#i know I don’t usually post this stuff but if you can help

[celestiamour]

Any ideas on Squid game characters (esp in ho and Dae ho) x hyper feminine! Reader?

ft. kang dae-ho, hwang in-ho, cho sang-woo, se-mi, cho hyun-ju x f! reader — squid game

╰₊✧ hyper-feminine! reader┊0.6k words

contains: lots of makeup, jewelry, pink, hyper fem stuff, sugar daddy in-ho, mention of transphobia for hyun-ju’s part

➤ author's note: when will i post a real one-shot? good question

━━━ .°˖✧ kang dae-ho ˚₊ ⊹

╰₊✧ one would think that growing up with four older sisters would make him sick of all the pink and makeup, but it’s quite the opposite! he loves watching you put on your make-up, asking billions of questions about each product and your technique while also interjecting with his own surprising amount of information on the topic. he probably has the ability to do an entire face himself, but finds it a little embarrassing. he also insists that you put on little fashion shows of all your outfits of dresses and blouses acting as your biggest hype man to help boost your confidence. his sisters think you’re a doll, literally, and adore you! they love to steal you away for girls’ night and always return you to him with a basket of things they think would suit you.

━━━ .°˖✧ hwang in-ho ˚₊ ⊹

╰₊✧ you know how buying things like makeup, skincare, jewelry, and clothes can get pretty expensive? well, with him, you don’t have to worry your pretty head over any of those prices and can shop to your heart’s content! he just adores how beautiful you are all dressed up and is willing to buy you an entire store of attire that fits your aesthetic if you so please, you just have to show him with a little twirl and give him a kiss on the cheek afterward. he’s usually like a scary old guard dog with his lovers, but you soften his intimidating presence with how girlish you are, but he doesn’t exactly hate it.

━━━ .°˖✧ cho sang-woo ˚₊ ⊹

╰₊✧ acts annoyed when you have to spend extra time getting ready putting on makeup, spending your money on cute trinkets, and continuously asking him what he thinks of your usually pink outfits. he finds it excessive and sometimes inconvenient, but never vocally says anything against it because he doesn’t want to hurt the feelings he pretends he doesn’t care much about. he doesn’t admit it, but he would be gutted if you stopped living your life as a living barbie especially if it was because of him. it grows on him after a while and you’ll eventually see a glint of affection in his eyes when you’re going about your hyper-fem life. 

━━━ .°˖✧ se-mi ˚₊ ⊹

╰₊✧ loves all things girly (especially girls) even if she doesn’t like it on herself. that being said, it’s the perfect contrast to her aesthetic: smudged eyeliner with glittery eyeshadow, dark cargo pants with pink pleated skirts, gauge earrings with dangly diamond ones, combat boots with high heels, the list goes on and on. every time she sees you applying a fresh layer of lip gloss, she feels a pang in his heart like cupid’s arrow and dramatically pout that you’re too pretty for your own good. she probably wouldn’t let you do her makeup in your style, but she does let you tie little bows into her hair and will fight anyone in the thanos squad who may make fun of her for her soft spot towards you (especially nam-gyu).

━━━ .°˖✧ cho hyun-ju ˚₊ ⊹

╰₊✧ is so grateful to have you on her side helping her out because all the things associated with typical womanhood is a tad bit overwhelming to her. she was literally a sergeant in the military, so studying all things beauty is a bit of a learning curve for her, but she quickly gets the hang of it. also, matching outfits!! she’s a little embarrassed at first, especially pre-transition because she’s worried she doesn’t have the right body type, but you help give her the confidence she needs with her hand in yours and give death glares to any potential assholes before they can even open their mouth.

[mscherub]

Witchy Ways 🕸️

I took my sweet ass time with this, but I was blanking for a bit for who knows what reasons. I didn’t write like anything down for a day and then I just spewed out a whole bunch of words tonight😭, I hope it’s ok, though. Time is currently 3:09 am while posting this. I locked in ❤️

Reader is gender neutral, referred to as Prefect, Y/N, Henchhuman(by Grim), Shrimpy(by Floyd)

Warnings!:

Swearing

Uh, something catches on fire, have fun finding out <3

Half proof read, I got tired so I gave up

Word count:

3.4K

Part 1 (intro): “Alchemy Exams are…Easy?”, Part 2: “Not the Intended Outcome”, TBD

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Part 2: “Not the Intended Outcome”

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Finally! Exams are officially over and you’re able to relax for the nice weekend, ok, well, not totally relax, because you actually have to clean up ramshackle a bit, a ritual you’ve adopted for this good old decrepit dorm you proudly get to call home. Just from being out and about on campus, interacting with others and doing what you usually do on a daily basis, if you didn’t cleanse yourself and the dorm regularly, the whole vibe of the place just felt…off. Sure it’s an old place and it’s bound to be somewhat creepy you literally have ghosts living with you and severely dusty, but that doesn't really account for how disgustingly easy it is to accumulate bad energy this quickly. Possibly the use of their magic in this world and being constantly surrounded by it, or Ace and Deuce dragging it in since they insist on crashing here as much as they can when given the chance.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Music plays in the background as you clean up in the main lounge, dusting off the mantel and cleaning out the fireplace, as well as any pictures that you can reach with a feather duster you found in the attic. Use, reuse, recycle, and especially for you, beggars can’t be choosers. Slowly the place was becoming tranquil again after a while of that icky feeling of stagnant energy residing within the place was disappearing along with your efforts.

You waltz on over to the bookshelf, swaying along with the music as you dust off the shelves. You pick up a stray book laying flat on one of the lower shelves for who knows how long and you blow off the dust, swatting it away as you read the title: “Basic Spells 101.” Hm. Interesting.

Grim passes by you carrying his modified cleaning equipment, maundering about how he has to even do this, and of course, the promise you made of giving him tuna after. You can’t help but roll your eyes at the sight, but you see him eyeing something particular at the large window, hobbling over the couch and readying his supplies.

“Grim! No- no, don’t touch that, hold on.” You walk over to him as you dust your hands off on your shirt, stopping him from sweeping up the “dust” along the windowsill.

“Whadya mean stop? There’s some stuff on the windowsill, I’m just tryna be useful here, henchuman. You’re lucky I’m even helping ya!” He huffs as he puts his paws on his hips and stops the broom and dustpan in their actions. “You’re my henchuman, therefore I’m the boss so I don’t even know why I’m helping ya. I try and be nice for once and then it’s considered wrong—“

“Ok, so. How do I explain this?” you sigh as you match his posture, looking over at the perfect line of black salt that you procured a batch of just recently, deciding to put it up as an extra boost to keep out unwanted energies. A barrier. It took you long enough to get the ingredients to make it from Sam’s Shop considering your monthly funds and the rarity of some items. Finding charcoal was a little difficult…and the incense, too.

“Explain what? It’s just dust for crying out loud! You like the look of it or something?” He grumbles.

“Don’t waste your time on it, I meannnnn, yea! It’s not even visible if you don’t look over the couch. Just ignore it, kay? Yea. Alright. Splendid. Just go dust the photos off up there.” You point to the paintings above the door.

Grim pauses and lowers his paws back to his side. He glances back at the window and rolls his eyes as he turns away and floats off. “I dunno why, human, but if you're so attached to it, whatever.” he mutters, a glower look overcoming his features.

Your eyes glance over the line of black salt one last time along the windowsill. Looks intact still, not disturbed in any way, so, you get back to cleaning with a small sigh of relief, shuffling into the entrance and grabbing the broom by the front door and sweeping up what you can. You form a considerable pile of random debris in front of the door, just from the entryway alone, and you sweep it all out the door. The wind picks up at just the right time and it blows away all of the mess you pushed out, carrying it away in the wind and away from your home, rustling your clothes in the process.

”So, we done yet?” Grim floats up next to you. He purses his lips and his ears flatten against his head, annoyed at the fact you guys are even still doing this.

“Hmm? Nah, not yet. I’ve got a few other things to finish up here, but you don’t need to stick around for that. Actually, go ahead and call up Ace and Deuce to see if they’re free. I’ll join you guys at Heartslabyul or wherever you end up once I’m done.” you murmur softly, gazing at the drifting clouds in the sky.

“Really?’ he exclaims, his face lighting up instantly. “Okay! So, you really mean it?” You give him a small nod in response, and he eagerly heads off to find your phone.

“Don’t break anything again!”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

With Grim gone and out of Ramshackle for a little, you have the opportunity to finally finish your cleaning regimen in your way without the judgmental stares you know he’d give you. Smoke cleansing is bad for animals, so, at least he’s ok!

Incense is burned in all the rooms you can possibly burn it in within the dorm, leftover crystals Crewel gave you, after questioning you on why you even wanted them, were hidden back in their designated corners, fully recharged from the night before thanks to the moon. Selenite above the doorways frequently passed through, black tourmaline in the corners, and obsidian and amethyst within your room for a boost of extra cleansing energy and good restful nights for both you and Grim.

The ghosts watch from afar as you go about your list of what needs to be done, they always do. Quite frankly they find what you do to be rather odd and a little cumbersome to them due to the fact the incense makes them choke up quite a bit, but with your intentions set, they’re not the bad energies you’re getting rid of, so they can stay for now.

And just like that, with a little hard work and some rigor, Ramshackle feels like home again, being physically and spiritually cleansed. You take your last few bouts around to make sure you didn’t miss anything, and as a final touch, you add your black and white candles by the door with the protective Algiz runes etched into them and—

Ringgggg.

Your ears begin to ring, that familiar and annoying sound most people experience every now and then. But you knew the implications behind it. Someone was talking about you. Who was it, and why was your name in their mouth? Not cool…

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The weekend slips away quickly like usual, and soon enough, you're back to your daily routine during the weekdays. Wake up, drag Grim out of bed, make breakfast and eat it, make sure you have any material you could need for classes, then set off on the familiar hike up to the school.

“Prefecttttttt!” Ace calls out to you with his hands cupped around his mouth. When he notices he has your attention he smirks and walks right next to you, Deuce following along beside him on the other side.

“Ok. So. That little jar thing. How’d it work.” He instantly interrogates you. It’s seven in the morning dude…

“What—“

“The jar you made for our exams, for us at least. Anyways, how the hell does it work?”

"Um...by working?" you reply, shrugging your shoulders as a nervous look spreads across your face, betraying that you knew about it, at least.

”You said it was for good luck, right? Riddle hasn’t even yelled at me once since Friday. Now that says something!” He glares at you.

Well, that’s surprising enough on its own, but you definitely didn’t expect the spell jar to work that well. It was just a little something you did to show your gratitude, and you did make six of them.

"I've also been doing better in track, Vargas isn’t at my throat too much anymore. Oh, and speaking of Housewarden Riddle, he congratulated me for my test scores." Deuce adds, further supporting their point to get the answer they want out of you.

“Spill.” Ace crosses his arms and stops walking, staring you down. You stop and you look at both him and Deuce, Grim also positioned next to them, clearly on their side of this whole situation.

“You, too?” You stop walking as well.

“Hey, I wanna know, too, henchman. Weird things have been going on for me, too. Good things, but weird things.” He sighs.

“You guys are acting like a few good things in your life are a bad occurrence.” You rebuttal back, standing your ground.

“It’s not just a few things here and there. So long as I have the bottle on me good shit happens. Have you been lying to us about being magicless, like seriously.” He huffs yet again, making unnerving eye contact with you.

“Look. let’s talk about this some other time, we have class…” you sigh, walking off ahead and back on the path.

“Great. Now you’re dodging! Way to go Prefect…” Ace picks up his pace and walks next to you.

He continues to talk, but you just drown him out for now, not having the time, or energy for that matter, to deal with him right now. But going back to the spell jars, you put some intentions into it, sure, but not that much, just enough, or so you thought. Again, you did make six in one sitting, and the materials were limited! But if the spell jars worked that well, then…

You’re pulled out of your thoughts as you enter the classroom, your body reacting and already sitting down without you even fully processing it. Murmurs and hushed whispers spike up as soon as you sit down and students awkwardly glance your way then glance away.

