, view, sounds, feelings, place, all of it — he doesn’t want to stop.
“fill me up,” you cry again, pushing yourself closer to him.
“i’d much rather see your face as i stuff you full, baby,” and with that he’s pulling out of you, as painful as it is, and flipping you over with ease.
drool runs down your chin as you blink up at him blearily, not one single thought behind your teary eyes. your face crumbles as he pushes inside you, back arching off the desk.
“my baby’s been fucked dumb,” suguru laughs, glancing at your bouncing tits and rock hard nipples. “look at me when i cum, hm?”
you force your eyes open, noticing the tears in his own. he looks beyond amazing — face flushed, eyes squinted as his orgasm rushes up, long dark locks a mess behind him.
“i’ll put a baby in you,” he grunts, tone sounding just the slightest bit competitive.
inside you, suguru thickens and throbs before he loudly chokes out a groan and finally cums inside you. the warmth of his cum inside you has you squirting again, the slightest bit of liquid running down the base of his aching cock.
“think that’s enough, suguru?” you gasp, leaning your head back, body entirely limp.
he pulls out, hissing softly at the loss of your warmth. cum floods out of you, staining your skin as some drips to the floor.
“i could always eat you out..” he offers, grinning slyly.
“suguru, you just—”
a hasty knock on the door has you sitting straight up, limbs aching from being pressed into the desk as much as they were. suguru’s eyes widen, as do yours, as reality hits the two of you like a goddamn truck.
you recognize your boss when she calls your name, and a few of your coworkers’ voices. “is everything alright? we’ve been hearing continuous thudding outside of your office. the office has just been locked down, since some random ran in past security.”
you smack suguru’s shoulder, face contorting.
he shrugs dramatically before grabbing some tissues to wipe up your thighs, himself, and the sprayed liquid covering the wood of your desk.
“ma’am, we will be coming into your office. this is necessary security protocol.”
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writers-potion · 6 months ago
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Let's Scare Your Readers!
Combine the techniques below with the techniques for building suspense to give your readers a palm-sweating sensation!
Darkness
If absolute darkness doesn't make sense in your story, aim for semi-darkness: dusk, a single lantern/candle, heavily curtained windows, a thick canopy of trees, etc. Flickering lights that create confusing shadows can also be effective.
Let the darkness pool gradually around your MC. Show the night or fog rolling in, the camp-fire subsiding, or the candles burn down one by one.
Examples:
The candle sputtered. The light wavered.
The lamp cast its smoky light on the brick walls.
The night was silent, but for the dry rustling of leaves as the wind whispered through the trees.
Sound
Of all the senses, the sense of hearing serves best to create excitement and fear.
the clacking of the villain's boots on the floor tiles, the ticking of the wall clock, a dog barking outside, the roaring of a distant motor, a door slamming somewhere in the house, water dripping from the ceiling, the chair squeaking, the whine of the dentist's drill, the scraping of the knife on a whetstone, a faraway siren wailing the heroine's own heartbeat thudding in her ears.
When the surroundings are dark, your MC will grow to be more aware of the surrounding noise, even if it's not relevant to the plot.
Chill
Make it uncomfortably cold for the MC, and your readers will shiver with them.
powercut cutting off the heating, nightfall naturally bringing in lower temperatures.
winter, evening, a cool breeze that chills everything, survivors running our of fuel, the ceiling fan is over-active, stone builindg/caves/sbuterranean chambers tend to be cold.
Describe how the cold pinpricks the MC's skin, stunting their thinking and making them shiver.
The opposite can also be effective: turn up the temperature using a stove, an overheated motor, or the sweltering sun to make the MC sweat.
Isolation
This is a common technique: let the MC face the monster alone with no external help. It's also easier to limit the resources and escape routes available for the MC.
an abandoned factory, remote mountaintop, the depth of an unexplored cave.
It can also be more everyday locations: a construction site, the sewer, a malfunctioning bathroom.
Meet the Monster
When describing the threat, spread out your descriptions so that (1) the scene has constant action (2) you have material to build up later.
Good details to show:
hands, fingers, nails, talons, claws
the sound of the voice, growl, roar
the smile, teeth
the texture of skin, fur, scales.
Get Visceral
Never tell your readers that the MC is scared. Describe the fright using these physical effects:
the skin crawling, breath stalling, scalp pricking, clenching of the chest, stomach curling, heart thudding, sweat tricking down, clogged throat, pulse in the ears, cold sweat, chills up/down the spine, stomach knotting, breathless, etc.
The Gory Bits
Instead of describing everything, limit yourself to particular details, keeping overall description short. Non-stop gore doesn't shock - its bores.
Create a contrast: the child's mutilated corpse still clutches the doll. The brains from the baby's plt skull spill across the fluffy pink blanket.
Use similes, comparing gruesome buts to something from ordinary life. The intestines look like spaghetti in tomato sauce. The blood spilling from the mouth looks like lipstick.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* . ───
💎If you like my blog, buy me a coffee☕ and find me on instagram! 
💎Before you ask, check out my masterpost part 1 and part 2 
💎For early access to my content,  become a Writing Wizard 
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bombsonboard · 9 months ago
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metal arm brrr
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Summary: Every problem needs a solution. Bucky just isn't the biggest fan of yours.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Word Count: 1k
Tags: Fluff in the highest degree, old married couple, Swearing (It's Bucky, duh)
A/N: I just needed to give you guys something, it's been too long since i've written on here and you guys are the best :) I've barely checked this over so I apologize for any typos.
*****
“Can you stop moving, please?” 
Bucky Barnes half asleep is not someone you want to mess with. The first time you shuffled he had hardly made a sound, the second you were met with a low grumble (a warning you knew well) and the third strike, he was thirty seconds from kicking you out of the bed. 
When Bucky had finally learnt to sleep in a bed again, mostly thanks to you, he steadily became a big fan of his beauty sleep and god help anyone who ended up disturbing him. He had a lot to catch up on. Once, you had violently shaken him awake because his phone was ringing and when he heard Sam on the other line, you were deemed a ‘sleep thief’ for a week and a half after. Bucky Barnes was a bitch when it came to his sleep. 
You usually wouldn't have any complaints about being in his vice grip but it was January and the nights were still cold and having a boyfriend with a metal arm meant that you were held to him with an ice cold grip around your waist. When the Summer came, it was a life saver, your own personal refrigerator but you still had a good few months to go before you were hanging off his arm everyday. 
“Sorry.” You mumbled and tried to convince yourself you were comfortable without another word.
Nope, can’t do it. You shift again. 
“You’re kidding- what is it?” He pulls away from you and sits up on his elbow, glaring, he dares you. “Go on.”
With the most innocent doe eyes you could muster you slip your bottom lip between your teeth and debate the argument you could spark when your gaze slips to his vibranium arm in the semi darkness.
He doesn’t miss a thing, you’ve come to realize.
“I swear if you say-”
“-It’s cold! I’m cold! It’s just too much cold!” You burst, arms flailing in desperation. 
“It’s my arm! You said you wanted to sleep on my left, this is my left arm, nothing I can do. Okay?”
“There has to be something.” You search the room for solutions, briefly lingering on the sock drawer. 
“Oh yeah, sorry, let me just take it off.” Bucky grunts, dripping with sarcasm. 
“...If you could?”
“Seriously, fuck you.” 
Bucky falls back into his beloved pillow, eyes shut and wishing he has chosen a partner that let him sleep peacefully, then again, why would he want that when you exist?
