#how many times do I have to say that shit :))))))
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cherrygirlfriend · 1 day ago
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pairing: frat!rafe x tutor!reader synopsis: reader attends a frat party where the theme is to dress up as your type warnings: fluff! wc: 1.3k i got this idea from the wonderful @rafeyscurtainbangs and it had me dead because it's so funny and i can picture him wearing that… i also tried out a new kinda formatting for funsies ^_^ also i'm surprised i’ve never posted for frat!rafe? anyway first fic for 2025!
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you'd never really been much into parties, your best friend constantly trying to get you to go to some of the various parties the social butterfly had gotten invited to, but you simply held up the book you were in the middle of and let out a soft hum as a way to say that you had your own plans. after some more pleading, lexi always gave up trying to convince you to come and left you in your own devices, returning in the early hours of the morning, trying to be as quiet as possible yet waking you up every time.
but this time, all the girl had to do was mention the frat party she was going to that night when you let out a sigh and told her you'd come with her. maybe there was a second reason you wanted to go, other than to just please your friend.
"we're having a party this friday."
you chuckled, turning your gaze from the book in front of you to the boy next to you, "you're in a fraternity, rafe. i'm pretty sure that happens every friday without exception."
your words caused the boy to roll his eyes, yet the small grin you'd grown to like still remained on his lips as he repositioned his backwards cap, "yeah, but it's a themed party. you should come."
"why?" you furrowed your brows in suspicion and confusion as to why he'd want you to attend, "what's the theme?"
"you're supposed to dress up as your type."
"and what are you going as? some kind of variation of jennifer from jennifer's body? or regina from mean girls?" you let out a small snort.
"guess you'll have to come if you wanna find out." the boy poked your forearm with the rubber end of his pencil, licking his lips, "i wanna see what kind of guys you are into. i bet it's some thrifty hipster dudes or some broody bad boys that secretly get hard for poetry and emily dickinson and shit."
you felt your cheeks warm from the memory as you placed the backwards cap on your head. you looked in the mirror, clad in loose jeans that hung low on your hips so it'd show off the calvin klein logo on your underwear, and a sweatshirt adorning the logo of your university. the outfit you wore looked just like something rafe would wear during one of your tutoring sessions. hell, he probably had.
lexi looked at you with raised brows, the muscular girl who usually wore dark, baggy clothes looked strange in the blue sundress she'd borrowed from you, her biceps basically protruding from the short sleeves, the girl's short black hair pulled up into a tiny attempt at a ponytail, wearing some simple makeup that you'd helped her apply.
"you're going as a frat guy? to a frat party?" she snorted, taking in your ensemble, "damn, you date so little that i had no idea that's the type of guy you were into."
you rolled your eyes, throwing her the handbag that she'd asked you if she could borrow, "and you're going as...?"
"a straight girl." lexi said, her usual shit-eating grin taking over her lips.
"in that case, you could've just worn like, a grey hoodie, those flared leggings, and a pair of white nike air force ones. most straight girls here do. i think you've failed at your assignment."
"shut up."
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you were surprised by how many people actually dressed up according to the theme, especially over the number of frat boys wearing different types of skirts and dresses, some of them even sporting poorly done makeup looks on their faces.
having gotten separated from lexi almost the moment you arrived to the party, you were now leaning against the living room wall, hiding a part of your face behind a red solo cup half-full of some sort of concoction you'd found as you looked around. you'd always been better at standing aside, observing what everyone else was doing, rather than trying to join in.
you lifted the cup to your mouth and drank some of the nasty liquid, nearly spitting it out when you spot rafe chatting to his friends, just about managing to swallow it before you keel in laughter.
he stood confidently in a grey cardigan strewn over a white button-up that was so small on him it actually turned into a crop top, showing off the lower part of his abs, a faint happy trail as well as a defined v-line leading to a short black pleated skirt, his calves covered by black socks that ended just below his knees.
it seemed that your amusement had caught rafe's attention, as the moment you'd finally managed to straighten yourself up, the boy was strutting over to you, his hands on his hips in a way that almost caused you to go into another laughing fit.
"what's so funny?" rafe asked with lifted brows as he reached you, looking over your outfit with a pleased look on his face before gesturing to his own, "you don't think i look hot?"
"oh, definitely. the hottest." you snorted, bringing the drink to your lips and taking a small sip before pursing your lips in thought, "so, what's your type? britney spears?"
the boy's brows furrowed at that, "huh?"
"you look just like her in one of her music videos." you explained, your lips falling open in shock as his eyebrows continued to remain furrowed, "you don't know 'baby one more time'?"
"i haven't seen it." rafe shrugged, "what, you can't recognize who i'm trying to dress as?"
"i can't say i do. who?"
"i'm dressed as you."
you knew that if you were able to see yourself, your eyes would comically widen the moment the words left rafe's lips; and as you looked at him up and down, you realized, that his outfit was something you'd usually wear; just more lewd. "you're... dressed as me?"
"yeah. and clearly you're dressed as me."
"based- based on what?" you laughed incredulously, feeling your cheeks light up, bringing the cup to your lips and drinking just so you'd be able to hide a part of your face from the boy.
"well," rafe snatched the cap on your head, placing it on his instead, making his entire ensemble look even goofier, as he took hold of the front of your sweatshirt. "i'm pretty sure i've worn this exact same outfit."
"that doesn't mean anything… plenty of guys wear this." you mumbled from behind your cup, only to have rafe grab it from your hands, your eyes widening as you watched him finish it in one swallow, scrunching up the cup and throwing it on the floor somewhere.
cupping your chin with his finger and lifting it up so you were looking up at him, rafe brought his face closer to yours, his ice-blue eyes looking into yours in a way that made you feel like you were naked as his lips twisted into a knowing grin, "it doesn't?"
"n-"
before you could finish denying it, rafe's lips were pressed against yours; your eyes still wide open when his free hand slid to your waist, pulling you closer to him.
slowly, you felt yourself melt into the kiss, your eyes automatically closing as your lips moved against his. your hands were pressed against his chest, slowly moving down to feel his defined abs over the sheer button-up.
you could feel rafe's grin against your lips before he even pulled away, looking down at you with a knowing look on his face, the boy licking his lips causing you to bite down on your lower lip, your head spinning from just kissing him.
"so, that didn't mean anything, huh?"
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lady0mandy · 2 days ago
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You know how many times I've been threatened? You know how many times I've been doxxed? Do you know how many men have threatened to kill me just because I have opinions they don't like? I even had a stalker at one point. For months he was contacting me. Every time it's the same shit: "he's not gonna do anything" "he's just trying to scare you" "we can't do anything unless xyz happens". I can't even get the platforms they threaten me on to hold them accountable. Social media is going around left and right censoring things related to the shooting and the random guy they're framing for it, but women can't even get these same platforms to ban the guys threatening to rape them? They want to charge a woman for saying "Deny. Defend. Depose" but they can't charge the dog that spammed me and dozens of other women with "you deserve rape and you are going to get it"? Luigi's name is being censored from social media platforms but they can't censor the people who said they were going to kill me? Or the people saying that they hope and pray that my cancer kills me? Get your forks and knives, fellas because it is time.
I'm sorry but this is such bullshit. Y'know how many times service workers have had the most deplorable fucking shit said to them over the phone? Never did jack shit about their threats but ofc they'll hold this woman for bullshit amounts of bail money because of shit she said after having her fucking Healthcare denied. fuck off dumbfucks
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rubyvhs · 22 hours ago
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who’d believe? | dean winchester
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summary. dean finds you six years after you ‘died’. tags. wc 2.3k, car sex (just fingering), angst, mentions soulless sam. lailas notes. this is for my ‘stuck on you’ by meiko square for @jacklesversebingo + actually got inspired by @little-diable ‘s not a ghost fic. so so beautiful and i think everyone should go read it! ++ for my 500 celebration, so happy i got to it so quickly && the title is the translation of the song title. and most importantly, beta’d by the incredible @copperboom82 who made it much more readable and enjoyable.
You were never really a bar type of person, mostly because of the loud noise and smell, other than that, you liked a good party. But you decided you needed to celebrate getting your dream job, or, okay, whatever, your friend is forcing you to. 
"I'm not taking no for an answer," she said, handed you your outfit and went outside to get the car started, not even giving you time to reject the idea. Though the second you stepped foot in the lively place, you were glad you came.
The drinks and music were exactly what you needed; a nice night out with no responsibilities. And especially no men (at least none like those you work with, you're honestly over them). 
An hour into dancing with your friend, two more strangers join you. When the last song ends and another less 'pop' and more 'rock' one starts, they suggest going out to smoke for a second. Despite not once in your life trying it, you agree. 
You should really work on saying no.
Thankfully you're sensible enough to refuse when they try to hand you one, just standing next to them, linking your arm with your friend's. "Where do you work?" You ask one of the girls. She has shorter red hair that almost reaches her shoulders, black eyeliner and a septum piercing. In other words? Fucking sexy.
"Police." Your eyes widen and you stand up straighter. "Oh, stop it! You're fine."
You laugh but shake your head, "No, no, that's not what I meant, you're just so— cute, I guess. Wouldn't have taken you for the assertive cop type."
"Yeah, well," she shrugs, dismissing the thought. It's obvious she gets it a lot. "Saw the hottest guys today, by the way—"
Her friend interrupts, beautiful brown pin-straight hair, pale skin, a gorgeous smile; "God, he was pretty. And his brother too…”
"Oh yeah. Agent something and Agent whatever, I don't remember, I was too busy looking through the shorter one’s shirt." You all laugh, a sway in your demeanor. You're pretty sure it's the alcohol that's got them saying all this but it's funny either way. 
"Yeah, he was amazing. Like, those green eyes, honestly—" Your smile drops fast. Green eyes had always been somewhat of a trigger for you ever since Dean, especially that specific beautiful shade. Then again honestly everything's been a trigger: hunting, black cars, vintage cars, food, pie— you could go on.
"Oh and the way he walks? The little outward bounce of his leg, so cute!"
You shift, a little uncomfortable. How many guys do you know with bow legs, green eyes and are cops? They're probably not allowed to tell you he's FBI. 
The red-haired girl touches your arm making you jump. "Shit, you okay, honey? You seemed out of it."
"Oh, no, I'm sorry, just reminded me of someone. Old…" Dean. 
There he is. Alive and in the flesh. You don't become a hunter and not hear about the Winchesters, you, on the other hand, fly under the radar. Especially since you try to stay away from any and all hunters.
But you heard nothing of how gorgeous he has grown up.
The girls catch your drift mid-sentence and look back to see what you're staring at. A dumb-struck Dean. "Oh! Agent…" Her friend elbows her stomach and Dean doesn’t peel his eyes off of you to speak.
"Right, yes. Hi, Officer." 
She blushes under the dim light but Dean apologizes before breezing past them and holding your arm roughly to drag you away behind the bar. Your friend makes sure to motion to you if you need help before you let her know she should just get back inside. It’s pretty damn obvious you know the guy.
"Are you fucking serious?"
You let out a shy smile, "Dean, hey, how are you?"
"'How are you?'" He mocks, letting go of your arm aggressively, "'how are you?'"
"Is that not what they say anymore?"
"Are you serious?" He seems to enjoy repeating sentences much more than when you last saw him. "I looked for you, I mourned you." You mourned him too, in a way. 
You and Dean were acquaintances, occasionally hunting together until you stayed at Bobby's place for a week and he came to visit coincidentally. You both started talking more that night, exchanged phone numbers and became somewhat friends. 
Sam left for Stanford and you guys stayed together more frequently. Sam came back and you 'died'. Not on purpose, obviously, but Dean thought you died. You did, for a second, before you were brought back for some twisted, fucked up reason. Not that you knew it but if you did you're sure it would be fucked up.
By the time you woke up Sam and Dean had been long gone and your body had been buried. Didn’t burn your bones like he should’ve, no. He buried you. You're not sure which is worse.
"Look, I don't know what happened—"
"What does that even mean? You magically come back to life; you fucking call me! Ever thought of that?" A thousand times. 
But Sam had finally decided to come back and hunt with Dean, Dean buried you, and so, you'd reasoned he was fine. You knew that if you were Sam, your body would've been preserved in the Impala for months before he'd ever allow himself to do that, to put you six feet under. The fact that he didn’t hold on to you had to mean he was okay.
But neither of you deserve more guilt. "I'm sorry, Dean."
"That's really rich. Real rich comin' from you. Grieved you for goddamn years. Six." Huh, that's a lot longer than you’d have thought. You were sure it would be six minutes. You knew he cared about you, but Deans also a 'what's done is done' kind of man.
"I'm—"
"If you apologize, I'll kill you. Again." You're about to crack a joke but his glare sets you off. Oookay, tough crowd, whatever. 
"I wanted to call, I swear I did," how do you explain to the king of 'I don't deserve good' that you don't deserve him. He'll think it's a cruel joke. "I didn't know if you'd want me to reach out, I thought you were moving on with Sammy, okay? Going on with finding John. Me calling wouldn't have made a difference."
He scoffs, shaking his head. "I went to hell." You bite your bottom lip between your teeth. He sighs, a mix of emotions on his face. "You knew?" Your nod makes him turn around in anger (disappointment? hurt?), kicking the cardboard box as far as it'll go, another plastic one breaks and you flinch at that one. 
In your defense, everyone knows.
"I couldn't do that to you and Sam, you moved on, Dean, I heard about you and Lisa and Ben—"
"Where the hell did you hear that?" Hunters talk. And he knows it. He turns around in an angry haze. "I didn't fuckin' move on, alright? I did what Sam wanted me to do when I didn't have you. Because my goddamn brother was in a cage with Lucifer, and now he's walking around without a soul!" He raises his voice until it gives out and so does his breath. You can't help the way your heart clenches, not even because of the words, but the tired look behind Dean's eyes. 
Subconsciously, you move forward until you can hug him, and like he always used to: Dean throws himself into it, his head in your neck as he breathes you in. "I missed you." He whispers. 
You don't believe how easily he's adjusted to this. If you were in his place you wouldn't hesitate to kill him, thinking he's a demon or a shifter.
He chuckles, his whole body rubbing against you. "Haven't hugged anyone like this in— ever. Was waiting for you." 
He's never been safe, always made everyone else feel protected, you could only hope you built a safe place within yourself for him. You're at least close.
"I missed you too, De. Every single day, I swear."
You don't know what about the sentence sparks anything in him, but it does. He pulls away to smirk and push you against the hard wall. You gasp, doing nothing but turning him on more and giving him an entrance to your mouth. 
He kisses you like he's lost his mind. He has.
His touch is electric as he pulls you closer, the heat of his body searing your skin, the raw intensity of desire saying more than words ever could. The kiss evolves, turning feral, almost carnal. He holds you, firm but tender, and rediscovers your mouth like a starving man. He is, he hasn't tasted you in… ever. 
This is your first kiss with Dean, but the explosive chemistry between you makes the blood scream in your ears. It was never a secret that you and Dean were more than just hunters to each other, and it seems you dying was his last straw. 
"We— Dean, can't here—" 
He agrees. Or he doesn't. He's still kissing you and you're not sure if either of you are breathing. 
Eventually he lets go. "Yeah," he whispers against your lips, moving for another kiss, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth, leaving a peck and panting out, "right." 
"'M sorry." God, why are you apologizing? Why are your bodies so far away?
He shakes his head, moves away (even if it looks like he's struggling to do so), "it's fine, what— you were here with friends? Are you staying?"
"Are you asking me to not stay?" 
He smiles, leans down for another kiss and you decide to say goodbye to your friends now or else you're never getting the chance. 
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"De, someone can see—"
"Don't overthink it." He says, burying his head between your breasts, kissing, biting, licking and loving all the noises you're making. He groans into your skin, nipping at a particularly sensitive spot that has you moaning out loud. "God, sweetheart, love that sound."
He moves his hands to your waist, thrusts his hips once, checking your reaction. A little tremor passes through you. Eyes hood over. 
"Can't believe you're here, and all for me." 
"Yes," you breathe, resting your forehead against Dean's, overwhelmed by his words and how close his hand is to your inner thigh. "Please."
"If I slide my hand up your skirt, will I find you dripping wet for me?" Another shudder shakes you gently. 
"Yes."
When he grips your knee and your neck, closing your lips with a kiss while his other hand travels higher, you start feeling your pulse hammering in your ears. The windows start misting over, giving you privacy— not that you particularly believe Dean cares. 
Dean moves his seat back, then pushes you until your shoulder blades hit the steering wheel so you're more comfortable, your legs bent on either side of him, hands braced against the door and his chest. 
"Dreamed about this," He says, his voice low and husky. The way his eyes are raking over your body, you're not even sure you're supposed to hear him. "Thought about this everyday for six years, sweetheart. Now I get to have you." 