“Hey.”

You turn around and you look at the student who’s sitting up a row from you, lifting a brow and staring back at him. He was another first year Scarabia student, you obviously didn't know him that well to be considered friends, only having occasionally talking during group projects, but besides that, you’ve had no other reasons to interact with him.

“Huh?”

“I heard from a group of students in the hall that you made some little jar with random stuff inside and it apparently helped your friends or whatever pass the exams. That true?” He murmurs thoughtfully as he rests his chin in the palm of his hand, staring you down. What is up with people today…

You look over at Ace, Deuce, and Grim, all of them giving you a slightly guilty look as you look right back at them contemptuously, your stare conveying a message that translates to something on the lines of “Seriously?” With a small shake of the head you turn your attention back to the Scarbia student who waits with his lips pursed.

“Yea, what about it?”

“Make me one, please? The stories that have been shared around from one of your friends is all that I needed to hear to get me sold on the Idea. let’s see…was it Epel, maybe? I mean, I don’t really know, but someone said he escaped the whiplash of his housewarden. So, if it really does do whatever others are saying it does, I’d like to get one. For my own reasons.” He instantly info dumps onto you, smiling, trying to sway you into the idea.

“I…what…dude. I’m not just gonna make you one out of the blue–”

“I’ll pay you.”

The word “pay" makes you perk up. You look at the guy, “contemplating.” In all honesty, you weren’t, for something as simple as a spell jar, and especially the one you made, getting paid for it would be a good way to make money. Maybe just have the guy pay for the supplies then- damn, you’re sounding like Azul here.

“Ok. Pay for the items to make it then I’ll do it.” You reply.

“Ok, ok, I can do that!” He smiles again and leans forward. “What do you need?”

“Um, it can vary depending on what outcomes you want. And my mood.” You shrug. He looks at you confused for a second before disregarding the whole thing and nodding.

“I want a carbon copy of the ones your friends got.” he points over at them. Seriously, this conversation has gone on for far too long, when the hell did class start again.

“Ok. I’ll write it down I guess–”

Another voice pipes up from another row up, more towards the left. “Make me one, too, Prefect. I’ll pay double if need be if you make mine have stronger effects!” the other student smiles. And before you even know it, you have a mob of jovial first years crowding around and requesting you make them a little jar, all of them interested in the idea, chanting how much they’ll pay if you make theirs first. A good way to make money still? You can't even process your own thoughts.

“Dude what the fuck–”

“Ahem! Sit down. These antics are not respectable in my classroom!” Trein comes up behind the hoard, everyone quieting down and returning to their seats without further complaint. You look up at Trein from where you’re sitting and he gives you a small, disappointed sigh, for who knows what reason. Not like you asked to be swarmed here.

Class starts with the loud bang of his heavy history books on his desk and a yawn from Lucius.

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Well, today was not how you were expecting things to go, that being, getting swamped by overly excited students who wanted nothing else besides that miracle item you gave to your group of friends. They had some right to be so excited about it, most of the first years who took the alchemy exam failed it, and of course, the main culprits at least, Ace and Deuce, had to be the blabber mouths and share this information to everyone in sight. You had third years even hunt you down in your PE class, saying the same thing as every other person who came up to you, adding on that they’ll pay, especially the more wealthier students. So, getting back to ramshackle in one piece, and sadly with a royally pissed off Grim, was a feat of its own.

“Prefect, the money that one guy just handed ya, should have taken it right then and there! Think of all the tuna!” Grim whines as he plops down on the couch.

“I wasn’t going to take it. I’ve had way too many requests and I'm just not interested in trying to keep track of anything right now.” You sit down next to him and rub your temples. At least Ramshackle still felt “clean.”

You thought peace finally was coming your way? Wrong! Your door is kicked in and a wild Floyd walks in with his hands shoved in his pockets, a little pep in his step and a grin so wide and sinister that when he looks your way you can’t even move.

“Shrimpy, Baby seal!” He hums happily as he makes a b-line right towards you, leaning down and practically scooping you up in a hug.

“Hey hey, Shrimpy. Me, Jade, and Azul decided to swing by! Wanted to have a chat!” He smiles.

“Hello, Prefect, Grim.” Jade enters in as well, more poised and refined in his, and also not actively trying to squeeze you to death. Then it struts Azul who looks rather restless and anxious, clearly having something to say.

Floyd sits you back down on the couch then invades your space once again, sitting next to you and putting his arm behind you.

“Nice of you guys to just barge in.” You side eye Floyd and slowly lean away from him.

Azul seats himself in a chair and crosses his legs, propping up his cane against the side of the seat and folding his hands to place them on his knees. He fixes his hat and then his eyes land on you.

“I’ve heard things.”

“You hear a lot of things, like, all the time.” The more you lean away from Floyd, the more he doubles his efforts to be an annoying piece of shit.

“That’s not the point. I believe you know what I came to discuss.” He sighs.

“Knowing you, business related, but I’m tired and don’t care to think or take a guess, so go on…” You look at him as you're almost completely slouched over to the side, Floyd humming quietly and still moving closer.

“I've heard talk of an item you made, specifically for the first years. Though, I’ve heard that you’ve been getting a fair share of offers for producing this said item for other students to use.” He shifts in his seat and sits up more, pushing his glasses up and uncrossing his legs.

“I gathered that there were only good things, saying it brought luck. I don’t quite understand how a simple jar could engender such effects.” He narrows his eyes, and, yea, you knew where this was going to go.

“I’d like to make a deal—“

“No.”

The room falls silent and Azul’s shoulders slump down, Jade smirks and continues to stand at the door ominously, and Floyd ignores what’s going on and continues to be Floyd.

“No deals. I don't think I’ll take up any offers from anyone anyways, the jars don’t really mean that much. And I don’t have time.”

“Then let me take the workload off your hands and make these jars myself! Shall I fabricate a contract for an agreement? I’ll take the recipe needed to make it, and you…I’ll consider what you can get. Do we have a deal?” A golden contract is magiced into existence with one flick of his magic pen.

You shake your head almost enthusiastically. “No.”

Azul’s eye twitches just slightly, his resolve slipping.

“Why waste such an opportunity, Prefect?”

You push yourself up off of the couch and glare at Floyd one last time.

“Excuse me for a minute…”

you excuse yourself, pushing past Jade. For fucks sake, who does Azul think he is for pulling this.

“You can’t run from your problems, Prefect.” Jade chuckles. wtf, thanks?

You walk through the entryway and into the kitchen, grabbing water. Slowly, you retrace your steps and you go back to the front door and flip your broom upside down, the handle touching the floor.

“I swear, get these fuckers- sorry, very nice gentleman, out of my house.” You huff to yourself before you head back into the lounge.

“Answer is still no.”

“I can change your mind. You see, if you’d take a look at the contract then you’d see there’s no grey areas—“

Azul’s phone buzzes in his pocket and with a swift motion he slips it out and answers the call.

“Hello? Hmmm…ok. Alright- WAIT WHAT?!” A look of horror instantly crosses over his face and the golden contract disperses into the air as he swiftly gets up. You think that’s the fastest you’ve seen him move.

“The kitchen is on fire at the lounge. I leave people to do one simple job and they fail to even perform it correctly.” Jade looks equally surprised as he follows along behind Azul, and Floyd, guys, cmon, it’s Floyd, what do you expect? shrugs and gets up calmly, looking down at you.

“Playdates over.” He pouts. “Careful, Prefect.” He winks and follows out behind him.

…

…

That…works, you suppose? That’s not what you were expecting. But…they’re gone at least. Grim slowly turns to look at you and blinks a few times before he throws his paws up and floats away without any further comment. You get up yourself and you go and light the two candles by the front door since the unwanted guests have finally left. White for purification, and black for warding.

It’s about time you invest in some good luck yourself. Maybe the equestrian club could have something for that…

And done! Thanks for reading, my lovelies, and again I’m sorry for taking forever. I just remembered I have an exam tomorrow…maybe I should make a good luck spell jar—

Also wanna add a quick thank you to @fatally-incorrect for letting me yap and also giving me ideas ❤️

Master list

Please don’t steal or copy any of my work! You may, however, reblog if you’d want to!

Pictures belong to Disney Twisted Wonderland but are edited by me :)

[freedom-of-fanfic]

A little good news: the dam that overflowed (Lake Lure) is now considered stable and emergency repairs can commence. The dam did not fail.

But everything else that could fail has failed, and will continue to get worse before it gets better. Relief efforts & donations are invaluable.

we go through this every hurricane season but the way people will find any excuse to point the finger at the victims of natural disasters and say cruel shit like "fuck around and find out" like it's not horrifying having to leave behind your home and all your belongings and potentially your pets with the full knowledge that there might not be anything to come back to after... ignoring that there are people that don't have a car or the money to evacuate, ignoring disabled people who have no way to get out, ignoring people that can't find places for their pets to shelter, ignoring people that have medical equipment that can't be moved or replaced, etc... and even if someone stays behind solely because they want to, they still don't deserve to suffer.

as someone who worked extensively in disaster response previously, it is not easy to "just" evacuate, and the relief that comes afterwards is intentionally difficult to obtain. and already the forces that be are trying to spin this narrative that the victims are at fault, to put the blame on them so that if (probably when) people are forced to resort to looting (because the aid never comes) everyone will nod and agree that they're all bad people and deserved it... rather than acknowledging the fact that there was no attempt to make the evacuation accessible and safe for everyone, no guarantee that aid will be waiting for them when they return to a home that has been swept away... no empathy for the fact that these people's entire lives are potentially destroyed with no safety net to catch them.

[lulu2992]

Thank you, Tumblr, for rectifying my follower count last month and finally removing all those “ghost bots” from October 2019 ♥

The few of you whose names are hidden in the list aren’t included in the displayed number anymore either, unfortunately, but at least I know who you are and that you’re real :)

[fappellmoan]

i mean it’s just kinda crazy cause. and forgive me if i sound somewhat spoiled here but. this trip im doing to take more credits and get experience and make connections etc is obviously expensive and i talked abt it with my parents. a lot before trying to do it. and somehow my dad didn’t understand that yk we would have to pay for it. ??? and is putting me in this spot of ‘figuring out what we’re gonna do about it’ and it’s like dude. i mean i’m going i paid for my fucking flights you know i’m. regardless i’ll be there. and i make $10/hr i have not been able to work consistently and when you don’t have thousands and thousands of dollars just sitting there accumulating more interest it doesn’t fucking last. like what exactly do you want me to say? i’ll drain all my accounts and give what little i have to you? tldr my main point here is the only way this man truly shows any kind of affection is through money and since he fucked me up im glad to take advantage of that lol like why wouldn’t i. so to have it thrown back in my face is just um an awful feeling. like im not even worth this to you. this is just too much. it truly does feel like someone put a number on love and im just not up there

[lagfestival]

in happier news song because trying to get back into rp space with a casual one

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~

[physalian]

How to make your writing sound less stiff

Just a few suggestions. You shouldn’t have to compromise your writing style and voice with any of these, and some situations and scenes might demand some stiff or jerky writing to better convey emotion and immersion. I am not the first to come up with these, just circulating them again.

1. Vary sentence structure.

This is an example paragraph. You might see this generated from AI. I can’t help but read this in a robotic voice. It’s very flat and undynamic. No matter what the words are, it will be boring. It’s boring because you don’t think in stiff sentences. Comedians don’t tell jokes in stiff sentences. We don’t tell campfire stories in stiff sentences. These often lack flow between points, too.

So funnily enough, I had to sit through 87k words of a “romance” written just like this. It was stiff, janky, and very unpoetic. Which is fine, the author didn’t tell me it was erotica. It just felt like an old lady narrator, like Old Rose from Titanic telling the audience decades after the fact instead of living it right in the moment. It was in first person pov, too, which just made it worse. To be able to write something so explicit and yet so un-titillating was a talent. Like, beginner fanfic smut writers at least do it with enthusiasm.