“Look, either come to the other side or deal with it.” 
Silence finally reaches your bedroom and Bucky is deeply in dreamland while you lie awake, scheming away. 
In the early hours, you slip out of bed without a sound and make a beeline for the sock drawer, knowing you had some old pairs of slipper socks stuffed at the back. Scissors in hand, you snipped off the toes and smiled at the D.I.Y leg warmers. Oh, he was gonna be mad. 
With nearly medical precision, you held out the slumbering Bucky’s arm in front of you and one by one, slid the fluffy socks up the freezing metal until it was sufficiently covered. Thanking the universe, he was a pretty heavy sleeper, you shuffled back under the covers and happily wrapped the soft arm back around your waist. 
You slept like a lamb after that.
*****
When the morning came, you woke up before him like usual and briefly left him to his own devices as you made coffee, two mugs sitting on the counter beside each other. 
Through the wall, you faintly hear the rising of the soldier before heavy footsteps quickly storm in your direction.
“The fuck is this?”
You look up to see him in the doorway, and find yourself the subject of a stare that would send millions running. Not you. The multicolored socks lined up his arm kind of softened his hoped effect and you had to stifle your laughter. 
“A solution?” You shrug.
“No.” He points at you with his flesh arm accusingly “Nu-uh. This? This is not how we solve things.”
“Is it not? I’m really digging the rainbow on you.” The giggle you had tried to push down had spilled over.
“You’re a fucking menace.” 
The giggle now a full bodied laugh that had you clutching at your chest as you were overcome with the image of your big, scary, ‘world’s most deadly assassin’ boyfriend glaring daggers at you while donning the most fluffy and most colorful socks up his arm.
Bucky was fighting a grin with all his might, your laughter was like an ugly disease, incredibly contagious, hard to avoid, and annoying.
Something soft hits you in the face and you halt your hysterics as you peer at the slipper sock now at your feet. Lifting your gaze, Bucky is smiling smugly, and working a second sock off his arm. 
“Bucky!” You yelp and duck under the counter as the rainbow sock flies in slow motion over your head. 
You probably shouldn’t poke the bear but-
“Y’know, for the best shot the United States army had ever seen you sure do miss a lot.” You taunt from your hiding spot.
When there's no response, you make a break for the couch and get shot squarely in the forehead.
“Say that again.” He dares with narrowed eyes.
“Okay, truce. Truce!” You raise your hands in surrender. 
“Say sorry for last night.” The pink ball of fluff in his hands, a deadly fate, and you’re consigned to concede
“I apologize for last night.” You sigh, approaching him with caution “Now, it’s been ten whole minutes and you still haven’t subjected me to your obscene morning breath.”
He beckons you with his head and you happily plod over, throwing your arms around his neck. The kiss is sweet, and full of promised mornings to come.
It’s welcomed by you. Until you feel the coldest thing known to man, his left arm, writhing under your shirt and sending immediate shivers down your back. 
“Bucky!” You screech and his strong laughter descends on your morning with malice.
Desperately wiggling out of his hold, you escape to the bedroom and yell from your stronghold:
“That was an act of war James Buchanan Barnes!”
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retiredteabag · 6 days ago
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Sukuna would be a super challenging project partner in school.
Say what you like but he absolutely would be the type of person to expect you to do all the work. That, or he would pretend he didn’t understand and wait for you to get frustrated and do it yourself.
He would be popular, but not in the “likable” kind of way, but in the same way that kids always love the teacher that (not so secretly) hates them. He despised how people followed him around, trying to hold a conversation. Despite this, it was as if his fellow students were attracted to him like magnets.
Not you though, you didn’t like a man with an ego. You saw him roll his eyes and sleep in class. You saw as he crawled into his desk at the far back of the classroom, spreading his tattooed thighs in an undignified manor.
And when you were paired with him from a dual project? You could cry with frustration.
He would simply raise a brow at you with his arms crossed as you tried to explain what was needed for the assignment.
“Do you… understand?” Sukuna had hardly spoken a word to you, not just in this exchange, but in all your time at the school.
He would simply grunt, smacking his palms on the table, rising from his chair and sliding your page of notes into his hand. “Cool to go?”
How was it he could sound annoyed without you even doing anything to upset him?
“Right…” you sigh.
You would be working together for up to an hour after class twice a week, and as finals approached, you decided you needed to meet once on Fridays as well in the library.
The pink-haired man would hardly spare you so much as a glance as he scrolled on his phone during class and work time.
When you would text, requesting his portion of the project, he would respond hours later with, “I’ll just turn it in myself.”
You would grind your teeth.
No. Way. Absolutely no shot in the world were you going to allow this delinquent to turn in homework correlated with your name inversely bring your grade down.
You would politely insist on seeing (editing) his work, for organizational purposes only, of course. And his response?
“You worry too much”
You near throttled your innocent roommate with anger at his laissez faire attitude after reading his late message one evening.
On one particularly cruel Friday, you were seriously feeling the effects of finals crawling into your brain. You had hardly slept, spilled coffee on your textbook, and experienced car troubles that caused you to be late to class.
Staying to the end of the lecture to apologize to your professor for this lapse, you expected an understanding, “Hey, no worries, life happens, I’ve been there.” And instead received and overtly harsh, “Do you know how much participation counts for in my class? Don’t let it happen again.”
Was it childish? Yes. Was it overly emotional? Also yes. But did ever ounce of your validation come from the adult figures in your life? Of course. So how could you not cry at the knowledge that you had disappointed, let down, upset, one of the professors you had previously admired?
By the time you reached your seats in the library Sukuna was already laid across his own spot, not unlike a jungle cat.
This was the first time he had arrived before you.
Another wave of shame passed your consciousness at the thought of this no-good-trouble-maker showing up to the library with more dependability than you, and huffed a sigh.
Sukuna rolled his neck back down when you sat across from him. As usual, no words passed between you, but he seemed to be observing you closely.
He didn’t pull out his phone, he didn’t grumble responses. No, in fact, be pulled out a notebook and took notes. Finalized an outline for points of contention in his part of the project. And even seemed to consider your own writings (that you had been sending him weekly).
And even as you were starting to rise from your seat, he didn’t race off, groaning as if he had just wasted an hour of his life he regretted to never see again, but rather, stood slowly, and leaned down to try and catch your gaze.
Eventually, you had to meet his eyes, patient beast he was, and as your arms fumbled with your backpack, he just raised an eyebrow and murmured,
“Take care.”
Before he was gone.
Imagine your shock when your professor grades the paper and presentation you had been slaving over, after being horrified with the end result due to Sukuna inability to send his part in and after a panicked email about how unsportsman your teammate was, begging to please please please take into consideration the difference between students, with a glowing review, claiming that it was always a privilege to read “the two of y’all’s work”.
Turns out the delinquent who slept in class, avoided contact with fellow students, never so much as attempted to prove his understanding of the project, and stared blankly at you as your “tutored” him on the subject, was neck and neck with you as top student in class.
Son of a bitch.
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rottiens · 3 months ago
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✮ tags. (18+), fem!reader, bf!geto, established relationship, domesticity and fluff, reverse comfort if you squint, cockwarming, petnames (baby).
✮ wc. 1.5K
✮ notes. guys...I swear I didn't mean to do this smut, I swear this was going to be fluff,,
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"Hey."
