#i saw way too many things of that and people saying they were shocked by it and all
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velvetvexations · 2 days ago
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Just saw a post telling trans women it was okay to want vaginoplasty even if it's "just" for sexual reasons (true, it's not "shallow" or "perverted" to want your body to feature a vagina for sex reasons, it's literally genitals) and some people in the comments were acting like there was some sort of unique, super strong stigma and backlash to trans women getting bottom surgery compared to other demographics, and like. Lol. Lmao even.
Of course, there are plenty of people being extremely shitty (saying gross stuff like that "angel without its wings" phrase, or "axe wound", "rot pocket"...) but I'd say most of it comes from cis people, who... Say similar shit about trans men. Maybe I'm wrong, but I've never come across someone praising FTM bottom surgery while simultaneously dragging MTF bottom surgery. Meanwhile, even within the trans community, everyone and their mother has an opinion about FTM bottom surgery and how awful it supposedly is. Joking about how "it's easier to dig a hole than build a pole" to say it's worse than vaginoplasty. Bottom surgery is not even considered an option, you're supposed to only get top surgery and be satisfied, and never dare to want to ruin your ~ pure AFAB body ~ by adding an Evil Oppressor Penis. Some people will straight up tell you that they prefer dating or being around trans men because they "feel safer since they don't have a penis" (imagine what they think of trans men who are post bottom surgery... Well you usually don't even have to imagine, as people love to loudly announce to everyone how they think transmasc bottom surgery is terrible).
So, from what I've seen, no, I don't think there's an unique bias against trans women getting bottom surgery that doesn't exist for others. I don't think they're seen as way more predatory or sexually perverted for wanting bottom surgery than other trans people (just using a packer gets you called a pervert walking around with a dildo in your pants, ffs...)
In fact, again, from what I've personally seen, I'd even say that's it's considered slightly more acceptable to want vaginoplasty than to want phalloplasty. I've seen, several times, places offering various trans surgeries listing every mainstream trans surgery and giving information about them, but suspiciously omitting phallo and meta. A "post-op" trans woman has a vagina. A "post-op" trans man has top surgery. I've lost count of how many trans people I've heard saying that vaginoplasty is indistinguishable from a cis vagina and then turning around to say that phalloplasty is just an ugly flesh tube. At some point I even read with my own two eyes an informative pamphlet about trans surgeries *made by a trans organization* saying positive things about the different types of vaginoplasty and reassuring people wanting it, but when it talked about phallo (I don't remember their stance on meta but the one on phallo really shocked me so it stuck), instead of just talking about the surgery neutrally like they were supposed to do, the text suddenly started criticizing people who wanted it for "conforming to cis society" or some stupid shit like that. Straight up, wanting vagina = good, wanting penis = bad. There's a huge taboo about wanting surgery to have a penis, even within the transmasc community. Everyone will say the most disgusting shit about it and try to discourage you to get it. Your motives get questioned, because obviously the only people who would get that kind of surgery are shallow, toxically masculine, "trying too hard to be like cis guys", wanting to become oppressors and planning to be rapists. They need to learn to deconstruct gender, don't they know they don't need a penis to be a man ? Clearly they haven't read enough feminist or queer theory. Oh, they have ? Well then, if they weren't misguided and still seek the evil penis surgery on purpose... It's clearly because they have bad intentions, they're predatory, power-hungry and probably fantasize about becoming a rapist...!!
So yeah, it kinda pissed me off. I don't really see why people feel the need to insist that if something is bad for trans women, then it must automatically be The Absolute Worse compared to every group. Idk.
I'm really sorry anon. <3 SRS should be normalized for everyone.
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phyyne · 1 year ago
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a bit disappointed by the Ghost community right now after the Aurora and Swiss kiss, like so much hypocrisy and misogyny its incredible
clearly you guys weren't a safe place for lgbt+ people when ghouls were kissing and all, you were just fantasizing on us
i knew some of the fans were like that, but this event really shows it
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useless-catalanfacts · 4 days ago
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Something very strange happened, and I think we need to have a talk about the way some people who don't know about Catalan culture misrepresent the Tió (our pre-Christian Christmas present-bringer, a log who poops presents 🪵🎁).
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I have a relative who is a teacher in an adult school, she teaches Catalan language (mostly to immigrants). Some days ago, they were doing an activity about Catalan holidays, and two of her students said that Tió should be banned and that it's the worst thing they have ever heard. My relative was very shocked and asked why they could say such a thing (imagine, it's like saying Santa Claus should be banned in the USA). Their reasoning was that they completely misunderstood everything about it. These people are native Spanish speakers and assumed that the Catalan word "tió" (meaning "log" 🪵) means the same as the Spanish word "tío" (meaning "uncle"), even though both words are pronounced differently. They believed that the Tió represents a man and that we tell children to beat people up, so much until they poop themselves, threatening them to give us things. They said it promotes violence to children and that it's disgusting. Nothing further from the truth.
This is not an isolated incident because a few days ago I saw a post on Tumblr repeating this same mistake. I texted the person who posted it saying that it's not called "Poop Uncle" but "Christmas Log" and they said that this was what they were taught by their teacher (this person is from a different continent), and haven't taken down the post. I have also seen comments on Instagram repeating the same and making fun of how gross and violent it is.
The real meaning of Tió
The Log is a way of symbolically passing down our relation with nature. This is how the tradition works:
In early December, we get a log and bring him home. We take care of him: we keep him in a warm place, with a blanket over him, and we feed him things like orange/clementine peels and walnut shells. On Christmas day, all the family comes together. Children get wooden sticks and go get ready in another room, meanwhile adults place presents under the Log's blanket. Children come back and hit the Log while singing a song. There are many local variants of the song but they all come down to asking the Log to poop us good food. When they have finished singing the song, the children remove the blanket and discover the presents that the Log has pooped. Years ago (now this is only done by some farmer families in rural areas, but back in the day this was generalized), the Log was burned in the house's fireplace and its ashes were spread on the fields, believed to act as a magical fertilizer.
Notice what this whole "ritual" has been about: we take care of nature, nature takes care of us, we are part of a whole and there's no real difference between "nature" and "us" because we all give life to each other.
We take a log from the forest and bring it home. We do this for the Winter Solstice because it's the time of the return of light and the rebirth of nature after the winter sleep, and wood symbolizes the most important things for human life: food, warmth and light. It's difficult for us to imagine nowadays because we are used to electricity, but for our ancestors who only had oil lamps, fire and candles, darkness was almost absolute for many hours in winter, and that's why the Winter Solstice was very important because it meant that light is coming back. We want something from the Log, his fire will allow us to cook, it will give us light, and keep us warm. So we offer him the same: we feed him (notice what we feed it, too: a kind of compost, which is complimentary to human food), we keep him warm, and we love him. Then, we hit him with sticks (mimicking the motion of cutting down a tree) and ask him to give us food, and he does. Then, our ancestors used to burn him for warmth and light, and then take him back to plants spreading his ashes so it will give life to the fields. Which in turn will give us food again, which we will poop and it will fertilize plants again. And it's a cycle that never ends, we're all part of a whole.
We give to the forests, the forests can grow with the remains that all living creatures leave on its ground: leafs, excrements, the remains of parts of our food like nuts and fruit peels. These things give life to the forest. And the forest gives life to us: gives us fruits and wood (=light and warmth). We take these things, and in return we give to forests once again.
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Nowadays, the part about warmth and light is often lost to kids, but the part about food is still obvious, even if subconsciously. This is why the Log is not the horrible barbaric tradition that the "haha poop and violence" crowd would make you believe.
And don't get me wrong, it can still be funny! We're the first ones to make jokes about it. And you can, too! But don't spread false ideas: the Spanish word "uncle" appears nowhere near this tradition because it doesn't have anything to do with uncles nor with Spanish-speaking cultures. It's called the Christmas Log (Tió de Nadal, Soca de Nadal, Tronca de Nadal, Tizón de Nadal, etc depending on the area, all meaning "Christmas Log") and it's celebrated by the Catalan people and a part of the Occitan and Pyrenean Aragonese people. The word "poop" (as an imperative verb, as in "please poop for us") appears in the song, but not in the name.
I know that, now that misinformation has gone viral, a post won't stop it. But I hope at least people with a genuine interest can learn some more. By all means, keep laughing! Make all the memes you want! But knowing the whole story will give you understanding. And, please, don't argue in favour of banning our cultural practises, we've had enough of that for centuries.
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starboye · 2 months ago
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Kinktober Day 22
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starring: ross lynch x male reader
request: ross lynch x onlyfans creator!reader, reader is recording himself for his only fans and as he is fingering himself ross walks in to his room and sees his roommate knuckles deep so reader gets an idea and stands up invites ross to come join and ross jumps on to the bed and start rimming him and fucks him like a slut and after they finish ross puts a cute little diamond butt plug
warnings: smut, cursing, fingering, rimming, ass eating, rough sex, butt plug, sucking fingers???, slight degrading, fucked silly
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with the way rent was rising in you apartment it was no surprise you got into the onlyfans business when you saw how much money it brought you and how many people enjoyed you content, and with living with ross being a singer and all it got the bills paid.
and with any other day like today you had to record some sexy stuff to post, so what better content then you fingering yourself, little did you know ross would be coming home early from the recording studio, ross knew what you did but never questioned it because as long as you were paying your half of the rent it was fine with him.
but imagine his surprise when he walked in on you fucking yourself with your fingers, moaning out like a slut as you went deeper and deeper with your fingers, he immediately feels a boner come on as you lean up and see him.
gasping in shock and wrapping yourself in a blanket "fuck hey ross" you try to play it cool but the shock on his face says anything but cool "h-hey y/n" he stammers covering his slightly big cock with his hands, striking and idea in your mind.
"you don't have to stand there you can come closer" you say in a sultry tone dropping the blanket and laying back on the bed, your hole out in full view for ross too see, the way it pulses open and closes was driving him insane, he wants to fuck you so bad now.
after a little battling in his mind he walks forward and lays his head in between your thighs, his breath fanning over your hole making you let out a tiny whimper that his ear catches, wanting to hear more of it he shoves his tongue into your hole.
you back arching in surprise as he works his tongue expertly inside you, your moans becoming louder and louder while the camera caught every moment of the sexy actions, your hand instinctively rushing to grip his hair tightly.
the more you pulled at his curls the rougher he ate you out which pleased you more and more, but just as you were about to cum he pulled away from you addicting but tasty hole "what the fuck ross i was right there" you complain but are immediately quiet when he pulls out his cock.
it was the size of your forearm and it was pulsing with veins "i have something so much better for you" you spread your legs wider as ross climbs up and puts himself in between them, he shifts your legs onto your chest and pin them against you.
he rubs his tip against your hole, even after the fingering and rimming you were still tight as a virgin, ross was going to have some fun with you "you ready" he asks and you shyly nod before he deeply thrusts into you making you cry out loudly, you could feel him in your guts.
"f-fuckkk ross it's to big" you moan gripping the sheets around you as ross pounded into you deeper and deeper, only thing leaving his mouth were moans and some heavy grunts while his fingers dug into your meaty thighs, trying to go deeper than he already was.
"do me a favor and shut up, im not leaving till you take my load" he shoved his fingers down your throat to which you eagerly drooled and sucked on like a lollipop, the more he fucked you the more brain cells you lost, slowly but surely drifting down a road to pure ecstasy.
"you like that huh, i bet your fans are gonna love this video" ross laughed at your dumb look, your tongue lolling out but still slightly sucking his fingers while your eyes rolled to the back of your head and your legs somehow now wrapped around ross's waist.
you wanted his cum bad and he could tell "you want me to fill you up" he asked but all you could get out were a bunch of sloppy mhm's and a lazy nod of your head which was enough to convince ross you wanted his warm load swimming in your stomach.
so with a couple more thrusts of his hips snapping into your ass he came in you with a drawled out groan, you were to fucked out to even tell what was happening, just whining out as you felt ross pull out of you before quickly returning with something in hand.
you felt him shove a butt plug in you before he grabs the camera to show the view he gets to see, your beautiful ass slightly swollen from the rough fucking with a nice diamond butt plug to keep his load snug in you, maybe even for him to fuck you later.
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taglist:@mailmango@spermeboy@ghostking4m@gayaristocrat@addictedtomalepits@staarb0y@crispysoup318@its-ares@gargoylesworld09@kadenvatsune@fuckshft@wompwomp-1mh3re
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3amfanfiction · 2 months ago
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You wrote this about Simon: “At this lieutenant, already chewed up and spit out by the world. More scars than skin at this point. You wonder how many people only see the scars and not the shivering body underneath it, waiting for a soft touch.”
I’d LOVE to read more of this - i wanna be the one to offer him the soft touch he wants so badly, maaaan! He’s just so big n’ strong but i want to let him curl up against me while i pet him until he stops shivering
This came through at the perfect time. I had the desire to write but I was picking at all my wips half heartedly bc none of the them were what I wanted.
But this? This I wanted.
So thank you again and please enjoy 1.5k words of acclimatizing Simon to soft touches.
<33
Ask referencing this post.
~~~~
He scared you, the first time you saw him.
Not because of how big he was (tall, thick, muscular) or the look in his eyes (cold, dismissive, too watchful), not even because of the scars themselves (numerous, expansive, tragic).
It was because you knew any interaction would come across as a threat. He had that look in his eyes that said he'd seen the worst of what the world had to offer and he persisted through luck and spite equally. Now he was sat in front of you, too disciplined to let his skin shiver but hating being seen. Hating that you were looking.
When you met him it was through a friend of a friend sort of thing. One of your friends was seeing a Scottish boy and invited you out for drinks with them. You had no reason to say no so you found yourself sitting at a high-top doing your best not to bother the man sitting quietly to your right.