He glides one finger between your lips, sliding up and down slowly. “Such a pretty pussy,” he groans, eyes focused between your legs and you fall over, your head on his chest, before he pushes you back against the steering wheel, "nu-uh, wanna see it. Wanna see how wet you are for me, baby."
You have so much to say— a lot of apologies and 'I miss you's’ and so many more beautiful words and kisses and you want to tell Dean that you care about him as much as he does you and why you left—
He dips two fingers inside you. Curls them immediately, and just like that, he finds your most sensitive spot. 
You half pant, half moan, the words 'Dean, oh my god, please' a jumbled drowned-out mishmash because he starts torturing your clit, his thumb rubbing perfect circles, hard and fast, reducing your bones to liquid. But when you're right there, he eases away, lazily pumping two fingers in and out. 
He smiles, exhaling a content breath as his gaze zeroes between your thighs, ignoring your pleas. "Yeah? you wanna come, darlin’?" the pet name and the question both bring out a loud moan you didn’t know you were holding, your hips involuntarily moving against his fingers until he stops you. you’re about to whine again but he increases the pace, crooking his fingers inside you while his thumb rubs your clit, and that’s all it takes.
The orgasm rips through you, powerful, relentless, so intense you think you might just black out. You’ve never felt so boneless in someone's arms, until your head falls right into his chest as he works your pussy, the sensation easing off and then coming again like waves crashing against the shore.
Dean doesn't stop. His fingers are rough, his thumb still being put to good use, and the release lasts so long. So fucking long you think you have an out-of-body experience. 
It takes a minute until you're able to breathe anything but his cologne. When you can, you sit up slightly and move into the seat next to him, thankful for the lack of a console to separate you since you don't get very far, just lay your head on his chest. 
He kisses your head. You can even feel his smile against the kiss until you notice the bulge of his pants and frown. You quickly get up and Dean's entire face falls. "I'm sorry, I didn't think—" 
Dean grabs your wrist before it makes it halfway to his dick. "This isn't an exchange, sweetheart." Your entire body is like jelly, you can't move and you're pretty sure if you try sucking Dean off, you’ll pass out. But it feels… rude. "You're spent. I'll get you home so you can take a hot shower, and we'll pick this up again when you're ready. How about that?" 
You can't fucking believe your luck. Dean wants an 'again'. 
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reidingandallthat · 3 days ago
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cranberry juice
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spencer isn't sure what to do in his days of addiction but there's one familiar stranger that's present to help him forget, if only for one night, or maybe more.
words: 3.6k spencer reid x undercover!reader tags: well, dilaudid addiction, dark inner thoughts, nausea, mentions of withdrawal symptoms, alcohol, talks of a bar that's commonplace for criminals ig lmao, all for the plot, metaphors using space time continuum, some other nerd talk, yk the usual. reader is supposed to be an undercover agent, but here there's not much mention of it because this is very heavily spencer's pov. very much apologize if there's any inaccuracies with anything.
a/n: EXTREMELY nervous to post this hahaha. this comes from that one post i made, and i have too many ideas for undercover!reader if this even works out, this is purely to quench my need for this idea to happen.
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The music in the club- though Spencer thinks it deserves a more modest name- was soft and slow, almost jazz, as the only couple on the dance floor clung to each other, swaying slightly to the music, the other part of the club which isn't so quiet is riddled with people surrounding tables and gambling rich men. It's not a common sight to see him drinking, less so to see him slurring through his words as he orders another one. His head hung low, leaning on the bar on his elbow, his eyes barely opening, a blinding headache obstructing his vision and line of thoughts. Possibly why he was out drinking. 
The bartender gives him a look, obviously sensing that this isn't a common occurrence for the gentleman in front of her, but she obliges. 
“If you wanted to get shit-faced drunk, this ain't the place for it,” She says in quiet contempt as she slides the glass over to him, but wears a smile as she composes herself again.
Spencer already knew that, but this was where his car had taken him, and he really didn't wanna be home. 
Truth was, Spencer hadn't had much to drink, all his symptoms were of withdrawal. 
Insomnia, dilated pupils, nausea, lightheadedness etc etc. he could list a few more. Spencer laughs as all the things he has read about addiction appear like check marks in his brain. None of the papers ever tell how agonizing it is to just exist, how the drug becomes the only thing you need, but the only thing you also don't want. How it feels to want to rip away your own skin, to bash your head against a wall until you feel the familiar pinch of the needle being injected. 
He should have known this would happen. 
When the hours of the night felt too long he thought of driving away, maybe his home was the problem. It reminded him too much of that night. Even in the car he felt like he needed to be out, his thoughts immediately thinking where he could get a dose, how he needed to buy another empty injection, he's used the other one more than twice. He should have known it was his own brain, the one thing he can never escape, it's always been too ahead of him, too fast.
He should have known the need would not go away just because he's away, the goosebumps, the torture would not stop, that he would need something to satiate himself. Even the warnings of driving while under the influence wasn't enough to stop him. 
So here he was, barely aware of where he was walking in, sitting on a chair, his head down, pressed to the wooden table. It's his second drink (that he isn't even halfway through), but sleep hasn't greeted him.
Spencer thinks of things to distract him, entropy, a measure of disorderliness of a system and he wonders how much he would measure on that scale. The world is leaning towards entropy every day, and maybe his callousness today has contributed to that metric, however illogical that thought might be.
It's when he feels the air surrounding him change when he thinks of gravity. Gravity isn't a force, according to Einstein, something people always find fascinating when he randomly rambles about it. It's a “force” caused by the curvature in space time, this is where he loses most people, often ending with someone stopping him as he tries to explain what is a space time continuum.
He lifts his head to see a blurry figure, his eyes adjusting to the light. He'd been sitting in a corner so as to not be noticed, so he's sure his company knows they're not welcome. 
But he's suddenly unsure about his previous claim when he sees you, your head looking at him sideways, chin resting on your shoulder, your body turned towards the bar. You have a curious look on your face, but if he's being honest, it's more amused than concerned.
“Tough night?” You ask, averting your head towards the bar as the bartender comes over to ask your order, a smirk on her face as if she knows something he doesn't. 
“What's your poison?” You ask again as you hand tell the bartender your order quietly enough that he can't make it out.
Spencer doesn't bother to answer, his brain too foggy to be polite, his tongue too heavy to retort.
“Oh, c’mon, talk to me. I'm bored.”
You say again, the amusement laced through every word which makes him more annoyed. 
“Please.” He mutters, not feeling the need to clarify his request, he has no interest in putting up an act with a stranger, it's hard enough to socialise when he's sober, this is hell.
You don't budge, though he feels the glass he's been clutching lightly being taken from his hands. That catches his attention.
He sits up, head still heavy as his eyes squint to let his pupils contract, light dilates your pupils to let as much light as it can into your eyes when there's darkness, a fact running through his brain, a common occurrence.
The glass is returned to his hand, well, another glass but it holds a clear liquid. He takes a sip and grimaces, it's water. 
Drink the water, alcohol dehydrates you-
He pushes the water away, not keen on listening to himself anymore.
“What's your problem with water?” The stranger asks again, and he hates it. Her voice is nice, too nice for his self- destructive mind right now, and he wants her gone.
“What's your problem in general?” He snaps as he takes the water and gulps it down and extends it again for a refill. He's not very aware of his decisions tonight.
From his periphery, he thinks he sees you smirk, taking a bite out of the cherry in your drink, hiding it as much as you can. He can't tell why the action seems familiar, but it is. 
The bartender and you share a look as she takes the shorter whiskey glass and exchanges it with a tall glass of water, and leaves to attend to the other customers.
He thinks of starting a conversation, but he glances at you again and hides another frown. You were pretty, he thinks, and he hides a frown. The day I choose to wallow in my sadness. 
“I didn't know they let pretty people in here.” You speak again, addressing him directly as you drink from a straw. He notices the drink to be magenta, too similar to cranberry juice. She's not drinking, he notes.
He frowns at your comment, genuinely confused, for two reasons. Firstly, he looks like hell, he knows that. Eyes bagged into his sockets, his clothes unwashed for days. And secondly,
“How would you be here then?” He asks, his head tilted in confusion.
You're caught off guard, though he can't seem to figure out why. 
There's no hint of teasing, or amusement in his question, and it feels like a stab in the gut (in the best way possible) when you realise it,
“I can't figure out whether or not you're flirting or you just genuinely asked me that. And I don't know which would be better for my mental health.”
He's confused again, “How would my flirting affect your mental health?” He asks and he hears a laugh. 
Again, it's a nice sound and he hates it. He hates that it's nice.
“Oh, you're adorable.” You say, your hand reaching up to remove a piece of hair hanging over his eyes. He doesn't move away, he usually would, but his actions are a bit delayed and before he can register it, you're getting up and leaving.
He discovers he's disappointed, which surprises him. He hadn't spoken much to you, maybe that's why. Or maybe he liked nice, even in the midst of his self loathing spiral.
He's turning away to call to the bartender again, to bring him a glass of- who knows what. 
He might know all about alcohol, how they're made, their advantages, and disadvantages but he doesn't have much experience with many of them. Nor is he familiar with any of the names. What even is there in a Daiquiri?
But he feels that same dip in his space again, space time continuum, and he looks to see you there again, holding now what looks to just be an orange liquid in a martini glass.
“First cranberry, now orange. You do know you're in a bar?” He retorts with too much sass than he would usually, but he sensed you welcome the spar.
“What am I supposed to do? Take body shots off of you or drown myself in my own misery?” You say casually and it makes him want to laugh a little.
“Not off of me.” He mumbles, taking another sip of his lukewarm water, though he didn't complain. He can hear Morgan say, “Oh, you've got jokes now?”
“Too many germs?” He only nods and continues drinking his water when he jumps at a sudden loud sipping noise, he sees the orange liquid coming to an end in your glass as you sip loudly through the straw. 
He composes himself and answers properly, some semblance of manners peeking through,
“Not particularly off of me. Buy you shouldn't do that off of anybody. Did you know kissing is more sanitary than handshakes?”
He asks and you have that incredulous look again, followed by an amused one,
“I can't tell again. If you're just talking or flirting.”
He frowns, “No, well- I just told you something factual.” Another sip.
You laugh again and he leans in slightly, not consciously, trying to get closer to the sound. 
“You're a rare breed, Mr….” The sentence hangs as a question, you're asking his name. 
He's suddenly aware again of his surroundings. He's at an unknown place, and if he's a good profiler he knows this isn't an honest bar. Not that the neighborhood was known for its safety. 
He stays quiet but you quickly say, “That's alright. You don't tell me, I don't tell you.”
The bartender is back again, now pouring a yellow liquid into your martini glass and he must not have realised he was looking so intently because the bartender raises her eyebrows at him, as if asking if he wants some too. He nods, quite shyly, and brings his glass forward. 
He takes a sip, mango.
“But you shouldn't come in here with that gun so,” you gesture, “up front in here. You're an outsider, and you look like hell. No offense.”
He glances down at his holster and sees the gun, and thinks back to when Penelope had said,
“It's like they gave Bambi a gun. Said with love, of course.”
He knew it was said with love, but the feeling felt more pronounced as you gave your warnings.
“They don't like cops here?” he asks, fully aware he would never actually introduce himself as one, but he thought the title to be hidden enough for the place he was in. 
“So he reveals his profession, I wonder what’s next…” another exaggerated sip, this time he laughs, getting familiar with the strangers’ antics. 
He thinks back to why he's here in the first place as his conscious mind slowly comes back. Spencer had felt the urge again, he was angry at himself. Genius with an eidetic memory, and a few molecules of a  carbon compound take over him. He threw the vial on the couch, still too afraid to break the bottle, and stormed out of the house. It was as if he knew he should come here, the bar was not on his way to work, or on his usual roads. But he was still here, and he felt too comfortable for this to be his first time here. 
He retches over nothing and immediately sees a bucket being handed to him, and the feeling of mortification washes over him.
“I've been here before, haven't I?” He asks before retching into the bucket again, throwing up the mango juice he had just drank. More shame and guilt accompany his embarrassment but his head hurts too much for him to get up.
“It's good you chose the corner,” he only now registers your hand on his shoulder, rubbing circles to provide comfort, and it is comforting. 
“We've met before, yesterday?” he asks again, and she smiles.
“It's alright. It was a short visit. I only asked you your name and you well… you don't need to know. We went to the nearby park. I got you an uber home.” she laughs and this time he does say it,
“It's nice. Your laugh. You have a nice laugh.” his head is hung low, thinking over his circumstances. 
He didn't see your reaction, but he wasn't too eager to know anyway. 
You were pretty, he was too aware of that, he likes your laugh and the first two times you've met him, he was once too out of it, and the second time he threw up. Great. 
“I'm really sorry to inconvenience you, I didn't mean to bother you. I'm sorry-”
“No, no- thats alright. Its good to have some entertainment. I just feel bored here.”
This time he laughs, “Me throwing up is entertainment for you?”
“Tch. you really are bad at this  flirting thing.” Her lips curl into a smile, and he returns the gesture as much as he can. 
Spencer excuses himself to the washroom to clean up, and god it is not a sight to see.
He thinks back to your previous comment, didnt know they let pretty people in here.
They do let them in, but that wouldnt be a problem for him today. He washes his face, another wave of nausea passing through and he tries to think of things that would distract him.
Space time continuum, more commonly known as space-time, the mathematical model where three dimensions of space and one dimension of time fuse together to make a four dimensional model. Large masses, like earth bend space time, “gravity” is felt strongest when spacetime is curved the most. There's no force of gravity, matter tells spacetime how to curve, and curved space time leads matter to an end point. 
Two people could walk the same distance in parallel lines with no intention of ever seeing each other, to just follow a straight path, but the curved space time will cause their meet. It's inevitable. 
You sit cross legged, well- your ankle resting on the other thigh as you scribble away on a lone piece of paper, and Spencer recognises it as a crossword as he takes the seat next to you. You're not at the bar anymore, you've moved to a booth. He had come by to say good-bye, but he couldn't help but comment,
“adjudge, across 10 will be deem.” He says and for the first time, he sees a questionable look, you don't say anything and just hand the puzzle back to him and say,
“I'll time you.”
Spencer wasn't one to boast about his intelligence, but at the moment, he felt like the cockiest bastard in town. 
Halfway through the puzzle, his mind coming up with answers faster than he can write them, he hears a quiet ‘what the fuck’ being muttered right next to him and he chuckles. He pushes his pen down hard enough to make a sound against the wooden table as he finishes the last word and slides the paper to you.
The look on your face is laughable, so he does laugh, after god knows how long. 
You take the paper and check it over and after a few minutes you look over at him again and he's laughing again. 
“What the fuck?” you ask, but you don't give him time to answer through his giggles,”Dude, it's been like 7 minutes. that one took me 25 minutes.” You look back at the paper again, as if that would quest your curiosity, “and I thought I was fast.” You lean back, your mouth still open in surprise. 
“25 minutes isn't bad, pretty quick for this puzzle. Don't judge yourself by my standard, I have an eidetic memory. Sorry.” 
“No, no. Never be sorry for being too smart. Atleast you're not a dick about it.” You thank the bartender as she gives you yet another drink, this time it's pink. 
“I’d say what I just did was a dick move, I was flaunting.” He reasons as he observes your drink for a second,
“No, what you did was cool. As annoyed as I am about it.” You defend him, and take a look at your watch.
“People are usually just annoyed. I haven't been described as cool by many people,” he takes a pause, “actually by no one.” Spencer notices your actions and senses some suspicion, but he shakes it off. You must have ordered again when he wasn't paying attention.
“I'd beg to differ,” you take a sip of your drink and say, “I have more if you have time…” The end of the sentence was meant as a question and Spencer nodded his head. He has three weeks worth of personal time. All he has now is time. you rummage through your bag for more unfinished crossword puzzles. Most of them are 90% done, just two or three empty spaces. 
“Chemist lab equipment, 10 words. That's easy, you can do that.” He points out,
“I've tried!! I literally can't figure it out. The only clue I have is that there's an e in it. A vowel.”
“Think about it.” He pushes.
“I asked for your help.” You complain but he still doesn't relent,
“I am helping!” He snaps back but quickly says, “Alright, I'll give you a clue, it starts with a C.”
Your head tilts as you go into deep thought and Spencer suppresses a chuckle when he sees recognition pass over your face,
“Centrifuge?” You ask tentatively,
“YES!” He claps his hand and you both laugh again and this goes on for a while. 
You ask him answers to empty crossword clues and he gives you a few more hints to get it right. There were some that even he couldn't figure out quickly, which were met with teasing from your end. He welcomed it, he was used to friendly teasing, he worked with Morgan for god's sake. A significant amount of time must have passed because you glanced at the clock again and this time, the same cranberry drink was in your hands and he couldn't help but ask,
“Why are you drinking so many juices?”
“We’re in a bar, genius. You're the weird one who's not drinking.” 
“I was drinking. You stopped me.” You did stop him. And you didn't once ask him what was going on with him. No concerned questions, no I can help you. 