2. Vary dialogue tag placement

You got three options, pre-, mid-, and post-tags.

Leader said, “this is a pre-dialogue tag.”

“This,” Lancer said, “is a mid-dialogue tag.”

“This is a post-dialogue tag,” Heart said.

Pre and Post have about the same effect but mid-tags do a lot of heavy lifting.

They help break up long paragraphs of dialogue that are jank to look at

They give you pauses for ~dramatic effect~

They prompt you to provide some other action, introspection, or scene descriptor with the tag. *don't forget that if you're continuing the sentence as if the tag wasn't there, not to capitalize the first word after the tag. Capitalize if the tag breaks up two complete sentences, not if it interrupts a single sentence.

It also looks better along the lefthand margin when you don’t start every paragraph with either the same character name, the same pronouns, or the same “ as it reads more natural and organic.

3. When the scene demands, get dynamic

General rule of thumb is that action scenes demand quick exchanges, short paragraphs, and very lean descriptors. Action scenes are where you put your juicy verbs to use and cut as many adverbs as you can. But regardless of if you’re in first person, second person, or third person limited, you can let the mood of the narrator bleed out into their narration.

Like, in horror, you can use a lot of onomatopoeia.

Drip Drip Drip

Or let the narration become jerky and unfocused and less strict in punctuation and maybe even a couple run-on sentences as your character struggles to think or catch their breath and is getting very overwhelmed.

You can toss out some grammar rules, too and get more poetic.

Warm breath tickles the back of her neck. It rattles, a quiet, soggy, rasp. She shivers. If she doesn’t look, it’s not there. If she doesn’t look, it’s not there. Sweat beads at her temple. Her heart thunders in her chest. Ba-bump-ba-bump-ba-bump-ba- It moves on, leaving a void of cold behind. She uncurls her fists, fingers achy and palms stinging from her nails. It’s gone.

4. Remember to balance dialogue, monologue, introspection, action, and descriptors.

The amount of times I have been faced with giant blocks of dialogue with zero tags, zero emotions, just speech on a page like they’re notecards to be read on a stage is higher than I expected. Don’t forget that though you may know exactly how your dialogue sounds in your head, your readers don’t. They need dialogue tags to pick up on things like tone, specifically for sarcasm and sincerity, whether a character is joking or hurt or happy.

If you’ve written a block of text (usually exposition or backstory stuff) that’s longer than 50 words, figure out a way to trim it. No matter what, break it up into multiple sections and fill in those breaks with important narrative that reflects the narrator’s feelings on what they’re saying and whoever they’re speaking to’s reaction to the words being said. Otherwise it’s meaningless.

—

Hope this helps anyone struggling! Now get writing.

[cursingtoji]

the cardio machine i want is on the cardio machine

cw: gym rat toji x loser!gf - size kink, sweat kink (?), toji is a big old meanie. loser!gf series: geto gojo nanami.

loser!reader who, like a million other sedentary people on new year’s eve, said “new year new me” and proceeded to enroll at the local gym.

gym rat!toji who knew how things are in the beginning of the year, so the first week he arrives one hour earlier than usual to avoid all the lazy fucks that won’t last two months.

of course he makes a few mental bets on the ones that would quit and how long it would take, you included.

it’s easy to spot the “i don’t want lift weights cause i don’t want look jacked” type of girl.

at the breaks between one set and the other he looked around, not surprised to see you slowing down the treadmill after running not even two whole minutes.

sometimes he caught you staring at him through the mirror, not an uncommon occurrence amonst the women there, though you surprised him one day by tapping his shoulder after he finishing his weighted squats.

“can you… give me a few tips?” he looked so intimidated, from up close his shoulders looked like a wall, he stared at you from above, dark green eyes seemed to be heavily judging you, “never mind this was a bad idea, sorry” you turned around, grabbing you bottle and running off the gym.

by the time you managed to gather the courage to show your face back there two whole weeks had passed.

“consistency is the key you know” you were distracted looking down your phone while slowly walking the treadmill when the handsome man appeared beside you, the sudden presence destabilized you.

before you could become the viral video of the week when inevitably a gym employee decides to post the security footage of your ass rolling off the active treadmill, toji wrapped one big arm around your waist and pulled you to the stable floor.

“you caught me off guard the other day” he said completely unfazed by saving you from a life of embarrassment, “then you disappeared.”

“yeah i didn’t know if i wanted to come back anyways, i haven’t see any results so far” you pulled the hem of your shirt down.

toji snorted, “‘course you ain’t seeing results, sweetheart, you don’t lift.”

“well, it’s hard…” toji rolled his eyes, there was always an excuse.

though he also did a new year’s resolution of being more patient, for his kids primarily but teaching a cute thing like you could be a good exercise too.

soon enough, toji was correcting your form, texting you asking why you haven’t showed up to the gym and ringing your bell incessantly when you complained about muscle pain and said you wouldn't go that day.

“it’ll feel better once you start to move” he explained, resting on your door frame when you opened the door on your pajamas.

“let me alone, just today” you whined.

“you asked for my help now go put on something without cartoons on it” he waited for you to turn around and slapped your butt. it had been only one week he was coaching you but there was already a weird intimacy due to the fact he was pretty much always looking at your body and touching you.

to correct your form. obviously.

"what do i have to do today, coach fushiguro?" you asked from your bedroom through an ajar door which allowed toji to get a peek at your pink underwear and cute ass.

"cardio, bicycle first. get some blood flowing on those sore muscles" he tilted his head and raised his eyebrows watching you bend over to grab a biker shorts at the lowest drawer then holding back a laughter at the grunt of pain coming from you.

"once it gets better i can teach you other types of cardio" he walked around your kitchen examining your cabinets and stuff you kept in your fridge. needless to say it was all junk.

"can't wait" you replied sarcastically, failing to understand the meaning.

it took a few more days till you got used to toji's training, then he decided to focus on your upper body.

"such a simple movement, how do you manage to get that wrong?" he raised from the bench he was sitting behind you watching your form through the mirror. you almost dropped the weights at your feet when he came close. it was almost scary how much bigger than you he was especially seeing it throght the mirror. his right hand wrapped around yours on the dumbell and his bicep touched your arm as he pushed your arm closer to your body, "tuck your elbows in, straight your back" his free hand pushed your shoulders till they were touching his chest.

how come he smelled so good, so... musky and...

"are you even making any force?" he lowered his head, his reflection looking annoyed. so you decided to ignore the sudden heat between your thighs and flex your arm the way he taught you.

and just like he promised, when you were consistent enough and handling a good 5 minute run he decided to show you a more pleasing cardio.

"toji please~" you whined, thighs burning from riding him, you were using his rock hard abdomen as a support, but still.

"one more minute, come on" he looked at the watch on his wrist and slapped your ass, "haven't i prep-ed you good enough?" his thumb rubbed your bottom lip then pushed in meeting your tongue, where you tasted yourself in his digits one hour after he ringed your bell and said he was going to reward your good discipline, but he had to strech you first.

"good girl" you felt his abdomn flex when he raised from his laying position on your bed, "now leave it to daddy" he pecked your lips and quickly changed positions, putting a pillow under your ass and rolling his neck to start his cardio of the day.

[cathnospam]

Posttimeskip/Canon!Bakugo Katsuki NSFW Alphabet

Thanks for 100 follows :-P

(((Black girlfriend reader mentioned a few times, if you are not black or a girl you can obviously ignore it.)))

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

You were his first everything so with that you wanted to teach him just a few things like aftercare. However, Bakugo already had to down to a science. He didn’t like sleeping in sweat and cum so he’d offer you to take a shower while he puts new sheets on the bed and he joins you a little later. He noticed how thirsty you get after so he’d bring a water bottle and some juice/tea, maybe even a sweet snack if you don’t fall asleep too soon. A lot of this stuff was common sense except the cuddle part. It’s not like he didn’t want to hold you after it was just awkward for him. He just had you cross eye’d and crying on his dick now you him to be held and babied? But after some reassurance that you definitely do and you also wanted to make sure if you did good. “Of course you did dumbass you always do.” Is what he could huff out hearing such nonsense.

Post nut clarity Bakugo is softer, more touchier somehow and quiet. He’d much rather hear your yapping and he just responds with “Yeah.” “Of course” “No. dumbass” with a lot of kissing in between of course

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Yeah we all know he loves ass. He does, shamelessly so, smacking it while eating you out, smacking it when your back is faced him, patting it while you lay on his lap . But he loves your lips just as much. They’re like pillows, bouncy, and incredibly soft. It’s like a sweet flavor as well knowing you always have different types of lipgloss to wear.

I don’t think he is very particular of any part of his body, but since dating you, you love to talk about his back and arms, the way you hug him from behind or grab onto his arm walking through a crowd. More importantly how you scratch his back when he’s inside you and claw his shoulders when he keeps overstimulating you. It’s become partial motivation to his workout now.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Bakugo actually practices safe sex 90% of the time. He isn’t prepared to have any children yet and he doesn’t want any scares so he does at least buy the ULTRA thin condoms. However. The day you finally let him w/o a condom for his birthday he almost came faster than usual which actually made him upset LMAOO.

“What the—F-FFUCK!”

“Y-Y’ok—“

“I AM!…just…fuck this feel good.”

So he will cum in you or on your ass, and smack it with his dick because he seems clean but he’s such a dirty bastard at heart.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He doesn’t keep many secrets from you but the few are really only justified. The first one was that when you both were making out for the first time you grinded against his semi hard dick and he let out a soft moan in your mouth. You never pointed it out but it sounded so hot and it almost threw him off because he never made that noise before. After that, for the next few months before you both finally had sex he thought of that feeling alone to get off when masturbating. Not his finest moment but he couldn’t help it.

He likes when you pull his hair but you only did it once and he’ll be damned if he asks you to do it again. Do it again

Another one would be when you and him were just talking and not having sex yet he used to only watch porn where the people looked similar to you. So he’d sometimes type up Asian guy x black girl or some shit. He was actually using it to mentally prepare himself for when he does fuck you and it’s something he isn’t ready to ever tell you because he knows getting sex advice from porn is absolutely terrible.

Speaking of getting prepared he also asked Kiri for some advice on how to eat you out. Bakugo used to watch a lot of oral sex videos and honestly he really was most nervous about that part, he’s aware he wasn’t the best kisser at first and the last thing he wanted to do was bite you or something so he simply asked his best friend that loss his virginity before him the question: “Where is the clit?”

He swore Kiri to secrecy to never speak of that conversation again after that.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

A virgin up until he dated you. Like I said you’re his first everything so teaching him was actually something you were expected to do, however his pride always got the best of him so when you corrected him he’d always get pissy.

“My clit is here—“

“I fucking know that.”

So instead of verbally telling him what to do you you showed him with your body, moaning louder when he hits or licks the right spot, praising him when he uses the right move. He caught onto this quick and by the time it was the 2nd round he was damn near perfect

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

A lot of people say backshots but I personally think Lotus and honorable mention is missionary Hear me out: Bakugo gives vanilla. He just does he doesn’t need all the special positions and areas to fuck he just wants you, him, and a comfortable surface preferably a bed or couch. He doesn’t want to be perceived as some sex freak or anything he is very simple when it comes to sex. Mostly because he’s so shy but won’t admit it.

The Lotus Position is something that actually overwhelms him in the best way possible. Your foreheads touching, your breast pushed up against his as he assist your push to keep grinding and bouncing against him, FUCK does he love the noises you make in his ear when you’re close too, biting him as you cum. He kisses you a lot too to swallow some of your sounds. How your hands creep onto his neck moaning his name. Plus he is squeezing your ass as you both move in sync. He loves it.