His gruff, Simon, during introductions was the only thing he had said in the last hour, content to sit quietly and watch. Almost outside of the group even though he was sitting at the same table. You made sure to include him when you were speaking to the group, your eyes darting to each person as you spoke, not leaving anyone out. But you made sure to never direct a hard question at him that required an answer. It was all, I bet you never have a problem seeing over the crowd. or I'll grab everyone a drink while I'm up or Sorry, I'll be out of your space in a moment, my jacket was getting a little warm.
He would look at you. Every time you spoke to him he wouldn't shy away from eye contact but that was where his involvement ended. Never a head nod or shake, never a verbal answer.
By the end of the night you were positive he didn't like you. He didn't dis-like you but he didn't like you, you were pretty sure. That was okay though. You'd done your best not to infringe on his space, not wanting to step on his toes. You thought you had done a good job all around and put it out of your mind, the interaction over and done with and no longer needing to be reviewed.
What you never realized was Simon's shoulders lowered a whole inch throughout the course of the night.
\\\
You called your friend out on the number of times she invited you to hang out with Johnny and Simon, flat out asking if she and Johnny were trying to set you and Simon up through subtle double-dating.
"No!" She leaned forward grabbing your hand, her eyes looking earnestly into yours, "I promise it's not like that. Johnny told me he's pretty much all Simon has. Well, their team is. So they're always together when they're home. I don't want Simon to feel like a third wheel or left out or anything."
And you believed her. This was one of her strong suits, always looking out for others. That's probably why you two got along so well, a pair of givers, the both of you. And she had a point. The idea of Simon sitting awkwardly with the other two as his only companions made something twist in your stomach. You didn't want that for him.
So you kept seeing Simon and you kept doing your best to give him space but include him at the same time. You were shocked the first day he spoke to you but the fact that it was a bad joke made a sort of perfect sense.
"What's the best way to carve wood?"
You looked over at him in shock that this was what he chose to break the ice with. At the same time you were delighted and you couldn't help but feel giddy at the prospect of Simon telling you a joke. A bad one by the sound of it.
"How?"
"Whittle by whittle."
"That was absolutely terrible."
He smiled to himself if his eye crinkles had anything to say about it. That giddy feeling bubbling up inside you was getting unsettlingly big right about now. You looked at the ground and bit your lip to keep from a cheesy grin of your own breaking out.
Before you knew it he had no problem speaking to you. While never particularly verbose, he would respond to comments directed towards him, offer his opinion if options were offered, and kept telling awful jokes.
You were hopelessly charmed.
You broke your own rules and reached for him first.
You were sat next to him on a bench, the sun setting and the evening air cooling further. He had told you another one of his god-awful jokes when you unthinkingly swatted out with your hand, brushing his arm. His muscles jumped and his arm tensed right before you made contact as if bracing for a hit. An involuntary reaction to someone reaching for him. It was a horrifying realization.
You sobered quickly and your chuckle died off awkwardly. You turned to face forward, looking out at the street, watching for any sign of your friend or Johnny who had stepped into the store for a quick moment leaving you and Simon to find a bench while you waited. You hoped that if you didn't draw attention to it then your faux pas would pass unmentioned.
You let out a relieved sigh when Simon continued with another comment, not taking your overstepping to heart. By the time the other two had rejoined you the whole situation was forgotten, water under the bridge. You didn't think of it again until it was the end of the night with everyone about to go their separate ways.
When you said goodbye to Simon he said it back, reaching out to brush his hand down your arm in return in almost the exact same spot as where you'd touched him earlier.
Your heart skipped a beat before picking up a double pace. You couldn't help but beam at him, a wide grin splitting your face even as he grunted and turned away, likely embarrassed by your show of emotion.
Today had been a good day after all.
You thought you had ruined it for a moment there, thankful when Simon seemed to brush past it. You hadn't expected him to reciprocate in the same manner though.
Maybe he really did like hanging out with you. You never doubted it for a second.
\\\
It took time–a slow steady build to where you ended up, curled up on the couch together with Simon laying on top of you. You both had your tops off to bask in a little skin-to-skin time.
You'd been together for a few months at this point and it was like night and day to compare him to the Simon you met all that time ago. This one couldn't keep his hands off you to save his life. It was a slow warm-up to get past his walls in a way that wasn't upsetting to either of you. Soft touches that slowly built, leading to hand holding, to hugging, to kissing, to this.
You dragged your fingers slowly up his back, fingertips catching on raised scar tissue before continuing on, ever moving. He hummed into the crook of your neck where he had buried his face when you switched from fingertips to nails, gently scratching the skin.
You loved spending time like this, feeling Simon melt into you, eager for every touch he could get. If you were sitting still and Simon was in the vicinity you could bet that he would be pressed against your side before too much time had passed. Eager for the soft caresses you always had for him.
He was starved for touch and you wanted to feed him.
So you offered, again and again in the beginning–most times with no luck, to let him touch you. On the couch watching TV? Your arms would open, inviting a hug when he walked by. At the table? Your head was tilting up for a kiss if he wanted one. Passing each other in the hallway? You'd raise your hand and hold it in front of you, letting him press his big barrel chest into your palm if he wanted.
It was a slow acclimatization that brought you to today and the taste was all the sweeter for the time you had poured into it.
You lifted a hand to drag it through the spiky hairs at the back of his head, enjoying his groan of contentment. It sounded like he was already halfway asleep and you knew you wouldn't be leaving this spot for a while.
Might as well settle in and get comfortable. You familiarized him to gentle touches, now he was insatiable for them. He would be consuming them from you greedily for as long as you offered.
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hoshigray · 9 months ago
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Hello (◍•ᴗ•◍)
I really like your work it's so good!! And i saw your request is open soooo
Can i request delinquent/bad boy sukuna x student council president reader? Like they hate each other bc reader is very strict with the rule while sukuna just break it anyway. One day, sukuna saw the reader in a party which make him confused bc reader is not the type to do fun stuff. And moments later they fuck
Sorry if this is a very detailed request. Feel free to ignore it or change it :3
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𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: oh my, another sukuna req! things bout to get hot, hehe~
⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Sukuna x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern setting; Sukuna and you are college seniors - blackmail - fingering (f! receiving) - anal fingering (f! receiving) - oral (m! receiving) - facials - use of a phone; sexual photography - impact play (spanking) - full nelson position - degradation (cumslut, pig, slut, whore) - humiliation - overstimulation - pet names (brat, princess, woman) - dick piercing (frenulum) - usage of drugs & alcohol - mention of drool/spit and tears.
⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.7k
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Sukuna was grinning ear to ear as he marched his way toward you. “Y/n.”
You perked at your name, and your face contoured to brief shock before shifting to mild annoyance. “Sukuna.”
Running into you at a huge party was the last thing Sukuna expected to see. But it’s a situation he will take advantage of expeditiously. 
College is hard enough being the top dog of the student government association and trying to juggle senior classes. It is your job to keep the school and its students in order, maintaining a pretty face as it’s been doing decently for the several years before you. The entire student body knows you take your job seriously, earning the respect they give you with every step you take and being praised by professors and faculty alike — even being invited to have dinner with the university president along your association! 
But of course, it’s not all sunshine and rainbows because there are always downsides to the good — one of them being a ginormous thorn to your being. 
Ryōmen Sukuna is a man you’ve been dealing with for almost four years. Known for his intimidating cadence whenever he walks the halls, the brutality of his moves as he’s the famous trump card of the school’s jiu-jitsu club, and his cold and demeaning manner of speech when talking down to others he deems beneath him, he is regarded at the campus’ “demon dog.” Someone that many can never believe is the older brother of the freshman track star sweetheart, Yuuji Itadori.
He is a person that many say is the complete opposite face when compared to you, a fact you have no choice but to agree with a twitching brow. Looking through all the disruptive students you’ve dealt with, Sukuna would be crowned King for being the most colossal nuisance of your life. Whether it be reporting him to the campus police for picking fistfights with the juniors, smoking in smoke-free zones, adding more tattoos to his face and arms, or willingly trashing places because he thinks he can, no one has been more subject to give you more grey hairs. He just doesn’t listen — he won’t listen! 
And the worst part is that he enjoyed making your life a living hell. God, he’s such a fucking bastard, not wanting to deal with outside of your academic life.
…Until you two see each other from across the living room where a huge party is held in one of the off-campus apartments, perplexed crimson eyes locked on with widened ones, too shocked to take a sip of your drink from your red solo cup. You immediately turned to the group before you, hoping the sea of kids and the bouncing bass could distort your image from his vision. 
Too late; the salmon-haired senior couldn’t hide the grin on his face as he slithers past people to get to where you are. Students move out of the way for him to move, the group you were hanging with gasps with wary stares, and Sukuna taps your bare shoulder. 
“Never figured the student government president would be here,” his voice was chilling as always. Yet you remain a neutral face when facing him. “Something tells me there isn’t apple juice in that solo cup.”
The group you were hanging out with instantly excused themselves to somewhere else in the apartment, leaving you alone with Sukuna. You rolled your eyes, “What is it, Ryōmen?” You feel disgusted as his red eyes scan your figure, taking in the off-shoulder, long-sleeved bodycon dress you were wearing. True, you don’t wear stuff like this all the time, but you can’t expect this bastard to have any amount of decency or subtlety. 
“Whatcha doin’ here, prez?” God, you hated him calling you that, knowing good and damn well what your name was — but, again, why would he bother; not respecting you enough to do something simple as that. “Isn’t this kind of thing what you’re against for and all?”
“Hmph, am I not allowed to have some fun at a party I was invited to?” You furrowed your brows and took an aggressive sip. “Besides, this is off-campus housing; the property owners are the ones who’ll have anyone’s asses if stuff breaks or cause disruption against the codes.” 
“Oh, so the uptight President is off duty this time? Hmm, ain’t that something,” he leans against the wall beside you with crossed arms. Your gaze was averted to the crowd bumping and grinding rather than acknowledging the delinquent examining you. “I figured you’d be somewhere pulling your panties to some poor bastard.”
“Watch your tone when talking to me, Ryōmen,” you finally send him a glare through your peripherals. It humored him, a devilish chortle you could hear even through the loud bass. “Lucky for you, I’m only here to have a good time with some friends before heading home to assignments. So, do me a favor and don’t start shit for me to take home and stress over.” 
He lifts a brow, “Is that so? Miss Prez came to let loose, huh.” You didn’t like how he said that — nor how he moved to lean closer to you. His cologne disrupts your nostrils. “Never thought you had that side of you.”
“There are many things you don’t know about me, Ryōmen,” you swing your cup around with a scoff. “And I’d prefer to keep it that way.”
And you thought you’d win this round as Sukuna doesn’t say anything to you for a few seconds. However, the man goes through his pocket to pull out his phone to pull up something. And when he finds it, he flashes the screen to your direction. “You mean things like these?” You turn to look at the device, and your eyes go wide with an agape mouth. What he was showing were photos — a whole lot — of you. 
“You know, I’m sure it must be hard being president of the student body; that’s why I don’t envy you,” one photo shown is of you smoking in the Honors Lounge with a few of your student government associates, an action undoubtedly prohibited within the facilities. “So, I can’t blame you when you decide to settle down and let yourself go for a minute,” he swipes his finger to pictures of you drinking liquor with some other students who smoke blunts and have weed plastered on the coffee table. “However, you really outta be careful with what you’re doing, Y/n; you got people who look up to you and expect so much from you.” Another picture shows you at some dark nightclub with a guy friend, shoving middle fingers and sticking tongues out at the camera. 
Your lips quiver with every swipe, and lips quiver, “Wh…Where did you get those…”
“Hmm? I can’t share that information. Heh, plus, I like to keep tabs on those who can get on my nerves,” he stuffs the phones back into his dark jean pocket. “But I can’t lie; the more I look at those pictures and compare them to the little president that nags too damn much, I can’t help but wonder what would happen if someone were to leak these out for the whole school to see. Which would drop quicker: your presidential scholarship and accolades or your reputation?”
“You fucking asshole…!”
You swiftly throw your cup at Sukuna, but the pink-haired man dodges easily and grabs your wrist — the poor guy behind him gets drenched with your drink. “Hey!” The guy grabs Sukuna’s shoulder and is immediately met with the infamous death glare. “…My fault, bro, don’t worry about it. I’ll go dry off,” the student says while backtracking away from those fearsome eyes. 
You’re trembling with vexed shakes; the hand on your wrist holds you tight with no sign to let go unless necessary. Otherwise, you know he’ll break it if you make one wrong move. “…What the hell do you want from me?“
Now Sukuna has you in the palm of his hand — his sinister grin growing as he leans closer to be inches away from your face. “My apartment is on the top floor; you have ten minutes to get your ass up there,” you don’t move a centimeter when he draws near your ear to whisper. “I’ll show you how to really get loose, Miss President.”
The words felt like sharp daggers to your throat, “You…devil.”
He snickers into your ear, “Pick your poison, and you’ll see just how much of a devil I can be.”
And with that, Sukuna straightens himself up and heads out, his frame disappearing deep into the crowd till you can’t see him anymore. Your heartbeat goes at a pace way too irregular to call ordinary, and your blood too cold as it has your skin suffer in shivers. 
This was a nightmare — an absolute, horrifying nightmare. There’s no way the guy that you hate with your very guts just blackmailed you! This was not how this night was supposed to go; now your whole reputation — what you’ve built with your own two hands — is being held in front of you and is dependent on going to this asshole’s apartment. Who the hell does he think he is!?
You didn’t want to go. You wouldn’t go! Especially under the premise of that fucker, playing with your life like some toy. Your thoughts were inner turmoil, challenging your morals and conscience on what to do. Your pride was trying to pull up a good fight, holding onto whatever dignity you have to validate not going up on the elevator and seeing Sukuna for what he’s about to do to you. They’re just pictures; people will think they’re edited or question if they’re valid!
However, the fact that you spent five minutes going back and forth with this suggests those were anything but pictures. He had ammunition to bring you down — to humble and look down on you — and have everyone do the same, no matter what you could say to justify yourself. So, swallowing your ego, you exit the party and walk the hallway down to the elevator. Every floor you ascended made you feel small, and when the doors opened for you to step out and you saw him leaning on his door waiting for you, your fate had been sealed. 