���No, you were drowning in your misery.” And as if you could read his mind, “And I don't think you'd appreciate alcohol addiction too.” 
Too. 
Spencer couldn't understand why you weren't telling him that he should stop, that what he's doing is wrong, why you weren't warning him or shaming him but you speak up again,
“I assume you came here for a reprieve. I don't need to know the specifics to figure it out. Though you shouldn't use alcohol for your reprieves. Not a good alternative.” 
You shake your head in mock disappointment, and take another exaggerated sip. Spencer notes that you do that whenever you're worried you won't get a response, as a way to fill the silence. Profiler.
“What do you suggest? Juice?” He asks, gesturing to your glass and you laugh again, and he again thinks it's nice. But this time he doesn't say it out loud.
“So, what other things are you annoyingly good at?” You ask and he lists out too many things in his head, things people tell him he's the expert at. He doesn't agree with them all the time, but there is one thing he knows he's good at. 
“Chess” He answers.
You chuckle, “Figures.” You think this is probably the fifth time he's missed the cue of flirting but then you rethink how this is probably how he flirts, or just talks. Genuine earnestness. No twisted words to mask his intentions and a strange warmth fills your chest.
Maybe a little company for a while everyday won't hurt.
“So, same time tomorrow?” You ask as you gather your things above the table and put them in your bag and he's startled by the question to answer it immediately. But he registers it and says,
“Uhh, for what? Chess?” 
“Yes. You're gonna teach me. Because right now, I have to go.” You say hurriedly and pat his cheek before leaving and he thinks of all the things he had to say 
I don't know if I'll be here tomorrow.
Where would we find a chess set?
What if he's too out of it to make it here?
What should he wear? 
He doesn't even know what time it was.
What's your name?
How would I find you?
Gravity, Spencer thinks.
All those questions are unanswered as you become impossible to find in the nearly empty bar, but he thinks
I'll ask later. 
Same time, tomorrow.
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honey-tongued-devil · 1 day ago
Text
I’m not posting, just venting, because I’m honestly tired of pretending that drawings and fanfictions aren’t created by people but are somehow generated by God.
Every single time, in every fandom, I come across the same complaints for at least three male characters: “There’s too much content with girls, where’s the content with men??” Go make it yourself.
No, seriously, I’m done staying silent and ignoring you. Just make it yourselves.
I’m a hyper-feminine lesbian, and I write everything neutral because I’m happy when as many people as possible can relate. This means that every morning, I wake up, turn on my damn computer, and spend at least four hours hunched over writing, and another four hunched over drawing. If you want more content with fewer female readers, self-inserts, or OCs, then instead of whining and bothering us, make it yourself.
I learned to draw because the content I wanted didn’t exist, and I learned to write—in a language that isn’t even my own—so I could create content that satisfied me.
“But I don’t know how to do it.” Then learn. I didn’t know how either.
Every time I see “There’s too much content with girls” about fan-made, free content, I get this insane urge to say, “You know what? Fine. From now on, I’ll write everything for hyper-fem AFAB girlypop readers, since instead of having a constructive hobby, your hobby is shitting on people who make content for themselves and, out of divine charity, decide to share it with the world.”
You want me to write Silco x male reader stuff (not you, sweetheart, who asked nicely—I love you, I swear I’m not talking about you)? Then pay me. You want me to draw Silco with a man? Starting price: €90, payment via PayPal.
If you want to make demands about what artists should create, you’d better have your wallet ready and commission them instead of breaking our backs because apparently, women care more than you do about creating content.
Either commission or spend less time writing borderline misogynistic rants on social media and start producing content yourselves.
Love,
-A "girl" who makes free content for herself and writes and draws more than everyone who’s complaining.
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rimqueen · 24 hours ago
Note
sweetpea… please write jimmy leaving his girlfriend to overdose at curly’s place like you said 😭
tw for overdose, cocaine, drug use, shitty bf jimmy, blood, death and shitty writing
“Hiii, Curly.” You’re clutching onto his doorframe, blinking at him rapidly, one of your false lashes is MIA.
Jimmy is close behind, smiling too hard for it to actually be Jimmy. Jesus. It’s a little scary. Like he’s wearing someone else’s face, the skin stretched thinly over his bones is looking worn. He shoulders past Curly and makes himself comfortable on the couch he has called home so many times.
“Woah, okay—Hey, hey, Jim.” Curly catches you when you stumble, clammy hands on his chest to steady yourself. “What’s all this about?” He’s too old for this. Too old to think Jimmy is cool for snorting crack off public bathroom counters, too old to be anything but worried.
“Nothin’, man.” Jimmy waves a dismissive hand his way. “She just overdid it, your place is closer than mine.”
You blink up at Curly with a dopey smile as he sets you down beside your boyfriend. “You’re sooo nice, Curly,” you slur, tucking your legs beneath you, it takes a few attempts but you make it there. “Just the best, like, so nice, you know any girl would be lucky to have you.”
Good ol’ reliable Curly. Got a big ol’ shoulder to lean on. Big ass back to stab. Curly who cannot keep him at arms length.
So he sits down like a dumbass and chaperones the two of you as Jimmy, loyalty card in hand, cuts up another few lines on the coffee table. Curly opts out, mumbling about blocked sinuses and a short nasal passage. He takes a dollar bill from your purse and rolls it up, dexterous fingers that only get put to use for one thing in particular. Jimmy snorts it, tips his head back, thumbing the edge of his nose, his smile crooked and lazy when he passes the bill over to you.
You do the same.
Snort it, tip your head back, sniffle, wipe your nose.
Your head doesn’t fall back into place. You stay like that for one second, two seconds, three seconds, four, five—
Foam dribbles down your chin, and your body jerks backwards until you are sprawled on the floor lifelessly like a discarded mannequin.
“Holy shit.” Curly jumps to his feet, floundering, breathing just as hard as you are trying to breathe. “Holy shit, Jim. Holy shit, she’s fucking—Jesus Christ.”
“Fuck, shut up, Curly, I know, I know—I’ve got this,” says Jimmy, who has not got this, who has not got fucking anything at all, like, ever. So why would he have this? “C’mon, baby.” He smacks you hard, somehow managing to look unfazed and completely unhinged. “Don’t die on me, I’ll fucking kill you, you… Fucking shit, shit, shit.”
There is so much blood seeping into Curly’s new shag rug. He is going to pass it off as wine when his mother visits. You’re twisting and choking and kicking your legs, putting up a nasty fight and nobody has bothered to call a fucking ambulance, nobody wants to deal with the fucking consequences. There is a girl overdosing in his lounge and Jimmy is going to go back to jail and—
“Where are you going?” Curly asks, horrified as you fit on the ground while your boyfriend pulls on his jacket. “Jim, where are you going, are you fucking serious?”
“I can’t—“ Jimmy motions with his hand at you, at himself. “I can’t fucking go back there, man, shit, not for this, not for her.”
You’re not worth it, not worth hospital bills and phone calls and court dates.
So they let it happen.
Jimmy helps you ride it out, kissing your face and cupping your tit like it is going to do anything at all.
And when you go cold, he rolls you up in Curly’s shag rug to keep you warm, it’s a two-man job, lifting all this dead weight, but Jimmy does it all on his own while Curly sits there jittering.
“There’s a creek nearby,” Curly tells him, white-knuckling the arm of the sofa.
“How about that job you were talking about?” Jimmy murmurs soberly.
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madamechrissy · 7 hours ago
Text
Cursed Promises
Pairings: Sukuna x Fem reader
CW: This chap, Sukuna fks reader with both his cocks in both holes ahem, (yayyy) lots of use of all his tongues and mouths OF COURSE, public sex, cockwarming, Sukuna calls you little bunny and slutty etc, soft Sukuna, he's falling in LOVE but is stubborn lol true form Sukuna, smacking (pussy, titties, ass, face- all of it lmao) THIS CHAP IS ALMOST ALL SMUT and fluff w/a little angst at the beginning
Summary: You have been promised to Ryomen Sukuna, King of curses, for as long as you've been alive, ostracized from your village, 'special'. Now you are to marry him, sight unseen. People everywhere fear him, but will you find yourself intrigued by him. Just who is the King of Curses to his new wife? Arranged marriage au
A/N: This is ALL fluff and SMUT lol, Four Parts (this is the final one) you're not gonna get much plot, I really wanted them being cute!? don't ask.- also I suck at writing powers, so sorry if I fk anything up that's canon lol! - WC this chap- 7.9k
Comments/ reblogs appreciated if you like this silly stuff, ty for all the love on these little parts they make me so happy❤️
<<<part three
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Part Four- Final Part
Two weeks later
Why have you fallen in love with such an ass?
You had asked this question to yourself many times, finally Sukuna was back home, but you refused to go see him, hiding in your room instead. Sukuna had summoned you to dine with him, but you simply locked yourself in, fiddling with the brilliant necklace, the only thing he’d left aside from his infuriating note, watching how the candlelights reflect the facets of the gems.
Knock knock knock.
“I’m not coming, Uraume.” You say, knowing their knock now.
“The King is demanding you come, you must obey.”
“Then he can drag me out.” You hear their footsteps softly padding along the corridors, echoing in the halls.
You wanted to see him, you were dying to see him, but you were far, far too angry, too hurt right now to face him. The past couple of weeks of loneliness, of curling up in his throne and inhaling the scent he left, of being just pathetic over him, over everything he had said. He acted as if he could make you not love him, but that was completely impossible.
You fell for him, for the King of curses, who you have been promised to, the one that your powers are the antithesis of. The being so intimidating to all, but you knew what it was to have his arms around you, what it was to sit on his lap in the throne room like his Queen, which you were. You know what it was to be kissed so thoroughly, the little intimate moments he tries to brush off.
You’re in love with him, and you can’t face him.
Suddenly your door is being banged on, you tense just a bit, jumping now, breath coming in small pants when you hear his booming voice. “I’ll blast this door off the fucking hinges if you don’t come out, wife.”
You huff, scowling as your slippered feet gently pad across the cold marble floor below you, hand shaking as you touch the brass knob, you’re terrified you’ll fold once you face him. You have no willpower, he could just look at you and you’ll open for him, so pathetically, but you’re so angry with him too, you’re conflicted as you pause, knowing he’s right on the side of the door.
“I don’t want to see you.” You choke out then, hiding a sob and failing, Sukuna smacks the door again, making it vibrate.
“Open now, brat. I swear I’ll destroy your entire wing right now.”
“Why? You don’t even like me.”
“Psh, you insolent-”
“Go away, your Majesty.” You can practically hear him seething, feeling his energy so strongly then.
“You open this door now and eat. I command you as your fucking King and husband.”
“Ugh! Fine.” You open the door then, tears glimmering unshed in your eyes, Sukuna sees it then, the hurt on your face, the face he couldn’t get out of his head for weeks. Eyes that haunted him as much as they annoy the shit out of him.
“Do not dare cry.” He orders, you stand straight up then, fists clenched at your sides.
“Your audacity knows no bounds, you cannot constantly command me not to do things, to feel things. If it is so terrible just leave me be, you’ve more than had your chances to make an heir I’m sure. We’ll see if it takes.” Sukuna slams the door open when you try to shut it, walking in now, step by step.
“When were your monthlies?” He asks, you blink then, shaking your head as you try to think.
“I am due this week, so we will know soon if you must lay with me again.”
All four of his ruby eyes glare now. “If I must!?”
“Indeed. I’ll inform you, now… if you please-”
“Fuck that.” Sukuna shuts your door, turning and pressing you against it now, intimidating as his arms bar you, two on either side of your head, two cupping your face. “As if you don’t desire me.”
“I do, but I will not be hurt and dismissed like I’m some stupid child.”
“You basically are to me.”
“Then go. Concubines must miss you- ah!” Sukuna’s slammed his lips on yours now, melting you completely, you’re clinging to him so desperate as he lifts you like you are nothing, you’re just fucking dangling as he holds you so high, lips already swelling from his kisses.
“I am here, I want you, got it brat?” Sukuna speaks through his teeth, two hands gripping your ass rough over your robes. “I need you.”
“Need me?” Your brain short circuits, he’s kissing you desperate, it is needy how he’s all over you, you’re trembling, thighs shaking around his thick waist, tasting the sweet wine on his tongue as it devours your mouth.
“Need to be inside you, fuck I’ve missed it.” You gasp as he parts your robes with two hands while the other two press you against the door, his tongue on his bare abdomen lapping at your bare pussy, you’re whimpering at it, clit throbbing. “Missed your taste, gods.”
“Kuna… you’re…” His thick, long tongue is lapping at you, his lips back on yours again, you’re clinging to his bare shoulders, long nails are pressing against his skin, you’re shaking when he’s lapping at you, over and over, eyes rolling back.
“Need my cocks inside you, bunny. Waited too long.” He huffs, carrying you to the bed now, undoing his robes, you stop him, shaking your head and closing your thighs, earning his glare. “Excuse me, brat?” He shoves them open, only for you to close them once more, glaring right back.
“You left me with a stupid note and some necklace, as if that’ll make anything better! Don’t, I can’t think straight when you touch me.” You whimper those words, he’s cupping your face, red eyes dilated, lips hungry as he lays naked over you.
“I’ll buy you more things, anything, have you dripping with every gem in the fucking country, hmm?”
“No, Kuna. No. You didn’t have to love me back, but to leave me like that? To write your stupid note!? No!” You shove at him, tears falling from your eyes, your body and soul ache for him, but your heart is hurting, as you look at his face in the night, the lights casting shadows on all the hard planes of his face.
“You are stupid to think you do, have you not come to your goddamn senses? Why can’t you just enjoy it… enjoy this.” He’s slathering kisses down your ribcage, your tummy, nipping at your flesh with sharp teeth, his long black nails pressing into your skin, making you soaking wet with every stroke of his hand, of his tongues darting out from all his damn hands.
“If you’re… so… mmm… horny then go… to them- ah!” Sukuna slaps your cheek then, you slap him right back, then you’re devouring each other again, it’s insanity, you’re biting the King of Curses lip so hard you draw blood.
“I don’t want anyone but you, annoying pest.” He grips your chin then, kissing you with the blood all over his mouth, you whine into his lips now, hips arching.
“Why?” You whisper, he sighs, shaking his head. “Why? If you do not answer you will not lay with me.”
“You’re commanding me!?” He leans up on his arms, looming over you, and you’re nodding, watching his ruby eyes narrow. “I cannot explain why I only want a stupid bunny like you, but I do.”
“Is it because you care? At all?” He leans off you then, groaning and running a big hand through his pastel hair.
“I cannot fathom how I’ve come to have such an annoying, insolent girl. Perhaps I should lay with them, if you say so.”
“Go then!” You stand, shoving at the big luk of a damn man, he’s like steel under your palms, his jaw set.
“You want me to?”
“No!” You’re sobbing then, and he’s shaking his head, studying you, hating that you drive him to insanity, hating that all he wants is this brat who smacks him, who bites at him, how can he handle this? You’re making him so fucking crazy, he just wants you screaming in pleasure, not this. “But you should, if you don’t care.”
“I do care, foolish brat.” You shake your head even as he cups your face once more, thumbs brushing under your jaw line, feeling your fluttering pulse point. “Fragile little human, I’ve let you go on too much.”
“You keep trying to scare me away, it won’t work, all you’re doing is hurting me instead, hurting us.” You let him wrap his enormous fingers around your throat, he does it gently, hand shaking, losing his composure.
“What can I do to make you smile again?” He whispers, releasing your throat, thumb brushing your lower lip.
“Let me express myself without doubting me, without making fun of me for it. I know my own heart, you cannot tell me what to feel.” He curses then, looking up at the ceiling, despising the way he wants to make you happy, please you.
You’ve become everything he can think of and he despises that too.
“Must you say the nonsense?” He murmurs, and you smile just a bit, stepping closer, how insane are you, to have the King of Curses hand around your throat and not even flinch? No, you smile instead.
“I won’t constantly say it, but you needed to know how I felt. What if I never saw you again?” The guilt eats at him now, picturing you, the staff has said you’ve barely left the room, that you’ve barely eaten, he even sees your cheeks more hollow, your waist smaller under his touch, infuriating him further.
“I hear you’re refusing food, how are you to make an heir if you waste away?” He says terself, grabbing you tightly now by the waist.
“I was depressed, I cannot eat when I’m depressed.” You whisper.
“So you’ll eat now, even if I have to force food down your throat, got it?” Come to dinner with me.”
“What, you’ll feed me like some baby?”
“You are a dumb little baby. Now.” You stomp after him, tying your robes as he does, you sit far away from him, across the giant table, further infuriating him as you chew your meal.
“Happy, King?” You ask, sipping your water now, Sukuna scoffs, standing up and walking to you.
“Am I happy that my bride is the most petulant brat? No.” You smack at his hands when he starts trying to shove fork fulls in your mouth. “Stop it this instant.”