Missionary is almost a ties in because he feels he has the most control. Yeah he can be soft but he still loves to be in charge. He likes the intimacy that comes with these positions so best believe it’s a go to.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Unintentionally. He has always been so funny to you, but he likes it believe he is serious during sex. Yet you can’t help but giggle when he makes a comment about blaming you for making him get so close to cumming.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He has a visible happy trail. Doesn’t grow much so he never needs to trim it, he was going to cut it off the day after you had sex with him the first time and you were able to stop him. Bakugo wanted to make his pelvic area smooth for you because he was worried his hair was itchy to you, once you explained it felt good to feel it on your pussy when he fucked you he haven’t touched it since.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Well….he can try. You can tell when he tries but bless his heart he is so damn aggressive on accident. He once tried to give you a massage but his own sweat mixed with the oil cause his hand to slip so much to the point he got mad and pop a small explosion on your lower back.

You still have the small burn mark and laugh at it from time to time. He doesn’t laugh though he regrets it a lot.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He masturbates…often. He has for years and even after graduating high school he only did it every other day or week when he was really tense or couldn’t sleep. But ever since he got with you it stopped.

Because you do it for him.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

He’d tell you he doesn’t have any. Which is half true.

He is pretty vanilla, BUT from the last few times you tried something new you noticed he enjoyed a couple things:

Overstimulation is always fun, he used to do it on accident. Now, it’s almost expected to happen after oral or penetrative sex. Something about that second orgasm really puts him in a whole ‘ other cloud 9 he can’t even explain. It’s the rarest times he’s ever selfish with you sexually.

Praise Kink 100000%. It’s so funny to see the frustrated look on his face of focusing to not cum when you’re in his ear telling him how amazing he is and how nobody else could make you feel this way. Gets him hard every time.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He does enjoy the bed, but he has a huge couch in his dorm, he ate you out a few times during a movie and it led to you on top riding him. It felt so cozy falling asleep after that now 90% of the movie nights y’all have in his dorm leads to something not so wholesome.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

You.

Your reactions, your twitches, your moans, the way you say his name it all drives him more to keep going and practicing to get better for you. He absolutely loses his MIND the way you cry out for him too.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He will not ever do anything like humiliation or too much violence like slapping your face. He knows he can be abrasive as it is on accident and even the thought of going to far and harming you would possibly cause him to take a pause on sex no matter how much he loves it

I am 50/50 on somno. I believe he wants you alert to what he’s doing to you for his own peace of mind. But he wouldn’t be opposed to him waking up to YOU touching him.

He’s not a big fan of “daddy”, he won’t stop what he’s doing but he’d rather hear his name or “baby” or even a nickname you made out of his name.

You will not peg him. He is very sensitive about his ass.

No threesomes or anybody watching. Call him selfish, but your body is his in his mind so he’d prefer if nobody sees what you have only blessed him with.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

LOVES giving. Way more than he will admit, there has been days where he’d finish sparring with someone and to release the stress he had from Deku almost beating his ass again he came to your dorm and offered to lay between your thighs as you studied.

You didn’t get much studying done.

He’s improved on his skill too. However he’s constantly messy, it’s not just kitten licks with this man he sucks and fingers and even nibbles on you like he’ll never eat you again. It’s almost selfish.

He loves the feel of your pussy against his tongue, he doesn’t taste much. If you were to ask him what you taste like he would say nothing, really but the warm, slimy slick just does something to him. If he could he’d eat you for hours

Now that doesn’t mean he doesn’t love seeing you gag and swallow his dick absolutely not. When you both started getting more physical you actually sucked his dick quite often (since he was afraid to eat you out at the time) he would actually anticipate on it whenever you both were alone so he’d keep his sweats incredibly low to his waist on purpose

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Bakugo an intense guy so he starts off slow and his touches gradually turn more focused towards your reactions. He’s consistently looking into your eyes with every noise you make, each thrust is deep and nearly knocks the wind out of you. It’s not until he’s close he begins to chase that high, breathing into your mouth, circling your clit w his fingers, and going faster with slightly shallow thrusts.

He’s a big kisser btw so be prepared for little to no air because if he’s not kissing your low lips he’s kissing your upper lips with each thrust swallowing your cries

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Hates em.

The idea is always fun to him but when he realizes he has to stop right when he’s getting started he hates it. He wants to take his time. He probably enjoys foreplay the most which is why he can’t stand having to make it short.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Bakugo is pretty stubborn and doesn’t like too much change but if you’re willing to reassure him about what you want he may consider. It can’t be any of the no though.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Man can last a while. He can even if he’s sensitive, but he can last EVEN LONGER in between breaks. Just as long as you cock warm him. An average night of sex with him is usually 30-35 minutes, but including foreplay is actually an all day thing. Foreplay can start from the moment you wake up and he’s kissing you good morning all the way to that evening when you both are showering together and his fingers are creeping between your thighs

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Doesn’t understand toys but if you’re willing pick like a vibrator he wouldn’t mind it. You just can’t use it too much, he has read those things can fuck up your sensitivity and he’ll be DAMNED if he loses to a TOY

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Bakugo actually wasn’t that much of a teaser until you brought it out of him. When he went down on your once he kept kissing and biting your thighs for WAY too long that you began to whine his name. Once he heard that pretty little “please” slip through your tongue something just snapped. He loves to hear you beg now so occasionally he’ll edge you or tease you a bit before giving you what you want.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He’s not that loud. A few mumbles of your name and a couple groans is the most you’ll get because he wants to hear you more. When he’s close he’ll begin to say a few “cum with me” “cum for me’s” which is so hot to hear since his voice breaks when he’s cumming

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He learned sign language through out the years after finding out his hearing was becoming worse and he taught you as well. Now you both communicate in public through SL, and a few times he said the nastiest shit to you across the room during a lecture.

Bonus: He’s a big Pokémon nerd. Loves Gengar, Charizard, and Growlithe.

Bonus two: He has a secret tattoo he got when he turned 21

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Bakugo is a more length than girth guy. He’s a shower and cut. About 7.8ish inches and it curves to the left. He also had a beauty mark on the left side of his shaft and pelvic area.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Y’all have sex about 4-5 times a week. If yall miss a week spike it up to 6 because he needs to release some stress

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

You fall asleep before him so after taking care of you and cleaning you up he usually waits until you’re sleep and follows suit. Sometimes when you’re still yapping and he’s ready to go to bed he’ll gently fan your eyelids to close with his fingers. Somehow it works everytime and you slowly stop talking a dm cuddle in his chest.

[sooniebby]

ఌ 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

꧁ 𝙎𝙖𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙪 𝙭 𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 ꧂

w.c. › 3.8k

Plot › you end up winning a call to a camboy/sex worker, you watch a lot!! Though it’s a bit embarrassing learning you’re one of the few men in his usual audience. Based off this.

Warnings › gojo a bit cocky sometimes—this takes place in a normal world. Reader is 19, gojo is 25. Some… straight stuff mentioned cuz gojo fucks a girl during his streams, bi gojo agenda!!

Kinks › praise, size kink, (attempts at) dirty talk…

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

: ̗̀➛

𝘾𝙤𝙣𝙜𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙨 𝙤𝙣 𝙬𝙞𝙣𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜

𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙫𝙞𝙙𝙚𝙤 𝙘𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝

𝗦𝗶𝘅𝗲𝘆𝗲!

↳ ᴄʟɪᴄᴋ ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇ

: ̗̀➛

No way. You just gasped in your coffee shop, literally as your coworker was calling for you to serve a cake to someone.

You were never a lucky person. Most and every thing you ever entered in a prize to win something, being money or an item, you never won. Never, not once. You had assumed you just was an unlucky guy in those type of things.

So when you applied for the giveaway for the chat, you did it just cause.

And you won!

You fucking won.

“(Name) if you don’t hurry up and serve this poor lady her cake!” Your coworker, Nobara screamed.

You rushed out with the cake and quickly gave the girl it, ignoring the glare she gave you for being so rushed. That didn’t matter! You had to tell Nobara. You practically sprinted to her and dragged her to the employee lounge.

“What is your problem?” She asked, pulling her arm away from your tight grip. “It’s like you were trying to rip my arm off…”

“Look, look!” You shoved your phone in her face, earning a tight glare as she snatched it out of your hands. Her eyes glanced over the screen as she mumbled to herself, reading the message. It took about thirty seconds before she seemed to understand what the fuck she was reading.

“Seriously? You got a free call with your favorite pornstar?” She placed your phone on the countertop and shuffled over to the fridge.

“You don’t understand! I hardly ever win giveaways!”

Nobara glanced back at you. “Okay, same here. Are you alright, (Name)? Are the toys not enough?” She asked with a fake sense of pity.

You glared at her. “The toys are just fine!”

“Sure, sure. Well, what do you get from the win?”

“Uh, a free thirty minute private chat.”

“She’s also a camgirl?”

“No… it’s a camboy.”

Nobara blinked. “Oh. So it’s a gay camboy.”

“Also.. no… he’s only fucked women on the videos he posted on Twitter..”

Nobara sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose. “Let’s hope he’s not going to be upset a dude just won his giveaway.”

You panicked slightly, “wait, you think he’ll be upset?”

“Maybe not. But if I were you, I’d make sure to not show my face on camera or speak on the mic.” She said, patting you on the back before leaving the lounge.

Any sort of happiness basically dwindled. She was right. You didn’t know this guy and while realistically, he can’t do anything to hurt you… He could end up getting angry and disgusted you won his call when the majority of his fan base has always been women.

Reaching over, you grabbed your phone and looked at the email, wondering if it’d be worth it. Just as you were about to email back that you couldn’t do it—you got a text message on your Twitter.

𝙎𝙞𝙭𝙚𝙮𝙚 𝙨𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖 𝙢𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙖𝙜𝙚 :

↳ Did you get the email?

You fainted.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

“You boys are so overdramatic.”

You can hear Nobara judging you. You feel the soft winds of someone fanning you, your head resting gently on their legs. With hesitance, you open your eyes, the harsh fluorescent lights blinding you.

Oh, it’s just Inumaki and Megumi.

Inumaki was the one holding your head on his lap while Megumi lazily fanned you with a makeshift paper fan. Megumi rolled his eyes once he noticed you were awake, moving to get up from the floor.

“Good?” Megumi asked, holding his hand out as he helped you get up.

‘We found you on the floor,’ Inumaki signed, getting up as well. ‘What happened?’

You pursed your lips, unsure if you wanted to tell them that you got shocked that a pornstar you’ve been following for over a year now messaged you. Nobara was heard stifling with laughter in the corner.

You quickly, and messily, signed that you were fine back to Inumaki. “Uh, just felt lightheaded. Y’know how the AC isn’t working well anymore.”

“Like those toys.” Nobara suddenly said.

‘Toys?’ Inumaki signed.

“You know what I mean, that emo boy of yours must use them too,” she said, ignoring the sudden blush on Inumkai’s face. Megumi groaned and moved to get his apron to begin his shift.

“Shut it, Nobara.” You whispered, glaring at her. She simply shrugged, smirking gleefully at the embarrassment she was bringing to you. You slipped out of your apron and placed it back, grabbing your bag as you began to clock out.

Inumaki and Megumi usually took over once you and Nobara were finished.

As you and Nobara left the cafe, she grinned mischievously at you. You looked straight ahead, not wanting to entertain her teasing.

“So, it couldn’t have been the email that you made you pass out like that. What was it?”

“Nothing.”

“Bullcrap!”

With a swiftness, your phone in your back pocket was gone. She easily dodged you as she began checking your phone, trying to see what had caused your fainting spell. Once she checked your notifications, she barked out a laugh.

“Oh he practically wants you! ‘Did you get the email?’ So desperate already,” she snickered, beginning to type something on your phone.

“Nobara?!”

After hitting send, she pushed your phone to your face, showing what she had just sent him.

𝙢𝙤𝙤𝙣𝙞𝙚𝙗𝙪𝙣𝙣𝙞𝙚

↳ yes!!! <333

↳ Sorry, I was just so shocked I won!!!

What time are you thinking about?

“Mooniebunnie? What type of username…”

“I made it when I was like fourteen! Don’t judge.”