The same smirk he had at the party was plastered on his face. You were no longer in control of the situation; you are now in his domain — and you should follow his commands to keep up.
“Gahhh! Mmmph, Ryooo, stop—Eeek! Y’re hitting so ha—Ahhh!”
“What? You thought I was going to be easy with you? After all those times you’ve pestered me to no end? Hah, think again, prez.”
Being in the same space with Sukuna is something you never comprehended happening civilly in all your years of knowing him. Now, being laid on top of his knees as he sits on the edge of the bed is jarring in its own sentence. The skirt of your dress was pulled up, your ass and panties out for the cool air to caress. Not until Sukuna rips you off your underwear and starts giving your bare butt unforeseen strikes. The impact of his hand was so harsh that you gripped his jean-clad leg with a scream. 
He goes about this for a solid five minutes, giving your asscheeks slaps – and your cries have him chuckle and do some more. And you can’t squirm out of his hold, or else he’ll dent the skin of your butt with his fingertips, piercing into the tense muscle to inflict pain like no other. God, it hurt so bad, every smack taking your breath away. 
“Look at you,” he coos, rubbing his hand on the hot skin. The pain was so bad to the point of your eyes watering; simply hovering his Hand over you was enough to have you in shudders. “Whatever happened to the poised and resilient Y/n who’d always dare threaten me for my behavior? This person on me, screaming like a whore, can’t be the same Y/n.” 
You grit your teeth, turning over your shoulder to express your seething glare. “Who are you calling a whore, you fucking—Deeeii! Ohhh!” Sukuna sneaks a forefinger inside your wet cunt, not bothering to warn you. “Wai—Tahhh! Take it out, take it out right—Noooh!!”
“Oh, don’t even think you’re in any position to tell me what to do, slut,” you bite your lip as he moves his finger into your vagina with such merciless vigor. “And with how you’re crying like a bitch, you sound pretty whore-ish to me.”
Oh, go fuck yourself! You could have told him that — but you didn’t because he squeezes in his middle finger to insert inside your tight chasm, both digits now rummaging inside your vaginal walls and scraping them to the point of drooling babbles on your part. You couldn’t think of anything, not when he’s still throwing smacks on your ass with his free hand. You can’t even wipe the spit that comes down your lips because he distracts you with more jabs to your inner walls and pinches to the skin of your butt. Fuck, fuuuck!!
And it gets worse when you feel his thumb dance around your asshole. “N–No, stop it, Sukuna! That’s dirty, don’t—Mmnaahh!!” He slips it inside without care; the pain of his thumb forcing inside your puckered anus almost has you shut down.
“That’s the point, prez,” he bites his lip with a pestilent snicker. “Gonna make you so fucking dirty tonight, wanna ruin that perfect image of yours that you don’t recognize yourself. He scratches your butt, resulting in you clamping onto his digits with a grip that feeds his ego. “Mhmm, just like that, princess.”
How dare he play with your ass like a toy and have the nerve to call you that? Such a sick man; the hate you have for him boils your blood to no end. “Ahhh, stoop, too fast, please, go slo—Mmmph!?”
He shoves two fingers in your mouth to stifle your cries. “That’ll keep you from squealing, fucking pig.” And he continues to toy with your slit and anus, your whimpers muffled by his thick fingers.
“Take it all in, Y/n, every single fucking inch, ya hear?…Mmmm, yeah, deep in your throat like that.” 
This. Is. The. Worst! There’s absolutely no way you’re sucking Sukuna’s cock right now; this is the very last thing you’d want to be doing! He’s standing with his dark jeans and briefs on his thighs, his hand on the back of your head to make sure your mouth remains on his dick at all times. If you could, you would’ve chewed the damn thing off and made a run for it. 
But you came here for a reason, so you keep your disdain at bay and begrudgingly suck on Sukuna’s glans, having the salmon-haired man purr from above you. And it doesn’t help that he holds his phone to take pictures of you and said add more to his collection. God, he’s so disgusting…
“Fhhh, fuck, that feels good,” he groans at you taking his girth. Your lips down to the hilt, burrowing his length deep into the warm, tight tunnel of your throat. “Who woulda thought the strict, by-the-book Y/n would take in dick so well?” You narrow your eyes at him as you bob your face up and down, earning a hearty chuckle from the pleased man. “That face of yours, baby, so furious with me, huh.”
You try to pay him no mind, distracting yourself with the task at hand by licking one of his balls before sucking them. Your hands increase in speed when stroking him, having the man above unable to stop bucking his hips to your fist for more enviable friction. 
“Shit, yeah, yes,” he throws his head back in bliss, and you can tell he’s about finished while feeling his cock pulsate under your touch. “Bring your face here.”
He does it for you – his hand on your head for a reason – and forces you close to his cock before he jerks himself for release. And his come exudes with a force, landing right on your face. You fight every fiber of your being to move away, accepting his essence to paint your cheeks, nose, and lips. It was unbelievable how disgracious he was, just plain selfish and unapologetically nasty. 
You hear the phone snap, throwing another scowl at the pink-haired responsible. “Lookin’ like a real cumslut for me, prez.”
And the worst part of all finally comes around — the thing you dreaded once you stepped out of that party and into that elevator.
“—Fffaaahh! Hooohshiiit! This is crazy—Eeeee!”
“Fuckin’ shit, you’re tight as hell, woman…Khhh…! Tryin’ to milk me dry, huh, Y/n…”
Sukuna lies beneath you with his legs bent away, his arms wrapped underneath your legs, and pushing them to your chest from behind. His cock is entombed inside your leaking slit as he thrusts up to you with every second, and the sound of your ass smacking onto his thighs fills the space.
He has his hands behind your neck, demanding you to look at the union of your sexes, and your face couldn’t get any hotter than watching the obscenity. He’s been fucking you for more than ten minutes now, his cum inside you from the last round stains a white ‘o’ around the base of him, and the sticky substance so vulgar to look at it stretching with his push and pull motions. And the squelching – the goddamn squelching! – it only furthered the fog clouding your mind.
There was no point concealing your wails; your lips were forced open with every jab from Sukuna. Jesus, he was so fucking big — your poor cunt stretched to accommodate his intrusion. You clamp onto him more when he pulls, the barbell piercing his frenulum and scraping your walls from the descent and grazing your G-spot.
“Fuck, fuuuck, hsssh…!” It was hard to concentrate on anything outside of this, and you couldn’t tell if you were speaking adequately or prattling like some sex-crazed fool. You sigh with rolled eyes when he sends sporadic ruts out of nowhere, clenching onto his shaft with a tug. 
It has Sukuna groan hotly, his breath steaming your skin. “Holy fuck, you really love gripping my cock, don’t you, princess?”
“I–I can’t help it! You keep ’n hit—Haishhh!” Your eyes meet the ceiling at the jab of your A-spot, the pressure making you feel full. “You—hic—…Yo’re the one m’king me like thisss…”
“Is that right?” He takes slow thrusts to draw out your pleasure; your broken howls were music to his ears. “Sounds like the to be enjoying yourself.” You hurriedly shake your head no, and he throws a bitter pound to your hypersensitive chasm. “Brat, why the hell else are you milking me like this for, then?” 
“Becauseee, it feels….Mmmm,” No, you can’t say that. Don’t tell him what he wants to hear.
“Hmm? Feels what?” You can hear the smirk on his lips. You don’t say anything except muffled hums, so he probes you, “You want me to send out those pictures, huh? Show just how much of a terrible president you are, how you love to go dumb on my dick?”
Of course not! “Do—Don’t you dare…!”
“Then answer the question: how does it feel, hmm? Tell me, how do you feel being fucked by the guy you hate so much?”
Oh, damn you, Ryōmen Sukuna! It was now you shed a tear, your hands grabbing for his forearms for purchase. 
“—Fucking ‘ell, it feels good,” you said it, your last bit of dignity finally thrown for the man to shred apart. “Feels ‘oo good, you make me feel—Geheehh…so damn good…!”
Oh, that was more than enough for him. Sukuna’s sneer becomes broader, and his chuckles are felt from your back. “What a dirty bitch for me, princess…”
His hips go back to an unsteady fashion, propelling his dick to his base, and the brushes of his piercing massage your walls too precisely. It doesn’t take long for your orgasm to come crashing down on you with a scream, the walls of your cunt contracting around Sukuna for the third time that night. Your nails dig into his arms, and drool leaves your pretty agape mouth as he allows you to ride out your climax.
Sukuna whistles at the sensation of you fluttering on his girth. “Phew, damn, that was a good fuck. You know how to keep up with me, woman; you’d make a great pet.”
You were sick of him, gulping to wet your dry throat. “Delete…the fucking…pictures.” Your empty threat only has him click his tongue with a scoff.
“Not so fast there, prez; the fun was just getting good.” Your heart sinks to the soles of your feet. “So, be a good brat and know your place is under me tonight.
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requests/thirsts are open hehe~ 🧸
© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header edit done by me + dividers by @/benkeibear.
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desideriumwriter · 2 months ago
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MORE DITZY READER WITH GEORGE I BEG OF YOU!!! 😫😫😫😫 I feel like she’d be the type to just give him a kiss on the cheek as a way of saying thanks, and George would just stand there stunned as she left. 🤭 - 🪩
i think my new obsession is writing george w/ ditzy!reader, the cutest pair ever <3 ty for the idea!!
wc: 0.7k
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Whoever knotted your shoelaces to the metal rod part of the lamp on the wall did a damn good job at it. 
You held the chair that George was standing on steady as possible, your hands wrapped around the wooden back of the chair as George tried to pick out the part of your laces. 
Of course the one time he doesn’t bring his wand with him is when he needs it. You didn’t have yours either, your explanation being you left it hidden under your pillow, George didn’t bother to ask why.
George had already gotten one shoe off, handing it nicely to you despite how annoyed he was at how long it took just to get one untied.
“I can go get my wand if you need me to. I was worried I was going to lose it during dinner, there’s a hole in my pocket.” You explained, George looked down at you to see you sticking a finger through the rip in the fabric of your robes.
“No, no. It’s fine, I almost…damn…almost got this one.” He brushed your words off. 
After a few more moments of George practically picking at the shoelaces with his fingernails, the knot unraveled and he nearly let out a dramatic sigh of relief.
“You think it was nargles again?” George asked, carefully stepping down from the chair, he had one hand holding your shoe and the other reaching out for yours, suggesting for you to get up off the floor.
He wasn’t sure if he believed in Nargles or not. Knowing that most people believed they were either extinct, or had never existed at all. 
But when he was with you, they did exist. So did the butterflies in his stomach when he saw you.
“Most likely. They took my tie last week.” You took his hand so politely, he noticed how soft your hands were compared to his calloused ones. You did a little hop when you got up, it got a smile out of George.
Taking your other shoe from him, you sat down on the chair to slip your shoes on.
“Could you tie the other one for me? It’ll take less time.” You looked up and asked George as you slipped on your second shoe.
“I’ll tie both.” He nodded, already crouching down on one knee. Even though the whole point was tying two shoes at once would be faster, you didn’t protest, only nodding and smiling at his offer.
George’s head of thick, ginger hair was right was the only thing you could focus on as he looked down, tying your shoes with shift hands.
You impulsively stuck out a hand, running your hand through his hair, twirling a thick strand around your finger. George looked up, a bit confused.
“You have very orange hair.” You stated.
“Thank you?” 
“You take very good care of it, it’s very smooth, silky. Not many boys' hair look like yours.” 
“Well, I’m not sure if there’s a large amount of long haired ginger boys in our school.” George chuckled, his focus going back to tying your laces. You let out a hum as you unraveled your hand from his hair and let him finish.
George straightened the bow on each shoe before standing up, lending a hand out to you again even though you could stand up on your own. You took his hand anyways.
“There you go! I could fix that hole in your pocket too.” He suggested and you shook your head.
“It’s fine, I know how to do it myself. I’m quite good at patching up things.” You said proudly, “Thanks for getting my shoes.”
George meant to respond, but before he could you stood up on your toes to connect your lips to his cheek. Giving him a soft yet sweet kiss to his soon to be blushing face.
“You’re so kind, Georgie. I’ll make sure to wear my cork necklace, keeps the Nargles away.” You smiled, turning as you began to skip down the hallway.
George only stood there still in shock caused by the unexpected peck, jaw ajar as he raised his hand to his warm cheek, feeling it as a grin took over his lips.
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endearng · 2 months ago
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About you
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x ex!reader Summary: You know a place that you go to remember Spencer Reid's face. You never thought you'd get to actually see him again. WC: 4.6k Warnings: brief mentions of Spencer's trauma (childhood, addiction); hints at poor coping mechanisms/mental struggles; miscommunication; running away. A/N: This is a mix between canon events and some things are fiction (mostly when it comes to the timeline of the show) and I picture later seasons Spencer. This is based on many songs from ttpd, but this fic came to mind when I was listening to 'About You' by the 1975. I really hope you guys like it. Feedbacks are always welcome and appreciated <3 masterlist
You sat on one of the park benches. Actually, it was on the park bench, near a tree, you used to occupy with Spencer after getting your favorite treats from the coffee shop nearby.
It was your first date as boyfriend and girlfriend and he had started reading to you once the chatter had died down a little bit. He looked beautiful that day, eyes leaving the book pages every now and then so he could catch a glimpse of you. Every time he did, you smiled at him. You were so enamored by his eyes that you didn't care if you were perceived as desperate or too lovestruck when he looked at you. You felt warm inside and for a moment, you thought it could last forever.
From that day on, whenever you could, you'd always go to that park and sit on that specific bench. You even carved your initials in it.
Now, as you caressed the old indentation, dark from all the time that had passed, you were all alone. A hole in your chest.
You were living in Virginia, about to get your Master's Degree. It was the time of the semester when everything seems to be piling up and you can never get the time to take care of it as you should. As you walked home at night, you witnessed a young couple walking into a dark forest, but you didn't mind — horny kids were everywhere and you were glad they had a nice way to let off some steam, not being one to judge someone’s kinks.