“I don’t need you to feed me, I need you… I need…” You shake your head, standing and turning, earning him yanking your back against his chest, two arms wrapping you now. “S-stop…”
“You’re aching for me, bet your cunt is soaked. Why fight this, you stubborn girl?” You gasp in pleasure as he cups you between your thighs, feeling your heat against his fingers. “You know you want me inside your slutty cunt.”
“I want you to not be an ass. Ngh!” Sukuna has you bent over the table now, one hand pinning your wrists as the other lifts your robes, your thighs tremble when he sinks two long fingers, curling them just so, you’re weakly whining out and dripping down his hand and wrist, head pressing against the tablecloth. “Mmm…”
“You want me to fill you, don’t you?”
“W-want you… not so fucking… mean.”
He laughs, leaning over you now, but his eyes catch yours, and something takes his breath away, making him gulp now. “Fine, say your stupid sentence if it makes you stop those tears. I only want you moaning.”
“You won’t g-get mad again?” You whisper, he shakes his head, continuing to move his fingers up and down inside your slick little hole, aching for his huge cocks so badly you can’t think.
“Just get it over with, bunny.”
“Love you.” He moans now, kissing you deeply, your words hit him so hard his usually steady hands tremble, he hates those stupid words, from your perfect lips, but he hates you sad much more. You exhale, sniffling, when he stands, turning you and picking you up, holding you tightly.
“Annoying.” Is all he manages, gulping then, you sigh, clinging around his neck now, kissing him softer, so soft he feels too much. “I need to be inside you, do not make your King beg.”
“Would it be so bad, you begging for once?” You whisper, he exhales, sitting you on the table, between your spread thighs, two hands shoving them apart while two fondle your breasts over your robes.
“You think I’ll beg? I’m a King.” You hum softly, trailing your hands down his hard body, finding one of his cocks under his robe, stroking then, catching his eyes as you feel his hard length, you watch his lip part, lashes lowering.
“Maybe you will beg for me. Beg to be inside me again?” You bring his tip against your soppy cunt, he grips you tightly, but you shove him back, smiling.
“You’ll not tease me.” He pulls you against him, but you shake your head, back to stroking him instead, he moans out, resting his head against yours. “You want me just as bad as I do, stop pretending.”
“You alright, Kuna?” You whisper now, teasing your clit with one of his leaky tips, he tries to pull you again but your free hand stops him. “What do we say when we want something?”
“I am so not fucking begging.”
“Hmm. Good night then.” You let go of him, hopping off the table, he scoffs, yanking you by your wrist now, yanking you back, leaning over you, he is intimidating.
“Your pretty pussy is aching, isn’t it?”
“Pretty?” You whisper.
“All of you is. Pretty and irritating.” He kisses you deeper, you feel it then, how much of himself he’s putting to you, and you want to cave so badly.
“Then why don’t you beg to come to my bed?” 
“Tch, no… you beg for me to fill you.” You’re whining out as his tongue slips against your clit again, your eyes roll back. “So stubborn, clit is twitching, pussy is drooling.”
“Sh-shut up.” Sukuna smirks though, carrying you up the stairs now, so quickly he has you there before you can blink, you get dizzy when he’s got you back laid on his bed, moaning when he parts your robes and gazes.
“This is where you belong, in my bed naked, constantly.” He huffs, watching as your hair splays out, your purple robes under you, you look so fucking pretty he can’t stand you, how bad his cocks hurt, the precum oozing out of his tips, decorating your inner thighs with white droplets,be spreads them across your skin.
“You need to apologize.”
“What!? Absolutely not.”
“Then we will just lay here.” Sukuna is infuriated now, shoving up off the bed to stare at you, as if you've grown four arms yourself.
“What do you want from me, woman?”
“To apologize for being a dick, leaving without saying goodbye.” He sighs and clenches his teeth.
“Cease that eye watering nonsense. Will you smile if I say it then?” You nod. “Fine, I'm sorry that I did not say farewell, and for… for finding your words foolish.” You stroke his face then, thumbs brushing over the sharp jut of a cheekbone.
“Thank you, Kuna. I missed you.” You whisper softly, you feel the warmth spread through your body, find yourself falling deeper and deeper.
“Your body missed me too, didn't it?”
“Did yours?” Your hand goes to his bare chest, where his heart thuds faster under your touch. He gulps, nodding just a bit, an imperceptible movement that anyone else might miss, but it emboldens you then. “Then lay on your back, my King.”
“Me on my back?” You can tell then, he hasn't done it, let someone have control. You stroke down his chest, his abdomen, trailing his tattoos.
“I'll make you feel very good, husband.” He does as you command, laying on his back, two hands behind his head as the other two find purchase in your hair while you're kissing down his throat, his chest, tasting the salt of his sweat when your tongue darts across a flat nipple.
“You’re an annoying pest.” He grumbles, you smile against him as your lips trail even lower, kissing along the black lines that slide across him, while your fingers set to tug and expose his cocks fully, earning his groan. “Stop teasing me.”
“Why can’t I? You certainly do enough, hmm?” You’re kissing the tips of him now, tongue flicking across the little slits that keep pumping white, inhaling his musky scent as you go.
“M’gonna shove them both in your insolent mouth at once.” He grumbles, but he doesn’t, he watches you with four dilated eyes, the lower ones so lidded they’re just slits that are glimmering in the soft candlelight of his room, which casts shadows across the wall so lewd, your head bobbing on one of his cocks now. “F-fuck…”
You enjoy sucking him, you’ve had much practice in a short time, enjoy the way his lips part, the way his muscles tense, how his hips buck up and jerk. You brace yourself with one hand on the bed, the other stroking his lower cock, his huge, muscled frame trembling under your caresses, his moans urging you.
“Take it deeper, brat, hmm? Can you?” He’s taunting you, but his voice is breathy, you feel him losing his control when his hands yank on your hair, and you take his cock deep in your throat, swallowing and moaning around it, making it vibrate. “Fuck! Need to be inside you, now.”
You pull back, cheeks hollowing, lips smacking and leaving trails of saliva like little glittery strings when you kitten lick his tip again. “Not yet, Kuna-ah!”
Sukuna uses his lower arms to drag you up now, holding you damn near suspended in the fucking air, you’re panicking as he’s chuckling. “Oh you little brat, you really think I can’t do anything I want to you?”
“Put me d-down this instant!” He’s chuckling at you, ass of a man, before he starts dragging your hips to slide across his cocks, between your soppy slit, you’re coating every inch of him, tears falling at how good it feels.
“You’re gonna get filled all night, bunny.” He slams you down on one of his cocks then, you’re screaming at the stretch, cunt throbbing around him, he hisses. “Loosen up, now.”
“C-can’t, m’gonna…” You’re getting eased off his cock again, then yanked back on the other, as his tongue from his stomach slathers your clit, you’re nearly sent over the edge, head falling back, hair falling like a curtain down it. “Ngh!”
“Wanna fill both your slutty holes.” He huffs, one of his tips pressing against your little puckered hole now, he chuckles at your expression. “Not yet, you’re too much of a frightened little prey.”
“M’not, ah- close, close… please…” You whine now, he’s just teasing you with his tips again, one slipping in your other hole, it feels so good you can’t take it, especially when his tongue is lapping at you again, two hands squishing your breasts.
“That’s it, cum all over me, now bunny.” He huffs, looking at you as you fall apart over him, you’re shattering while your cum is pouring all over, making a slick mess, body twitching when he sinks you back fully on one again. “There she goes, she loves being filled by her king, huh?”
“Yes, yes!” You’re over pretending to have control, just clinging to him as he fucks up into you, faster and harder, thrusts jostling you so much your damn teeth click, your pussy is pulsating all around him, your arousal pooling at the base of one cock, while he pummels into you.
“Perfect pussy, s’mine, hmm? Made f’me, made to take me.” You’re whimpering your answer, pathetically, and Sukuna’s thrusts falter, he leans up, kissing your lips, making you fall even deeper, as you struggle to stay on this plane of existence whatsoever, it’s like you’re floating and falling into the abyss that’s him.
“Mhm.” You manage, but it’s enough to urge him, to make his cock pulse for you, leaking against your cervix.
 “Gonna take this seed, fill your womb with my heir.”
“Please, please Kuna. Want it, w-want it.” He moans then, sloppy kisses between you both, as your cunt milks his cock for every spurt of cum that starts shooting up inside you.
“Feel m-me?” He’s exhaling, his voice a whisper, he can barely handle how good your cunt feels around him, how she’s gripping him, your eyes roll back in your skull, your mouth open, breasts arched against him when he stuffs you so full. He feels your cervix as he keeps pumping more and more cum. “Asked you a question, brat.”
His gentle smack on your face only makes you cum harder, he groans then, smacking your ass, your tits, little gentle thwacks that prolong you, while his cock stays buried. You’re a trembling goddamn mess, blinking blackness out of your vision as you struggle to focus on your King, sprawled under you, his eyes locked on every movement of your body and face.
“Kuna…” You whisper, blinking rapidly then, he eases out of you, moaning when he watches the mess pouring out of your hole.
“You’re wasting it again, tch.” You barely register how you are on your back, Sukuna’s long fingers stuffing the cum trickling all over into your sore cunt.
“Too much, mmh!” He laughs then, booming laughter that fills his chambers, easing his fingers out and shoving your thighs up, folding you in half. “Wh-what are you doing, I’m sore… ass of a man- ah!”
Sukuna’s thwap on your cunt stings, as he glares down at you. “I’ve had enough of your mouth running, you missed me filling you, didn’t you? Answer.”
“Y-yes.” You’re shaking when his face is between your thighs, despite all of his tongues, the one on his face was the sexiest when it laps you up, something about your little hands in his hair, his broad shoulders spreading you wide, just did more to you. Like he was worshipping you. “I’m sorry I was so… mad at you… my feelings…”
“Your feelings this and that, tch, you’re so needy aren’t you?” You scowl right back, but his tongue is swiping up your slit now, before he leans up, and your mouth eagerly opens, you swallow both of your tastes, earning his satisfied smirk. “Since you’re so needy, I’ll clean you, get you ready for more, yes?”
“Please, my King.” He is between your thighs again, lapping you up, shoving his tongue inside every bit of you, your cunt is pushing out all of his white ropes, which he greedily drinks. “Kuna!”
“Stupid name.” He huffs, tongue flicking your sensitive clit, he spreads your puffy lips wide, watching the little thing twitch with an amused smirk. “We taste so fucking perfect together, you know that?”
“We do… ah! Sensitive!” He’s grinning, sharp teeth against you as he exposes your clit, flicking his tongue over and over, while two of hands grip your hips, dragging you on his mouth. Your hips try to back off but he doesn’t let them, until you’re cumming all over his face again, which he has buried against you, orgasm wrecking your mind and any resolve you ever had.
“How many loads can you take in this tummy, hmm?” He looks up, face coated in your arousal, one hand pressing on your tummy now.
“As many as you want to give me.” Your words destroy him, to hear them from you? It’s like the dreams he’s been cursed with for weeks.
“Good bunny.” You eat it up, the praise, the way he looks at you when he is back to fucking your now sore pussy, his other cock stroking your clit, making you feel so much, too much, wh. “Good, good bunny. Take it all, greedy f’me aren’t you?”
You do, you take all of him somehow, you can’t figure it out, how she stretches to accommodate his length, his thickness, but she does. Your body is begging for more, your eyes glazed with pleasure, as his cock slams into your womb, filling you so deep you swear he’s fucking up your insides, and your cunt keeps greedily milking him, taking everything he’s got.
Sukuna flips you so suddenly you’re breathless again, climbing on top of you, two slick fingers slipping in your little untouched hole again, while he fucks you with one cock, his other arms wrapping your waist. His breath is against your ear while you’re crying out at the stretch, still pushing out remnants of his cum from earlier, dripping with your cum down his red blankets.
“Ready for me to cum in both your holes?” He murmurs, one hand cupping your face, turning you towards him you nod weakly, craving him, he moans into your mouth, tongues sloppy as they play, and he slips his other cock into that hole now.
“Kuna, too much… too big…” You’re crying out when he enters you, both cocks now, just their tips then a little further.
“Relax, bunny. You’re all mine, aren’t you?” You nod weakly, and it starts feeling so good, when he puts you on your knees, your ass arches for him, which he’s gripping brutally, spreading you wider. “Look at you, both your slutty holes begging for me.”
You can’t speak anymore, already weak from the orgasms, now he’s never even softened you don’t think, his cocks full of blood, when he sinks them further, you’re gripping the blankets, head buried, muffling your cries. He’s fucking both of your holes steadily, not going fully in, he’s maybe a few inches, but it’s so good, you’re so full of Sukuna.
“Feel me everywhere, you’re mine, all of you.” One of his hands entangles in your hair, messy already, as he feels both of your holes clenching him, your cunt is soaking wet, your ass so tight it’s strangling his cock, all while his balls are smacking your clit. “Hear it?”
“Y-yes…” You do hear it, the smacking of skin, the wetness of your cunt, making your ass arching up for more.
“Perfect f’me, fuck I missed you.” You tremble under him now, trying to turn your weak neck to look up at him, and he’s bending over you, big body taking you completely over, sinking deeper and deeper. “Yes, brat, I d-did.”
“Love you, Kuna.” You whisper, instead of yelling at you, he moans, kissing your mouth, a hand choking your throat, taking your oxygen while he takes you over, cocks moving easier and easier.
“Cum all over me, lemme feel it, you can do it hmm, my Queen?” At those words you’re ended, to hear how he professes them, you begin climaxing, ass clenching one cock while your pussy drools over his other, he has to pause, you feel so fucking good all around him.
“Kuna!” Your stupid nickname ruins him, as does how tight you’re gripping him, when he sees your pretty face all fucked out.
“Ready for me to fill you so full you can’t walk or run that mouth?” He huffs, you nod eagerly, and he’s pouring his seed in both your holes, the sensations just prolonging your orgasm. Sukuna’s grip tightens as he cums so hard, his teeth sinking into your shoulder, leaving a bruise, you love it, love the sting, love the way he marks you, the way he feels.
The two of you stay like that for a moment, his cocks still buried deep, your pussy and ass spasming around them, catching your breath now, as is your King. His eyes are closed, his breathing ragged, but his grip on you doesn’t loosen, not one bit, keeping you pinned, keeping you full.
“You’re mine, stupid little bunny.” He whispers, his voice hoarse, his teeth sinking into the back of your shoulder now.
“Yours.” You whisper back, your voice trembling with satisfaction, your heart fluttering at the possessiveness in his tone.
He pulls out slowly, a gush of cum following him, painting your thighs, your holes, all over until it’s a dripping mess, the wet spot under you growing, mixing with your sweat soaked bodies. He turns you, cupping your face and hovering over you, watching your breasts rise and fall, spreading your thighs and smirking at all the cum oozing from your holes.
“You called me… your Queen.” You whisper, and he rolls his eyes.
“Tch, that is what you are? Foolish brat.”
“I enjoyed that.” He smirks now, leaning down to hover over you, studying a face that’s become far too important too fast.
“Did you now?”
“I did. Thank you for… not telling me to stop saying it.” You manage, emotions in your throat, you don’t expect him to ever say it back, and that hurts, but you feel so connected then, in the quiet night under him.
“It’s foolish but I tire of your frown, that upsets me. With annoyance.” He covers up the truth, that your sad face breaks him.
You smile almost knowingly, as if you can read him so well. “My King, may I start the training finally, tomorrow?”
“You’re still set on that, huh?” You nod. “Fine, I’ll do whatever you wish, as long as you…”
“Smile?”
“That.” You do so then, brightening your face, making his stomach flip, he hates that you control him this way, still wondering just what powers or spells you’ve put on him. “Better.”
Soon you’re snuggled up to him after being cleaned up, bare against his naked frame under the heavy covers, Sukuna loves even your little cold hands and cold feet, but he sure wouldn’t be letting you know. “Warm them up, now you pest.”
“We’ve been through this, I need you to do that.” He scoffs, pulling you against his chest, one hand brushing your hair back soothingly, as you yawn. “I missed this, you holding me.”
“Shut it, brat.” You smile as you nuzzle him, and soon you fall asleep, while Sukuna stares up at the ceiling, the one painted with ancient wars, wars he’s participated in, and he doesn’t know how he’ll ever be able to live without you.
How annoying you are.
*****
“Sore, bunny?” Sukuna teases the next day, as you begin training, you glare at him now. “What?”
“You know I am.” You hiss, considering he’d fucked you twice last night, you’re sore in places also you can’t even explain, in ways that make your cheeks heat up while you walk.
“Weak little human.” He taunts, you hold your hands up then, focusing as he’s been showing you for hours. “Gonna do something, bunny?”
You glare when he taunts you, and then gasp as he begins to cleave several trees in half. “Holy…”
“This is why we needed to be outside.” He’s smirking sadistically, so very proud of his powers, you roll your eyes. “Try to stop me, bunny, close your eyes, don’t get distracted.”