“Jeez, you’ve been on Twitter that long?”

“Nobara!!”

“Oh he responded.”

“Hah?!”

𝙎𝙞𝙭𝙚𝙮𝙚

↳ took you long enough.

↳ Saturday, 9 pm. I’ll only wait 5 minutes

↳ after the 30 minutes, you’re paying.

“Dick. The fucks his problem?”

“What’d he say?”

“You’d think he’s the one taking the dick up his ass.”

“Nobara..!”

“What? You can’t tell me this doesn’t come across as rude?”

She began typing for you again.

𝙢𝙤𝙤𝙣𝙞𝙚𝙗𝙪𝙣𝙣𝙞𝙚

↳ just don’t disappoint me, 4 inch

↳ kisses <3

“Nobara?! What the hell?!”

“Hey, he started it. Anyway, your date is in two days. Good thing you don’t have a roommate anymore.”

You glared at her as she handed you back your phone. He didn’t seem to text back after that—only having a note that he certainly did read Nobara’s text. But to him, it was your text.

Gosh, you really didn’t want him to hate you.

But Nobara was right, he did seem a bit rude over text. Maybe he just texts a bit harsh but in person is nice.

Though it honestly felt you were creating excuses in your head at this point.

After splitting ways, you made it home to your small apartment. It was comfortable enough so you didn’t complain. Especially since it was in a good area. Nobara and her roommate, Maki, weren’t so lucky in the area they lived in.

Though it seemed like the burglaries that were happening there had finally slowed down.

Decorated in second hand items and anything you stole from your ex boyfriend and mother, your apartment was homey enough. The good thing was that you got an amazing view of the sunset in your room every afternoon.

The kitchen, dining, and living room was essentially just one full room. You had a foldable table to bring out whenever you ate dinner. Your tv was taken from your ex boyfriend, which was why it was so brand new compared to everything else.

You only have two other rooms. The master bedroom with an attached bathroom, and a small, small bedroom. You practically just made it an extra closet space because it was just too cramped to be in there for long period of times.

Especially with the fact it only had a small tiny square window all the way close to the ceiling.

It was after 8 p.m. when you plopped down onto your bed, finishing your daily home tasks. Washing the dishes, warming up dinner, watching a BL drama while crying in loneliness, and now—masturbation time.

You scrolled your phone, wondering if you should wank it out to some random twitter videos or go to the cam website.

Just as you were about to pull up your list of comfort gay videos, a notification rang on your phone.

𝙎𝙞𝙭𝙚𝙮𝙚 𝙥𝙤𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙙 ➤ ❝a creamy fill❞

Your fingers moved lightning speed. A bit embarrassing, really. Slipping off your boxers, you reached over and grabbed your lube, squirting a good amount on your fingers.

Despite him constantly fucking girls—you always watched. Something about him was captivating, even though you never saw his face. The girls face was almost always shown. But like always, the comments are filled with girls saying they love him.

The video started out with the girl in his lap, withering as his fingers spread her pussy open, his other hand resting comfortably on her throat. The only sliver of emotion you could see from him, was the small angle of his lips in frame.

Like always, he was smirking.

You never really enjoyed the beginning of his videos, since it focused heavily on getting the girl to cum from oral sex. Which was good for the girls—but not for you.

So, you usually focused on getting yourself ready for your dildo.

It was one you bought on a whim. But you had never meant for it to be so large, a length of seven, more so eight, inches. You would’ve thrown the thing out if it wasn’t the only dildo you had.

And there was no way you were going to go back to that sex store and get a new one.

You tuned them out for a few minutes, focusing on stretching yourself. It was always tedious, wishing it was someone else doing it for you. Just as you felt ready enough for your dildo, you finally glanced back at your phone.

The girl was now screaming, in pleasure, as he slammed his hips against her ass. It harsh and unforgiving—leaving the girl no chance to stay still. They were in a doggy style position, her face right up to the camera as she mewled and cried.

His grip was on her waist, pulling her back whenever she tried to pull away a bit in a way to slow it down.

“That’s a good girl.”

Boner gone.

You groaned. You loved hearing his voice, he sounded hot. But you hated it whenever he used that fucking word. Any type of “girl” or even more feminine terms always made you lose your boner.

There was nothing else you could really do at that point.

That’s why you mainly watched his solo streams.

With a huff, you placed your dildo back in its drawer and turned off your phone just as the girl reached her climax.

This guy was obviously straight…

You were really wondering if it’d be worth it.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

“Ready for your big day, (Name)?”

‘What big day?’

You quickly glared at Nobara, hoping she wouldn’t tell Inumaki anything. Inumaki looked a bit confused—mostly in why you were so angry.

Isn’t today supposed to be special?

“Oh, nothing. It’s just… Saturday, who doesn’t love a Saturday?”

Inumaki raised an eyebrow. ‘It’s a normal Saturday.’

“Mhm, not for our (L.Name) (Name) here.” She winked, obviously enjoying the flushed look on your face.

The entire shift was spent with Nobara making innuendos and Inumaki looking confused by the minute. It wasn’t until your shift was over, and Megumi and Itadori came, that Nobara seemed to just blurt it out to Inumaki.

“He won a call with his favorite pornstar!”

‘You have a favorite pornstar..?’

“Nobara!” You screamed, slapping your hand against her lips as she stared at you in triumph.

Looking back at Inumaki who didn’t seem to be judging you, just a bit perplexed. Which isn’t shocking. He has a fucking boyfriend—you doubted he needed to watch pornstars religiously to get his socks off.

You shrieked as Nobara licked your hand, forcing you to pull away and quickly wipe them off on your pants.

“Yeah! That’s what I said! Who has a favorite pornstar?!”

“Shut it!!”

Inumaki gave you a shrug, ‘no need to be embarrassed. We all have weird habits.’

Somehow that felt less comforting.

You signed back a thanks to Inumaki before turning your anger to Nobara. She willfully began whistling as she walked down the street, not paying you any mind.

In all honesty, you just hoped the call wouldn’t end up with you in tears.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

𝙎𝙞𝙭𝙚𝙮𝙚

↳ here’s the link.

↳ join in twenty minutes

Dick.

Nobara was right. With a huff, you set your busted laptop on the bed in front of you. It was a miracle this laptop could even come to life. As you were deep in thought, wondering if you were feeling brave enough to really join, you heard the sound of a ping.

It took a moment, but then you accepted the link, joining a private call with Sixeye.

It was his usual set up for his live streams. The sight of a wall decorated with bookshelves. You always just assumed it was an office room he had. He was dressed in a compression shirt and grey sweatpants.

Huh, he usually dressed nice for his cams because his fan girls loved seeing him in suits.

Something something daddy issues.

Guess you weren’t special enough for that.

“Guess you aren’t putting on your camera?”

You quickly typed a simple no. No way in hell were you showing this guy your face—no matter how many times you had cummed to his videos. A simple chuckle was heard. His camera was pointed solely at his chest and bottom half, his face no where in sight.

Which was natural, the most he ever showed was his lips.

Girls just went wild for a cool smirk or something.

“No requests? Usually you girls are quick to give me a whole script.” His laugh filled the room.

↳ Just act natural

You type, hoping that was enough to make him get straight into it. He was quiet for a moment, as if he was reading your text. It seemed he took your words to heart as he pulled down his sweatpants and his cock plopped out, resting against his stomach.

“Alright, just want a quick fap then.”

He reached down and rubbed his tip, teasing the slit as he slowly began jacking himself off. His cock was large, maybe around seven inches? It was similar to your dildo. His hands were big too. Gosh, everything about him was big.

He was definitely the one who helped you figure out your size kink.

The only sound by now was his soft grunts and his hand jerking off his cock. You slipped off your boxers and easily slipped in three fingers inside of yourself, having stretched it out a bit earlier. Now, you were just trying to get yourself excited.

You reached down to your laptop, moving it a bit further so you could get comfortable on the bed with more leg room. Your fingers rubbed against your prostate, teasing it just the way you wanted.

Your moans were always on the more high pitched side, almost sounding similar to a girl when you reached your orgasm. So it was something you were a bit self conscious of. But being alone in your own home, you didn’t hold back.

Rubbing against your prostate, your toes curled as you whimpered and bucked into your own hand. You tried to push back any feeling of disappointment that it wasn’t someone else making you feel this way.

“Changed your…mind, baby?”

“Ngh..?”

You opened your eyes and glanced back down at your laptop.

Oh god.

Your fucking mic was on!!!!

You screamed out, quickly clasping your mouth shut as you stared at the screen in horror. He heard you. He heard every little gasp and whimper you had made. How long had he heard you?

Why didn’t he fucking say anything?

“Screamer, huh? Noted.”

He teased. Even without seeing his face, you knew he was smirking.

“You….why didn’t you tell me?” You muttered, glaring at the screen.

But he didn’t answer. He seemed quiet for a moment. You watched as his hand stuttered on his cock. What? Did your voice sound that terrible?

“Speak.”

“Wha..?” You whispered, raising an eyebrow in confusion.

“Speak now. Loud and clear.”

You hated how authoritative he sounded. It felt like you couldn’t just no respond to his command.

“Uhm… why didn’t you tell me…?” You spoke louder, allowing your mic to pick up your voice this time. You thought maybe he just didn’t hear you.

“Shit. You’re a guy?”

With a brave face, you huffed. “Judging me?”

“No. Fucking finally.”

You felt yourself blush. He was… excited? He began stroking his cock again but this time, with more vulgarity. It was like he was actually turned on by you. You felt your own cock twitch.

Someone… interested… in you?

You grabbed your dildo that rested beside you on the bed, rubbing it against your hole. Any sort of self consciousness you felt with your moaning was thrown out the window as you didn’t hold anything back. Fuck it if you regretted it later.

Right now, you’re going to enjoy it.

As your dildo began stretching you full, you glanced at the button that would turn your camera on. This was a one time thing…

He’d never see you again…

Fuck it.

“Well aren’t you adorable..? Fuck, how big is it?”

“Seven… inches.” You whispered, feeling embarrassed about showing yourself. Your sweating body, flushed face, watery eyes, and your cock leaking on your tummy. You were glad you didn’t see his face…

So you didn’t have to know if he actually found you cute.

“Always the cute ones.” His laugh sounded strained, a soft huff following it as he continued teasing his tip. “Like it big, huh? Stretching you until you can’t take it anymore.”

“Didn’t.. mean to… get it so big.” You moaned, slowly teasing the dildo inside. Your camera was angled right between your legs, showing him the entire picture of the dildo slowly inching inside your puckered hole.

You arched your back, gasping once it finally reached its hilt, stuffing you full.

“Keep looking at the camera.”

You hadn’t even noticed you couldn’t be seen anymore. Moving around a bit, your face finally showed back on the camera. And you got a good sight of just how fucked out you looked just from a damn dildo.

“Good boy.” He whispered. “Y’know… I always put on a show for you guys—it’s time you do the same, hm?”

If you weren’t already itching for an orgasm, you would’ve ended the call immediately out of embarrassment. But you couldn’t back down now.

So, you moved to rest against your headboard, bringing in your laptop to get a good view of your face and ass. Tightening your grip on your dildo, you began thrusting it in and out, keeping a fast pace.

Your hips moved against the pace, your thoughts filled with the desire of a real cock fucking you. His hand gripping your waist, bouncing you on his cock like a toy just for his pleasure. But you had to deal with this pisspoor dildo.

The sound of squelching, your moans, and his grunts filled the room. You were so close, wishing to moan his name but no way in hell were you going to moan his fucking username.

“W…wan..na…moan..name..” you barely sputtered out, your moans betraying you whenever you tried to speak a full sentence. A cry left your throat when the dildo brushed against your prostate. You quickly made sure to continuously hit that area, your moans reaching higher in pitch.

Your orgasm was close.

You suddenly heard him grunt loudly. When you glanced at the camera, you saw his grip tighten as cum spurted onto his shirt. Did your moans…?