The next thing you knew, the FBI wanted to see you. They sent a cute, awfully young agent to your apartment, who introduced himself as 'Doctor Spencer Reid' and waved at you once you answered the door, telling you you had been the last person to witness that young woman alive. You froze, unable to look away from him, sheer shock crossing your intriguing, mesmerizing features. Spencer Reid took more than a minute to try to calm you down to have you answer his questions. Despite your head going miles per minute, you tried to help out as much as you could and were able to describe the man as you managed to recall some of his features.
Then, you had gotten Spencer's number to keep him posted if anything happened, since that unsub was kidnapping and torturing girls from your university. When they wrapped up the case to go home, Spencer went to your building to tell you they were returning to Quantico. You had grown fond of him, his presence a warm embrace compared to the chaos around you, so when he broke the news, you did feel a little disappointed, even though you knew that he would eventually leave. He was sensitive to the matters around him, doing everything in his power and using his intelligence to help everyone around him. It made you grow a sense of hope in other people you haven’t felt in a while.
You took your study break a little earlier that night once you saw him at your doorstep, deciding you'd give him your time. A low "So, you're leaving..." escaping your mouth once he told you why he went to your place. To say goodbye. You couldn't conceal the sadness in your voice.
"Yeah. I just wanted to say goodbye. And to thank you, of course, you helped us a lot." He said, eyes never leaving yours.
"Anytime, Doctor," you joked. "I'm gonna miss you. Even if we've just met. Even if you had to be aware of something so terrible." You confessed. His eyes widened at you in surprise.
His eyes. Big, doe eyes glancing at you like you held the answers to the whole universe.
In that moment, you did. Not his education, not PhD's, plural, not anything he learned from all the books he read and certainly not his time in the bureau. You held the answers.
He chuckled, a little shy. Unable to tell you, verbally, that he would miss you, too. His eyes did the job, though. "Yeah, yeah. It was nice knowing you."
"Yeah, it was," you agreed, coming a little closer to him. You gave him a kiss on his cheek. Soft, warm skin against your lips making butterflies swarm in your belly. He smiled, widely, sincerely.
You wished he was yours.
You also wished he knew that you meant that, 'besides the bad guy and all the terrible things, it was fun meeting you because you are full of light. A masterpiece.'
"Take care, okay, doctor?" You whispered, slowly pulling away from him. “I’ll see you around.”
"Be safe,” he wished, “I hope so, in better conditions."
A few days passed and you got your first call from Spencer, which turned into a second, a third and when you noticed, you were scheduling hang outs. Those turned into dates when you started to go out more frequently to every new place you wanted the other to know. All of that and touching each other more often, more carefully, more passionately than regular friends did.
You simply sat there, your memories the only thing keeping you company, haunting you, besides the tears that pricked in the corner of your eyes. You missed him so much. You missed the time you had with him.
Two years into your relationship, things got more and more complicated. You struggled to keep up with his life and more often than not you seemed to keep much to yourselves instead of sharing things with each other. You never thought you'd share (funny wording) such a distant relationship with someone, let alone one you knew for sure there was so much love and respect. During your time together, you learned about Spencer’s past and some pieces fell into place; he was somehow explained by everything he had faced as a child, teenager and now as an adult — his mother’s condition, his dad walking away, the bullying, being abducted and its consequences. You held him through it all, when the memories and feelings of powerlessness washed over him.
Then, Spencer started to be away more often and the physical distance, enforced by the emotional one that slowly grew between you two, made you feel like you were an intruder in his life. So, you gradually started to hold yourself back from starting conversations. You rarely had his attention and you figured it was because his mind was always elsewhere.
Yours was, too. Back in a time when things were simpler.
As time went by, being around him, too quiet and far out of each other’s reach, simply floating in his orbit, felt like a heavy burden you had to carry in order to keep him in your life. He never opened up and since you didn’t either, you felt like you didn't have the right to suggest you two should fix things, so you let him be. Coexisting together in the same space, oceans apart from each other’s lives and struggles, never touching the subject. The result, of course, was that you grew apart.
It all ended, officially, when you decided to move away to get your Doctorate as an excuse to run away from the hard conversations that you knew would take place if you confronted him about where had things, where had you gone so terribly wrong. You were hell-bent on trying to turn your heartbreak and deception into something, into an achievement. Then, you both decided, albeit reluctantly, that breaking up was the best choice for you, since you’d move away. The part that there was already a huge gap between the two of you remained unspoken. You tried convincing yourself that it would be easier, since you’d never have to see him and you'd be okay being in past chapters of Spencer’s life. 
Funnily enough, it wasn't that simple.
You see, the heart is a tricky machine. The wording here is not random: it works, of course, to primarily pump the blood through your veins to make sure you are getting enough oxygen around your body and deliver waste objects, like carbon dioxide, back to the lungs, to be removed — Spencer had told you so once when you told him your heart beat for him in a corny deliver of a joke. Despite the fact that he was right, you can never anticipate how the heart will react once it has no access to the aim of its affections, after being cut off from their life. Worse: after being slowly dragged away from the one it was sure it would be able to adore for the rest of its pumping-function life. You figured that, maybe it would continue working for as long as it needs to, but not with the same devotion it once knew and now was deprived of.
That was how you passed the last few years of your life.
After Spencer, you weren't really interested in anyone. You tried to put yourself out there, made new friends, tried dating some people, traveled abroad, discovered more about yourself. Nevertheless, in the back of your hopeless mind and dejected heart, you held the memories you had created with him close to your very soul. When things got too quiet, it was him that you thought of. On a train, on the way home or to somewhere new and/or special, in the lazy mornings you spent by yourself, in the nights that got too lonely to bear by yourself, during your lunch breaks that you always seemed to remember how much he loved sharing those with you — stealing food from his plate, even if you didn't like whatever he was having, just so he could steal your dessert to make sharing equal. He got a sweet tooth after dating you.
Now, though, something felt off. You had spent years of your life pining and longing and hoping that you'd find your way back to each other in the end that now you didn't have the guts to search for him. You kept an eye on his life and could remember a thing or two of all his achievements and papers that were published in science magazines, a brief abstract ready to roll off your tongue if someone asked you about it. You tried keeping up with his professional life in order to feel closer to him, but the thing was, you didn't know if he had someone else, if he had moved on more easily than you (not that you had), if he had learned to cope a little better with the hardships of his job. You always said he needed some rest for his noisy mind.
Even the air in your hometown made you think of him. Felt like him: distant, missed and still plaguing your thoughts. It was the aftermath of running away for some time.
In hindsight, perhaps you had only shared fleeting moments with Spencer and it was a frail affair, doomed from day one, knowing how different your lifestyles were. When you got too fed up with your longing and inner romanticism over this relationship, you would try to convince yourself that you were better off without him. That being alone was better than to be by yourself in a relationship that you only kept for the sake of calling him yours.
Still, there was something missing. You didn't know what it was, but you were tired of wasting your time, waiting for a bus that never showed.
From afar, Spencer watched, dumbfounded, a figure that resembled someone he once loved so much, sitting on the bench he used to share with you. He still does love. Or maybe he doesn't. He doesn't know, really. He's been through so much, losing loved ones, losing his mother and enduring several trauma after leaving the FBI, never having the time to properly take in the happenings in his life. Could it possibly be you? He could never forget your form, no matter how many years passed and how hard he had tried to do that. His heart started slowing, oxygen lacking in his lungs. He felt dizzy. Was it a mirage?
Or maybe it did, and perhaps you had missed it.
Memories started to flood his mind and he was unable to move.
Daylight faded, announcing the beginning of the evening. Spencer listened as you read to him one of your favorite novels, The Hour of the Star, a Brazilian novel by Clarice Lispector. It definitely wasn't romantic, but you always made sure to use the correct tone whenever you were reading the characters' lines, and you paused every now and then to make comments and listened when he had one of his own. Those were precious, rare, quiet moments in his hectic life. He cherished them because of that, of course, but most importantly because you were with him.
Once you finished the chapter you were reciting, you noticed how dark it already was and that the lights of the city were already on, casting a soft glow over Spencer. He looked exceptionally, effortlessly beautiful that night. You smiled at him. "Shall we go home, Spence?"
"Yes," he accepted, helping you up. You thanked him with a kiss to his cheek, which made him flustered.
Years together and he could never get used to the effect your touch had on him, always wishing he could have more, more, more.
As you walked home together, he took your ring, a gift from him that was usually placed in your left hand, and put it on the one people put wedding rings on. Your reply was to kiss him senseless in public.
He felt like the wind had been knocked out of him when you abruptly broke the kiss, looking back with a mischievous, happy expression on your face. He trailed after you, one single thought in mind: I'll never let you go.
The woman — he didn't want to deceive himself if she wasn't you, he was staring at her back, after all, so he thought it was better to be careful with his hopes —, had longer hair, fit better into her clothes, but her movements were scarily just like yours. From the way she looked around to the slight tilt of her head when you'd contemplate the park all those years ago. Spencer felt his thoughts clouding with the need to approach her, curiosity driving him to work on this instinct, but as soon as he moved to walk, he instantly halted his movements. What would he say?
"Hello?", "Is that you?" "Are you back?" "Are you real?" "Have you forgotten about me?"
The questions swimmed around his head like he had no control over his own mind. If there was a monitor to show every single thought running through his brain, it would definitely collapse, smoke clouding the air, telling how overwhelmed he felt. He decided on approaching as a passerby, walking as if he didn't want anything by it, acting nonchalant. He made his way closer to the bench, to the woman. 
She heard footsteps behind her, not too close, but still turned to search for the source of the disturbance, out of her daydreaming. You looked at each other for a moment that felt like an eternity — time stopped, the children stopped playing and the passersby stopped breathing.
As you turned around, your eyes found Spencer. The love of your life. You took in his appearance. His hair was long, unlike how it had been when you last saw him, and he didn't care about styling it as much as he did when he was younger, his curls unruly and a little messy, a little stubble growing on his face. His expression looked harder now, more tired, ripe. You couldn't quite know how to describe him properly. For a moment, you considered that he had hardened over the years, opposite from the caring, soft man you've met and loved ardently once.
On a surface level, looking at him made you feel like you've been loving a ghost. A memory, something that could never return.
Your mind suddenly felt empty. You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out.
"You?" You heard the question, uncertain, leave his lips in a low voice. Was it in your head or did you sense hurt?
Again, you wanted to speak, to say something, greet him, tell him you've missed him, ask him if he was okay. Nothing came out. Everything seemed inappropriate. Again, he beat you to it, coming closer to you, voice firmer. "What are you... I thought you'd left."
"I did."
"I know."
Silence. He got closer, moving to sit beside you.
"Yeah." Silence. Still looking at each other. "I came back a couple of months ago. Started visiting exactly three weeks ago, today." You revealed to break the silence, even though the idea that everything that came out of your mouth was improper still plagued your mind.
Spencer felt baffled. You looked different, more mature, even your style had drastically changed — you once wore colorful, baggier outfits, full of life and bright shades matching your personality (you even went shopping with Penelope and you exchanged fashion tips), but now, you wore more sober, neutral tones. Instead of the usual sneakers, or the Converse you both loved to wear together to match your outfits — his black and yours blue —, you wore black boots with heels. You looked grown. And it fit you. Still, your face was the same: your eyes held the same glimmer in them from all those years ago, your lips still as inviting as it ever was for him.
He licked his own, realizing his mouth was dry. "I come here every now and then when things get too heated." He confided, eyes never leaving your figure.
You smiled. A hole in his chest, desolation invading his being. The simple act still makes his machine of a heart ache and speed to reach its full capacity. Of breaking for you. "It's peaceful."
You knew that he seeked solace from whatever was happening in your memories together in that place. At least, you hoped so. You hoped, selfishly, that he thought of you as much as you thought of him, of his ghost. That he ached for you as much as you ached for him.
"Yeah."
Awkward silence engulfed the two of you. You didn't know where to look, but you could never stop scanning his face, taking in his features with care. "I like your hair. It fits you," you said.
He got closer, less than an arm's length between the two of you. Almost itching for you to touch his hair, eyes pleading for some mercy on your end. You've been awfully quiet and if meeting him maim you, you certainly have improved your poker face skills. "You've changed," he retorted. "I never thought I'd see you so different from, you know..."
You didn’t remember Spencer at a loss of words.
Too close. "I hope for the better."
"Why didn't you call?" He asked, brows furrowing.
Come to think of it, it was an excuse you had rehearsed quite a few times when you imagined this scenario, “I was settling, still trying to contact everyone, still finding my way around…”
“And you didn’t think of me?” His tone was wounded. He certainly dreamed you’d come back and was positively sure that you’d reach out to him. Of course, he was wrong.
He didn’t know what to say. Of course he would pick up, but there was no way you could know about it nor trust him if he said so; why would you? You had left him because he built walls around him, cutting you off from his life, torturing you, slowly dragging the end of your relationship and he couldn’t explain why. Once you left, Spencer delved into his work life like never before. He flirted with women and even slept around, which he was aware was a poor coping mechanism, all to outrun the desertion of you, desperately wishing he could forget that he could feel alive in your presence. He even tried having a relationship. It was nice having someone around, now that he was grown and had made peace with some of his demons, but it was never like you and it was all that she was to him: someone around. He never felt that spark with her like he had felt with you, never again having a taste of the sensation that ran through him whenever he stumbled excitedly into your apartment when you invited him over, seizing the rare opportunities to be with you, happiness bubbling inside him. With his new girlfriend, it was quiet. He mistook it for the calmness he lacked within himself when he was with you, but it was just bland. Needless to say, he felt awful about straight up using a person to keep his mind off of you, but it was nice while it worked. He started longing for something he couldn’t even describe what it was.
“Of course I did. I just thought you wouldn't pick up,” you replied.