You concentrate, feeling your own energy fill you, shutting your eyes, and positioning your hands just so, until you hear a grunt. You open them, realizing you’ve completely locked Sukuna’s arm up, he’s grinning though, nodding at you, and you use the energy to slam him into the ground.
“Fuck…” He’s huffing, you gasp now, running to him, letting your energy fall, only for him to drag you on him, laughing. “You are a witch.”
“A witch?”
“Yes, a witch. Dropping me to my fucking knees, making me stupid for you, haunting my dreams.”
“Your dreams?” You whisper, hair falling to the side, brushing his broad shoulders over his bare chest as he holds you on him, his head on the grass below. Trees are decaying, grass is withering, all from him, but you think it’s beautiful, the destruction he’s brought.
“All of you, endlessly irritating.” You smile then, realizing he cares just as much as you do, though he surely wouldn’t say that.
In his own way, this was it.
“Maybe I am bewitching you, one day you’ll fall in love with me.” He snorts, rolling all four eyes, shocking you when he has you flipped on your back, breathless.
“You wish, brat. Keep dreaming.”
*****
“Sukuna, you cannot leave me again. Please.” You’re pleading two weeks later, as he tells you he must leave for a few days again. “Take me with you, or send your damn armies.”
“A King must stand with them, you have me be a stupid bunny like you?”
“Stupid bunny!?” You use your energy then, crashing everything off the giant table with a clatter, earning his grin.
“You’re sexy when you’re using your flimsy little fucking powers.”
“Oh fuck you!” You stomp off then, but he’s got you in his arms before you can leave, holding you tightly. “Stop it. I’m angry.”
“You’re always angry, bunny really thinks she’s not just prey.” You shove at him now, knocking him back, only making him grin wider.
“Take me with you, please. I can help.” You see it then, the emotions in his gaze, he shakes his head at you. “You think I'm incapable?”
“Not at all, fuck you’re more capable than most of the dumb boys that fight for me.”
“Then why not?”
“Because I need you safe.” His roaring voice echoes in the dining hall now, he cups your face with rough hands. “I have to make sure you’re here, where I know no one can touch you.”
“I don’t want to be without you.” You feel tears streaming down your cheeks now, he swipes at them, the gnawing in his heart and soul growing with every moment he spends with you, with every look you give him. He can’t take it, all that he feels for you, building and building. “I feel sick.”
You rush out then, and he sighs, watching your retreating form when Uraume walks up. “Could you check on her? She’s angry again, little brat.”
Uraume nods, smiling just a bit, and soon finds you, throwing up. They blink in concern, coming up to you then, holding your hair, as you whimper miserably. “Has something upset your stomach, my Queen?”
“I didn’t even eat or drink, he’s got me s-so angry, Uraume. He doesn’t think I can help…” You’re sick again, and Sukuna is standing by your door, watching in concern as Uraume rubs your back.
“Something is wrong, when was your last monthly?” You blink then, rapidly, leaning on your knees, eyes catching Sukuna’s at the door.
“I haven’t had one since I’ve been here.” You touch your tummy then, smiling, and you see it, not a smirk or sadistic grin, it’s a beautiful smile from Ryomen Sukuna. “I am with child?”
“I’ll have the royal doctor examine you tomorrow. My King, perhaps we can put off the journey for a few days?” They ask, as they’re helping you clean up, you’re cleaning your teeth, even the water you drink after making your tummy hurt.
“For a few days then. Leave us for a moment, please.” Soon Sukuna picks you up carefully, in his arms, cradling you to his chest. Your arms wrap his neck, as you caress his face, so much unspoken between you both, you just study each other, breathless. “You’re carrying my heir?”
“I hope so, Kuna.” You admit, while he sits on the bed, still holding you across his massive lap with two arms, the others, brushing back your hair. “I want to have many heirs for you, I promise I will be a good mother, and a good queen.”
“I already know that, foolish girl. God help me if they’re stubborn like you.” Your eyes narrow, earning his laughter.
“I hope it will be a son for you.”
Sukuna hopes it’s a girl, one just like you, but he doesn’t say that, he shouldn’t say that, he’s a King after all, he needs male heirs. But as one hand rests on your still flat tummy, he pictures it, many children with you, emotions making his heart race faster and faster.
“You cannot come if you are, you know this, don’t be so stubborn.” You sigh, looking up at him.
“I know that. I can’t risk something happening.”
“Finally you see reason, pregnancy becomes you. Don’t glare at me, brat, come on now.” He pulls you against him you rest your head on his chest, nausea easing then as his energy consumes you both, surrounding you. “This baby, with both of our powers, will be a menace.”
“He will be sweet like me, thank you.” Sukuna smirks.
“We’ll see.”
*****
After confirming you were indeed pregnant, Sukuna put his journey off a few days, and he surprises you even when he’s gone, he has an entire nursery made by his servants, it makes no sense to this early but he’s so sure about it. All of his concubines also have disappeared, you’re not really sure where they went, and the servants pamper you.
But you miss him. When he does return weeks later, you’re curled up in his throne asleep, breaking his heart, he’s covered in grime and sweat from his trek, you look so fragile and tiny to him. He’s been consumed again by dreams of you, of fears of something happening to you, to the baby, so to see you so peaceful allows him to breathe for just a moment.
Sukuna gets down on one knee, kneeling for his sleeping queen, so beautiful in front of him, caressing your face carefully, brushing your hair off it where it’s fallen. You snuggle against his big hand, brows together, he notices your hand is on your tummy over your robes, he places his other hand there as you’re mumbling then.
“Kuna… miss you… love you…” You’re babbling, head shifting, your brows knitting together, and he exhales, leaning close, the words that have been stirring since he met you ready to spill.
“I love you, bunny. Infuriating, annoying, silly, stubborn brat.” His whisper is so quiet, and you’re still asleep, he exhales in relief that you don’t hear him yet, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “You make me so foolish.”
You come to then, seeing him and your eyes widening, before they glimmer in tears and you smile so big at him. “You’re home!”
Home, the castle never really felt like a home until you, did it?
“I’m here, why are you sleeping on my throne?” He demands, you blush then in the night, shifting to sit up, looking into his glinting ruby eyes.
“I feel so close to you here.” You admit softly.
“I need to bathe, you’ll wash me hmm?”
“Yes, Kuna.”
You’re both in the onsen, it reminds you of the first time you were taken by him, memories in every bit of the steamy room, as you start cleaning him, sitting on the edge, your legs draped in the water. You frown as you find new scars have formed, although he heals quickly, these must have been deep. You tense as you trail your washcloth across his shoulders.
“They’re just scratches, bunny. Calm down.” He says, feeling it, your worry behind him. He can feel every bit of you, even when he’s gone, he turns then, seeing your beautiful body, smiling as he sees a little roundness of your tummy. “Look at you… this body, fuck…”
“It’s showing a little.” You smile, touching it now, Sukuna leans down, pressing a kiss against it, your hands stroking his hair, feeling it slick under your fingers.
“I need you, bunny. Now.” He tugs you in the water now, you gasp as he pulls you against him, tongue on his stomach thick and wet as it laps at you between your thighs. Your head falls back for his brutal kisses, his rough bites. “Your marks have faded, need new ones huh?”
“Need them everywhere, Kuna.” Sukuna realizes you didn’t hear him earlier, because you would have been boasting about his confession if you did, but you still seem to just know, infuriating in your ability to assess him completely. “What is it, my King?”
He’s looking at you this certain way, opening and closing his lips, you wonder then what he wants to say, but holds back. Your heart is racing as you cling to him, but he kisses you instead, muffling your cries while his tongue works your cunt over and over, sliding inside you, preparing you for him.
“Miss your taste.” He huffs, lips parted, little droplets falling from his lashes. “Missed your annoyance.”
“You missed me, hmm?” You’re grinning, he’s scowling, it’s what you both seem to do, but you love it, love when you’re stretched by his cock and pressed against the wall of the bath, water undulating around you.
“Do you ever shut up?” Your giggles turn into cries soon of pleasure, as his cock drags on your walls, and she’s tightening around him.
“Kiss me.” He does as you demand, desperate and hungry, four arms taking over every bit of your body as he destroys your mind, biting your lips until they’re swollen, sinking deeper into your welcoming cavern, so warm and wet for him.
“I love you, brat.” You gasp now, blinking rapidly as you stare at him. “I won’t say this nonsense again, got it?”
“You love me!? Ah!” Sukuna shoves his cock hard in you now, you’re trying to register his words, as he fucks all sense out of your mind.
“I’ll not repeat it. You know it, yes brat?” He cups your face, gripping your chin, as your heart races, you’re trying to form a coherent word, wondering if you’re dreaming. “Your King asked you a question.”
“You l-love me?”
“Tch.” He pulls out of you, making you whine. “You’re too cock drunk to focus, aren’t you? I said I’ll not repeat myself.”
“You love me too?” You’re laid down on the towels once more, he’s hovering over you with two arms, the others gripping your face.
“Yes, you’ve cast whatever spell, evil bunny. Do you know now?” You’re sobbing, but you’re smiling, confusing the shit out of him. “Are you sad or happy, fuck!?”
“So happy, so happy. I love you and our baby so much, my King.” He rolls his eyes, scoffing, but your words melt him.
“Enough of that. Now.” He sinks back inside your cunt, moaning as he feels your wet heat after weeks of not having it. “Need to feel you cumming for me.”
*****
Your arranged marriage with Ryomen Sukuna, King of Curses, was by far and away the best thing that happened to you. You’ve already had your first child now, a son named after his father, but Sukuna is determined to have more and more of them. When you feel insecure, he scoffs and demands you stop, before his tongues and hands worship your body.
He doesn’t profess his feelings too often, but sometimes when he thinks you’re sleeping, he’ll caress your cheek and whisper ‘I love you, bunny’ thinking you don’t hear him. And every so often when he cums, he cries out in your ear just so, you hear some jumbled ‘fucking love you’ before he catches himself.
He was still a force to be entranced by anyone, but he is soft with his wife, you, his Queen, he’s soft with his son, when he thinks no one sees. Sukuna is a conundrum, and you don’t know if you’ll ever get used to his duality, brutally dominating the world one moment, and the next he’s sweetly kissing your baby’s forehead, or caressing your face softly.
Now, having recovered from having the baby, Sukuna has you on his lap during his meetings with the council often, however this time, your devious husband has his cock inside of you, under your robes. Your cunt is gushing all around him as you try to maintain your composure, and he’s delighting in it, laugh soft in your ear, tickling you as you throb.
“Stay still now bunny, they’ll know what a slut their Queen is for her King’s cocks, hmm?” He taunts, you glare at him, only serving to make him jerk his hips up just so, your eyes roll back in your skull, being stretched like this on him.
“Y-you’re the worst, K-Kuna.” You whisper back, he chuckles again, two of those huge tattooed hands pressing your hips down, stuffing his full length inside you, his tip drooling against your cervix.
“I’ll put two babies in your womb this time. Need twins.” His words end you, the council are speaking now, and you’re trying so hard not to scream out, his other cock his pressing against your clit, you’re gushing down his muscled thighs, his veiny length, feeling so fucking good you can’t take it.
“Your Majesty, we-”
“No, I’m busy.” Sukuna fucking flings his subjects, you’d normally get on him about his antics, but you can’t speak when his cock is buried so deep. He rests his chin on one hand lazily, as the other people speak, and he keeps you still, warming his cock as the other drizzles precum on your belly.
“Kuna, please…” You whisper now, and he feels you tightening, scowling up as you make him sensitive.
“You brat, you mean to tease me?” You bat your lashes innocently.
“No, my King.”
“Keep going and they’ll have their next heir right here.” He hisses, serving to make your heart race, your cunt dripping all over, he sinks a hand under your robes, his tongue from his hand lapping it up, as you bite your lip, stifling your cries. “Want them to watch me fuck another in you?”
“N-no, sadistic ass.” He glares right back, someone is saying something, but the two of you are too consumed in each other to notice.
“Stay still, brat, and I’ll let you ride me right here when we’re done, if you don’t I won’t wait, you’ll have a royal audience.”
You make it through the meeting, just barely, and soon he’s got your robes parted, and you’re straddling him on his throne, taking both of his cocks, riding him, your hands braced on his strong shoulders. He’s sucking on your nipples as your breasts bounce in his face, letting you control the pace, letting you ride him, he won’t tell you but he loves it when you do.
“Going to keep you pregnant, brat.” He huffs, wrecking you with his words, you swear you hear an I love you when he’s cumming so deep, but you let him think you don’t.
“Love you, Kuna.” You murmur, it makes him melt, but he just glares.
“You can still talk, huh bunny? Need to fix that.”If Sukuna is a little softer these days, he has only his very bratty bride to blame, you.
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A/N- aww this was so fun, I loved writing this fun little mini series here. It was fluffy and filthy and I enjoyed making Sukuna soft, idk idk lol!. Ty for the love on this little thing!? Ya'll I'm hooked on Sukuna fr lol (already wrote modern Sukuna nowww) so plenty more to come.
Taglist (Rest will go in repost!) - @mistygrovesarchive @mima0127 @janrcrosssing @thejujvtsupost @clp-84 @makingtimemine @silvarys @after-laughter-come-tears @yenayaps @vantedaes @liivzen @just-lilita @jdevilmadness @lixern @spaceeyhem @thisisew @bozos-r-us @slootbear @pamemoonlight @xxyaoi-nationxx @jschlattsgff @alessdramawouldbenice @sukunasfavgroupie @1emma1 @nanamjai @1-800-blues-clues   @watashiwasohidesu @vynwan-cbq  @mouseyboo @imbacklovie @cyberket @chuuminn @diannana @hanham10 @arilxup88 @suna-is-my-one-and-only @yv-ania @urgirlraven @sillymortalblob @nana-thee-galaxy-g1rl @jiahu
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drewstarkeysring · 21 hours ago
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She did what?- Drew Starkey part 2
˚⋆ ୧ ‎ ࣪ Warnings Cheating , Odessa , swearing
Summary Hollywood is so overrated, but when Larissa finds out what our beloved Drew is up to, shit hits the fan 💋
"I miss you how you made me feel last night"
"When can you leave her house already, I need you"
You're Gut feeling all your friends talked about having when they have gotten cheated on. You said to yourself you would never feel that. Drew was good to you, no signs, no evidence. Until now, you can't breathe. heartbroken is the feeling you felt.
It's been an hour, and he still sleeping.
I looked through all of the messages. He has been gone for two months, which means for those two months. He has been lying and cheating with her. The girl you hate, you knew she always talked shit to her friends when you would be with Drew at a bar. You brushed it off because you never wanted to ruin the moment.
"What are you doing on my phone," Drew says, staring at me. He is caught, and he knows it. He has been awake for the past 5 minutes.
Disbelief is all you feel, the man you loved for 2 years who you thought couldn't hurt you in a way that all your friends told you or the internet. Deeply in love with this man. The hurt you felt, and he was about to hear it.
"Are you kidding me, the shit I found on your fucking phone, you cheated on me with this bitch, be so for real right now Drew". You say
He looks like he has seen a ghost, a ghost that is about to get put through the ringer. "I don't know what to say... I'm sorry baby". He says
"Dont call me that, we done Drew, Done. I have nothing to say to you". you express
"I am gonna leave save us both the trouble". Drew says
I take his phone and throw it against the wall. It shatters. Thank God fuck that hoe. Crash out is all you think but let this motherfucker think you're calm and collected.
A few days later
Brian, your best friend, always was in a show with Odessa. You needed a friend that made you feel at home. Both you and Brian made it up together. You met him at an award ceremony and knew he would be family. He was there with you for everything: first Big Movie, First Vogue Magazine Cover, Victoria's Secret shot, and plenty of other amazing accomplishments. He gets you and always supports you through everything. A big brother that you always wanted.
"I really can't believe him, two months away from you, and you would think he was thinking of you, but no, just thinking with his Dick," Brian says, he takes a sip of his wine.
You roll your eyes. "I wanna kill her and him. Everything I gave to that man and sacrificed for him, cheating, was never on my radar for him. Especially with her, like dude, the bitch is all over him 24/7 you would think, hello, he has a girlfriend maybe I should back away and stop trying to fuck him anymore, but no, my boyfriends fucking her in Italy for two months, while his girlfriend is home waiting for him and missing him." you express in disbelief
"If I could take anything back, it would be that boundaries are a major thing, that first night I met her, I should have known that she wanted him all over him and how she would brush me away every time I would speak."
Sitting on the floor with Brian as the TV in the background was just for noise for your ears. Chineses was just ordered, and Brian brought you your favorite red wine and yap session.