Suguru calls out to you from the door of the shared room, his shoes absent, his white shirt unbuttoned —his chest exposed to your eyes, very few scars, the one or two moles and a marked abdomen, along with a path of curly, dark hairs ending where his pants begin— as he carries his uniform jacket on his forearm.
Your eyes filled with life, you've been waiting for him all day.
"Come here," you call him softly towards the bed patting the mattress, setting the cursed techniques book aside to focus on him.
Suguru shuffles his steps across the floor of the room, his shoulders are slightly down, his hair as he approaches you can see it getting more and more disheveled, loose strands sticking out from every corner of the perfect bun that once existed.
"What happened?" You question him, Suguru was at that point crawling his body to the mattress like a worm. His face remains just above your bare thighs as he looks up at you from below with eyes full of love, your fingers comb a lock back behind his ear. "I only missed one day and this is your state, huh? You missed me that much?"
Suguru rolls his eyes, then closes them, letting himself be dragged down by the weight of exhaustion. His long arms wrap around your waist and you lie like that for a while, so silent you think he's fallen asleep until his raspy voice shakes you, taking you by surprise.
"I'm tired."
"You want to talk about your day?"
Another grunt. "It's just that being a teacher is harder than I thought."
"This is only your second week." You speak in the same sleepy tone as he does, almost as if you're seeking not to wake him up.
"Satoru makes it look so easy," he says, still with his eyes closed.
"You know this is fun for him. He doesn't take it as seriously as you do." You try to comfort him, still massaging his skull.
You get a glint from his brown eyes as he opens one eye for you, squeezing the other.
"Baby."
"Hm?"
"I'm getting hard." You stop yourself from stroking him all at once, he moans. "Don't stop. I'm sorry."
"I thought you were tired." You were confused… this wasn't unusual but still, you couldn't help but frown somewhat incredulously.
"And I am… but I'm so stressed lately, I'm late from killing curses and you're not here, I get up early and you're not in bed and, ugh."
"Hm?" you insist.
"I've been thinking about you all day," Suguru sighs.
You swallow, nervous because you know where this road leads —you've lived it a hundred times already— your caresses become a little unsteady in his hair and Suguru notices, drawing a smile in his unconscious. Your skin feels very sensitive to his touch, his warm fingers hugging your skin where the pajama top can't cover.
"What have you been thinking?" you venture to ask.
"You know exactly what I've been thinking," he murmurs, scrunching his face against the warm flesh of your thighs. "About you, about your hugs, about your mouth, about your kisses, about your hands on me…"
Suguru opens his eyes wide, smiling without showing his teeth and your heart, never able to have adjusted to his effect, leaps. He leaves the comfort of your lap to get up, Suguru throws his shirt on the floor and settles on the bed to wrap his arms around you from behind, you arrange your body so that the two of you form a perfect arc.
You knew what that position meant, but as if Suguru thought you were in doubt, he adds, "Let's get some sleep."
Are you sure?" It was six o'clock in the evening, sleep now meant waking up like wide-eyed owls in the wee hours of the morning. It meant making coffee to keep you awake until you had to go to work again because there was no way you could fall asleep again.
"Just a little bit," he says, not mentally reasoning the same points you are. You let it go because he really feels exhausted and you know what it means to him in that state to have your him keep you close.
Suguru settles in better behind you, his strong arms holding you close to his body, impossible to escape even if you wanted to. His face is hidden in your neck and the warmth of your boyfriend after so many days of being away feels good, his hands are on your tummy making circles that lead you to close your eyes.
Suguru moves closer to you, and though his breath on your skin makes you want everything more than sleep you try for at least a couple of long minutes, until you feel his arms stir like snakes in your body and move up to your breasts and squeeze. You lie still, wondering if he did it out of inertia until he does it a second time.
You groan, inevitably pushing into him, bumping into an erection that digs hard against your ass.
His calloused fingers search for your nipples on the fabric finding them instantly hard. Suguru sighs deep in your throat, squeezing your body a little tighter, the tips of his pearly teeth grazing your flesh.
"I thought you were sleepy…" you moan, throwing your head back, giving him the space he needs to suck on your skin.
"Shh," he shushes you with another insensitive squeeze to your nipples, Suguru didn't used to be so rough, but his actions only hid behind the desire when he missed you.
His fingers enter through your top and fiddle with your nipples, playing with them back and forth. You both continue the game for a while longer, him squeezing and tugging at them, you rubbing against his hard cock directly ruining your pajamas thanks to the non-existence of your panties.
"Put it in," you barble full of ecstasy, you feel him grinning near your collarbone.
"Already?"
"Yes, hurry."
"Are you wet?" he doesn't let you answer as he keeps talking— "Let me see… No panties," suguru emphasizes. Without asking permission, he reaches through the elastic of your shorts and positions himself with his middle finger between the soggy folds of your pussy. He rubs your clit, you blindly reach for his erection in an awkward position where you throw your arm back but he stops it; ceasing to knead your breasts to make it prisoner against your back.
You moan, wanting to touch him too, but all prayer is half-hearted the moment his hooked fingers expand your pussy. Suguru is fucking it with his digits, you are obscenely wet, you soak him to the knuckles, staining your own thighs in the process and the room fills with the sticky 'click click click' sounds along with the chorus of needy moans.
Suguru kisses your wet temple.
"I missed you," he admits, increasing the rhythm, his wrist beginning to cramp.
"I missed you more! Suguru.. stop, I don't want to-!"
You try to stop him by pushing his hand away from you but this doesn't help much.
"Condom," he says through gritted teeth.
"We don't have…" you hate yourself at that moment for forgetting to buy but he hates himself more.
Reluctantly Suguru pulls his fingers out of you.
"Fuck it," Suguru growls. You hear him unzip and pull down his uniform pants, just enough to pull his cock out. "Let me fuck you like this…" he asks, taking your cheek and pulling it apart, exposing your ass and pussy from behind, Suguru spits on his hand and fucks the swollen tip of his cock for a while, just watching you dripping and squeezing around nothing. "I'm gonna pull out.." Suguru promises falsely.
"Hm," you nod looking back spreading your legs wider for him.
You feel him at your entrance, rubbing all over your wet slit with his even wetter head. Suguru taps your sensitive clit with his stiff cock and slides in one shot inside you before you have time to beg him.
You can feel him trembling and it's desperate. He doesn't move and you want to scream.
"Baby…" you call out to him, looking back up at him and he tastes the desperation in your broken voice.
"Let's sleep like this." Suguru wraps his arms around your waist again to the same innocent position as before, only now you can feel it throb and fill you to a point where you can't breathe.
"Babe…" you call out to him again, this time he spanks you lightly.
"Don't move, you're going to make me cum."
"Suguru…" You whimper a third time and he mischievously gives a deep thrust of his hips.
"Stay still. Let me feel you." He returns to his original spot, massaging your breasts and tugging on your nipples, you moan.
"I love you," you sob, trying to distract yourself from the fact that you needed to stimulate your clit, that it was throbbing and that you clearly weren't going to be able to sleep.
For a brief flash you imagine if you could make yourself cum silently.
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revelboo · 20 days ago
Note
The speed in which you crank out fics is concerning. Like, I appreciate it WHOLLY, but are you good? R u ok?
Rest is overrated, I run on stress and coffee. Yes, I’m good. I can write short form like this pretty quickly if I’m not at work or busy.