Not wanting to feel any misplaced confidence, you pushed the thought away. No way did your moans make him cum.

The sound of shuffling caught your attention as you saw him reach for his camera.

And then—

The camera was on his fucking face.

His lips turned up into a smirk, his eyes staring straight into yours. Blue eyes and white hair. It looked soft even though the camera.

You came.

You fucking came.

Man, maybe those girls were right about smirks being sexy…

Your toes curled as you arched your back, gripping the bedsheets as your cock came all over your stomach. The only sound left was the sound of your heavy breathing as you tried to calm down—having never orgasmed that intensely before.

“Did you… cum from seeing my face?”

He sounded so fucking cocky.

“Bye!” You yelled, slamming your laptop shut.

You totally did.

You sat in your room for about two minutes before screaming in embarrassment. No way in hell could you ever watch his streams again!!! You came!! You came from seeing his face!!

God….

That was embarrassing…

At least you would never interact with him again.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

“No way! From his face?!”

Nobara screamed laughing, her cackling echoing in the empty cafe. You could only focus on putting the cakes on display, trying to ignore the embarrassment in your heart.

“Gosh! Megumi! You heard about—”

“Don’t bring me into this.” He answered bluntly.

It had been a few days now since the… incident. You had blocked Sixeye’s account and haven’t watched any of his streams or videos ever since. It was just too embarrassing to watch them without thinking on how you came just from seeing his face.

But you kept thinking, why did he show his face?

It wasn’t like you were anything special. As the three of you continued getting the cafe ready for opening, Nobara continued making fun of you at any given chance. Megumi seemed to be in his own mind.

You had went to the back to grab some cups for the lattes and when you came back to the front, Megumi and Nobara were already speaking to some guy. He looked pretty tall, practically towering over Nobara.

But his back was facing you so you didn’t know who it was.

“Why are you even here?” Megumi asked, glaring at the stranger.

“Oh! Aren’t you Megumi’s friend?” Nobara questioned.

“Don’t insult me like that,” Megumi rolled his eyes before grunting as the stranger wrapped his arm around his neck.

“Aah~ Megumi~~ don’t be like that! I heard the cakes here were good. Can’t I try them??? Hm~?” The stranger teased, laughing slightly.

“Get off, you’re not getting a discount.”

“I didn’t say I wanted one… but now that you mentioned it~”

Nobara laughed, “no wonder you called him a blue eyed freak! He’s so annoying.”

“Megumi?!”

Megumi shrugged. “I’ve called you worse in my head. (Name), take Gojo’s order before I kick him out.”

Gojo huffed before finally turning over to face you. Your eyes widened once you finally got a good look of him. It…

Sixeye?!

The cup you were holding were slipping out of your hands as Gojo tilted his head, eyes narrowing at your face before widening in recognition. A grin appeared on his lips.

“Today’s my lucky day, huh?”

It definitely wasn’t yours.

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

Oop? Yall want a part 2? It’s so hard writing phone/facetime sex… I praise those who write it constantly lmao

Tag list: @chill-guy-but-cooler @tomoeroi @remdayz @tehyunnie @flurrina @rhetorical-conscience @kiiyoooo @iwishtobeacrow @love-kha1 @star-3214 @smellwell @ofclyde @the-ultimate-librarian @teyvat-writer

[luveline]

You mentioned in one post that bombshell!reader was furious with the team for not helping Reid with his addiction (as she should be)…. Would you maybe write about her helping him thru withdrawal or thru the cravings that follow? Maybe subtly at first, then just making sure he knew he wasn’t alone? Just some tender moments where Spencer starts to realize she actually cares about him, even if he doesn’t believe her flirting yet.

-🌕

I love every single thing you write, even for fandoms I’m not even in. You’re amazing!!

thank you for requesting my sweetheart!!! I really hope this is what you wanted, love you <3 fem!reader

cw past drug abuse

“Hi, Spencer Reid.” 

You perch on the edge of his desk with no further introduction. You’ve changed perfumes, to his immediate recognition, the rich smell of your usual parfum swapped for a less consuming scent. He detects apple blossom, and rose, the smallest hint of jasmine, a contrast to your usual vanilla and peony. The human brain can remember 50,000 scents, and Spencer can remember all of yours. Or, he could. 

“You’re not saying hi anymore?” 

“Hi, Y/N.” 

“Hi. It’s nice to see you.” You put your hand on his. Spencer isn’t sure you’ve ever touched his hand before you took it at the hospital, he’s never really let you, but he doesn’t move away. A huge winding of tension between his shoulders begins to unspool. “It’s really nice to see you, babe. I’ve missed you tons and tons.” 

He looks up tentatively. “You have?” 

“I have. I haven’t really been invited, today. I’m just here to see you.” 

“Why?” Spencer asks. 

You tighten your fingers on his hand. “Missed you. Thought maybe we should, like…” And that’s unusual, for you to use filler words, Spencer doesn’t know what to think of it. “Well, I have something to say to you, and it’s going to either sound reassuring or ridiculous.” 

“Okay.” 

You give him a withering look. “Don’t make it any easier for me.” 

He laughs. The sound alone fosters your smile. “Sorry,” he says softly, “I doubt it’ll be ridiculous.” 

“Spencer Reid, we are friends. We are. But we never do anything outside of work, so I was thinking you could come over tonight and we’d make dinner and watch TV and stuff.” 

“And stuff.” 

“I’m a bit nervous,” you confess, looking down at your lap, then quickly back up into his face, “I’m worried you won’t want to.” 

You’re kind to avoid saying what he’s sure you’re thinking; you’re worried he won’t want to spend the night with you, and instead will look down the long barrel of a small needle. Or, he thinks that’s what you’re thinking. He does it to everyone. 

“What do you want to make for dinner?” he asks. 

“What are you enjoying lately?” 

“I… I don’t know. I’m not really eating.”

“Cereal?” 

“Yes,” he laughs. “Lots of cereal.” 

You tap the wheel of his chair with your heel. You’re dressed as though you aren’t working, wearing a sweet dark dress with a starched collar and baby sleeves, stockings, and a necklace at your neck that glows with a small white crystal. You look amazing. It never makes any sense to Spencer, why you’d taken an interest in him, and why you bother now. He knows he’s hard to care for. He knows he’s making it worse. 

You look up and down his face. You must see the purple half circles beneath his eyes, the crack at the corner of his mouth, the cut he can’t stop picking on his cheek. Every time it scabs, he opens it again. One second he’s sitting there and the next he’s got blood under his fingernail. 

“Hug?” you ask hopefully. 

He goes to stand. You move in too fast and wrap your arms around him, leg slotting between his, leaning over his shoulders with a distinct sense of protectiveness. You squeeze him, a little sigh escaping you that sounds loud so close to his ear. 

“How has it been this week?” you ask quietly. 

“It’s fine.” He cups your back in his arm carefully. The other wraps tight around the small of it. He soaks you up, scared you’re gonna pull away any second. 

“How are you feeling about it? Do you need any extra help?” 

He cringes. “No,” he says. “It’s really fine.” 

“When you texted me, about the cravings? What are they like today?” 

He wishes he could breathe in the smell of your perfume and your skin and tell you they’re all better now. It would make sense; there isn’t much in his life that hasn’t been made better by your attention. He’d struggle to do this without you. You’re his only friend who actually cared enough to say the problem out loud, but you’re just a woman, you can’t work the sort of magic necessary to kick this for him. 

“Spencer?” You pull away, nudging his cheek with the back of your finger. 

“They’re okay. I’m not gonna do anything.” 

“Good, honey. I’m proud of you. I know how hard this is.” 

He bites the inside of his lip, surprised at your caring. He shouldn’t be.

“What are you two whispering about?”

You and Spencer have different reactions to Emily’s sudden question. He flinches like he’s been caught with his hand in the cookie jar and you, still vaguely pissed with everyone for not telling you Spencer was struggling and not afraid to show it, keep your eyes trained on his face. 

“Nothing,” Spencer says. 

You turn to her with a small smile. You still like her, Spencer knows. Secretly, he’s pleased you’re angry for him. It’s nice to have someone so obviously on his side. “We’re just deciding what to get for dinner.” 

“Oh, nice. Date night?” she teases. 

You press your cheek to his forehead. “Date night,” you agree, your hand unmissable where it bunches in his sweater near his heart. 

[andhumanslovedstories]

Last two shifts I worked, I had the same patients but was precepting (training) different nurses. So two nights in a row, I have a patient with a post-op complication (guts not moving) that the surgeons are taking a conservative approach to (wait and see if the gut starts moving). This treatment plan makes sense for the specifics of this patient, but that means we’re doing a lot of symptom management without directly treating the thing that’s causing the symptoms. In this case, symptoms are pain and nausea so bad that the patient said if they’d known this is how they’d feel after, they’d have skipped the surgery and just rolled the dice with what that colon polyp would do if left alone.

So we’re throwing meds at this patient, we’re walking them so their bowels can get moving, we’re giving ice chips and gum and cold wash clothes, we’re giving IV fluids (which is SUPER rare in the hospital right now because due to one of the recent hurricanes, we are critically low on IV fluids), we’re doing basically all my tricks short of putting another tube in this guy. And it’s working okay. Like we’re keeping pain and nausea just below “intolerable” but not by much.

That first night I have that patient, while I’m talking to the surgeon on the phone, my preceptee is in the room talking to the patient. I don’t get any new orders because most usual meds that would help are contraindicated in this particular circumstance. I’m feeling frustrated about that—I HATE when I can’t get symptoms significantly under control—when my preceptee comes up excitedly and says that the patient says they’re feeling much better after the therapeutic intervention my preceptor did. The intervention was hanging out in the room for 15 mins and talking with the patient about their hometown in Canada.

(Which, hell yeah. Very proud of that new nurse because she said one of the biggest things she wanted to work on was being less nervous talking to patients.)

Next night, I got the same patient, still miserable, and a new preceptee. We’ve got more meds this time, but still only marginal success with managing symptoms. I tell my preceptee, “next time you’re in the room, plan on staying and chatting with the patient for like ten minutes.” Next time we’re in the room, we do just that—we talk sports, hobbies, plans, past surgeries, how much this surgery sucks, just the three of us shooting the shit for a while before we have to go give pain meds to another patient. (It was a surgical floor. That night was mostly handing out ice packs and oxy.)

Anyway, the patient tells us that this chat has been the best they’ve felt all night. My preceptee comes out of the room, and my preceptee is like “wow that really was our best intervention.” And I get to be like “yes witness the power of chit chat as nursing intervention.”

Reflecting back, I’m grateful that the patient was so expressive about what we did that was working. I told the patient at one point, in the midst of their most acute misery, that we were going to give them everything we had available, and if that didn’t work, I had backup plans in mind. Like you might spend the night miserable, but it’s not because we didn’t keep trying stuff. And after I say that, the patient goes, “that was good, I like that you said that, that comforted me.” Which was very nice and convenient because before we’d gone into the room, I’d talked to my preceptee about how to make patients feel supported and cared for, even when none of the care we do is working. When we left after that, my preceptee was like “wow, you’re right, that really worked,” and I was like, “I KNOW, that’s cool right? I mean you always hope it works, but sometimes you just can’t tell if it actually does.”

I love really open patients, they are such fantastic teaching opportunities. For example, I had another patient both night who was also very open, specifically about what a bad job the hospital was doing and how everyone should just stay the hell out of their room. Considerably less pleasant feedback, equally valuable, about essentially the exact same situation that the first patient was in. Talking through that patient with my preceptees was also very useful and very easy, because the patient had been so explicit in their feedback.

It’s always odd training nurses because you don’t want bad things to happen to your patients, but you also need to new nurses to see bad things. And sometimes you get a patient assignment that is so good for teaching, it’s like it came from a textbook. Very convenient for me personally as a preceptor. Feels weird to say that about patients who are having absolutely miserable times, that their misery is useful to me, but (as preceptors normally say about stuff like this) if it’s happening, at least it’s happening where we can learn about it. Anyway, great couple of shifts to practice therapeutic communication.