One day, you guys met halfway, between the two cities you were both in. It was raining and you launched yourself into his arms once you recognized him. You had kissed him like a soldier's wife, for you sure definitely missed him like one — he had been away on a case which took longer than usual. “Hi,” you greeted, shyly, after giving him the hottest kiss of his life.
“Hi,” he smiled, a little flushed.
“I couldn't wait to get to you, Spence,” you confessed, arms pulling him back to hug you once again, his own engulfing your figure. “I missed you so much.”
“I missed you too. I miss you all the time.” He said, burying his face into the crook of your neck, wet hair prickling on his skin. He peeled himself away from you, taking a deep breath. “Do you want to be my girlfriend?”
The squealed “Yes!” before you kissed him ardently once more was forever ingrained into his mind.
Amidst his reverie, you stood up from your seat. The wind tousled your hair slightly, so you used your left hand to tuck it behind your ear. The street lights reflected their light on a ring you had on your left hand. He recognized it instantly. “I should go,” you murmured, slightly graceless.
“You still have it.”
You looked at him, still sitting and nodded softly. You were hit with the realization that he also remembered you. It didn’t matter that it was such a small thing about you, relief flooded your veins at the very thought that he thought of you. “I do.”
You waved at him, your lips turned upwards shyly. You turned your back and started walking away from him. Again, he thought. And again, he let you, without putting up a fight, which he was aware that he should have done. The elephant in his chest was a light weight compared to the heavy truth dancing around in his throat. Said truth would become much bigger, a heavier burden for him to carry, once it made its way out of him. Speaking made it real. He knew it because every memory that he kept of you, in a sacred, untouched area of his own consciousness, was full of comfort after sharing uncomfortable truths.
It was like his heart screamed at him to keep searching, to keep trying for the person who made it beat faster. But his brain, foggy with all the logic and terrible, horrid things he had to face, decided it was best to keep himself away from you, to save himself the trouble of being the target of pity, or worse, being another person who left him.
From that day on, you’d casually visit the park, secretly wishing you could see him more. It didn't take too long until your wishes were granted, no matter how private you thought they were. Perhaps they were all over your face and he could still read you so easily. Despite the apparent capacity of reading your wants, you were positively sure that Spencer didn't know what to say, just like you. Everything, including him, felt as distant as you had left it. You weren't sure if you could go back, but running away was just as troublesome: you had to adapt in order to survive, but everyone else surrounding you was already fit to the environment. You stuck out like a sore thumb, unable to connect with anyone but the protagonist from past memories of what once was a happy relationship.
Every time you were there, you sensed someone looking at you shortly after your arrival. It was like an unspoken agreement between the two of you, to try to talk things through without rushing into anything, trying to conquer the other's forgiveness by sharing both ordinary and big moments you had during your time apart. As you sat down and talked and shared, you realized that you'd never stop loving him, not even for a second, not even if you could. You had tried and failed, and kept coming back for more to fall in love with the same person over and over.
These encounters quickly turned into the best moments of Spencer's weeks, getting to be filled in on the things he had missed in your life. You had shown him photos, your new degree, new friends, discussed details about your job and how things were in your family. All of that wrapped in intricate, subtle details on how much you'd turned into a person he was already feeling proud of. You had grown into a strong-willed woman who managed to keep your heart as pure as the day you had met him. You still had the traits that made you fall in love with him.
One day, you two were sitting on the bench and you pointed to your initials on it. “Heh, I remember that day. You kept worrying someone was going to show up and stop me from doing it.”
He smiled. “I'm glad no one did.”
“It's funny, isn't it?” You asked, eyes on the indentation, not expecting him to answer due the lack of context. He frowned. “I mean, us. Acting like we don't know each other just for the sake of spending time together.”
He thought for a moment. With your shameless comment, you were definitely daring him to say something. Daring him to make things real, but better this time. “I like that idea,” he said, getting you to look at him. “Don't you? We get to meet each other again. I get to meet you again and I get to make sure that, this time, I'll never let you go.”
“You still don't know me enough to say that with such sureness,” you said, feeling bashful all of a sudden. It was also one of your behaviors that got him so enthralled, once again. Your capacity of saying something and then act coyly, as if you didn't know what he was talking about. Almost backtracking on whatever you had said that was a little more risky than the usual chatter.
He wouldn't let you.
“I want to.”
His tone made you speechless. Your expression turned into one of sheer, pure enchantment. It told him everything he needed to know.
Everything bad was now under the bridge and you could finally have each other back after being so patient.
He now remembered what it was that he missed so dearly in his life.
You.
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justwonder113 · 2 months ago
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Sharing bed with Seungmin
Chan; Lee Know ; Changbin; Hyunjin; Han; Felix; Seungmin; IN;
My Masterlist
Summary: After facing the horrible and vile beast and hurting your leg in the fight, your best friend offers to let you stay in his house. Where one thing might lead to another. Warning: cursing as always, there's no surprise there. Not proofread. Both Seungmin and Reader are quite goofy. Reader is gender neutral. Mentions of kissing.
A/N- Hey babies! I'mglad to say I'm back and well. I hope you'll like this fic. Reblogs and cooments are greatly appreciated. Feel free to request and send your thoughts if you have any❤️ Word count- 1.8k
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Having your own house is a beautiful experience. It’s like an adventure of having your own kingdom and being a monarch. You have all the privacy and personal space one can dream of; you have peace and quiet; you have freedom to do whatever you want be it walking around butt naked or cooking up a three course meal at  3am; you can have random 3 am dance concerts and so on and so on. Most importantly you could do whatever you wanted to decorate and style it which is what you were busy doing right now.
Lately your Pinterest feed was full of various versions of colorful archways. People came up with so many interesting ways to add a pop of color to their house and it seemed quite easy to do so. So here you were perched on the stool unleashing your inner artist on your archway. Well at least that was the plan. Everything went to gutter when you saw a movement in the corner of your eye. You turned around made eye contact with probably the most disgusting and vile looking grasshopper ever. The horrific appearance of the beast made you scream so hard the beast also got startled and fucking jumped on you! Obviously you lost your shit at that too, your already shaky and unstable stool just couldn’t take it anymore. One second you were screaming your lungs out the next second you were on the floor with your leg hurting like a bitch.
You must have made quite a lot of noise because almost immediately the front door of your house basically burst open and Seungmin rushed towards your hunching figure. You had almost forgotten he was supposed to come over. You had even left your door open for him. Quite convenient, because no way in hell would you be able to stand up and walk towards the door in this state. You sure as hell hoped you didn’t break it.
“Are you okay? What happened?” Seungmin looked frantic as he nervously examined you. You wanted to keep your cool, you really did. But the pain and the shock took over your senses and the next thing you knew you were bawling your eyes out as Seungmin, confused and unsure of what to do, cradled your body close to his frame and tried to calm you down.
You were unsure of what happened next. You were pretty out of it. Maybe out of shock maybe because of the painkillers, who knows. Seungmin did most of… Well basically everything. He helped you get ready, took you to the hospital, did basically all the talking with the doctors, stayed with you through every procedure… He even took care of all the paperwork, bought all the meds and not once did he complain about anything! Even more, he bought you to his house! Well he said because you couldn’t be trusted to be alone but you knew it was because he was worried, also you did complain quite a lot about being afraid of the beast lurking in your house. With your foot strained like this there wasn’t even a possibility for you to run away from the hideous creature.
If you thought that he wasn’t husband material before (oh no you were totally not crushing on your best friend, not at all!), he even made you dinner, which was just finger licking good! He made sure to step away to his room to make a call, but you could still hear how he asked Minho for tips. How could you not love him? He even called Minho! He hated asking him for help. He looked so good doing everything too, all you could think about was how you wanted to kiss him.
“You’re the best Minnie.” You cheered as he helped you get to bed. He insisted that you take his bed, refusing to hear you protest. You loved how he always acted like everything was such a bother and then went out of his way to do it.
“Shut it, I’m only letting you sleep on my bed because knowing your clumsy ass you’ll fall of the sofa and further injure yourself!” He grumbled as he tucked you in like you were a literal child.
“Aww you do care about me.” You couldn’t help but tease.
Seungmin only scoffed – “Don’t push it!”
“I love you too!”- You mused, he rolled hie eyes at that but you could have sworn the corner of his lips lifted up. He was about to leave but you reached in just in time to grab his hand. Seungmin looked taken aback for a second but quickly gathered himself. “Please stay?” You made sure to do your best puppy eyes and it worked! Seungmin immediately caved, but being a stubborn ass, he is he just plopped on you. Careful to not touch your leg but still with enough force to squish you.
Honestly, jokes on him because you only saw this as an opportunity to wrap your hands around him and tightly hug him. He “tried” to get free but you knew that this softie enjoyed the hug, the big ass smile on his face confirmed it. In mere sounds he stopped resisting and continued to just flop on you.
“What are you doing?” He huffed out while his face was adorned with the prettiest smile ever. God you couldn’t understand how could he say anything bad about his smile or even think of hiding it. It was always so innocent and pure. It never failed to put a smile on your face, to light up your whole world.
“Showing how thankful I am?!” – To further prove your point you leaned in and gave him the fastest smooch on his cheek. Seungmin made sure to grimace as dramatically as possible, but as always, his arms wrapping around your waist told whole another story about how he felt.
“Oh really? By kissing my cheek?” What a little shit. Now it was your time to roll your eyes. “Are you insinuating I should kiss you elsewhere?” You tried to not sound as hopeful as you actually felt.
Seungmin barked out a teasing laugh-“As if you could, you don’t have the guts for it!”
You quickly let go of him and crossed your arms to show your disdain, with equally matching scowl adorning your face. That didn’t stop him from hugging your frame, in fact he tightened his hold around your waist. “How dare you sir!”
Seungmin looked at you with challenging look, his eyes full of amusement. “What? Are you going to kiss me then?” His voice was teasing, you couldn’t tell if he was actually for real or not. You couldn’t’ tell if you should challenge him or not.
“I just might!” – You challenged, thinking that you just might as well go with it. You could always play as if you were joking. You hated hiding your true feelings but anything was better than possibly losing him as a friend.
“What are you waiting for then?”? You thought you knew him the best but you couldn’t really decipher what his face meant. Was he actually for real? Were you two about to cross the line that could possibly ruin your friendship either for the best or for the worst?
“Don’t you dare regret it!” You whispered against his lips. When did Seungmin’s face get so close? With every breath your lips slightly brushed against each other. You could smell the minty smell of his toothpaste. God you were really about to do it!
“Wouldn’t dream of it love.” His voice was low, almost like a whisper. God, you couldn’t resist him anymore. Here went nothing. Bringing him closer with his face you finally connected your lips together.
His lips were a bit cold and chapped but nonetheless you loved how they felt against yours. Your whole heart was bursting with joy. Every drag of your lips against each other felt like heaven, you couldn’t help but lean in for more. Seungmin must have also felt that way because he also kissed you like a starved man, like you were oxygen he needed to breathe. His hands had shifted from around your waist, one hand held your hip tightly while the other migrated to your neck and softly rested there. You also couldn’t keep your hands to yourself, your one arm was wrapped around his shoulders as the other still held his cheek to have him as close as possible. His lips were almost addictive like a drug you didn’t know needed in your life you just couldn’t get enough.
Unfortunately for you, you had to lean back to get some air. You always thought that oxygen was overrated anyway but biology or whatever. Seungmin also seemed unimpressed to be away from your lips but that still didn’t stop him from covering your whole face and neck with sweet kisses.
“I thought I was the one supposed to be the one saying thanks?” You couldn’t help but giggle as he kissed the ticklish spot on your neck. Seungmin looked up to you for a second then quickly got up. Your heart clenched at the idea that you might’ve done something wrong but he immediately washed away those worries by walking around the bed and laying down on the bed next to you, under the same queen size cover.
You looked at him with wide eyes as he got more comfortable laying on his back and opened his arms for you almost like an invitation. “All done!”
“What are you doing Min?” A smile crept up your face as you examined his mischievous smile.
“I just got more comfortable, you can thank me as much as you want now.” Seungmin answered proudly with the prettiest smirk adorning his face.
 You couldn’t help but mirror the expression. “You’re such a brat sometimes. What should I do with you?”
As if seriously thinking things over Seungmin furrowed his eyebrows and to be extra dramatic crossed his arms. You loved how giddy he felt after your kiss. It felt nice knowing you weren’t the only one losing your shit on the inside.
Seungmin smiled, and you knew immediately he was about to smartass you. You tried to turn away from him to not give him the satisfaction but he was quicker. He wrapped his arms around you and brought you closer to his body, his forehead gently resting on yours. “You love me!” After rolling your eyes at his goofyness you sighed in defeat and relaxed into the hug.
“You know what? I do.” You leaned in and sealed your lips again to further confirm your feelings. You would have hurt your leg a long time ago if you knew it things would end up like this.
Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated^^
Taglist (feel free to either comment or massage me if you want to be added to my taglist ❤️) : @velvetmoonlght
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gojonanami · 1 year ago
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"JUST A LITTLE LONGER" - SATORU GOJO
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✴︎ summary: after geto defects, you find yourself on a roof of a building wondering where things went wrong - and you're not the only one. based off another scene from apothecary diaries. ✴︎ contents: gojo x f!reader, fluff, angst about geto, gojo cries, reader does too a little, but cuddling from behind, i love this scene so much it's so cute, and jinshi is so gojo coded ✴︎ wc: 821
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This was probably a stupid idea. 
And it was, you knew that, but it didn’t stop you from doing it anyway. A cursed spirit could kill you any day, so what was falling off a roof? Besides, you took another shot of sake, you couldn’t quite bring yourself to care about the possible chance of falling to your death after today. 
Suguru was gone. 
Defected, after slaughtering so many people — or monkeys as he called them now. There was no changing his mind — no going back. Suguru was a person of conviction — you supposed he still was. Shoko simply went with the flow, Satoru knew what his duties were, and you — you didn’t know what you were doing, but you thought maybe it was enough if you could help just one person every day. Especially if that person was one of your friends. 