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Humans Are Weird/Cute Headcanons
Humans elicit one of two reactions in Cybertronians. It’s not like they haven’t seen organic life before, but the fact that we look vaguely like most Cybertronians in form? Our faces, our body shapes, two legs and two arms just like them? It either creates an unconscious association that we look like tiny, organic Cybertronians or that the similarities are just unsettling. Compounding it is the way we move, the gestures we use that are so eerily like their own. To make it worse, we’re just so helpless compared to them. Fragile. There’s a tendency to react to us like we would a newborn kitten. And for that protectiveness to eventually slide into possessiveness.
TFP Knockout
• Primus. The first time he saw you in full racing leathers, boots, gloves, and that helmet, he just stopped short in surprise. Thinks of the rare times he’d seen minicons and how you look like one instead of just another squishy, little human. And while he’d initially just been invested in figuring out how an inferior, little human beat him in a race, it doesn’t take long for him to start looking forward to those almost nightly meetings. It becomes less about winning and more about the bull session between you two after. Enjoying when you stand up to him, argue with him, even though you must realize he could hurt you so easily if he wanted to.
IDW Bumblebee
• It’s honestly such a pleasant surprise how tactile humans are. You seem to have no sense of personal space and he loves it, because it’s less lonely when you’re near. You don’t mind being picked up and carried, your little frame so warm in his hands or cradled against him. Always so curious, your little hands exploring his servos, while you smile to yourself. Then holding out your own hands so he can carefully manipulate them with a single servo. It’s like a game between you, showing off your little, blunt teeth so he will bare his denta for you as you sit on his thigh.
IDW Bluestreak
• Knows he can be a bit annoying to some bots, but you never seem bothered by his chatter. Actually asking him questions, interacting and it means so much to him when you stretch out against him, laying a cheek on him to listen to the sound of his voice rumbling through you. Liking it when he talks, wanting to be near him. The big surprise, though? How protective you are of him, not even thinking twice about throwing a shoe at Sunny for making a rude comment aimed at him, your little face red as you snarl at the much bigger bot, who’s too shocked at the outburst to respond.
IDW Starscream
• Having so little to call his own, he’s extremely possessive of you. It doesn’t hurt that you’re always happy to see him, greeting him when he returns from patrol, fussing over his injuries like you’re trying to take care of him. No conniving or plotting in you and no ulterior motives for seeking out his company. Aside from leeching body heat, and he hardly minds that, enjoys the feel of you sprawled against him, the peaceful silence.
TFP Soundwave
• Even though he initially took you because of the effect your strange organic thoughts have on him to try and understand why he can’t shut you out, it’s impossible to stay impartial. Every day he tries to inoculate himself against your thoughts, strengthening that connection through touch. And when you start reaching for him in return it’s a surprise. Eventually you sing for him not because he asked you to in an effort to distract you and focus your thoughts on something so they’re less painful to him, but because you want to. Because you think it makes him happy and it does.
ES Megatron
• He’d never paid much attention to humans until he’d met Dorothy, he’d fought alongside her and suddenly humanity wasn’t just something vaguely annoying getting in his way, under ped. It’s harder to not care after getting to know humans. Harder to not be overprotective about you after making it his mission to look after you. And maybe he’s a bit overzealous about it, because you’re not Dorothy. She can stand on her own and take care of herself, but you? You need him.
IDW Optimus
• He’s so used to being bigger than most Autobots. Of being looked up to, but you’re even tinier than they are. Small enough to carry in one hand even though he’s awkward about asking you to let him carry you at first. But after the spark twisting anxiety of watching you walking where bigger Cybertronians are walking? Seeing it not even occur to you that you might get stepped on? He insists on carrying you for your own safety, though, truth be told, he enjoys the feel of you in his servos, that little bemused smile you aim at him.
IDW Thundercracker
• He feels guilty sometimes about taking you, but it’s for the best even if you’re upset now. He’s seen enough movies to know how to coax you, win you over. He became obsessed with human love stories, the drama and romance. And he wants that for himself. Needs it. So he tries different tactics, little gifts and acts meant to convince you to love him. It’s so easy in the movies.
TFP Megatron
• The game you two play has become something of a guilty pleasure of his. Watching you pretend. Pushing you to see how far you’ll allow before you snap at him. Pretending you aren’t scared of him, though he’s seen the fear in your eyes once or twice and while it had amused him at first, he prefers you snarling back at him, all attitude. Your fear twists unpleasantly through him, but that angry defiance? So lovely.
IDW Soundwave
• He never meant to get so attached to you after he’d found you in Starscream’s quarters that day. You’re just so small and you’d looked at him in fear, your wild emotions almost crippling him since he couldn’t shut it out. Even after you calmed, days later, he finds himself reaching out a thought. Finding you and monitoring you from a distance. Again and again until he’d finally had to check on you in person again. After all, what did Starscream really know about caring for anyone, let alone a human. And that hesitant, little smile had warmed him when you’d looked up at him.
IDW Jazz
• The fact that you can see through his lies and will call him out on it? It’s a surprise and a relief. Letting down his defenses, letting you in takes time. He’s worn that smiling, carefree mask for so long. But he slowly lets it fall away when it’s just the two of you, feeling the absence of that weight he’d carried for so long. Getting to know who he is under the facade.
IDW Prowl
• Has to protect you since you don’t seem to understand just how small and delicate you are. Standing up to him and any other bot with zero fear. Something about that reckless anger calls to him. Around the other Autobots, he has to be the one in control, the one with a plan no matter what. Never allowed to falter or hesitate. You spark his own temper, making it easier to drop the act. Be frustrated or angry when it’s just you two. Be real.
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captain-hawks · 4 months ago
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— YOUR EX SHOWS UP AT A PARTY
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choose your fighter ; sakura haruka, kaji ren, hayato suo, umemiya hajime, togame jo
c: fluff, slightly suggestive content, all characters 18+ implied
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SAKURA HARUKA —
sakura straightens up considerably as you squeeze yourself into the last remaining bit of space left on the couch—which happens to be directly beside him. he looks between your flush thighs and innocent face several times, brows knit together as he stares at you in confusion.
you roll your eyes at the slight dusting of pink caressing his cheekbones before nodding toward where your ex is currently standing across the room. an annoyed sound makes its way up sakura’s throat as his eyes narrow, and he mutters something under his breath before unceremoniously grabbing your hand and lacing your fingers together.
a visible shudder wracks through him as you lean your head on his shoulder, and you briefly consider letting your lips draw near his jaw—but the cups and cans sitting dangerously close to where one of his feet rests propped up on the coffee table beg otherwise.
“can I just punch him?” he exhales lowly through gritted teeth.
your nose feathers against the side of his neck, and he sputters and chokes.
“i think this will be far more effective,” you laugh.
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KAJI REN —
“i’ll trade you for a mint.”
kaji levels you with an unimpressed look as he continues to peel off the wrapper to the lollipop clutched between his fingers, making a show of popping the small red ball into his mouth while you continue to wiggle the green and white striped candy in his direction.