"You're perfect, beautiful as people would say," Brian says jokey. He nudges your shoulder, teasing you. "Don't let this silly man drive you crazy you have major things coming for you, accomplished many, and our the people's princess if you have any takeaways with this shit, it would be he lost the baddest bitch he will ever meet. You should be proud of yourself but do not, and I mean I do not let this shit get you off your tracks, major things are happening in your life. Oscar red carpet for Anora, Fenty shoot, and Vanity Fair shoot with Lily-Rose Depp. Life has shit planned for you." He says while hugging you and reassuring you of your worries. "I love you hoe". He nudges you again.
You roll your eyes. "Love you more boo". You hug him
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grison-in-space · 12 hours ago
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One of my favorite teaching moments was the time that one of the students in my class (a Classics double major that had long since forgotten that anyone else in Genetics Lab might have humanities interests) snapped the opening lines to another student out in the middle of a play argument. I gasped at him, the other student demanded to know what the first had said, I provided my own translation ("I'll rape you in the ass and mouth, cockslut Aurelius and ass-hungry Marcus") and formally made the point that we do not say shit like this unless we expect to stand by our words when someone unexpectedly understands them. Then we got into a brief argument about whether irrumare is better translated as "to skullfuck" or "to rape one's face" and a much longer discussion about the way that toxic masculinity relates to homosexuality and prescriptive sexual behavior.
For the record, what aetherograph is referring to is actually the Roman verb irrumare itself. It is a violent word, and while all the folks above are right that Romans and Greeks alike had a lot of moral panic surrounding men being the receiving partner of penetrative sex, irrumare is specifically more threatening and insulting than, say, pedicare: you're specifically muting the person and potentially blocking their airways here, making them even more vulnerable. It also implies very strongly that the penetrating person is controlling the movement: this is not a verb that can be translated synonymously to "blowing" a person, for example. The word means to forcibly fuck a person's mouth, an act so degrading that it is beyond imagination that an upstanding man would or could tolerate it without being forced.
These are Bad Words to a Roman, and I think translations should incorporate that as well as trying to convey the violence of the words. I really don't like translations that try to downplay the extent to which Catullus 16 is a very, very vivid rape threat in response to (inferred) loss of masculine status on account of spending too much time and attention with female lovers. I think there is a tendency to be delighted by profanity and obscenity themselves in the hallowed halls of literature, and certainly this is one hell of an ancient Italian poetic tradition that continues well into the modern day. But I also think that obscenity and poetry both exist to turn strong feelings into meaning, and I think Catullus' poetry is most powerful and effective when we stop thinking about how naughtily he was saying something and start thinking about what exactly he was saying as he did it.
Catullus certainly is one of the Roman poets that fucked, but Catullus 16 is not a romantic poem but a violent one. (This isn't that uncommon for Catullus, who writes vividly about sex, emotion, and violence as recurring themes and can be almost as aggressive to women as to men. One of his other famous ones, Catullus 11, involves him feeling spurned by a lover and declaring that his friends Furius and Aurelius should go tell her that he says he hopes she's happy with all her many suitors, her three hundred lovers, none of which she truly touches despite the rupture of their thighs; another (Catullus 58) has him complaining that his lover whom he was so attached to is off lying in the back alleys fucking all the "grandsons of Remus," AKA any Roman who shows up and hikes up his tunic.) He was also very capable of mushy sweetness! But the anger is always there lurking beneath the surface.
He was a complicated guy. His poetry is constructed in careful layers of meaning around astonishingly raw emotions, glittering and artistic to behold. He was absolutely a man of his own time and place, which makes him translator catnip. But that time and place was Imperial Rome, and translators ought to work to communicate exactly what sort of place Rome could be, too.
you cant even begin poems with "i will sodomise and facef uck you" anymore. because of woke .
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captainpetebradshaw · 2 days ago
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so i watched 2x22 "the wire" for the first time today and it was a near religious experience so you're getting my thoughts on it under the cut
I love how comfortable they've gotten with each other; talking books? disagreeing about books? garak asking if julian can't just use his status as a doctor to get them to skip the line?
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"perfect health, huh??" julian is so offended by garak lying to him about his condition lol
"i'm a doctor, not a botanist" is this some kind of star trek tradition?
"why can't he just tell me what's going on?" "it sounds like you're taking this personally" "i suppose I am... It's just that garak and I have been having lunch together once a week for more than a year now" once a week?! for more than a year?!
and then julian angrily stabbing dax's plant in frustration. let it out.
unsure if quark called julian to come get the absolutely hammered garak from his bar because he's the doctor or because julian is literally the only social contact quark could think of for garak???
"i prefer to drink somewhere quiet" "quiet? excellent idea... we'll go to my quarters" "whatever you want. but first i must make a stop at the infirmary" guess garak wasn't drunk enough for that little trick
but he was drunk enough to not notice the bottle hand-off to quark
"make it stop, make it stop..." aww no, poor baby!
julian using his doctor credentials to basically break into garak's. guess they ended up in his quarters after all
"if i was ever tortured, [the implant] was designed to stimulate the pleasure centers of my brain to trigger the production of vast amounts of natural endorphins" i gotta say, that has some freaky fucked up potential for fanfics and i can't wait to see how often it has been appropriated in the last 30 years
"living on this station is torture for me, doctor. the temperature is always too cold. the lights are always too bright. every bajoran on the station looks at me with loathing and contempt" ah yes, the autism experience
"why don't you just shut the damn thing off?" julian, do they teach nothing about addiction in med school?
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i had to rewind this scene a couple times because i was chanting "kiss! kiss! kiss!" in my living room and didn't listen to a word they said. the 4:3 aspect ratio is also doing its thing
"has it ever occured to you that i might be getting exactly what i deserve?" "no one deserves this" julian going from all that taunting and appealing to garak's pride to this???? unexpected softness incoming
garak telling this story about how he is responsible for so many people dying and julian just saying right now he's just concerned for his health and won't let him die??? "you need to turn that implant off and whatever withdrawal symptoms or side effects you may experience, i promise i'll help you through them" like this is insane. i assumed people shipped them for a reason (and lower decks made them "canon" for a reason) but i was LIVING watching this.
it also has to be said that andrew robinson is acting the ever living shit out of these scenes - fantastic
even odo can't get past protector mode chief medical officer doctor bashir
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staying by his bedside? for hours???
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shoulder touch denied!!!
it's wild, garak must be suffering so much in that moment but he's still spinning up some new potential backstory. maybe this time it's not a lie but we just don't know.
"and so they exiled you" "that's right! and left me to live out my days with nothing to look forward to but having lunch with you." "i'm sorry you feel that way. i thought you enjoyed my company." "oh i did! and that's the worst part. i can't belive that i actually enjoyed eating mediocre food and staring into your smug sanctimonious face. i hate this place and i hate you." "ok, garak." addicts do get just absolutely hateful so this sounds pretty spot on to me.
on a side note, i don't think i could have done lunch every week with julian. he is smug and he has a big ego and i relate to the other senior officers who were sometimes a little condescending in their reactions when he was boasting about something or other. but that's ok, i don't have to. garak enjoyed it, it seems.
garak: you still have to learn the truth julian: heart eyes motherfucker
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"why are you telling me this, garak?" "so that you can forgive me. why else? i need to know that someone forgives me"
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"i forgive you. for whatever it is you did" "thank you, doctor. that's most kind"
so julian goes and finds the guy who's kind of responsible for garak having that implant in the first place. it's also i think the first time julian acknowledges they are friends?
"how sick is garak?" "he's dying" "and you're trying to save him?" "that's right" "strange... i thought you were his friend?" "i suppose i am" "then you should let him die. after all, for garak, a life in exile is no life at all"
"thank you" "don't thank me. i'm not doing garak any favors. he doesn't deserve a quick death. on the contrary. i want him to live a long, miserable life. i want him to grow old on that station surrounded by people who hate him, knowing that he'll never come home again. "what a lovely sentiment" "and it's from the heart, i assure you" <- that made me laugh
we learn garak's first name!
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he's well again! back to the regularly scheduled lunch date!
and he's got a new book recommendation for julian, how nice
"what i want to know out of all the stories you told me, which ones were true and which ones weren't" "my dear doctor, they were all true" "even the lies?"
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"especially the lies"
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smiley boys!
this ended up being more of a collection of my favorite quotes from the episode but that's fine with me. it's my post.
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pencil-n-pen · 1 day ago
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OVERWORKED
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✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
leon kennedy x fem! reader
summary: You’re still struggling with overworking. Leon shows you when it’s time to take a break.
previous (not required but gives some context)
cw: once again, female pronouns used but reader’s features are not described, some suggestive content, dom! leon much more heavily this time, very not subtle praise kink (use of good girl), pet names, tbh rating COULD be pg-13 but i don’t write nsfw so minors ur fine :) uhhhh non-sexual sub-space if you squint?
tags/tropes: once again hurt/comfort, cuddles, leon being touchy again (reader is just as touchy honestly) soft dom behavior (leon)
a/n: a little continued drabble for those of u who asked/liked the last one !! hope u like it @cherryandsugar <3
MY ELDEST DAUGHTERS WITH PRAISE KINKS MAKE SOME NOISE 🔥🔥🔥🗣️🗣️🗣️💯💯💯
。𖦹°‧⭑.ᐟ
You’re overworking again.
You don’t mean to, necessarily. It’s just always what you do. Work, work, work. It needs to get done, so you do it. No matter how tired you are, no matter how much you don’t want to do it. No matter how many tears get shed. It needs to get done. You have to do it. So you do it.
Leon’s been taking issue, with it though.
You’re not really sure what you are to each other, yet. He definitely finds you attractive —he tells you pretty much everyday, an almost overuse of words like hot, sexy, cute, amazing, and of course, his favorite; princess.
He occasionally comes over to the place you and a few other girls rent together and does his absolute best to be as distracting as possible. Sometimes he cooks, sometimes he gets touchy, sometimes he just sits on your bed and watches you work which is, in your opinion, by far the worst one.
When he’s not bothering you in the comfort of your own home, he’s sitting next to you in the couple classes you share, a distracting hand on your thigh that he squeezes when you get a question right— something that never fails to make you breathless and dizzy for a few minutes afterwards. Between the sight of his hand engulfing your thigh and the frequency of your correct answers, it’s a miracle you don’t asphyxiate during class.
You did come close, once. It was a week after what you’ve dubbed The Library Incident, and the professor had singled you out as one of his most consistent students when it came to turning in homework. Leon had leaned down, his lips brushing the shell of your ear and whispered, all low and rumbly:
“Good girl.”
You didn’t get a single thing out of the lecture for the rest of class.
(You’d then given him the silent treatment, but he made up for it by you sending you his rather extensive and detailed notes from the lesson with a single text: “Better learn to multitask, princess.”)
So yeah. He isn’t a huge fan of your studying habits. Something he’s made abundantly clear.
“When was the last time you got up?” He grumbles, walking into your room with your now full reusable water bottle. You’d abandoned it in the kitchen a few hours ago. He’s such a stickler about your water intake.
“Who are you, my mother?” You pause, looking up at the mischief in his eyes and the way his mouth is open, poised to say something, likely dirty. “Don’t answer that.”
You reach out with grabby hands towards your water bottle, which you know is filled with some delicious water combination, courtesy of Leon. Shit, he’s Pavlov-ing you into drinking water, isn’t he?
He rolls his eyes, handing you the bottle. “You know, you can make this exact same water yourself with the items in your fridge. Which I put there. For you. To use. Yourself.”
“You make it better,” You answer smoothly, ignoring his sarcasm. Ooooh. It’s minty strawberry today.
“Oh?” He says with a raised eyebrow, a signature Leon smirk on his lips. The same one he always gets when you admit to liking him in some way.
“You’re such an attention whore. Isn’t that why you came over here?”
“Ouch. So touchy,” He tuts, draping himself over your back and resting his chin on your head. “But no. I came over here to drag the lovely and beautiful and terribly stubbornly princess away from her desk because she’s overworking again.”
You tense. “I can’t, Leon. Not right now. I have to finish this.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
“What happens if you don’t?”
“I get behind and then I can’t catch up and then I fail—“
“Woah, now,” He says, standing and spinning your desk chair so it faces him instead of your work. “None of that is going to happen if you take a break. We both know your work ethic is too good for that.”
You start worrying your lip between your teeth. “But—“
“Hey,” He says, a gentle, slow hand reaching out and brushing your lip away from your teeth. “None of that. Leave your lip alone.”
You wince. It’s a mindless action, the same way you pick at your hangnails and other parts of your skin when you’re stressed. “Sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry for. Just don’t want my girl hurting herself more than she already is.”
You ignore the latter part of his sentence and focus on the first. “Your girl?”
“Yeah,” He says, tilting his head and looking down at you with a small smile on his face. “My girl.”
You look down at your hands, fidgeting with the hem of your sweatshirt. “I won’t be able to sleep or relax if I don’t finish this. It— I can’t.”
He takes the side of your face in his hand, thumb sweeping across your cheek and beneath your eyelid. “I know, baby. But you work too much.”
“But I have—“
“You have to, I know. I know you’re hardwired for independence and overworking. So how about this. Take a break, lie down in bed with me, and then finish only what you’ve already started.”
You start chewing on your lip again. “I—“
His fingers deftly move down to your jaw, grabbing it firm, thumb pressing on the edge of your lip and pulling it down, away from the merciless bite of your teeth. His grip leaves no room for argument, but you don’t feel frightened or scared. In fact, your stomach is doing flips at the careful, gentle control in the press of his hands and the fondness in his eyes.
“I know I phrased that very nicely, but this isn’t an argument, sweetheart. You need to rest. Your brain needs time to recharge. What happens if you get sick from all this working, huh?”
You decide now isn’t the time to bring up that you always work through every cold, flu, and fever you’ve ever had.
“Hey,” He leans down, catching your averted gaze. “Look at me.”
He could easily turn your head himself, his fingers still pressed against your jaw, but he doesn’t. He waits for you to muster up the strength to look over at him yourself, eyelashes fluttering.
His gaze is cool and deep when it meets yours. “I am not mad at you. I am not upset with you. I just want you to take care of yourself.”
His voice, gaining that low, rumbly edge when he ushers the words sends tingles up your spine. You sigh, letting the tension ease from your shoulders.
“I’m sorry.”
“You don’t have to be.”
“I’ll try harder.”
“You’re doing just fine, okay?” He pulls you up by your hands, hand leaving your face as he tugs you over to your bed. Once you’ve sat down, he reaches back towards your desk, grabbing your water bottle from your desk and putting it on your bedside table. “You just need a little help sometimes. Everybody does.”
He motions for you to scoot over and you oblige, immediately slotting into what’s become one of your usual positions: arms wrapped around his torso, head pillowed on his chest.
“There we go,” He mumbles, hand sliding under your shirt, intermittently squeezing the place his hands always seem to find: the squishy, vulnerable stretch of flesh in between the top of your hip and the bottom of your ribcage. He rolls the skin there in his hands, a pleased hum rumbling from his chest. “Such a good girl for me.”
You shudder, hiding your blush by pressing your face further into his chest. A tingle spreads from your spine to the rest of your body.
He chuckles. “Aw, you like that don’t you? Did the same thing last time. Is that all I have to do? Is that what you need, baby?”
A small whine rip’s itself from your throat before you manage to tamp it down. Embarrassed, you try and hide your face further.
“None of that, now. Come on, let me see that pretty face.”
You shift, rolling to basically lie on top of him, bracing your hands on either side of him to lift your head, a small frown on your face and a not-so-small flush across your face.
He smiles, hands coming up to cup your cheeks. “There she is,” He practically coos, “My pretty baby.”
“You’re baby-talking me.”
“Mhm,” He says, squeezing your cheeks. “You got a problem with it?”
“…No.”
“What was that?”
You drop back down, wrapping your arms around his neck and resting your chin on his chest. “Shhh. I’m supposed to be resting.”
“Convenient that you’re listening to me now.”
“Shush.”
He grumbles, but doesn’t say anything more. He slips his hands under your shirt, palming the expanse of your skin. His fingers are hot where they press and linger, warmth spreading from the points of contact. You go limp in his hold, humming contentedly.
You’re not really sure how much time passes with the both of you like that— bodies pressed close, legs tangled together. It just feels so… nice.
You relax. You actually relax. A small part of you feels annoyed that Leon is your source of comfort and relaxation (muttered whispers in your brain whine about independence, about not relying on anyone else—) the bigger, louder part of you is so overwhelmed with how nice it feels to just… not worry. Even for a little bit. In moments like this your brain goes pleasantly blank: Leon will take care of it. You don’t have to worry, because Leon will take care of it.
The stretches of time you spend in what you’ve mentally dubbed Limbo have started getting longer. At first, you’d last five, maybe ten minutes before your brain would kick into high gear again; worries and concerns flooding your brain so quickly you usually jolt straight up.
But now? It’s easy to slip into it. To let yourself take a mental break. Check out from life for a half hour or so. And when you’re ready to get back to work, you do just that- usually a lot calmer than before Leon came around.
It’s addicting. It’s dangerous.
“How long has it been.”
“Five minutes.”