And yet you didn’t see one of your friends needing your help, did you? 
So why were you sitting up on the roof of one of Jujutsu Tech’s buildings? You didn’t know either — you had a whole suite of aloneness you could have drank in, but you choose to take a shot in the same place that you, Suguru, Shoko, and Satoru drank in on late nights between assignments. 
Shoko would tease you — too sentimental for your own good — that’s what she always told you, but you couldn’t help it. Not after a night like this. But sitting up here wouldn’t resolve anything would it? 
And you began to carefully climb down, thinking about how much easier it was when Suguru used a cursed spirit to help you up (even when he really wasn’t supposed to summon them on campus). Fuck, your eyes burn with tears. You missed him— 
Your foot slips, as you fall backwards, into the awaiting arms — more like the awaiting body of someone below. You hear a grunt as you tumble backwards into them, your body and mind in shock, wondering what person you possibly murdered with your stupidity. 
“Satoru? What are you doing here?” 
“I should be asking you that,” Satoru grumbled at you as you turned to face him, “y'know when I joked that you would be falling for me, this isn’t what I meant,” 
“Oh really? Because this is exactly what I had in mind,” you snort, and you move to get up, but he’s pulling you back with a hand around your wrist, “Toru, let me get off of you—” 
“No, it’s cold,” he pouts, and now you really take a look at him — he wasn’t wearing his glasses for once, his hair unkempt at best, and his uniform all too disheveled — and his face, porcelain skin flushed red — and the faint smell of—was that— “are you drunk?” Satoru wasn't one to drink, but you supposed it wasn't for the act of it as it was the effect.
And it may have been the moonlight, but you swore he flushed further, before he’s forcing you to turn back around, pulling you further into his lap, his arms around your middle, “Maybe,” he mumbles, “I could say the same to you,” and you spot the bottle of sake on the ground in the grass, somehow not broken, “reminiscing about old times?” he pressed his forehead against your shoulder. 
“Yeah,” you sigh, teeth baring down on your bottom lip, as his breath warmed your neck, his hair tickling your skin as he leaned closer, “when did it go wrong?” 
“More like when did i go wrong?” he mutters, words all too bitter, “I should have seen it — I should have done more—” 
“No one saw it, we didn’t realize how bad it had gotten for him since Riko,” you whispered, “none of us—” 
“You weren’t his best friend—” 
“Me and Shoko were there too,” you cut him off, “we were there too,” you say quietly, “either way, Suguru made his choices, just as we did. And there’s nothing more we can do, except for what we can do here,” and then you add, “and it isn’t your fault.” 
“Why not?” 
“Because i said so,” and he laughs then, a genuine laugh. 
“Yes, ma’am,” he replies, before burying his face in the nape of your neck, his nose tickling you, and despite the cool air of the approaching fall, your body was now burning. 
“Toru—you’re tickling me—” and he’s only pulling you closer, as you finally glance back at him, “Toru—” and your words fall away, as you see a tear slip down his cheek, his eyes shut. 
“Just a little longer,” he says, barely above a whisper, his face pressed against your shoulder again, as his arms tighten around your middle, “warm me up for a little bit more,” 
You stare up at the night sky, stars dotting the night sky — such a beautiful night despite it all — as you finally let your tears slip down your cheeks silently, “I’ll stay as long as you want.” 
And you did, forever. 
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✴︎ a/n: i hope this doesn't flop like my other fics lately, but oh well lol. i wrote this quick little thing now, so forgive any typos.
✴︎ taglist: @forest-hashira, @anondrive, @neon-crow, @forest-fruits-jam, @yukuriku, @lxvegojo
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inkskinned · 1 year ago
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no, but really, we need to talk about the casual objectification that has become the fallback discourse of the internet: if you're pretty and dressed nicely, you're a slut. and if you're even vaguely outside of their body standard, you're fucking disgusting.
too-frequently, people position sex workers as being "the problem". they sneer you're addicted to pornography, you don't know what a real woman looks like. but real women are in pornography. the real bodies on display are not the issue here: the issue is that other people feel extremely confident when commenting on someone's physique.
2000's super-thin is slowly worming its way back into the public ideal. recently i saw someone get told to "go for a run", despite the fact she was on the thinner side of average. not that it would ever be appropriate to say that: but it's kind of like sticker shock when you see it. people think that is fat? holy shit. do they just have no idea about things?
but what are you going to do about it? that's the problem, right. because chances are - you're a normal person. we can say normalize carrying fat on your body, but we are not the billion-dollar diet industry. we are not the billion-dollar fashion industry. we are just, like. people. who are trying to make content on the internet, without being treated shittily.
as someone who has been on both sides of things: you are treated better when you are thin and pretty. this is statistically correct. i am not saying that you cannot be bullied for being thin; i'm saying there are objective institutional biases against certain bodytypes. there are videos of men and women who lost weight all saying: i now know for a fact exactly how much worse you're treated. in the comments, some asshole inevitably says something akin to you deserved to be dehumanized when you were fat.
which means that ... the easiest thing to do is be pretty and thin. it is the path of least resistance, because of course it is, because any time you post a picture of yourself without a thigh gap, someone immediately comments something like you need to try a diet.
the other half is also dehumanizing though, huh, just in a different way. when i put on makeup and nice clothes, i am told i slept my way to the top as a professional. do you know how many women in STEM have told me they purposefully dress to "unimpress" because they already struggle to be taken seriously and if they're ever considered pretty - it for some reason takes away from their authority.
so they make it seem like it's your fault. you, existing in a body - it's your fault! if you didn't want shitty comments, don't have a body. they position us against each other like chess pieces; vying for male attention we don't even need.
and i can be an authority on this unless you think i'm fat and unattractive. when i am pretty and thin, i'm an activist. when i am just a normal person who makes a good point: i am immediately dismissed. nobody fucking believes you if you're not seen as attractive. you literally lose value. you cease to exist.
but the whole time, it feels like - is anyone actually grounded the fuck in reality? the line of "pretty and thin" keeps shifting. nobody seems to understand what "a normal weight" even looks like, because it's not something that exists - you cannot tell a person's health by looking at their body. even if you think you could tell that, even if you're sure a person is dangerously overweight - people are not your dolls. they do not need to be dressed up or displayed properly to soothe your aesthetics. you aren't concerned for them, you're stealing their agency. you don't get to say if they're "allowed" to take pictures and post them on the internet - you don't get to tell them how to exist.
people hide behind "the obesity epidemic" without any actual qualifications. they crow things about "normalizing unhealthiness".
but it's bullshit. i have visible abs. there is a pair of parallel lines on my body, even when i'm relaxed; where my obliques meet my abdominal wall. i am proud of this because it means i'm strong, because i overcame an eating disorder only to be ripped as fuck. it is genetic and physical luck that i even get any definition, i'm pleased as punch.
but it does mean that my abdominal wall sticks out a little bit. the other day i posted a video of myself dancing, and, for a moment, my shirt slipped. you could see a little bit of my stomach. i was cartwheeling to the floor. moments before this, i'd had my foot over my head.
a guy slid into my DMs. a row of vomiting emojis prefaced: you should really lose some weight before you think about dancing.
i stared at it for a long time. there was a time when i would have been triggered by this, where it would have encouraged me to starve myself. i would have ignored the fact i'm flexible, agile, good at jumping: i would have lost the weight for a stranger's passing comment. i would have found myself and my body fucking disgusting.
and for what? to please what? because why? so that he can exist in this world without an unchallenged eyeball? what would my self-hatred even accomplish? usually i write paragraphs. obviously. on this particular occasion, in this body i've been at war with for ages: i just felt exhausted.
it shouldn't be even worth saying. it shouldn't be hard to explain. all of this emotional turmoil when he cannot even comprehend the most basic truth: i am not an object on display for him.
#spilled ink#writeblr#warm up#like if im getting fatshamed. babe......... wake up#is there fat on my body? yes :)#btw this behavior wouldn't be okay even if I WAS overweight!!! that is my point!!!#it is both that people have no idea what weight is supposed to look like#and even if they DID... they do not seem to understand that PEOPLE ARE NOT DOLLS#YOU DO NOT GET TO TELL THEM HOW TO EXIST#if you respond anything akin to ''but raquel there IS an obesity epidemic''#you're blocked and reported.#go fucking DONATE TO A FOOD BANK THEN. volunteer in a food desert. start a free fitness program#GO GET A DEGREE AS A MEDICAL PROFESSIONAL AND PRACTICE IN NUTRITION IN UNDERPRIVILEDGED LOCATIONS#FIGURE OUT HOW TO LOWER FOOD COSTS. FIGURE OUT HOW TO NORMALIZE AND STANDARDIZE#ACCESS TO FARM-FRESH FOOD. PROVIDE ACTUAL FREE ACCESS TO OUTSIDE ACTIVITIES#FIGURE OUT HOW TO TEACH PEOPLE HEALTHY CHOICE MAKING WHILE ALSO LOWERING THE COST OF MEALS.#THE AVERAGE GROCERY BILL OF THE AMERICAN CITIZEN HAS QUADRUPILED IN THE LAST YEAR.#SHUT. THE FUCK. UP!!!!!!!!!#you don't want to help these people!!!!!#you want to bully them but still feel like a good person!#you want to be justified in your hatred of an entire CLASS of people!!!#you don't give a fuck about how it makes them feel!!!!#you care ONLY about whether or not YOU get to VIRTUE SIGNAL that YOURE so thin and pretty!!!!#it is BECAUSE of people like you#and the fact you tolerate fatphobia - BECAUSE of that normalization. that men like the one who called me fat#feel like they can get away with it.#bc there's a line for you where you WOULD be okay with it. where if i WASNT thin you'd be okay with it.#which means the line can always be pushed in a certain direction. and it's always going to appeal to male aesthetics.#''well you didn't deserve it'' maybe fucking NOBODY does babe. maybe we should just all agree not to comment on ppls bodies!!
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aethelwyneleigh27 · 1 year ago
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Some Dad!Cod Character Scenario and Appreciation Post
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Characters In Mind: Simon "Ghost" Riley, John "Soap" MacTavish, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Alejandro Vargas, Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra, Alex Keller, König, Keegan P. Russ, Gary "Roach" Sanderson.
The original creator of the picture, they also have so many works that are used in so many fanfics as well so please credit her. I found her account here on Tumblr (@ave661) and here is the post.
AFAB!Reader and used pronouns are "you"
Apologies if this is a bit too short but;
ꕥ HOPE YOU ENJOY! ꕥ
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A/n: I've had a good but also bad week (good thanks to @puff0o0 and other extremely sweet mutuals), it's neutral, I'm not here to rant of any sort but my personal life has not been good. I understand that not everyone will like me but it feels as though everyone hates me, most of those people happen to be at school. Sure I'm not really going to do anything about it because I prefer avoiding conflict but those same people are trying to flip the story around as if I'm the one who hates them when in reality I don't and by being mean to me they're giving me a reason to dislike them. Sure I'm average academically, sometimes I have difficulty pulling my weight in group works and I'm not outstanding in reportings but we all have our difficulties. I just don't understand people who love to hate on others because they have nothing better to do.
This is a word of advice to everyone, don't let others let you feel insignificant, you aren't and you have many talents that make you different from them. (I don't really practice what I preach because I love self-deprication, however I don't want people to feel the way I do because I know what it can cause)
Disclaimers/warnings: OOC??, Pregnancy, Implied birth, Children (Pretty sure that was obvious from the title), People who don't want/hate children be warned.
Short note: This is also a dedication to all the Mistki and Hozier fans out there <3
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He was so used to the smell of hospitals, the smell of medication, it always indicated death for him but this was a whole new feeling. It was the opposite of what he has seen most of his life
So much so that he refused to hold them, afraid of potentially hurting the fragile little one. He looked at you as if you were crazy when you tried to hand him the baby, "Come on now love, you can't just avoid holding them forever" you said to him as of it was a life or death situation.
Hesitantly letting you guide him through the proper way to hold them, he felt his breath hitch at the sound of cooing. The first time the baby opened it's eyes, the first thing they saw being their dad.
The moment he looked at the baby sealed it, he was going to protect them their whole life, he would go as far as feeling all the guilt of having blood on their hands again if it meant your baby would be protected and cared for.
The baby was so small that it's little head was practically the size of his palm, he didn't know initially what to do when the baby cried and shocked himself when he managed to make them stop.
Once the baby was old enough to crawl, he'd let the baby crawl all over him. The little one babbling non-sense while he just chuckled and replied as if he understood what the baby was saying. Gods be damned if he misses an important milestone such as their first word or their first time walking.
You'd often wake up to seeing him shirtless snoozing on the couch, the tv playing only ads for home appliances late at night while the baby only in a diaper having skin to skin contact with their dad, his huge hand big enough to support the little one from falling.
He almost cried the first time your baby reached for his face an touched it, resting it's tiny little fingers on his cheek, giving him a gummy smile. His little one unaware that they just healed something they never broke.
He NEVER wants to ever see your little one grow up, though sure it makes more memories with them, sometimes they just wish time stops for a second so they can enjoy the moment longer.
Initially was terrified that he'd pass his trauma down but he realized that wouldn't be possible and he will NOT ever let them go through what he did.
Eventually chose to resign from his work because the risk was far too much, what if he died? He'd leave you and your child to grieve over him? He won't be there for them growing up and he'd miss everything.
Sure he's worked most his life to get where he is now but nothing is ever worth more than spending a lifetime with you and your child together. He's been lonely almost all his life until he met you.
You are his family, his everything. He promised that whatever happens, he'll crawl home to you...