“no thanks,” he replies, teeth clinking against the lollipop.
peeling yourself up off of the couch with a huff, you nudge his foot before getting up to go and find something to drink. in turn, he hooks his ankle on yours and nearly trips you, but he’s already turned away and talking to hiragi when you whip back around to glare at him.
shortly after, you find yourself clutching a plastic cup in the kitchen trying to avoid the newly-arrived presence of your ex in the living room. you nearly jump at the feeling of a hand grasping your shoulder and spinning you around, a warm body gently easing you back against the counter.
out of the corner of your eye, you can see your ex striding toward the fridge. but kaji’s hand cups the side of your face as he turns your head back to meet his gaze.
he doesn’t say anything as his thumb feathers over your bottom lip, stopping in the middle and applying just enough pressure to beckon them to part. you swear you hear someone call out your name, but you’re too distracted by the way kaji pulls the lollipop out of his mouth and slides it into yours.
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SUO HAYATO —
“truth or dare?”
the crowd gathered around the fire pit in the backyard laughs as nirei nervously downs half of his drink in one gulp while kiryu mulls over what scandalous truth he’s going to make him spill. ten minutes ago, you were rolling your eyes and laughing, too, when tsugeura drunkenly suggested the game in the first place. but now all you can focus on is the last face you want to see sitting across from you in the glow of the flames.
a shoulder knocks into yours eventually, and suo’s mouth hovers hear the shell of your ear as he leans in close from where he’s sitting beside you in the grass and murmurs, “i dare you to stop looking over at him every two seconds.”
you let out a quiet, undignified noise and try to ignore the shiver that runs down your spine at the feeling of his warm breath against the side of your neck. and then his voice is a little louder for everyone to hear as you belatedly realize it’s now his turn when he looks at you and asks, “truth or dare?”
there’s a challenge in his eyes, a spark that has nothing to do with the dancing flames reflecting in his pupils.
“dare,” you breathe out, well aware of the weight of your ex’s stare.
suo smiles, tilting his head to the side slightly. “kiss me.”
it’s tentative at first, the way you press a soft, careful kiss against your friend’s lips, lingering for a beat before slowing beginning to pull away. he lets out an amused sound as his hand slides up to cup the back of your head, and he murmurs, “look at me,” before bringing his mouth back to yours.
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UMEMIYA HAJIME —
leave it to your ex to ruin one of your favorite songs, you think bitterly to yourself as couples and groups of people dance in the grass illuminated under the glow of string lights. there’s a girl laughing and giggling as he tugs her into his arms, moving to the steady beat pouring out of the bluetooth speaker propped up nearby.
“may i have this dance?”
glancing up, you meet a familiar pair of eyes—ones that shouldn’t set your heart racing the way they always do, not when they belong to your brother’s best friend. umemiya’s hair is loose and messy, his expression soft as he holds a hand out to you.
“i can’t dance,” you mutter as he tugs you out into the grass.
“me either,” he shrugs, eyes glittering with amusement while he puts his arms around you. “but i’m pretty sure you love this song.”
your heart does a somersault.
it’s embarrassing, the way your legs threaten to give out beneath you at the feeling of his warm palms against your hips through the light fabric of your sundress. (it’s embarrassing, how long you’ve been in love with him.)
“did you see who’s here?” you ask, trying to keep your voice steady.
“there’s only one thing i’m looking at right now,” umemiya smiles, not missing a beat when you stumble and he steadies you by pulling you closer.
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TOGAME JO —
water drips down your chin as you repeatedly glance up and down between your soaked front and togame, who’s currently standing in front of you with his arms crossed and a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. the yellow scrap of rubber lying in the grass is the only evidence that remains of the water balloon that came careening in your direction moments ago.
“i’m wearing a white shirt,” you deadpan, slowly pulling at the dripping, nearly translucent material now clinging to your front.
“shame,” he nods, though he doesn’t look even the least bit sorry as he shrugs off his shishitoren jacket and holds it out to you.
you bite your lip to control your urge to inhale the warm, spicy scent that clings to the material. there’s something you can’t quite read in togame’s expression as he watches you, going still as you slide your arms into the sleeves.
“you look good in yellow,” he murmurs, shoulder brushing yours as he goes to walk past you, heading toward where someone is calling his name. “and by the way, your ex is here.”
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upsidedownwithsteve · 9 months ago
Note
perhaps some thoughts on Steve being real jealous and just needs some desperate reassurance (love u and ur work!!)
18+
“You’re so pretty,” you murmured.
Your nose bumped against Steve’s, barely kissing him, just letting your compliment graze his lips instead. He had his hands on your hips, kneading the soft skin there as you moved at a slow and steady pace, lazy as you fucked yourself onto his cock. Thighs squeezed on the outside of his, there was so much bare skin for you to touch, your hands smoothing over his shoulders as you rode him.
“So pretty,” you enthused softly, your thumb pressed to his jaw, his head tilting back to look up at you. His pupils were blown wide, his cheeks a lovely pink. “And all mine too. How’d I get so lucky? Huh?”
Steve groaned, lashes fluttering and his cock kicking up inside of you, twitching for his release. He squeezed your hips in warning, blunt nails scratching at you. “Baby, y’can’t say stuff like that.”
You smiled, saccharine and knowing. You ducked your head down, stamping lipgloss kisses to his cheeks, his nose, the corner of his parted lips. “I can’t?” You pouted, all faux ignorance. “Why not?”
“‘Cause I’ll come in two seconds or less,” your boyfriend gasped out, ears reddening at his admission. He groaned when you laughed, your pussy fluttering around him almost too tightly and he grabbed at your ass, stilling your movement a completely. “Don’t do that either, Jesus Christ, honey.”
“But you are all mine, aren’t you?” You asked, voice dropping lower, moving closer still until your tits brushed his bare chest. Your fingers found the gold chain he wore around his neck, playing with the links and pulling him into you. “And I’m all yours, Steve, right?”
The effect was immediate.
Steve grunted into the column of your throat, his teeth nipping at you as he began to push at your hips in earnest, desperate for friction. He was impossibly hard, nudging almost too deep and the slick, wet sounds of your cunt hugging his dick filled the room.
“Tell me again,” he gasped, hiding himself against you, his hips bucking up like he had little control over them. “Fuck, baby, tell me again, please.”
You pushed him back, hand at the base of his throat as Steve fell into the pillows, his jaw unhinged as he stared up at you in awe. He looked completely fucked out, his hands hovering over your thighs, your waist, your ass, like he didn’t know what to grab first.
So you helped him out, taking them in your own and bringing them to your tits, coaxing him into grabbing two handfuls and pushing them together in the dirtiest way. Steve swore under his breath, his eyes on your pebbled nipples that were peeking through his splayed fingers.
“You want me to tell you I’m all yours?” You asked softly, beginning to bounce a little now. Your knees were burning as you raised yourself up and down on them, but it was worth it for the expression on your boyfriend’s face. “That’s it, right? You want me to say I’m all yours and no one else’s?”
“Jesus, baby—”
“Just yours, Steve.” You nodded, skin slick now, the room too warm from your panting breaths, Steve’s hair sticking to his forehead and his eyes hazy. “No one else’s.”
“Fuck, fuck,” Steve chanted, nodding furiously as you worked yourself over him. “Just mine, yeahyeahyeah—“
“What do you think the guy at the coffee shop would think now, hmm?” You were goading, unable to help the smile on your face and you knew your words were working when Steve made a rough sound, an almost growling that had your breath hitching. “Huh, baby? He wouldn’t try to flirt with me if he saw me riding your cock—”
Steve cried out your name when he came, too sudden for him to do anything other than arch his hips up into you, chest heaving and eyes scrunched up in bliss.
He suddenly didn’t feel as jealous as he had earlier.
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proneterror204 · 2 months ago
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Vampire Cass!