[covenofagatha]

But you're my stepmom! (Part 10)

Word count: 2600+

Warnings: oral, bathroom sex, strap-on, smut, mommy kink, little bit of angst at first

Author's note: so sorry this took so long to post lol things have been crazy

Taglist (hope I didn't miss anyone, and if I did, I'm so sorry!): @stayevildarling@i-just-cannot@hazey-g@buttercandy16@320viada@evilangels-stuff@rmaximoff@morganismspam23@aboutcustardcreams@sasheemo@rigglemethat@walkethisway@mommywandas@r-3-becca@harknessshi@ihaveawifebutwerenotmarriedyet@polaris-likethestar@ahintofchaos @dorabledewdroop @toomanylesbiancouples @accidentally-made-a-sideblog @chiar4anna @lonelyhalfwitch

When you had found out your dad was cheating on your mom two years ago, you could feel the numbness seeping into every crack and crevice in your body. You remember looking at his phone while you two were watching a tv show and seeing the dirty texts he sent to a woman he used to work with. He was never very subtle about texting her, and you just had a feeling. Deep down, you knew what you were going to find. 

That didn’t mean it still didn't hurt. 

The betrayal, the anger, the sadness. They all rushed over you but you’re still not really sure if you actually felt any of it. You were in a daze for the rest of the day, the need to scream building in your throat gradually. 

You finally couldn’t take it anymore and you went for a run the next day, which is something you never would usually do. The thumping of your feet against the pavement sounded like why? why? why? Why would he do this? Why would he choose her over his family? You ran until it felt like your legs were on fire and your lungs were about to burst until you finally doubled over, bit down on your hand, and let the guttural scream claw its way out of you. Your teeth had broken your skin and you could still see the small white scar if you flexed your hand just right. 

After that, you locked the pain somewhere deep down inside you. You hadn’t even gotten to really confront him about it.

But when Agatha says that your dad is having an affair, you feel your stomach drop and somewhere, the buried feelings start begging to get free, rattling on the bars of their enclosure. 

“What?” You ask quietly, a lump growing in your throat as you crane your head up to look at her. Your hand on her stomach stalls. She has a distant look in her eyes. 

“Monday night after you left, your dad couldn’t find his phone so we were looking for it. I found it on the kitchen table while he was looking in his office and he had just gotten a text. I glanced at it and it was from a woman.” Agatha doesn’t continue, but you can only imagine what the text said. 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, the lump getting bigger. You remember making that mean comment to her the first night you got dinner about him cheating again. 

She laughs ironically. “I guess I can’t be mad. I mean, look at us.”  

You glance up at her to meet her sardonic eyes. “Yeah, but look at who you cheated on versus who he did. I’m sure this other woman isn’t even half as hot as you are.” 

She softly smiles and then leans down to peck your lips with hers. “That’s sweet of you to say, honey.” 

“So what are you going to do?” 

She sighs deeply and starts gently tugging on the ends of your hair. “I don’t know. Confront him? Get a divorce? I’ve spent the last two days just trying to figure something out.” 

Her cold silence makes sense now. So does the way she fucked you earlier. 

You turn your head and press a kiss to her bare shoulder. “I’m sorry,” you repeat, because what else is there to say? “Is there anything I can do to help?” 

Her fingers tighten in your hair and they pull to tilt your head so you’re looking right at her. “I can think of something,” she says, a teasing lilt in her voice. 

“Oh, yeah?” Your eyebrow raises and she smirks with a daring nod. “Anything for my step-mother.” 

You kiss down her stomach, making sure to sink your teeth into her delectable abs and suck hard. She moans and arches her back off the bed. Soon enough, her midsection is littered with red marks and fuck, it’s hot. 

If your dad is too much of a fucking idiot to appreciate this woman, you’ll just have to take matters into your own hands. 

You settle between her thighs on the bed and slowly drag your tongue up the inside of her right thigh. A noise slips out from her lips and you do the same thing on the other side to hear it again. 

“Stop teasing, baby,” she warns in a low voice. She’s glistening. 

You chuckle and then lick up through her folds. She groans and raises her hips so you can get in closer. Your tongue swirls around her clit. 

“Fuck,” she swears under her breath. You begin to lap at her, heat growing between your own legs at the way her breath stutters and her thighs begin to shake. 

“Did he ever make you feel like this?” You ask, words garbled since your mouth is full of her cunt. But she rolls her hips on her face seemingly involuntarily, so you know she understood. 

“Never,” she says breathlessly and you pick up the pace, swirling and sucking, wanting her to feel good. 

She cums quickly and then she pulls you up into a deep kiss, tongue moving over yours to taste herself. 

“What does this mean for us?” You wonder aloud after she cleans your face and you both are cuddling again. If Agatha and your father get divorced, will this affair end? Will it become more?

“What do you want it to mean?” 

“I don’t know,” you say, because you don’t. “I like this, though.” 

She kisses your forehead and you can feel her smiling against you. “I do, too.” 

***

Dinner tonight with Agatha and I? is what your dad texts you the next day while you’re at school. You frown and quickly shoot Agatha a text about it. The two of you hadn’t spoken any more about what she was going to do about your father’s infidelity so you just want to be aware if you’re walking into a trap. You’re not sure you can take another dinner where your dad sits you down and tells you that he’s getting a divorce. 

Agatha responds that she hasn’t talked to him yet. You did know that he was away on business – although, that could just be code for having an affair – so he hasn’t been home. And you don’t think Agatha would be one to confront him over the phone. 

You text your dad back that you’ll be there. You’re curious to see what it’s about. 

The rest of the day passes quickly while you worry about what dinner could bring. You take a quick shower when you get home from school and put on a casual black dress. You don’t really care about looking nice for whatever restaurant you go to, you just want to look good for Agatha. Your mouth almost waters at the thought of whatever she will wear. She always manages to look ethereal. 

Your phone buzzes with a message from Agatha. Your father is meeting us at the restaurant. I’m outside. 

You can sense the tension radiating off the older woman the moment you step outside. She tersely watches you walk over to her car and slide into the passenger seat. Agatha’s wearing pants with a silky button down shirt and she looks hot. 

“Hey, baby,” she says, leaning over to press a kiss to your cheek. 

“You okay?” 

She grimaces and puts her sunglasses on. “I’ve barely talked to him since he left on his trip. He just asked if the three of us could get dinner.” 

Your brow furrows. “Are you going to say anything tonight?” 

Agatha purses her lips and reaches over to pat your leg. “I wouldn’t do that with you there. I’m not putting you in the middle of this.” 

Your heart warms because your mother did not hesitate to put you in the middle of her problems with your dad. She had broken almost every boundary and turned you into her therapist, and it now fills you with immense gratitude that Agatha won’t do that. 

Even though you are very much in the middle of it, with you and her having sex and all. 

“Thank you.” 

You both launch into small talk until you pull into the restaurant parking lot, where you see your dad waiting out front. Your stomach begins to sink just at the sight of him. 

You can’t believe he did it again. 

“Sweetheart, are you alright?” Agatha asks, voice tight with worry. She must see how you’re looking at him through the window. You’ve never opened up about your parents with her, but you can tell that she at least partly knows how you must be feeling. 

You clench your jaw and steel your nerves. “I’m good.” 

You try to not get angry when your dad’s face lights up at the sight of the two of you. 

“My favorite girls!” He booms and pulls you both into a hug. You can feel how tense Agatha is and you’re sure you feel the same. “How are we?”

“Good,” you mutter and Agatha says something along the lines of that as well. 

He made a reservation so you’re immediately led to a booth tucked in the back of the restaurant. You sit opposite your dad and Agatha doesn’t hesitate before sliding in next to you. 

“How was your trip?” Agatha asks, tone laced with something sharp like she’s trying to catch him in an act. 

Before he can answer, the waitress comes over. She looks a few years older than you, with brown hair and pretty blue eyes. Almost like a younger version of Agatha, you think. She takes your drink orders, her gaze lingering a bit too long on you as you ask for a sprite. 

You can see Agatha scowling at her out of the corner of your eye. 

Your dad starts talking about his work when she leaves but you suddenly lose all focus when Agatha slowly moves her hand to your thigh and grips it possessively. 

She clearly does not like the waitress, who comes back a few minutes later with your drinks. Fully aware of this, you reach out to take your sprite from the waitress and your fingers brush right in front of Agatha’s face.

Her nails dig into your leg and you subtly smirk at her. Her eyes have completely darkened. 

After everyone orders food, you excuse yourself to go to the bathroom. You’ve started throbbing from the tight hold Agatha has on you – both literally and figuratively – and you’re not sure you’ll last another minute without some relief. 

Just as you push open the door, someone grabs your wrist and shoves you inside. You gasp and whirl around, fear clenching your heart, only to find that it’s Agatha. 

She closes the door behind her and locks it. You’re so thankful it’s a single-person bathroom. 

Agatha advances and you step back until you hit the sink. 

“I know what you’re doing,” she hisses, trapping you against it by putting her hands on either side of you. 

“What do you mean, mommy?” You ask innocently, enjoying the way her dark eyes flash. Her hand comes up to wrap around your throat and a thrill runs through you. You’re sure you’re absolutely dripping now. 

“You were making eyes at that dirty waitress,” she accuses. “Looks like you need a reminder of who you belong to.” 

Before you can ask what she means, she flips you over so the sink is cutting into your hip bones and you can see the reflection of you both in the mirror. You look like a mess. And she looks like she is enjoying every bit of it. 

And then she grinds her front against you and you feel something hard in her pants. You watch your mouth fall open in the mirror. 

“You-” You don’t even have the words and the ache inside you is only getting worse. A smug smile spreads across her face as she reaches down to unzip her pants. Her other hand moves your underwear to the side, not even bothering to take it off.

She drags her strap-on up and down your slit, laughing cruelly at the way your hips move to try to get her inside. 

“Please,” you whine, feeling empty. 

She leans down so she can whisper in your ear, “Who do you belong to?” 

“You, mommy,” you say desperately and you let out a loud moan when she finally pushes into you.

“Be quiet,” she jeers and spanks you hard. You bite down on your lip to keep from moaning, but also to keep from telling her that spanking makes noise, too.

She sets a rough pace from the beginning, grabbing onto your hips with bruising force. You let out little gasps as she thrusts into you, over and over, already bringing you close to the edge. She reaches around you with one hand and starts rubbing your clit and your head falls forward in pleasure. 

Agatha pauses for a second so she can yank you back up by your hair. “Look at yourself,” she says, forcing you to watch yourself in the mirror. She resumes her fast pace. “Look at how well you’re taking my cock for me. Look at how much of a slut you are for me.” When she calls you a slut, you physically can’t stop the sound that comes out of your mouth. 

“Mommy, please,” you pant, your entire body feeling like a livewire. “Wanna cum.”

“Do you think a brat like you deserves to cum after making mommy jealous like that?” 

“M’sorry, mommy, I’ll be good,” you practically cry. You meet every thrust, eyes rolling back in your head from how perfect she feels. Your body is on edge from all the effort it’s taking to not cum. “Need to, so close.”

“Who do you belong to?” 

“You, only you,” you sob. 

“Good girl,” she says, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck. “Cum for me, sweetheart.” 

Two more thrusts and a rub of your clit and you cum all over her cock. It’s explosive and you bite on your lip so hard that you taste blood. She begins to slow down as you come back down to earth and you rest your head against the mirror to recover. 

Someone knocks on the door and you freeze since your step-mother is buried to the hilt inside of you at this current moment. 

But she just sweetly calls, “Occupied!” and you can’t help but laugh breathlessly. She pulls out of you and you wince. 

“Wow,” you say as she helps you clean up. “You know I wasn’t flirting with the waitress, right?” 

She smirks and pulls you in for a deep kiss. “I know, baby. I just couldn’t spend another minute listening to your dad talk.”

“Join the club.” 