You blink your eyes open, frowning. “It has not been five minutes,” You reach for your bedside table, snatching your phone off and checking the time. “Liar. It’s been thirty minutes.”
“Is it so wrong to want to lay in bed and hold my princess?”
“It is when the princess has work to do.” You grumble, sitting off and rolling off the bed with a thud.
“It’s so unnerving when you do that. Doesn’t it hurt?”
“No,” You say, hauling yourself to your feet. “It’s fun.”
“I don’t see how sustaining bodily injury is fun.”
“You wouldn’t get it,” You say, waving a hand in dismissal.
Loud shuffling and the thump of Leon climbing to his feet has you looking back. “You’re leaving?”
You can’t quite keep the desperation out of your tone.
He looks at you, surprised. “Usually you don’t like it when I stay while you work.”
“Yes,” You say, cheeks burning. “Um. Yeah. Right yeah. I have work to do. So.”
“Princess,” He says, his voice low and teasing, “You want me to stay?”
“No, no I have to work—“
“Uh-uh,” He says, crossing the room to stand in front of you, arms folded. “No lying. Do you want me to stay?”
You look down at your sock-clad feet. “Please?”
“Aw, well how could I say no to that,” He leans down, pressing a quick kiss to the crown of your head. “Finish your work. I’ll be right here when you’re done.”
“…Can we go get slushies when I’m done?”
“Of course, baby.”
You finish your work in record time.
˙⋆✮
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ennabear · 11 minutes ago
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hehehe haiii twin 🤭🤭 making my yappery reblog comeback with this blurb because it’s so adorable and i’ve read it a million times already… also i’m not really sure if any of this will be legible because i’m half asleep with a migraine so… BUT I LOVE YOU AND I LOVE THIS AND I LOVE ELLIEBEAR HEHEHEHE
your relationship with her was still very new, full of shy glances, giggles, and tingles when your fingers grazed - both of you wanted to be perfect for the other. to not rush. but to say you didn't long to be kissed was a lie.
omg i’m gonna cry this is so cute… shy loser ellie I NEED YOUUUUUU 😭 the way i long to be kissed by her is crazy how did you know… sighhh you write her so beautifully it’s like she’s real and in my phone 😞😞😞
you stared at those pouty rosebud lips of hers, and dreamed about how they'd feel on yours. you counted her freckles and fantasized about ghosting your lips over each and every one of them, igniting her cheeks in a blush; a hue so deep it makes them vanish. luckily for you, the perfect moment was fast approaching.
stop this rn… bae… i’m sobbing… those freckles… the way i would kiss the shit out of her is crazy I WANNA SMOOCHY SMOOCH HERRRRRRRUGHHH omg i’m gonna throw my phone how are u doing this… literally every way you describe her is so adorable i’m 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹 perfect moment fr i need her to be my new years kiss even though it’s january 4th
you two decided to watch the fireworks outside in a clearing, so you could stargaze before and after the main event. it was cold, and you felt her nuzzle closer to you-your heart skipped a beat. you nudged her with your shoulder, "ellie, it's almost time!"
:((((( now i wanna stargaze with her and get all cozy and cuddle with her and look at the sky and be warm and and and and…. give her a kith…
you were met with a dazed murmur, a grumpy sound. you shook the silly girl awake, melting at her adorable expression-sleepy as a nesting owl. she jumped when a sudden firework shot up in the sky, creating a sparkly golden trail. you looked at them too, but you were more focused on the glint in her eyes—a wonder and joy like none other. she turned to you, grinning as wide as ever, but you had other plans.
HEHEHEHE AWWWW her falling asleep is so meeeee i’m bawling i’m screaming i’m crying i’m sobbing 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 twin have i ever told you that you’re the best writer in the world… because you are… the way you describe this whole scene is so perfect i can see it so clearly it’s crazy… how are u doing that… need you to write a book next please and thanks!!!!!
"yay! happy new year! i—" escaped from her paired with a gleeful chuckle, only you cut her off by pressing your lips to hers without a warning, leaving her breathless. she was so soft, velvety lips and the warmth of her unsteady gasps fanning your face.
shortly, she kissed you back lovingly, sweetly, tenderly, as if you were made of precious ceramic, her hand gently cradling yours.
KITH KITH KITH KITH KITH KITH!!!!! i can’t take this anymore ellie come out where are you this isn’t funny bae… its okay i just want a kiss… and to hold your hand… and cuddle… and take a nap… please… dont make me ant on a stick rn… i need to give her a ninions kiss so bad omg it hurts… put my whole tongue in her mouth and blush like 🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅 until we’re both yellow… uhhhhh does that mean anything idk
you broke apart to smile at her, canines bared and everything, and brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear. your heart grew many sizes looking at her like this, you haven't felt such adoration for someone so fast in what feels like forever. your voice was shaky with emotion, nothing but positivity, and you whispered while you rested your forehead against hers, "happy new year, ellie. here's to a good one."
i adore her so much and i adore u twin i’m sobbinggggg I WANT TO KISS HER SO BAD… oh no what’s happening my lips are cold and lonely… if only i had her to keep them warm all year… and then again next year… and the year after… sighhhhh too bad she’s only in my phone… i guess i’ll just have to read through twins whole masterlist to keep myself sane…
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i just know new years with ellie would be so damn special. have this i farted out in two seconds...i miss writing so bad.
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your relationship with her was still very new, full of shy glances, giggles, and tingles when your fingers grazed—both of you wanted to be perfect for the other. to not rush. but to say you didn't long to be kissed was a lie.
you stared at those pouty rosebud lips of hers, and dreamed about how they'd feel on yours. you counted her freckles and fantasized about ghosting your lips over each and every one of them, igniting her cheeks in a blush; a hue so deep it makes them vanish. luckily for you, the perfect moment was fast approaching.
you two decided to watch the fireworks outside in a clearing, so you could stargaze before and after the main event. it was cold, and you felt her nuzzle closer to you—your heart skipped a beat. you nudged her with your shoulder, "ellie, it's almost time!"
you were met with a dazed murmur, a grumpy sound. you shook the silly girl awake, melting at her adorable expression—sleepy as a nesting owl. she jumped when a sudden firework shot up in the sky, creating a sparkly golden trail. you looked at them too, but you were more focused on the glint in her eyes—a wonder and joy like none other. she turned to you, grinning as wide as ever, but you had other plans.
"yay! happy new year! i—" escaped from her paired with a gleeful chuckle, only you cut her off by pressing your lips to hers without a warning, leaving her breathless. she was so soft, velvety lips and the warmth of her unsteady gasps fanning your face.
shortly, she kissed you back lovingly, sweetly, tenderly, as if you were made of precious ceramic, her hand gently cradling yours.
you broke apart to smile at her, canines bared and everything, and brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear. your heart grew many sizes looking at her like this, you haven't felt such adoration for someone so fast in what feels like forever. your voice was shaky with emotion, nothing but positivity, and you whispered while you rested your forehead against hers, "happy new year, ellie. here's to a good one."
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mads-hemmo · 2 days ago
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It’s Nice to Have A Friend - Jschlatt
Part 1
Reader has been lonely their whole life. They have never been in a relationship. They don’t understand why no one will love them but their best friend, Schlatt has always been in love with them.
Part 2
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From a young age, you have always been a hopeless romantic. Your favorite content always revolves around romance of some sort. You even have had your wedding planned since you went to your first wedding at merely six years old. Your plans are forever cemented on a Pinterest board that you continue to add to about monthly. I mean your taste has changed since 2015, but some things still remain true.
The only problem is that you haven’t got to experience romance yourself. At the ripe old age of 25, you have never been in a relationship. You have had your first kiss, but it wasn’t magical. You only did it because you hated being the college kid who had never kissed anyone. You slightly regret it, but at least it was out of the way.
The only good thing is that at least you have a best friend who you made a marriage pact with. You and your best friend Schlatt, met in middle school. When you were both sad and single in high school, you made a pact that if neither of you were married by 40, you would get married. It was just a silly thing that you both constantly laugh about.
When you met Schlatt in middle school, the two of you immediately hit it off. You saw Schlatt sitting by himself one day and decided to sit by him. You had a few classes with him and thought he seemed like a cool dude. At first he acted like he wanted to be alone, but you learned soon after that he really didn't have many friends. The two of you learned you had a lot in common. You both loved Nintendo, especially Mario Kart as well as computer games.
The one difference is you loved all things romance whereas Schlatt only cared about gaming and baseball. The really fucked up thing about the universe is that Schlatt has had multiple relationships while you remain single. His relationships usually never lasted, but it was still strange. The universe also made you bisexual and you still somehow manage to be lonely. But at least you had your best friend, Schlatt and that stupid marriage pact.
The hardest moment for you was when Schlatt decided to move to Austin, Texas. It was the longest and farthest apart you have ever been from each other. You knew it was good for career and would help him grow his channel, but it sucked being apart for so long. Thankfully, Schlatt made the decision to come back home to New York. When he came back, it was like nothing changed. You had your best friend back and nothing could make you happier.
Most of your nights lately have been spent hanging out at Schlatt’s apartment playing Mario Kart like you did as kids. Tonight was no different. Schlatt was playing as a Villager and you were playing as Cat Peach. “I tried downloading Tinder again,” you say, randomly.
“Why?” Schlatt asked, his eyes located on the screen.
“Maybe there’s someone new. We live in New York. Who knows who might have moved here? Maybe my soulmates!”
“Toots, how many times do I have to tell you? One, your soulmate is not going to be on tinder and two, you’re better off with a true New Yorker than some new kid that wants to make it on broadway or some shit.”
You sigh. “Oh my god, but imagine they are on broadway! You know my love for musical theatre! Maybe we need to go watch a show. The lead being so into their part locks eyes with me and we realize we are truly in love like the characters on the stage.”
Schlatt lets out a small laugh while rolling his eyes. “You are ridiculous, (Y/N),” he says, looking at you.
“You’re just mad that I’m kicking your ass right now.”
“You wish, Fucker,” he says, his competitive spirit coming back.
The two of you continue playing until you both decide you're hungry, so Schlatt orders pizza from your favorite place. “You staying the night?” Schlatt asks, grabbing the Bénédictine bottle and a few solo cups.
“Might as well. It’s the weekend after all,” you say, pouring the liquor into your cup.
“The guest room is always open for you. However, the cats have made it their own, so they might sleep with you.”
“It would be nice to have someone or something laying beside me even if it is just cats. I did always say I was going to be the crazy cat person, but the tables have seemed to turn,” you joke.
“I’m a very proud cat dad. They make great content and the ladies love them,” Schlatt says, moving his eyebrows.
You laugh at him. You miss the way his smiles grow with each laugh that leaves your mouth. “Did I tell you I started a new hobby?” You ask him.
“No? How do you have the time to have another hobby? What happened to crocheting or reading or shipping random men together?”
“I’m still doing all those things and I ship people of all genders. Anyways, I started coloring.”
“Coloring? Like with crayons?” He asks, not in a malicious way, but with genuine curiosity.
“No, with alcohol markers and white gel pens to add highlights. I saw it on TikTok of course and it’s been really fun. It’s also very stress relieving.”
“Can I see some of your finished work?” He asks, his eyes not breaking contact with yours.
“Oh yeah, sure,” you say, pulling your phone out. Sometimes you find it strange how Schlatt actually cares about your hobbies and various interests. He never makes you feel bad about it. He just lightly teases you, but you know that’s just how he is.
Schlatt looks at the pictures you took of the pages you have colored. “Awe I love the little kitty. They are cute! This is really impressive, Toots. It looks like you printed these out. Maybe next time you come over, you should bring your markers and we can color together. Mine won’t be near as good as yours, but I bet it would be fun,” Schlatt says.
You hold your pinky out and Schlatt wraps his around yours. “I’m holding you to that, Big Guy.”
“You know I’d never break a pinky promise. You bring the markers and I’ll bring the Bénédictine.” The marriage pact was formed on a pinky promise and that makes your heart feel warm.
You hear the doorbell ring and realize that your pinkies are still connected. You quickly get up to go answer the door. You see a very handsome man holding the pizza boxes. “Here’s your pizza,” he says. “It’s not everyday that I deliver to someone so pretty.” He winks at you.
“You’re too nice. Hold on, let me grab your tip,” you smile, turning around. You see Schlatt and he hands you a ten dollar bill. “Thank you.”
“Sorry I didn’t realize you had a boyfriend. I couldn’t have flirted with you if I knew,” the guy apologizes.
“He’s not-“ you start.
“Don’t worry about it, dude,” Schlatt says, grabbing the pizza and handing him the money. “Have a good night.” Schlatt closes the door. He goes to the kitchen to grab plates before coming back to the living room.
“What was that?” You ask him.
“What? I just finished what you were going to say. That guy also was probably a high schooler.”
You just decide to not push it any further, knowing that Schlatt is probably right. “What movie do you want to watch?” You ask.
“As long as it’s not a musical, I don’t care what we watch. I recommend Tokyo Drift, but you’re the guest,” Schlatt says, with a piece of pizza in his mouth.
“We can watch Tokyo Drift. It’s been awhile since you picked the movie.”
Schlatt smiles at you. “Thanks Bub.” He puts the movie on.
It doesn’t take long for you to pass out. Schlatt knew it was inevitable. You usually fall asleep during a film and with liquor and pizza on your belly, it’s no surprise when he hears your soft snores. Your head makes its way on Schlatt’s shoulders. He smiles at you and he feels his heart start to race. He wishes you weren’t so hard on yourself and saw how amazing you were.
After about twenty minutes, he realized that you were pretty much out. Instead of having you sleep on the couch, he gently picks you up, bridal style and carries you to the guest bedroom. He carefully lays you down and places the blanket over you. He watches in awe as jambo cuddles beside you. When he knows you’re definitely asleep, he kisses your forehead. “I love you. Sleep tight, Toots,” he says, cleaning up the living room before going to his bed. Schlatt wishes you were laying beside him. He would hold you tight and never let you ever think you were incapable of being loved. He falls asleep, happy with the fact that you are asleep in his house and not with someone who doesn’t deserve you.
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A/N: yay!! New fic!! Thank you to 🍓 anon, and everyone else who suggested this req!! Hope you enjoy the first part. Sorry I’m posting this in the middle of the night! Let me know what you know!!
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presleyslilbaby · 2 days ago
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~You Don’t Tease Me~
(50’s!Elvis X Reader)
(TW: Sexual public displays, fingering, orgasm denial, crude language, Elvis taking Reader's panties, potential misspellings-)
(For @jhoneybees Who gave me a good prompt after we discussed Elvis in this picture-)
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"Yeah, uh...We was goin' to the studio if you'd like to come along." Elvis spoke, leaning in to your touch as you caressed his cheek oh-so-lovingly. "Mm. I'd like to go, sure." You replied. A smile crossed his gorgeously plump lips, and he leaned in to peck your own a few times. "That's a good Dolly. I was hopin' you'd say yes. Honestly, it's fun at the studio, but it ain't the same without you." He admitted, rising from the sofa and stretching his arms above his head. "Aww, Elvis," You giggled, rising from the sofa yourself. "Okay, let me go get ready and I'll be out-" "Baby, you already look so good." He pouted, trailing his fingers down your arm before grabbing your hand. "Let's just go, hm? You're already lookin' like the most gorgeous model I've seen." That caused your face to flush. No matter how many times he'd complimented you, it was something you somehow had never gotten used to.
On the way to the studio, your mind had wandered places perhaps it shouldn't have gone. While Elvis kept you satisfied in bed, you couldn't help but want more. Something more...Risky. So, as he drove the both of you to the studio, unbeknownst to him, you were already hatching a plan in your mind.
When you finally arrived, you played innocent the entire time, refusing to let him know what you planned to do even if a little bit. "El?" You called to him cutely. "Hm?" Elvis turned to you, lowering the glass he rose to his lips for a drink. "Can I stand up there with you?" You pouted, swinging your skirt side-to-side in an innocent gesture. He thought about it for a moment, glancing at the other Guys in the room before nodding with a gentle smile. "Sure thing, Baby." He agreed, opening his arms out for you in a beckoning gesture.
Perfect.
Swinging your hips as you walked up to him, you wrapped your arm around him in a soft embrace before turning yourself around to look at the lyrics propped up on the little podium. Of course, you weren't exactly paying attention, but you sure as hell had to pretend to. But as soon as Elvis began to sing, you knew it was the perfect time to begin your dirty little plan.
Pushing back against him, you could feel his body slightly tense with the action, one of his hands finding its way to your waist as if to keep you in line. But if you were being completely honest with yourself, you didn't give a shit. So, you decided to move slightly against him, rubbing your ass against his crotch. During a break in the song, Elvis leaned his head down to whisper in your ear. "Y/n, what're you doin'?" He asked. "I'm not doing anything." You innocently whispered back, giving him those sweet little puppy-dog eyes. He shook his head. "Bullshit you ain't. Behave." He growled, going right back to singing.