Stupid Fruitloop and his stupid schemes! Right on Danny's class trip to Wayne Enterprises in Gotham, Vlad tested his Plasmius Maximus 2.0. Effectively taking away all of his Ghost powers for the whole day. In Gotham! He looks enough like a Wayne kid! He swears he already feels watched from the shadows.
Cass was restless. There was something in Gotham that was driving her instincts crazy. She already had her special smoothie from Alfred to curve her cravings, but there was something in town she needed to sink her teeth into. She needs to find it.
He's lost. Of course he's lost. just his luck he gets separated from his class and lost. Stupid Dash pushed him right into a dark alley! This is Gotham! He was literally almost mugged! Sam and Tucker weren't gonna answering his texts. Mr.Lancer had taken their phones because of Tuckers tech addiction being a distraction. "Not paying attention in Gotham could lead to disaster." How about being in trouble and needing to call for help? Great! now he's lost in an alley and... Someone was right behind him weren't they?
Cass was on the boy in an instant. He had good fighting instincts, but not good enough. She ducked under the punch he threw and grabbed his wrist. He used the other arm to block, she grabbed that wrist to and pinned both arms over his head and held them there with one arm. He then rammed his knee into her gut, but wasn't nearly strong enough to stop her. She grabbed the leg by the outer thigh and lifted it up moving closer into the boy. Putting her leg in-between his and leaning forward into his neck to drink.
Danny had no idea what was going on! He was standing on one leg, pinned against a wall, arms held above his head, and a woman was biting his neck. A sharp sting on his neck made him whine. He couldn't think straight and was starting to feel dizzy. The woman on him let out a sensual moan and he felt himself drift into unconsciousness. "whelp, second times the charm" Danny thought as he drifted away.
This boy tasted so good! He was like nothing she had ever tasted before! There was something foreign and exotic in his blood. When she had bitten him he gave out this little whine that was SO attractive, She had involuntarily moaned into him. She was enjoying every moment of this. The way he felt, tasted, smelled, the way he... He was unconscious! OH No! Too much! She needed to pull out now!
Danny woke up in his hotel room for the school trip. He still had his clothes on- Nope never mind! This was not his shirt! His favorite white shirt with the red oval was gone and now he was wearing a black shirt with one of the bat symbols on it. And his neck hurt!
"Cass where did you get that shirt?" Tim was sneaking into the kitchen, trying to get another cup of coffee. Where he found his sister in a obviously well-worn white and red shirt that he had never seen before. It clearly wasn't Cass's, though he knew she was a clothes thieve. She only gave him a smug look and said "mine".
Danny has no idea what happened in Gotham or how he got this mark on his neck. But he knows Vlad won't stop staring at it and won't come within 10 feet of him. He literally used it to case Vlad out of his house and down the street. It was hilarious! Maybe he should go back to Gotham and try to find out what happened.
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fangswbenefits · 1 year ago
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Consequences
Summary: Miguel’s obsession with you reaches a breaking point, and now he’s left to deal with the consequences.
Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x spider-woman!reader
Word count: 2.5k
18+. Miguel POV. Obsessed and jealous Miguel. Shy/inexperienced sweet reader. Pining. Pillow hump*ng.
Part 1 (if you’re just starting out) - Previous part
Miguel hadn’t managed to get a single second of sleep.
After having heard you mumble that name over and over, he had retreated to the living room, scanning through your file like a madman, hoping he’d find out who this person was.
Tom.
He had Lyla comb through everything, but nothing had come up.
By the time six in the morning rolled around, you exited the room with a long yawn, stretching out your arms, as Miguel sat on his counch, eyeing you intensely.
Still not wearing a bra.
Still in his shirt.
But having mumbled someone else’s name.
Needless to say, this ordeal had effectively killed his boner for good.
It was hard for him to hide his scowl. “Sleep well?”
Your lips curled into a satisfied smile. “Hmm. You?”
Laughable.
He nodded, not wanting his voice to betray his feelings.
“Do you think I can take a shower before I go to the lab?”
“Sure.”
You glared at him, arching an eyebrow. “Is… everything okay?”
“Of course,” he said, clearing his throat. “You have some fresh towels in there.”
“Great!” you chirped happily, disappearing into the bathroom.
Maybe a few hours ago, Miguel O’Hara would have been rock hard from the thought of you being naked with nothing but a door in the way.
But he was having a hard time focusing on anything beyond his blinding jealousy.
Who was Tom? A boyfriend? Family? A pet? Someone random?
Or someone important?
Why didn’t he know about this? Was he overreacting? Maybe there was nothing to be jealous of.
But he was sure of something: he needed answers.
He walked up to the kitchen and brew himself a cup of coffee, needing to deal with the headache that had settled.
Not long after, you emerged from the bathroom, completely soaked in the scent of his body wash, and he nearly gasped at how it completely overtook his senses.
Already in your suit, you quickly dropped by his bedroom to drop off his clothes, and walked right back, bearing a sleepy smile.
“Want something to eat?”
You nodded, sitting on the stool by the counter. “Yes, please. Do you have some fruit?”
He grabbed his cup of coffee and scanned the cupboard. “An apple?”
“Yes!” you beamed.
Miguel offered you one that you immediately brought to your lips, sinking your teeth into the soft surface.
To someone on the outside, this could be considered a moment between a couple who was just getting ready to start the day.
Everything looked very… domestic.
Except, it wasn’t.
Maybe he shouldn’t ask. Would it be too much?
But he had to know. It was eating him alive inside not knowing.
“Who’s Tom?”
Your eyes shot up to meet his and you immediately stopped chewing. “What?”
Miguel tried to appear as casual as possible, but something in your reaction made him regret having asked in the first place.
There was no going back now, so he might as well push for it.
Right?
“I heard you in your sleep,” he went on, taking a sip of his coffee. “You whispered that name.”
Your face had hardened lightly and your gaze dropped to the apple in your hand. “Uh… yeah. I’m sorry if I woke you up.”
I didn’t even sleep…
“Is he family or…?”
You swallowed and slid off the stool, waving a dismissive hand. “It’s no big deal. Wait… what time is it?” you said, tapping your watch. “Oh. I need to head back to the lab.”
At this point, Miguel knew he had maybe fucked up big time, and went into full on panic mode.
“I’m sorry that I asked, I-”
You immediately shook your head. “Don’t worry. It’s fine! Thanks for letting me stay over.”
He rounded the countertop and walked up to you, desperate to fix whatever he had just broken.
“You can take the day off if you need.”
You smiled again, but he knew that this time it was genuine. “That’s exactly what I don’t need. Now that I’ve managed to get the chips to work, I need to get back and run some tests.”
He allowed himself to relax slightly. From this distance he could smell his shampoo on you, and it made his heart clench.
There you were again.
His hardworking sweet girl.
You gave his arm a light pat. “Thanks again, Miguel. Your bed is really comfortable,” you said, heading to the doorway while rummaging through your backpack. “Much more than mine.”
He’d have it in your apartment in a heartbeat, and he nearly offered, but chose silence.
“See you later!” you waved with a smile before taking another bite out of the apple, and disappearing beyond the sliding door.
That smile could break a man.
It had broken him long ago.
And now Miguel wanted to scream.
To break something.
Not only did he not get an answer from you, but now he was under the impression he had crossed a line he shouldn’t have by having asked you.
He stormed into his room, and paced hurriedly from one end to the other, trying to decide what to do next.