You feel like everyone is watching the two of you as you make your way back to the table, but in reality, they’re not. Your dad is on his phone texting someone – you think you see a woman’s name at the top – but he quickly swipes out of it when he notices that you both have come back. You glance at Agatha just in time to see her eye twitching. 

“There you ladies are! I thought you had gotten lost. Everything okay?” He asks. You think you’re just imagining the condescending tone, but Agatha stiffens next to you so maybe not. 

“Actually yeah,” she says. “I’m filing for divorce.” You gape at her as she spins on her heel and walks away. 

You turn your head back to your dad, who looks back at you, dumbfounded. 

“Sweet pea-” he starts but you hold up your hand to cut him off. 

“No. Fuck you. You don’t deserve anyone.” 

And then you leave to follow Agatha, feeling suddenly like the weight inside you has finally lifted. 

[vibeswithdivs]

He’s more patient than he looks

pairing: Max Verstappen x reader

The hum of conversation filled the Red Bull Racing headquarters as employees bustled about with an energy that was almost infectious. Engineers huddled over laptops, mechanics leaned against tool racks with grease-streaked hands, and the faint smell of coffee lingered in the air. It was a world that thrummed with purpose, speed, and precision—qualities that the newcomer sitting at her desk felt slightly out of sync with.

You can do this, she told herself for the hundredth time that day.

Being a social media manager for one of the most prominent teams in Formula 1 was a dream job. Yet, as she stared at the screen, where a half-finished tweet about race day statistics blinked back at her, that dream felt a lot more like a free-fall. She wasn’t just crafting posts about breakfast specials or gym memberships anymore—she was managing the online presence of an entire racing empire.

And, truthfully, she was floundering.

“Morning!”

The cheerful voice made her jump, and she turned to see her colleague, Sophie, leaning over her cubicle wall with a grin. “How’s the newbie settling in?” Sophie asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Uh… good!” she replied quickly, pasting on a smile that she hoped masked her nerves.

Sophie tilted her head, unconvinced. “You’ve been staring at that screen for an hour, and the only thing you’ve posted today is a retweet from Pirelli. Do you need help?”

“No, I’m just—” She paused, biting her lip. “I don’t even know what half these terms mean. DRS, power unit, undercut… it’s like everyone here is speaking a different language.”

Sophie’s face softened. “It is a different language,” she said with a chuckle. “Give it time. It’s only your first week. You’ll get the hang of it. And if you’re still lost, you’ve got plenty of people to ask.”

“Like who?”

“Like me,” Sophie said with a wink. “Or, if you’re feeling brave, you could ask the drivers. Max and Checo are usually good sports about answering questions.”

“Right,” she said, laughing nervously. “Because it’s totally normal to walk up to Max Verstappen and ask him to explain tire degradation.”

“You’d be surprised,” Sophie replied with a grin. “He’s more patient than he looks.”

She didn’t expect to test Sophie’s theory quite so soon. Later that afternoon, while she was setting up her phone to record a behind-the-scenes video in the garage, she heard a familiar voice behind her.

“Need help?”

She turned, almost dropping her phone when she saw Max Verstappen standing there, dressed in his Red Bull team kit and holding a bottle of water. His blue eyes were bright with curiosity, and his expression was disarmingly friendly.

“Uh… no! I mean, yes. Maybe?” she stammered, fumbling with the tripod. “Sorry, I’m still figuring all this out.”

Max chuckled, setting his water down on a nearby workbench. “Don’t worry about it. What are you trying to do?”

“I’m supposed to get some footage of the engineers prepping your car, but I can’t get the angle right, and—” She broke off, feeling heat rise to her cheeks. “It’s my first week. I’m still getting the hang of everything.”

“You’re doing fine,” Max said, his tone reassuring as he stepped closer. “Here, let me see.”

She handed him the phone, watching as he adjusted the tripod with practiced ease. He crouched slightly, angling the camera until it perfectly captured the scene in the garage.

“Like this?” he asked, stepping back to let her check.

She stared at the screen in amazement. “That’s… perfect. How did you do that so quickly?”

“Years of media obligations,” he said with a shrug. “You pick up a thing or two.”

She smiled, feeling some of her nervousness ebb away. “Thanks, Max.”

“No problem,” he replied, picking up his water bottle. “And if you ever need help with anything else—questions, technical stuff, whatever—just ask. It’s better than guessing.”

Max wasn’t kidding. Over the next few weeks, she found herself turning to him more often than she expected, and he answered every question with surprising patience.

“What’s a DRS zone?” she asked one afternoon during a lunch break.

“It’s where we can open the rear wing to go faster,” Max explained, demonstrating with his hands. “But only in certain areas and under certain conditions. You know, to make overtaking easier.”

“And what’s an undercut?” she asked the next day while filming a promo video in the paddock.

Max smirked. “That’s when you pit earlier than the car ahead of you to get fresher tires and gain track position. But timing is everything. If you mess it up, it doesn’t work.”

“Right,” she said, nodding along even though she still felt a bit lost.

Max seemed to notice her confusion because he added, “It’s like beating someone to the front of the line at a concert by taking a shortcut. Make sense?”

“Ahh,” she said, grinning. “That actually helps.”

With Max’s encouragement, her confidence grew. She started experimenting with different content ideas, from quirky Instagram stories to polished YouTube vlogs. Her colleagues noticed the change, offering praise and feedback that bolstered her even further.

But it was Max’s quiet support that made the biggest difference. He never made her feel stupid for asking questions or stumbling over her words, and his humor often turned stressful moments into something lighter.

One evening, as she sat in the media center editing a race weekend highlight reel, Max walked by and paused to watch over her shoulder.

“Not bad,” he said, nodding at the screen.

“‘Not bad’?” she repeated, turning to him with a mock glare.

He grinned. “Okay, fine. It’s great. But you missed the part where I overtook Checo in Turn 3. That was the best move of the race.”

She rolled her eyes, laughing. “I’ll add it to the blooper reel.”

“Bloopers?” he said, pretending to look offended. “That was pure talent.”

She shook her head, unable to suppress her smile. “You’re impossible, Verstappen.”

“And you’re doing a great job,” he said, his tone softening. “Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

By the time the season reached its midpoint, she felt like she’d finally found her footing. The fast-paced world of Formula 1 no longer felt overwhelming; instead, it felt exhilarating.

One evening, after a particularly successful social media campaign, she found herself standing on the balcony of the team’s hospitality unit, watching the sun set over the paddock. Max joined her a few minutes later, leaning against the railing with a relaxed smile.

“Long day?” he asked.

“Always,” she replied with a chuckle. “But I think I’m getting the hang of it.”

“I’d say you’re more than getting the hang of it,” Max said. “You’ve been killing it lately. Everyone’s noticed.”

She glanced at him, surprised by the sincerity in his voice. “Really?”

“Really,” he said, meeting her gaze. “And in case you haven’t noticed, you’ve made this job your own. You’ve brought something new to the team. It’s good.”

Her chest swelled with gratitude, and she looked down, trying to hide the blush creeping up her cheeks. “Thanks, Max. For everything. I don’t think I would’ve survived my first month without you.”

He chuckled, reaching out to nudge her shoulder playfully. “Anytime. You’re part of the team now, and we take care of our own. Even if you still ask a million questions.”

She laughed, the sound light and genuine. “Get used to it, Verstappen. I’ve got plenty more where those came from.”

Max smirked, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Bring it on.”

[amirasainz]

Can you do reader is the youngest of the drivers and practically everyone’s baby

Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!

-xoxo babygirl 💕

F1's Darling

The paddock was alive with the hum of cameras, the chatter of mechanics, and the occasional roar of engines. At the center of it all stood Y/n Y/l/n, the 18-year-old phenomenon who had taken Formula 1 by storm. As Red Bull's youngest ever female driver, she wasn’t just talented—she was adored. A natural behind the wheel, witty in interviews, and effortlessly charming, Y/n had an uncanny ability to bring out a protective streak in everyone around her.

"Y/n!" A familiar voice called out as she stepped out of her garage after a gruelling practice session. She turned to see Carlos walking toward her, a warm smile on his face and a sandwich in hand.

"You need to eat," he said in his accented English, offering her the snack.

Y/n chuckled, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Carlos, you know I have a team that feeds me, right?"

"Yes, but they don’t feed you properly," he countered, waving the sandwich in front of her. "Eat. Now."

Laughing, she accepted it. "Thanks, dad."

Carlos grinned. "Don’t let Fernando hear that."

---

Later that evening, Y/n found herself wandering through a shopping district with Charles. The Monegasque driver had insisted on treating her after seeing how exhausted she looked post-qualifying.

"Y/n, this will look amazing on you," Charles said, holding up a sleek leather jacket.

"Charles, I can’t afford half the stuff you’re picking," she protested, though she couldn’t help but admire the jacket.

He gave her a mock-serious look. "Did I ask if you could afford it? You’re not paying. That’s the rule."

"You spoil me too much," she said, blushing as he led her to the counter.

---

Race day arrived with its usual chaos. As Y/n climbed out of her car after a gruelling 60 laps, Lewis was already waiting by her garage. He had a towel in hand, which he draped over her shoulders before handing her a bottle of water.

"You okay, kid?" he asked, his voice filled with genuine concern.

Y/n nodded, her breathing still heavy. "Yeah, just... tired."

Lewis crouched slightly so they were eye level. "You did good out there. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise."

Her lips quirked into a small smile. "Thanks, Lewis. That means a lot."

"Of course," he said, patting her shoulder. "Now go rest."

---

The post-race press conference was brutal, as always. A journalist attempted to insinuate that Y/n's lack of experience cost Red Bull the race. Before she could respond, Max cut in sharply.

"Excuse me, but that’s completely out of line," Max said, his voice cold. "Y/n drove exceptionally today. She doesn’t deserve this kind of question."

Y/n glanced at Max gratefully, her nerves easing. After the conference, he pulled her aside.

"Don’t let them get to you," he said, his blue eyes serious. "You’re one of the best drivers here. Don’t forget that."

---

One afternoon, while sitting in the paddock, Y/n struggled with a stubborn bottle of water. She twisted and twisted, her frustration growing by the second.

Before she could ask for help, Fernando appeared out of nowhere, took the bottle from her hands, opened it effortlessly, and handed it back without a word.

"Thanks, Fernando," she said, startled but grateful.

He gave her a small nod before walking off, leaving her to chuckle at his understated kindness.

---

Lando was the team's unofficial mood-maker, and Y/n was often his favorite target.

"Knock, knock," he said one morning, leaning into her motorhome.

"Who’s there?" she asked, already grinning.

"Orange," he replied, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Orange who?"

"Orange you glad you have me to brighten your day?" he said, bursting into laughter.

Y/n groaned. "That’s terrible, even for you."

"But you’re smiling," he pointed out, grinning.

---

During a rare off weekend, George invited Y/n over to his place in Monaco. Over tea, he patiently explained racing lines and strategies that could help her in the upcoming season.

"You’ve got the speed," he said, gesturing at a diagram on his tablet. "Now it’s just about perfecting your consistency."

"Thanks, George," she said, scribbling notes in her notebook. "I don’t know what I’d do without you."

"Learn slower," he teased, earning a laugh from her.

---

The camaraderie wasn’t lost on the fans or the media. They loved seeing how the drivers rallied around Y/n, treating her like their collective little sister. It wasn’t unusual to see clips of Lewis helping her out of a car, Carlos feeding her snacks, or Max standing up for her during interviews.

Y/n adored her team, but it was the broader F1 family that truly made her journey special. They didn’t just see her as a driver; they saw her as their driver.

"Y/n," Max called one evening as they were leaving the track. "You coming to dinner with us?"

"Depends," she said with a playful smile. "Is Carlos bringing food?"

"Always," Carlos replied from nearby, making her laugh.

As they walked off together, Y/n couldn’t help but feel grateful. F1 was a tough world, but with her self-appointed paddock family by her side, she knew she could handle anything.