Behave...Now what kind of word was that? You weren't sure if you knew what that meant.
While you did behave yourself for a total of forty seconds max, you couldn't exactly go any longer before rubbing back against him again. His grip on your waist tightened as did the way his jaw clenched, and you knew you were in trouble when he growled "Li'l Girl, quit your shit," in your ear. But when you finally managed to make him grunt in pleasure, that's when Elvis decided enough was enough. "'Scuse me, Boys. I need to take five." He said, grabbing his empty glass and walking out of the room, pretending as if he was going to refill his water, but in reality knew you would follow. And when you had, he swiftly pulled you by the arm and into the bathroom where he immediately locked the door.
"The hell was that back there???" "It was just a little teasing." You replied with a little shrug. Pushing you against the wall, Elvis grabbed your jaw and tilted your head upwards to look at him, body pressing against yours. "Aw, you don't get to tease me like that. You're gettin' teased too."
Fuck yeah.
He pushed your skirt up and out of the way, forcing your legs open with his knee before diving his hand into your panties like it was nothing. "Why's this pussy wet, Baby? Did'ja wanna get off that bad?" He roughly asked, his voice low and sexy. You nodded, shivering when his long fingers brushed against your weeping slit. "Yeah...Wanted you to bend me over..." You admitted, hearing him scoff. "Well with that li'l stunt you pulled in front o' the Guys, you just lost that chance, Honey. You're lucky they didn't see what you was doin'." Slipping two fingers inside of you, he started pumping them in and out, quickly speeding up his pace until he was finger fucking you with wild abandon. You moaned loudly, spreading your legs wider for him out of pure need, rocking your hips in tempo with every thrust of his fingers. "Yeah, you like that, Baby? Like my fingers in ya'?" He asked hotly, leaning down to press his lips to your neck, kissing and sucking on your skin. "Ahh...Yes...Oh, give me more, Elvis..." You begged.
Elvis didn't waste a single second of time stuffing another finger inside your tight cunt, pressing his thumb against your clit where he began to rub in circles. "Fuck...!" You gasped, arching your back. "Oh, good Girl. Let me hear that pretty voice sing." Grinning lewdly, he ran his tongue slowly along the column of your throat before stuffing yet another finger inside of you. "Gettin' close, Honey?" He wondered after a while of fingering. You nodded your head rapidly, panting and whining. But before you could orgasm, Elvis suddenly stopped rubbing your clit and pulled his fingers out of your pussy, lifting them to his mouth where he began to suck all of your juices off. "Aw, that's too bad, then. Guess ya' shouldn't have teased." He spoke, using his free hand to pull your panties off all the way where he then shoved them in his pocket. "Oh, and you don't need those." He smirked, giving you a wink before straightening you out.
That son of a bitch...
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punkpandapatrixk · 20 hours ago
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Full Cold Moon in Gemini ♦︎ Moon Magick Pick A Card
Hello cute people~☃️ Happy holidays!~🎄✨🕊 Have you felt freer lately? We had a Full Cold Moon in Gemini on 15 December. Ruled by Mercury, Gemini's whole consciousness revolves around Intellect; and for some reason, I’ve always felt that the Gemini aenergy is also pure sunshine like it’s literally so bright and cheerful🍳 Perhaps it exudes from a passion for learning? Being the ‘toddler’ of the zodiac, Gemini is naturally carefree and curious about Life. Gemini wants to know all the trivial details of the world~📑
Although it's cold now, on some parts of the world, this Gemini FM aenergy is motivating us to get curious, get studying, get absolutely learning, about every little thing that piques our interest. Since you’re a spiritual one, I’m sure you sometimes get intuitive nudges for certain topics of study that you can easily google or youtube in this digital era. Ain’t that welcome?📚 This Full Cold Moon in Gemini, basically you're invited to just take it easy~♪
Relaaax, the real New Year is still ways ahead anyway😉
Study whatever you like when you want to, work as much or as little as it is sensible to you, and just… Know that you are safe now. This season, this coming year, it would be very sensible to get to know more about nutrition and the human body if you care enough. You can also discover real history and so much more. Basically, it’s time to celebrate Life itself, you celebrity!~★
To fall in love with Life all over again—because it’s good to be alive, to be breathing. For as long as your heart’s still beating, there’s still so much to be hopeful for~♡ Here's to a wonderful 2025~♦︎
ethics: Episode 3: L'Oreal Group on TRT World
documentary: How L’Oreal Poisoned the World on Jake Tran
deck-bottom: XIII The Death Rx, Gold Geographer (John Dee), Priestess of Inspiration
[Moon PAC Masterlist] [Patreon] [Paid Readings] [buymeaboba]
☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.
Pile 1 – Sweet Love, Fresh Air, New Land
subliminal: A clear mind makes for a happy soul by lanaes
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dream – 2 of Cups Rx
When was the last time you felt safe in a connection? Hmm maybe never? Maybe all of the connections you’d ever made in the past disappointed you in the end? Spiritual narcissists might say it was ‘all on you’ LOL They’d say, you didn’t have a good relationship with yourself, so you naturally manifested disappointing connections with others. It’s very callous to put it that way, right? It’s not like YOU wanted things to go that way!
Who in their right mind would want to sabotage themselves when it comes to having fulfilling romance and friendships? The truth of the matter is, you took on the collective karma of many who didn’t know how to love themselves, because they were born by parents who didn’t know how to love them. You needed to live amongst the ‘peasants’, assume the role of a ‘peasant’, so you know what’s stopping the ‘peasants’ from manifesting wealth for themselves.
In this case, we’re talking a wealth, an abundance of true, soulful Love in our connections with other Humans. The truth of your being, actually, is that the whole time, you’re a ‘spiritual royalty’ who’s already got a mega wealth of Love you can always generate within yourself. Your task in this world is to help ‘teach’ others how they can do the same for themselves~♥︎
detail – Page of Wands Rx
This section is supposed to cover some beneficial habits and routines that can amplify your wellbeing this FM season, but it looks to me like this Pile, if anything, has done a shit ton of spiritual rehabilitation! XD If anything, you’ve done so much self-healing and self-soothing; you’ve done so much inner work on yourself, for yourself; you’ve isolated yourself from the world outside to keep you safe, to keep your aenergy pure. What else can I add to this? Hahah
So, what the Page of Wands in reverse is saying, is basically a validation for you to still take your time. Some of you tuning into this may just feel like nothing’s been changing at all in your physical Reality—you may feel like maybe your train or aeroplane is never gonna come to pick you up. Not the case at all. The train ain’t even late. The train is just still being built!! LMAO
Once it arrives though, the way it carries you towards your Destiny, you’re gonna be SHOOK to see how fast, how exciting, how luxury everything is! Think of your train or aeroplane as a luxury Patek Philippe watch—it can take years, even decades, for some pieces to finish being made!! Maybe now’s still just time for you to refine and develop your senses, so that when all of that luxury and spotlight become yours, you wouldn’t be cringe LMAOMFG
You know, new-money kinda cringe? You ain’t supposed to be like that XDD
digital – 8 of Cups
Finally! This has been a long time coming, but you’re totally moving away, inching ever closer to your Highest Destiny in the coming year. I’ve a feeling, especially if this is your main Pile, that you’ve heard this numerous times through other readings for yeaarrsss… And the change, the move, the luxury never quite was there? Or even when some changes were felt, they were so small and insignificant you found it hard to even appreciate them?
I know. The spirit of delay, right? I feel that you were only still battling the last remnants of the karmic bullshit you had taken on. But 2025 is different for so many Lightworkers and Starseeds, or anybody who’s been hard at work on their spiritual transmutation~♥︎
Between 2025 and 2026 (exactly within this time frame!) the change of scenery, the move, the travel that you’ve been known is meant for your Highest Intended Good will be manifest. There’s nothing else I need to say. Enjoy, my dear~ You’ve sacrificed, and survived, a lot for this~\`★_★`/
full moon self-care🔻🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘
Green Geographer (Gerardus Mercator) & Priestess of Luxury
Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸
☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.
Pile 2 – Total Reclamation of What Made You Divine~
subliminal: mathematical pursuits by lanaes
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dream – 10 of Pentacles Rx
Oh my gosh, look at you! You’ve been dealing with a horrendous level of stress that’s caused you extreme exhaustion and prolonged fatigue. It seems either you’ve been sick throughout the holiday season or you’ve simply not been able to be as productive as you’d planned. It’s all for your good, honey. The truth of the matter is, your Higher Self and team of Spirit Guides made you sick or something like it, so you’d pause for a moment.
Because you’d been surviving, and hustling for survival, you’d forgotten what it felt like to just…live. If you look around, you’re already on safe waters. But your subconscious mind that got used to surviving hasn’t caught on XD In order to make you really see how safe it is now, you had to be sick. And voila, even when you thought you hadn’t been as productive, your basic needs are still met, right? :D There you go. It’s all taken care of now.
This season, all throughout spring, too, is all about you reclaiming every bit and piece of what made you Divine~ The bits and pieces that flew off when you went into survival mode. It’s like… …
detail – XII The Hanged Man Rx
When Sylvester Stallone was fighting tooth and nail for the script for Rocky, he got convicted out of his apartment and eventually felt forced to sell his puppy for $50 (when he had offered $100) to survive on the streets… He sobbed so hard on the way home. But as Destiny would have it, once Rocky became a box office hit, he was able to buy his little pup back for… $15,000!! He even had to fight for it! Whew, it was worth it, he said😊
In order to survive, you had to let go of some ‘aspects of your livelihood’ that were precious and fundamental to your sense of identity. You may resonate with having lost a huge chunk of your youth or life in general. It felt almost like, against your own freewill, you were led to dramatic events that got you feeling like you weren’t even allowed to live…like a normal person! Well, that’s the thing, you Prototype!
You know that you’re a Prototype, right? One of many of us tapping into this Pile right now😉 I saw a meme on Pinterest that perfectly encompasses this idea: ‘When the whole world is collectively going through their Dark Nights of the Soul but YOU have survived a few of your own~’ Exactly.
digital – Knight of Wands Rx
You, are now collecting and reclaiming your little Butkus (Stallone’s pup). All of the things that were important to your sense of identity or wellbeing. They’re all returning to you, bit by bit, maybe. But you’re gaining momentum for a full-life again—but better. You’re not returning to how things used to be! You’re reclaiming all of the small and big things that made you Divine~ TOTAL RECLAMATION OF YOUR DIVINITY.
I’ve a feeling you may resonate with those readings that say: ‘You’re going to be the first millionaire/billionaire in your bloodline!’ If you look at your birth chart, you may get some confirmation on how you’re literally destined for so much prosperity~♥︎
Well, tap into that pool of consciousness! If you’re already rich, do you think you’d be stressed out by survival? Of course not. You are already prosperous as of right now ^o^v It is safe to focus on just one thing at a time. Your time is unlimited! It is safe to work or do anything at a pace that’s sensible to you.
full moon self-care🔻🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘
Red Astronomer (Johannes Kepler) & Priestess of Energy
Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸
☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.
Pile 3 – Your Sandcastle Turning into Ice Castle
subliminal: revenge of the gifted by lanaes
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dream – 3 of Cups
For a while now, you’ve been building a castle on sand. It wasn’t that you were stupid to do so, it was that you didn’t have any other material but sand. You were dealt bad cards in Life and still you did the best you could with what you knew, because you just had to. Because it’s in the nature of you to be building a castle of wonders. Because you made a promise before you were born here. And you were born with so many talents and such intelligence…
Of course you would be disappointed in the peasant Reality you were part of. You couldn’t understand why most people had such low expectations of themselves. If anything, you couldn’t understand why most people viewed themselves so lowly either. You had a regal essence in you since you were a child, and so many people’s ceilings were literally your FLOOR! Your barest minimum is literally the ceiling many people struggle to reach.
So you had to sketch a new Reality from scratch. And you did all of that almost all by yourself. Possibly guided by the inspiration of only your Cosmic Ancestors~♥︎
detail – 4 of Swords Rx
If this is your main pile, it seems you’ve been in some cocoon of isolation, which could’ve caused you a high degree of boredom. Feels like you’ve forever been in a healing/rehab phase but where’s the action? Sometimes you could almost taste the salt of the sea from another dimension! Your time is coming, babe~ All in Divine Timing, or should we say, Divine Alignment.
With this card in reverse, your rest period is literally almost up. Almost, but the world is still shifting frequencies until the world itself matches the Divinity you have to offer it. You’re a special op of a Soul. Everything was strategized and calculated in minute detail for you to serve your Higher Purpose. So, in essence, surprise, surprise, you’re not behind at all~☆
There is a kind of revenge you’re gonna pour unto the world. Like gasoline on the pavement. And when it finally burns… ooohhh…
digital – 6 of Wands Rx
Divine Punishment. A word I’m hearing the loudest. You’re going to swiftly carry some kind of a Divine Punishment for the evils of this world and subsequently liberate those who are innocent. If this has been your main pile, I trust that you know yourself that you’re meant to serve an audience. It’s great that we have the Internet today, right? In this era of Pluto in Aquarius, too.
The Internet is the new playground for enlightenment. Millennials and Gen Zs will resonate with this the loudest, even though plenty of Boomers are obviously also on it. If you jump into some kind of content creation—or whatever else you feel called to—which involves the usage of the Internet, you’re highly protected by the Higher Realms that want to see this world become liberated from the clutches of evil, both organic and digital.
I’m sure Pile 3 is serving a very specific type of Souls who are attracted to this aenergy. Beyond just the notion of an Ascended Master or Lightworker or Starseed… I feel like you belong to a special collective of highly-specialised ops whose name/terminology I’ve not tapped into LMAO
full moon self-care🔻🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘
Gold Physician (Hippocrates) & Priestess of Luck
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deliriousbluebird · 18 hours ago
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I remember seeing this post at the dead of night on the day it was posted and just sobbing my heart out into my mattress because it had been so long since I had been able to look at one of those normally, not counting the calories, or putting it on the food scale. The oil on the pasta, the glaze on the cinnamon rolls, all the sugar in the hot cocoa and just the amount of calories in the bread; It scared me so much that I couldn’t do anything but cry as I thought how my life was before @na. I still remembered the flavors and how beautiful the aroma was. Yet all I could think about was how I could fit it into my omad and how many oz would be less than 300 calories.
I wanted to recover, so fucking bad, but what felt even worse was thinking how much I would have betrayed myself for not getting to my goal. I felt like I had to get to my goal or else all those months going to the doctors to get those fucking tests done, all the lying to the psychiatrist, all those days of fasting and nearly passing out would’ve been for nothing.
But with all the suffering that came with it, there was still a strange comfort and beauty that came with it. Seeing the stars in English after fasting for 3 days with a blanket over me in the warmly lit room, looking at the beautiful reflection in the mirror, 3lbs away from my goal weight knowing how close this was to all ending, the light headed feeling I felt while running, feeling truly free. It made me think it was all worth it. That this small, moment in my life was beautiful, and that there was nothing better than it. There was nothing better than 🌟ving my body from the nutrition it needed, watching my face become gaunt, my ribs more bold and my collarbones stick out.
I felt so happy. But it was killing me.
I could feel myself almost rotting away, starving, laying on my back in my bad, counting away the hours until I could eat again. I had no energy, and my body hurt too much to do anything anyways. My stomach bare, my legs getting weaker and worse. As much as I wanted to be seen as beauty and perfect by everyone, as much as I wanted go be satisfied with myself, I was so scared of leaving earth.
At night, I would go through episodes, seeing everything as too large and too expansive; Incomprehensible by the mind. All I could do was pace around my room hoping that the all too familiar feeling of dread would go away. But the only way I knew it was going to go away was by recovering. By recovering I had the chance to not die young like all the doctors were saying. I hate those doctors. As much as I in my right mind would think that they probably saved my life or whatever, I just wish someone would’ve been kind.
Because in all that time suffering, no one was ever kind about it when they found out. My mom would hold me to the wall while I was hysterical, trying to get me to take the god forsaken pills. My friend told me I was being over dramatic. The psychiatrist told me I would die. I genuinely do think I would’ve began recovery sooner if someone had hugged me, telling me that everything would be okay, that no matter how much it all hurt that I would be okay soon, I would be better. A regular hug though would’ve been nice too though.
When I began to recover, it wasn’t because I wanted to get better and improve myself and my mental health and shit. It was because I was fucking petrified of what would happen to me if I didn’t. I couldn’t bare the thought of ever being admitted to the hospital with a feeding tube, the thought of ever possibly losing control to them. I think would’ve been the very last straw before I gave up on myself.
I genuinely don’t think l’ll ever see food the same again. I still see the calories in the crackers and the sandwiches and the bowls and the soup and the cereal. I just eat it anyways because I don’t want to die yet. Every now and then though, I’ll go without food for 48 hours or so to remember what I once was.
I’ll miss when I was worse.
Hot girls have a healthy relationship with food!!!
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