That was until your scent gripped his heightened senses again.
He glared at his bed.
Your scent lingered in the bedsheets and, as if on autopilot, he paced towards it and gripped one pillow, bringing it to his face.
The family rush of blood downwards was almost painful.
You had been in his bed, and he had lost count of the amount of times he had fantasised ravaging you in it.
He allowed his digital suit to dissolve, leaving him fully naked.
Miguel knew deep down that this was too desperate. Even for him.
But that didn’t stop him.
Instead, he got on top of the mattress, right above where you had slept, and positioned the pillow lower, until the underside of his cock was resting on the soft material.
You had left his shirt neatly folded on top of another pillow and he brought the fabric to his nose, breathing in your scent mixed with his.
His hips rolled once.
It was intoxicating, but he couldn’t stop himself from slowly dragging his cock up and down the pillow soaked in your scent, soon to become soaked in his precum.
His grunts were muffled by the fabric and he felt his fang tear through it.
He wasn’t going to last long.
This was too much.
With a few more snaps of his hips, and feeling more and more precum spill out, Miguel was a moaning mess.
How he wished you’d be right under him, taking all those thrusts deep inside, whimpering and sobbing as he filled you over and over again.
The thought of you struggling to take him for the first time was enough to push him over the edge, and more sounds of fabric being torn filled his ears.
He stilled as a guttural growl broke from his throat, strings of cum shooting out and seeping into the soft fabric below.
His breathing was still erratic by the time his fangs retracted.
Once he found the will to get up, he picked up the cum-drenched pillow and decided to throw it away.
The post-nut clarity hit him like a thousand bricks, as he cleaned up the mess, allowing his suit to cover his entire body once again.
If you weren’t going to tell him about Tom, then he knew just who to ask.
Jessica Drew.
Pulling out two orange screens in his livingroom, your file immediately coming up. He then tapped on his watch twice.
Jessica’s hologram popped up. “Morning, Miguel.”
“Busy?”
“Just headed out to brief my squad.”
“Who’s Tom?” he blurted out, positioning his wrist so that she could see your file on the screen.
“Oh.”
He scowled deeply. “What do you mean ‘oh’?”
Jess clicked her tongue. “I mean that I’m not surprised this is about her.”
“What?”
“You’re not as subtle as you think you are, Miguel O’Hara,” she said with a teasing smile. “You might be able to fool others — hell, even her —, but you can’t fool me.”
That was Jessica Drew. Perceptive as always. He wasn’t all that annoyed that she could read him that well. After all, he had recruited her for a reason.
“I’m just concerned about her,” he said, admitting defeat.
“I’m sure you are,” she said, adjusting her glasses. “But maybe you should be asking her, no?”
“I did, and she pushed the topic away.”
She shrugged. “Well, I don’t know of any Tom. That name never popped up while I was scouting her.”
He felt disappointment and frustration grip him tightly, and he began scrolling through your file, wishing he could have missed something.
“Look, I may head out to her dimension later today, and see what I can find,” she offered with a sigh.
“Thank you, Jess.”
“But Miguel…?”
His crimson eyes darted to the flickering hologram. “Yes?”
“If she doesn’t want to talk about it, there may be a chance you won’t like what I find out. If I find anything, that is.”
Point taken.
He was started to accept that the truth might be an inconvenience for him.
But he had to know. The frustration of not knowing was driving him crazy.
“Just do what you have to do.”
She nodded and the hologram faded.
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The first time Miguel had been at to your place was to check up on you after almost an entire week of going without sleep.
You were stubborn. Even more than he had been in his younger days.
You’d go home, but continue working, so he had no choice but to restrict your access to the lab data from outside HQ. As expected, you weren’t happy, but finally took his advice and got some rest.
Now he was back, but for a different reason, and he could only hope things between you two hadn’t soured.
He had kept his distance throughout the rest of day, occasionally checking you through the cameras as the mic in your suit.
Nothing had seemed out of the ordinary.
But he had an uneasy feeling brewing inside him, so he had to make sure.
You had promptly let him in even though it was close to midnight, slightly confused as to the reason of him dropping by.
As he stepped in, he was met with a sight he hadn’t seen the last time he had visited: there were wires spread everywhere along the floor, mixed between card boxes and paper scattered across every possible surface he could set his eyes on.
“Sorry for the mess,” you giggled apologetically. “Wasn’t expecting visitors.”
Good.
But also… very workaholic of you.
You were dressed in just a shirt — seemingly wearing a bra, this time — and some sweatpants, with a pencil tucked behind your ear, as you paced in circles, glaring at your pad.
“Love what you did with the decoration,” Miguel mused, trying his best to strategically avoid stepping on anything. “Fire hazard aesthetic, is it?”
You paused to stare at him with a lighthearted chuckle. “Bingo!”
Your reaction made him feel more at ease. Perhaps he had read too much into things.
You were still acting like his sweet girl.
The table at the center had barely any room left, and he managed to find a vacant spot on a chair nearby. “May I sit?”
You were looking through a tube with five different wires running along it. “Oh… I was going to place this there.”
Miguel immediately moved away. “Right. Of course.”
Priorities of any scientist.
Flashing him your trademark grin, you moved around to rest the tube horizontally on the chair.
This place truly resembled his when he was first getting started with Nueva York. All the blueprints and planning and computers and screens.
Oddly enough, your apartment made him feel nostalgic.
“So, what’s up?” you said, before taking a sip of your water.
He ran a hand through his hair and heaved a deep sigh. “I wanted to apologise for earlier today.”
You blinked.
“That conversation… about Tom?”
“Oh!” you suddenly said as realisation hit you. “There’s nothing to apologise for, Miguel! It’s a non issue.”
Well. He begged to differ, actually. Whoever this Tom person was, it had already created a slight rift between you two, even if unintentionally.
And he wanted to fix that.
Miguel was a fixer.
“I just want to make sure that Tom isn’t going to become an issue. For you… or for us.”
He added that last part in an effort to compel you to talk about him, which stemmed from genuine concern. What if Tom was someone dangerous and that could put spider society at risk?
You waved your hand dismissively. “He won’t. Don’t worry.”
He bit the inside of his cheek, feeling the urge to continue with the questions, but it had become clear you weren’t going to collaborate.
It didn’t matter.
He would have information on Tom soon enough, and then he’d decide whether he was an issue or not.
But then… “Are you two close?”
He mentally slapped himself for his impulse.
“Oh, yeah… I guess you could say that,” you said, dragging your finger along the screen in front of you. “But, really, there’s no point talking about it.”
But why?
So he was someone close to you… he had dreaded this possibility becoming true.
But maybe… maybe it was just some family member.
He began pacing around with arms crossed, glacing outside the window and into the night sky.
Deep down, he wanted you to know he was there for you, but he also wanted some answers.
He needed answers.
“He didn’t hurt you, did he?”
At this, you slammed your palms on the table, a frown settling on your face. “Miguel! Drop it, please… it’s nothing.”
That was unexpected.
And so unlike you.
And it was enough to stop him in his tracks. “I’m just looking out for you.”
He was. Truly.
And for his relationship with you. A future one, hopefully.
Your features softened as your eyes met his, and he felt the sudden urge to close the gap between you two and pull you into an embrace.
But he chose to keep his distance, not wanting to seem overbearing.
“I know. I’m sorry,” you drawled out, rubbing your temples with both hands. “I shouldn’t have snapped like that.”