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malereadermaniac · 7 months ago
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Drinking games ~ Your Crush x Male Reader
Some cute sfw shit with your 'straight' male crush who has a secret soft spot for you word count: 1.3k m!reader (no genitalia mentioned) / FDNI
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The few private moments you had shared with (Y/c) were sweet, even romantic at a push if you sprinkle in some 'delusion'
The man would chat to you, seemingly remembering most details you had shared with him in previous conversations, his (e/c) eyes looking over your features gently as he throws in some jokey flirts; his charisma through the roof, his hand's in his pockets and a smirk on his face as he calls you cute or funny
Moments like those almost, just almost make you forget that (y/c) is in fact a straight man, very much heterosexual
(Y/c) is quite popular, and damn is he very different around his friends than when he's has a very rare moment alone with you
When with his friends, the (h/c) barely spares you a glance, acting all nonchalant around his friends and replying with a 'sup' after you say hi to him - his friends teasing him about his 'friendship with you'
But again, when the two of you have a brief moment alone things are different
The slightly (taller/shorter) man will subconsciously go out of his way to text you or to see you by using almost every excuse under the sun; he needs help with an assignment? Of course you'll help, he missed a lecture? You make time to tutor him!
But either way, you knew that you attempts at 'flirting' and your heart rate increasing anytime you saw (Y/c) was realistically futile - the man was straight, and he barely tolerated you too
When you thought about it, the (h/c)'s friends make fun of him for talking to you, and he only really hangs out with you to get shit out of it; you two weren't actually even friends
Or so that's what you thought...
It came as a real shock when you got a text at 6pm on a random Saturday from (Y/c) who was inviting you to a party he was hosting
Not only were you surprised that he was hosting the party but also that you were invited
"I thought you hated hosting? lmao" you reply almost instantly, good god get some self-respect bro
"I do"
"I want you there to make it more tolerable"
The way blood rushed to your face faster than ever before, my lord
"I suppose i can clear my very busy schedule for you 🙄 "
And that's how you ended up at your first ever party! Well, at least a huge house party, unlike the small functions you had gone to with friends
After being greeted with many drunk people, made nicer by the alcohol in their system, you aimed to make your way to (Y/c); that was until you got dragged away by a group of people greeting you and inviting you to drink
It was surprisingly chill, you were enjoying yourself in the kitchen as you sat on a counter-top, drink in hand as you chatted with the other people you were with - laughing and gossiping
Eventually, word made its way to (Y/c) that you had turned up, and immediately the man made his way towards his kitchen
He couldn't explain why his heart dropped when he saw you talking and laughing with other guys, but it did, and he made his way towards you with a face like stone, aiming to hide his emotions
"(Y/c)! I found youuu!" you chuckle out endearingly, clearly a little tipsy already
"Hey, was lookin' for you... Looks like you made yourself at home" The man teased, his body quite close to yours, the counter-top bringing you to his height
You mumble an 'oh shit, sorry' as you jump down from the food surface, you body pushing against (Y/c)'s as you do so
"Nah it's fine, enjoy yourself.... wanna come hangout with my friends? They're becoming unbearable" The handsome man chuckles, looking exhausted by his drunk friends
You, of course, agree and make your may towards his group of friends in the (h/c)'s living room
Even when drunk, (Y/c)'s friends teased him about having you around, but shockingly, once the (taller/shorter) man saw you expression sour, he told his mates to 'fuck off' - well that made your heart skip a couple of beats!
After hanging out with your handsome crush for an hour or so, more and more people joined the group, people drinking more and more - even (Y/c) feeling comfortable enough to drink with you around
However, a situation arose when someone suggested a game of 'spin the bottle' with a truth or dare twist...
Of course everyone agreed, the alcohol in their system making them much more excitable than usual, and if the activity didn't involve anything getting broke, (Y/c) was cool with it
After a couple of rounds of people being dared to kiss other, secrets being revealed and gross 'would you rather' questions, you were getting progressively more drunk - having opted out of back flipping off of the couch and revealing your fat crush on (Y/c) just to name a few scenarios
(Y/c) was a little worried for you, seeing how drunk you were getting was making him feel overprotective of you - but man did you also look fucking cute!
Your cheeks flushed and your eyes droopy from the liquor, leaning up against him with you warm body as you chuckle for no reason from time to time
Inevitably, the bottle had landed on you once more, causing you to sit up and give everyone a chuckle after whining loudly 'not againnnnnnn~'
But the crowd was definitely silenced when the spinner of the bottle dared you to kiss someone - specifically, some guy you were cozy-ing up with when you first arrived at (Y/c)'s
You chuckle lightly when you see the man blush, his desire for you to kiss him evident on his face - the man had been trying it on with you since you got here!
But as you struggle to get up, wobbling around from the drinking, (Y/c) had shocked everyone
You watch with a fat fuck-off blush on your face as (Y/c) stands up and grabs the bottle from the middle of the circle, downing the whole thing and saying with a nonchalant tone - 'what? he's too drunk to drink anymore'
This man just took a drink for you! HOW FUCKIN ROMANTIC IS THAT???
You hadn't noticed it, but the (h/c) man had drank a lot throughout the night, and he'd even taken that drink for you but seemed literally sober
(Y/c) must have a real high alcohol tolerance, the thought of the big, handsome man being able to handle his drink so well and even be willing to take a drink for you? You had fallen for him all over again then and there!
Some of the people in the circle boo and other hype (Y/c) up, to which he just chuckles and shakes his head as he slings an arm of yours over his shoulders and lifts you up with a hand around your waist
And after the difficult trip up three flights of stairs to the man's bedroom, he gently lays you down on his bed and brings you a bowl to throw up in
You two spend hours up in his room, talkin about many, many things - like his room being cool, you being cute drunk, him being handsome always, you feeling bad that he's missing the party, him professing that he'd rather spend his time with you, and your long conversation had ended with you professing your undying love to your two year ongoing crush
You blushed and slammed your hands against your mouth, shouting that you were dreaming and that 'this wasn't happening!', trying to trick yourself into thinking that the amused man would just forget about this in the morning
He didn't.
(Y/c) remembered every moment in vivid detail... and so did you
But what you didn't expect was for the man to in turn, the morning after, confess that he too had some affectionate, maybe even loving feelings towards you - and also that he was extremely impressed that you didn't even throw up after drinking as much as you did!
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pixiesholloworld · 4 months ago
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✭୨୧˚LIKE SHAY SHAY!˚୨୧✭
synopsis⟿ after a heated argument with your boyfriend sukuna, he tries to smooth things out by treating you to something special…
not proofread and kinda shitty
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sukuna was really passionate about being with you.. like over the top passionate he fell for you almost instantly when he saw you for the first time at the grocery store, his eyes tracing your curves taking note on how they hugged up on your tube top and tiny little shorts. He tried to play it cool, not saying too much of anything, you thought he was kind of corny because of it but it was cute. so of course when you gave this mysterious beefcake a chance he wouldn't spare a single second not doting after you.
you heard the way he talked to others- how he spoke to them like they were below him, you knew how he pushed his way to the top of his job, selling drugs, guns, and many many other "services". he knew how to get his way with others whether it was by force or reason, more importantly how he wasn't ever up for being the bigger person— all that matters to him is being able to prove a point. sukuna wasn't one for high roads when it came to other people.. but you?
oh you had him whipped, its honestly a shock to anyone how a crybaby like you ended up with such a brute man. though anytime he did happen to upset you he immediately apologizes in his own aggressive yet gentle way, willing to go above and beyond just to get in your good graces again. its so out of character for him to care about a person this much, so much so that his friends are convinced you did some type of voodoo on him, forcing him to act right or else. so when you left to work in the midst of a heated argument you weren't surprised to see that he had — yet again — sent a bouquet of your favorite flowers with a note:
"take off and i’ll make it up to you doll
i pinky promise"
you scoff at his appealing message, moving the flowers to the backroom of your job. who does he think he is? sending you flowers when you're clearly upset with him, does ignoring his first 50 calls mean nothing? with his perfect handwriting and perfect attention to detail. i guess dating a jailbird had its perks..
"trouble in paradise again?" your coworker snickers.
you roll your eyes and stuff the note in your pocket, you had another 7 hours here and you weren't going to let sukuna seduce you out of a well earned paycheck.. even IF he would've paid you double the amount to go home to him. but if sukuna had to admit it that same level of pettiness is exactly why he's with a woman like you
later that night you drove home, exhausted, hungry and still angry, you turn the keys to your apartment to see sukuna pulling pizza out the oven, its almost as if he read your mind. you drag yourself over to your shared room plopping on the bed, trying to relax and push your angry thoughts down but it all washes away when a familiar warmth creeps upon your back "hey sweet lady" his husky voice cutting though the tension and shooting right through your heart. you hated being mad at him but you couldn't help it how could he forget about the ONE thing that upsets you the most?! you pull away from his touch curling up into a ball
"awh don't be like that doll"
"you yelled at me.." you mumble through a choked up throat. he curls up against you, his thumb circling your temple. You loved how warm he felt on your back and it was nice that he remembers your love language even if you are being a bit unreasonable. anytime sukuna raises his voice just a smidge you get all teary eyed "so that's what this is all about?" he hums, pulling you closer to him by your waist, "i'm sorry sweetie-"
you cut him off, just wanting to say what you didn't have the words to say earlier, "i just don't understand why you have to work so late," you pull his large hand off of your head and hold it in front of your face, tracing along the lines and calloses that scar his skin, "i just miss you s'all" he heard you loud and clear, "hey," he gently called, grabbing your face and turning it towards him so you can look him in the eyes while he says this, "i don't really like workin' that late either but money doesn't make itself". He pushes the strands of braids out our face so he can get a good look at you, grabbing your chin and rubbing his thumb against it, "i miss you when i'm gone too baby but we can make the most of our time right now"
you let out a relaxed sigh feeling a sense of relief now that you both know what you were trying to say, you look him in his crimson eyes and crack a soft smile. "so.. are we friends again?" he playfully asks, you shake your head yes and pull him in for a kiss. he returns the favor 10 fold of course. locking you in his arms as he peppers kisses in the crook of your neck and on your face until suddenly your eyes lock and for what feels like an eternity, the world stops. without a second thought the two of you started taking your clothes off exchanging kisses in between rushed breaths.
this wasn’t a normal thing for you two, you were never one to initiate makeup sex you’d rather cuddle and watch a movie. though sukuna admittedly has been dreaming of this moment, where he finally gets to show you how sorry he really is. he doesn’t spare a moment yanking your work clothes off of you, crashing his lips into yours he steals the taste he craved right out of your mouth. your lust filled whimpers were oh so sweet to him, you were practically begging him for more and he was gonna give you every. single. inch.
he pulls his mouth from yours watching how your your pleading eyes gloss over, you move a hand up to the nape of his neck before pulling his ear close to your mouth
"let me ride it"
though you were known as a crybaby to everyone sukuna knew the dirty girl that hid deep inside you, it was a side of you that only he could access and he loved every bit of that. due to this fact a wide smile creeps up on his face when you double down, "you heard me?"
"you didn't have to say nuthin' but a word princess"
he rolls over on his back pulling you right over him, your leaking entrance hanging right over his angry, pink tip begging to let it explore your insides. your eyes trail from sukuna's happy trail all the way up to his hungry eyes, he's not one to rush but you can tell he's growing impatient as his thumbs massage the sides of your plush hips
"enjoying the view?"
you suck your teeth and steady his head over your slit slowwwly pushing down until every inch of him fits snugly into your wet crevasse, you wince at the sudden stretching it's not something you're sure you'll ever get use to. you start slowly at first dragging yourself ever so slowly trying to get him all worked up, you can tell its working because of how intense his stare is.
his hands worked over to your tits squeezing and cupping them ever so gingerly,, he was trying to be patient,, his breath hitches a bit as you press your small hands on his chest. "been thinking of that pussy all day" he admits, one of his hands move under your ass squeezing the fat and lightly spanking it demanding a yelp out of you, "you get my gift?"
"mmhm~" you answer, picking up your pace just a bit more, he smiles at this and sneakily moves his other hand under your ass, spanking it again just so he can hear you yelp
"you like it?" he asks, eyes switching between watching your pussy swallow him whole and your cute little face. if your blush could be seen you're sure you'd look as red as a tomato by now, seeing him look at you so intently like this made you feel so dizzy. you move your head down to his ear once more
"i loved it"
unbeknownst to you this would be the final straw to push sukuna over the edge, he loves to be praised and he was gonna show you exactly what your words do to him. using the hands underneath your ass he tilts you towards his chest and immediately starts drilling into you, you can feel yourself clutching around his girth, deep groans escape his mouth as he fucks tiny whimpers and slutty squelches out of yours
you can feel sukuna's body temperature raise almost the instant your breasts are pressed against him, he thrusts faster, the sound of your bodies along with your desperate cries filled his ears, pap, pap, pap! he grew harder at the the thought that you could be heard in the surrounding rooms of your apartment though his main motivation was how loud he could make you scream his name. oh how he loved to make you scream, he’d feel you clawing at him as your broken up mewls fueled his boner it was almost like a reward and he knew exactly how to get more of what he was chasing after
he quickly pops his dick out and flips you on your back, "there's my pretty girl," he coos, "need to see that cock drunk face before i finish" he slams his lips into yours once more slipping his dick inside in the process. he places a hand on your stomach feeling how your soft pretty skin heats up to his touch he places another behind your head and starts up again. deep, drawn out thrusts just how his lady likes it, he felt how your gummy walls squeezed at the sudden change in tempo, making his stomach tense up and drill into you even deeper
"fuuckk, keep goin' woman," he buries his head into the crook of your neck, his thrusts becoming quicker and sloppier the more you called out his name, he looked down to see the concupiscent amounts of cream on his cock— so lewd, the sight of it made a muted whimper escape his lips. he was gonna blow soon and you could tell, "you feel so good mama" he breathes out, his voice so low yet wispy, it sent electric bolts straight to your clit. he doesn’t let up though, thrusting deeper as if he was trying to break through your cervix "'k-kuna~, 'kuna~" you manage to gasp out, you lock him in your gasp with your legs, "don't stop- god please don't stop!~" you felt breathless yet hot, your soft hands felt around his hardened body looking for something, anything to keep you grounded
"m'here baby, shit- m'gonna cum" he groans, lifting himself up to stare in your eyes before you both come to your inevitable finish. a hand reaches up to his face and another on his heartbeat, you felt how hard it was thumping, how hard his body was working in this moment. you could feel him working himself through your pussy until he hits that one spot, causing your mouth to drop right open. you start tearing up you and let out a loud scream, squirt uncontrollably splashes all over his pelvis making him give a loud, guttural groan
“i-i love you ‘kuna— fuuckk!~ iloveyou!” these were the last intelligible words spoken by you before the rest turned into a slurry mess, you babbled on and on repeating iterations of ‘i love you’. normally sukuna would stop and tease you for it but he was already about to blow
the best he can do is he let you ride out your orgasm, he moved his thumb down to your clit and started rubbing sensual circles over it, "give it all t'me" he commands still rolling his hips into your tight, swollen cunt. he watches as your facial expressions change. he loved how you’d squeeze your eyes so tightly and leave your mouth open nice and wide, "that's it,” he purrs “what a sweet girl", he bends down to kiss your forehead feeling how your body shakes beneath him, “you love me?”