He shook his head at once. “I shouldn’t have asked.”
“I’ve been too overloaded with work, which is my fault, I know,” you said, pacing nervously. “But… I just want to help.”
Miguel sighed. “And you are. You don’t need to constantly prove yourself. No one will think less of you for not figuring things out at first,” he continued, and he meant every single word. “There’s so much trial and error in our line of work. We should work hard, yes. But not to the point of exhaustion.”
You halted, glaring at him like he had just uttered something unthinkable.
Unexpectedly, you were the one to close the distance between you two with unsure steps.
Dropping both arms against his sides, Miguel watched in silence as you paced closer and closer, your face holding a hint of sadness that should be forbidden.
You should never have to feel sad.
“I know you care,” you said, you voice but a whisper. “And I’m really grateful for you.”
Miguel’s heart sped up, as you tilted your head to stare at him. “Can I hug you?”
How could he ever say no to you? He’d give you anything. Everything.
You just didn’t know that.
He was left baffled and could only nod, and you wrapped your arms around him, pressed your cheek to his chest.
For a man who was perceived as a genius and had built an entire city from the ground up, Miguel sure felt like a fish out of water. So out of his element. He hadn’t shared this level of closeness with anyone in years.
But slowly, he managed to place one hand to the back of your head while the other pulled you closer, in the hopes that you would find safety and comfort in his embrace.
“Thank you.”
A few hours ago, he was humping his pillow thinking of you, fully drunk in your scent. Now, something else filled him.
Anger.
Rage.
No… there was no doubt whoever this Tom individual was that he had left a mark on you. And he couldn’t stand seeing his sweet girl like this.
He had to find out what had happened and what he had done to his sweet girl.
He would find him and he would break him if he had to.
Your tears were wetting his suit, and he had to muster all his willpower not to bolt into your dimension in search of him.
The fingers on your back caressed you slowly, lulling you into a comfortable position.
“I’m here for you.”
He felt your arms tighten around him, and he heard a sob. “Can… can you sing something?”
“What?”
“It distracts me…”
He felt puzzled at first, but he did want to help you. “Uh… anything?”
You nodded with a sniffle.
“Okay… uh… the itsy bitsy spider craw-”
You broke into a laughter. “Seriously?”
He felt his lips turn into a warm smile, as he kept rubbing your back.
Slowly, you loosened your grip around him and tilted your head to stare at him, chin resting on his chest with a sweet smile.
It had worked.
“You have such pretty eyes,” you whispered.
On impulse, he brushed his thumb along your cheek, wiping away a few teardrops.
His eyes then fell to your lips as they parted slightly, and he brought the thumb to brush along them, enjoying the softness and how your breath came out in shallow pants.
His sweet girl…
How he really wanted to—
And then his watch stared beeping, cutting the moment short.
Of course.
You jolted and he bent his arm and glared, as spider-byte’s hologram emerged. “Boss, Jessica has found subject A on Earth-2848.”
Fuck.
You immediately tore from him, wiping away the remnants of your tears.
“My Earth? What happe-”
He quickly cut you off. “Send me the file.”
Margo glanced briefly at you. “Uploading the file, boss.”
Miguel immediately terminated contact, and the hologram dissolved. He was then met with your questioning face
“Is it an anomaly? Is everything okay?”
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “We are just tracking some unusual activity.”
He didn’t want to lie to you.
But you had left him no choice.
He had to know who Tom was.
For you.
“I’m taking care of it,” he tried to reassure again.
You didn’t seem all that convinced, but didn’t insist.
Instead, you took a few steps back, and he felt your warmth painfully leave him at once.
He could get used to it so easily.
Then, he glared down at the screen of his watch, waiting for the file to be ready.
“Hey, Miguel?”
79%
Almost there.
“Miguel?”
His gaze remained fixed. “Hmm?”
“Do you think you can unlock my suit settings?”
That made him snap his head to glare at you.
What?
You were holding your pad, extending it to him. “I’ve been getting this weird interference in my suit,” you sniffled, eyes still puffy from crying. “I wanted to troubleshoot, but it doesn’t let me access the settings.”
Of course not. He had made sure of that.
But something else began looming over him… “What kind of interference?”
You shrugged, tapping the screen. “Static, I think? I only hear it from time to time, though.”
Miguel’s heart instantly dropped, Lyla’s words of caution ringing inside his head: “You’re not the only tech savvy spider here.”
No, no, no…
“So… can you let me in?”
The mic.
Fuck.
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Part 5
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Masterlist
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konigsblog · 2 months ago
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OCTOBER 5TH — DENTIST!SOAP. Who would've thought that a simple, quick dentist visit would end in tears and a bloody mess? (KIDNAPPING, NON-CON, GRAPHIC DESCRIPTIONS)
2024 KINKTOBER MASTERLIST. (DAY 5)
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You never appreciated male dentists. You always found that they were too rough and firm against your teeth, lacking gentleness and softness, and Johnny wasn't an exception. The agonising sore throats you'd have after waking up were excused as nothing more than a common side effect. Sure, the taste on your tongue was bitter and salty and your throat ached for days afterwards, but you didn't dare question his work or throw around dangerous and threatening accusations.
Soap visibly cared for all of his patients, although, his affection for you always felt inappropriate, his touch feeling unnecessary. Despite being his patient, you saw him more often than you didn't, as if he was keeping a tab on you — keeping a watchful and predatory gaze on you. You found him in your favourite coffee shops, in your local library, despite living in a different city from you. You found him walking the streets, his eyes always fixated on your figure.
You never thought it would escalate to this degree, despite all the warnings Johnny had given you. His perverted glances and behaviour, how you always felt unusual after appointments with him. He'd look for any excuse to drug you up, using your throat without your knowledge as compensation for his hard work. You wouldn't dare question his abilities, would you?
You wished you had. Your surroundings felt distant and unfamiliar. You could feel the hard and messy concrete floor against your knees, his rough and calloused hands gripping your jaw firmly, with your mouth pried open around his leaking, swollen cock. His thrusts were cruel and brutal, giving you no time to react, to defend yourself from his selfish and violating actions. Not that he noticed anyway, with his head thrown over his shoulder, lost in the addictive sensation of your slick mouth drooling and slobbering around his growing shaft. His threats were haunting, your stomach churning simply at the thought.
“Quit using’ yer teeth,” Johnny growled out hoarsely, his groans full of selfish and entitled pleasure, with the head of his creamy cock prodding against the back of your throat. Your eyes quickly welled with tears, your bottom lip quivering around his base as you struggled to adapt to his stoff length and girth, gagging instinctively at the sickening and disturbing realisation.
“I won’t hesitate to pull yer teeth out, Lassie...” His blunt and trimmed fingernails dug into your soft cheeks, his hold only tightening as he stuffed your mouth. You heaved and panted, nausea washing over you, your skin sweaty and clammy, your hair sticking to your face with his filthy scent pungent and potent, his pubes grazing against your nose as he forced his way down your gummy, smooth throat.
You knew his threats weren't an exaggeration, that he truly wouldn't hesitate to leave your used mouth dripping with crimson blood after taking a pair of pliers to your teeth, ripping them from your gums, your pearly teeth laying against the filthy ground with a pair of pliers ruined and soaked in your bloody saliva. You'd learn to become a set of holes for the deranged and debauched sicko if you wanted to keep that pretty mouth that he loved "working on".
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