“yes! yes!~”
“you’re not just sayin that ‘cause i fuck you good?”
“i love you ‘kuna” you breathe out between sobs, he wipes the tears from your eyes and shushes you, planting kisses on your face which to his surprise makes your pussy sieze up squirt a little again.
as he tries to drag himself out he finds that he can’t, he places his hands on the side of your head, feeling his legs begin to shake, he lets out a low, desperate grunt throwing his head back while thrusting until he fills you up to the brim with hot, thick spurts of cum. he watches how it combines with your juices, letting the feeling totally control him until finally his muscles relax and his body gives out
“i love you too woman” he breathes out
your legs fully give out at this point, tired from the sudden boost of serotonin, taking note of this he pulls out and lays next to you holding your hand and kissing on it
you both lie there speechless for a moment before he breaks the silence
“you like cold pizza?”
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moonlightspencie · 9 months ago
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Meet-Cute
Description: It's all in the title, isn't it?
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x gn!Reader
Warnings: none :)
Word Count: 1k
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On a Saturday morning after a night of drinking, the last thing you personally cared for was to be awoken by the loudest noise on earth. Some terrible creaking sound, mixed with thuds that seemed to resound in your apartment every thirty seconds had you practically developing a stress-induced twitch as you laid in bed.
To put it nicely: you were at the end of your rope.
You begrudgingly got out of bed, roughly washed your face, angrily brushed your teeth, and stomped to your door. You may not usually be prone to dramatics, but you felt it necessary for your well-being this time. You opened your door, about to confront your terribly noisy neighbor, when you realized that it was someone moving in.
You wanted to be angry. You really did. But…
“Hello,” said a man who you could only describe as genuinely tall, dark, and handsome. He also looked a little surprised.
You wiped the scowl off your face. “Hi.”
He looked around, as if the answer for you standing in your doorway in pajamas, looking quite annoyed, would appear out of thin air. It didn’t. You realized as much about thirty seconds later as you finally started speaking.
“Sorry. Are you moving in?”
"Oh! Yeah," he breathed out a small laugh. God he was handsome. "I apologize for the noise.”
You shake your head. “No! No, that’s okay. Just… curious.”
He smiled a little and you tried not to melt on the spot. He reached his hand out in greeting.
“I’m Aaron.”
You shook his hand, trying not to stare at him as you gave him your name.
“Nice to meet you,” you said softly.
“You, too. Uh… I’m just gonna…” he trailed off, nodding at the box under his arm.
“Of course!” you nod quickly. “Right. Um… I’ll see you around, Aaron.”
You went back to your apartment, shutting the door behind you with a little grin. So much for staying determined to be grumpy and less than pleasant today.
It was, unfortunately, two weeks later before you saw him again. This time as you were checking your mailbox in the lobby. As you heard someone clear their throat, you muttered a small apology, stepping out of the way as you looked through the letters in your hand.
“Um… hi,” he offered as a greeting that made you jump a little bit. "Sorry, I didn't mean to... Just wanted to say hello."
You looked up at the voice that was irritatingly smooth, finding yourself getting a bit warm in the cheeks when you noticed him giving you almost a shy smile. You turned towards him more to give him your full attention.
"Oh, gosh. Uh, sorry," you chuckled softly, returning his smile. "Guess I'm not very good at being neighborly, am I?"
"You're doing just fine. I'm sure it might be a little... maybe off-putting to have a strange man approach you in the lobby, now that I think of it."
You shook your head. “It’s not that at all. I’m just… not used to people approaching me here at all.”
“Not exactly social?”
“More like nobody else here is. I don’t mind a little company,” you replied, a little more flirty than you were intending. 
Clearly he didn’t mind.
“Good to know,” he nodded once with a growing smirk.
“Uh…” you clammed up a tiny bit. “So… Um, are you, like, new around here?”
“Only to this building. I’ve been in D.C. for too many years to count,” his smirk melted into a softer smile. “Just needed someplace new, I guess. My old apartment… I just needed a change of scenery.”
“Yeah. Yeah, no, I’ve been there,” you nodded softly. “How are you liking it so far?”
“It’s great. My son loves it here.”
Your brows raised a little. “You have a son?”
“I’m shocked you didn’t file a complaint last night with the tantrum he threw,” he chuckled a tiny bit. 
“I was out last night, so no worries here.”
“Oh? With friends, or…?”
You couldn’t help but smile a little more. “Yeah. Just a couple of girlfriends.”
“That sounds fun.”
“Maybe too much fun.”
“You get up to a lot with them?” he asked casually, though not without humor, crossing his arms over his chest.
You smiled. “Only on occasion. I don’t think I could really handle the way they go out practically every single night. I only agree to go out like that with them once a month.”
“Now you’re sounding a little too much like me for someone so young and pretty.”
You find your cheeks warm at that, though you try not to react outwardly. You could tell that he knew just how much he had affected you, though. If you didn’t know any better, you might guess he was a mindreader. 
“I think you make yourself out to be too boring for someone so friendly and handsome.”
He laughed a little at that. Then a comfortable silence falls over the both of you for a moment. Maybe two moments. Eventually, you shift your weight, and look back up at him again. He really is horribly handsome. A guy shouldn’t be able to look like that, and… God, he smelled good, too. You shuffled the mail in your hands a little bit before speaking again.
“Uh… Well, it was nice chatting with you, but unfortunately I do have to go clean my apartment. Family is coming over tomorrow,” you said softly. “I’ll see you around, though, yeah?”
“Yes, that sounds… sounds good. Maybe if you end up wanting some of that company you were talking about, we could get dinner some time?”
You couldn’t help a giddy smile sneaking onto your face. You nodded easily, glancing at his hand as he shut your mailbox for you near your head. 
“I could come knock on your door some time soon and invite you properly, if you’d be alright with that,” he said, that little smirk sneaking back onto his face.
“I’d like that.”
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glassrowboat · 11 months ago
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Morning After
Authors note: This includes a variety of my own headcanons on these characters. The reader is gender neutral. This includes only the male harbingers, but I am willing to write one for the chicks too ^^
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Capitano.
-The instant you stirred in your sleep, just the slightest twitch, and you were pinned to the mattress with a looming figure above you. His black hair tickled your skin, swaying back and forth from the sudden movement, but that was barely a concern when this man who had been so sweet with you last night was suddenly acting like a switch that flipped off in his brain. All you could tell was one discernable thing after the sudden surprise: there was no escape if he didn't want there to be.
-”Capitano?” You called out, voice hesitant and barely a whisper as fear choked back the ability to speak confidently.
-Immediately the tense nature that had over taken his form fell, shoulders no longer strung together as that soldier who had been pinning you down held you close and started apologizing for startling you.
-He didn't have to say it, he didn't want to, bit for a moment there the Captain had mistaken you for someone that crept into his chambers with ill intent. He's a soldier. War is what he's known for. This caution just comes with the territory.
-To make up for his own actions he makes sure you're well fed, given a hearty breakfast (one a little too big for you to fully eat but he doesn't mind giving you some Tupperware to take it home in) and tea.
-It's just he's a terrible conversationalist, barely talking as he just nods along to whatever you say, making you carry the flow the entire morning as he adds in an occasion “yes, interesting, or no.”
-At least he's handsome under that helmet.
Childe.
-Fell off the bed the moment he saw you, a shout falling from his lips from the surprise of the fall and well, this naked person in his bed.
-Why he didn't expect you to wake up and throw a pillow at his head for being so darn loud when you have a hangover? Well, only Celestia knows. Though he didn't bother to block it, simply accepted getting hit as it didn't even knock him back.. well that is if he didn't play along and dramatically fell down onto the floor.
-”Are you always such a drama queen?”
-”A guy can't play along with a joke?”
-Very sweet, but a little bit annoying as he asks about you in as many questions he can think of. What's your favorite color? What's your job?
-Admittedly Childe has never had a one night stand before so he doesn't know what to do in this position so when you give him a sweet smile and tell him to just to let you get dressed for now he goes to get a stray shirt for you.
-Definitely wants to see you again, and not just in the bedroom.
-”So where do you come from?”
-”Give me five minutes for fucks sake.”
Dottore.
-First off, what? He's aware each harbinger has their own little dedicated fan club, even him…for some reason. Yet for him to willingly bring someone, possibly one of them, to his bed? People aren't allowed in his personal quarters. Hell, he barely uses it himself, opting to sleep on that one couch in the laboratory. So why the switch in his normal behavioral patterns?
-(I personally see Dottore as a virgin so for this dweeb to lose it this way-)
-Admittedly, he's on edge from trying to remember what happened, the haze of sleep, and the shock of seeing someone he apparently trusted enough to bring to bed. It only made sense he was scowling at this sleeping body. It wouldn't be easy enough to just call it a new test subject, use the sheets as restraints to drag this stranger down to his lab and shove them in a cell but..
-Maybe not this time.
-Instead he gets up and throws on some clothes as quickly as possible, making sure to slot his mask in place despite the fact you have very obviously already seen what lies underneath. That and more.
-It has proven more useful than not to use that thing to hide his expressions.
- Depending on if he drank last night and that's what had him indulging in the warmth of another person's body, Dottore would have one of his clones stand by until you wake up. They can deal with the situation from there and take you home while he gets some caffeine in his body. An easy way to rid of a hangover and forget his newfound company.
-If it was a completely sober decision, Dottore no longer has the excuse that he simply got ahead of himself from the drink and would therefore be hostile in response. Unable to put up with this one bit, he would be telling his bed partner to get dressed and head home already so he can get back to work instead of watching over pointless little you.
-Don't try and say anything about possibly being emotionally attached, it would only anger him. Boy is not used to being open or vulnerable with anyone and you suddenly appearing and having held him so close last night would only set him off in the worst of ways.
Pantalone.
-First thing this man notices is he's just not as comfy as usual, somehow this mattress isn't right, he isn't sinking into the soft plush he spent thousands on. Not even his haze of grogginess was enough to make tossing and turning twist his body into comfort. (Goldilocks having motherfucker). So with a steady hand he reaches out to find his glasses on the nightstand, silver chains rattling on the surface as he pulls them close.
-A one night stand isn't an uncommon thing to the regrator, for him it's happened a small handful of times before but it's never something he's typically the better for in the morning. A man of his position caught slinking into a woman's bedroom as they drunkenly grope at eachother was far from a good look. Not to mention you never knew if the individual would keep their mouth shut.
-That has been a problem with one particular individual in the past that has henceforth been ‘dealt with.’
-But the person laying besides him was still conked out and wrapped in a good majority of the blankets the bedding had to offer. Well, a bit of a thief aren't they? Pantalone almost wanted to laugh but kept his mouth sealed shut, already knowing it's best not to wake you.
-Slowly he got up and out of the bed, trying to keep it from creaking too loudy, to put on last night's clothes. He'll take a shower and get changed into something clean later.
-With one last peak towards the stranger he spent the night with Pantalone slipped out of the front door.
Pierro.
-He's confused.
-Now he understands what happened, the sight of you naked and curled up into him is more than enough to make that clear; though your underwear basically on his favorite pillow definitely would have gotten the point across either way. But, like, him? You who look so much younger, livelier compared to what Pierro sees in the mirror every day after five hundred years haunting him.
-Maybe that joke the second made about people liking ‘older folks’ was based on reality.
-Would greedily allow himself to hold you in his arms for a time. It started with him first saying one minute, that's all he'd allow himself. Then that turned into five, then ten, then twenty. Eventually he would barely wish to nudge you awake even though he knows better.
-Don't go getting attached when there's so much left to do.
-When he finally did wake you up he did his best to make sure you wouldn't get startled, softly calling out the name he was given last night. It's just a shame you do, startling as your hand nearly wacked his face from sheer shock. (Though who can blame you? It's not everyday you blearliy open your eyes, vision still blurry as you take in a man with white hair and stars in his- wait is that the fucking Pierro? Oh fuck).
-The type to help you find your clothes and call for a cab so he knows you get home safely.
-Now all that's left is trying to figure out how to hide the hickey you planted on him.
Scaramouche.
-Let's be real here, you're not making it to the morning.
-He had no clue why he was allowing this, allowing a humans lips to fall to his own with such fevered need. In any other situation he'd be pushing them off, telling this person they're a useless worm that shouldn't ever have walked these lands if all they was going to do was use their life to paw at him. Oh but to worshipped was a delight.
-Kisses pressed to the wooden skin of his puppet body like small prayers to the God he will one day be. This is what humans are made for, aren't they? To give their all to a greater being. So readily Scaramouche let himself be tugged along as you pulled him to wherever you pleased, ready to lavish in the attention he so rarely got.
-A human isn't a threat after all.
-Yet when you tugged on his short, pulling them down just low enough for your mouth to eagerly await something filling it, everything took a turn for the worst.
-”Wait a minute, you don't have genitals?”
-And in a heartbeat you were struck with a bolt of lightning that had you dead on the spot.
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