#not gonna properly tag it until it is. done

[dedusmuln]

art wip at tha moment. trying to make smeothing i think is cool

[seventh-district]

Making Incorrect H:SR Quotes Until I Run Out of (hopefully) Original Ideas - Pt. 4 - Nuthin' but Boothill Edition

[Pt. 1] [Pt. 2] [Pt. 3] [Pt. 5] [Pt. 6]

[size-two-shrimp]

dumbasses fell in the sand lmaooo

[orcelito]

1 more day here and then I'm gonna be heading back up to my apartment for the first time in over 2 weeks. Haven't stayed there since this all began. I've grown a bit of a routine here, and I'll be right back to my apartment, but without the prior norms of it.

It's home though. It's home.

I'll have to do a ton of cleaning and rearranging tho to try to fit as much of my father's furniture within my apartment. My apartment is so small and the furnitures so many. I'm determined tho. I'm gonna fit as much as I can. Took measurements today even of all the things I wanna take, so I can puzzle it out as I go.

I. Also. Need to bring June to the vet. Bc she's got worms. Lol. Lmao even. I am trying to not think about it rn.

[nerdie-faerie]

Apparently I timed my quitting perfectly

[sttoru]

fav concubine trying to top but sukuna is... sukuna so he fucks her full nelson <3

𝝑𝑒 SYNOPSIS. trying to show lord sukuna that you can indeed be on top of him in bed ends up backfiring almost immediately & results in you nearly passing out.

wc. 1.2k

tags. true form!sukuna x concubine!female reader. smut, pwp. size difference. full nelson position. degredation. objectification. mention of (almost) passing out. reader gets called ‘doll, little girl, woman.’ beta read? nope

“i can do it, my lord,” you huff stubbornly. you don’t know where you got the courage from to be so assertive tonight. maybe it’s because of sukuna’s earlier words—those mocking words that he uttered to get a rise out of you. or to see you scared, perhaps.

‘y’re gonna need to do a lot more to keep me entertained, doll. gonna get bored of ya if y’ don’t.’

the sentences repeat in your head like a never ending chant. on one hand, you know sukuna was simply trying to play with your emotions, but on the other hand, you’re afraid that there might be some truth to his words. so, you take up the challenge.

“y’ can’t do shit, little girl,” sukuna rolls his eyes as he sees you climb onto his lap. his thick thighs are spread, his broad back against the headboard of the bed.

he doesn’t even try helping you like he usually does, with his hands guiding your hips. if you’re stubborn enough to try and be on top of the king of curses out of all people, you’re going to get minimal help.

“yes i can,” you mumble with a sense of uncertainty in your voice. you’ve never really done any of this. you’re usually on the receiving end, having sukuna easily move and bend your body however he sees fit. you’ve never imagined being in his place, “just watch me, my lord.”

you’re desperate to please him. you’re scared to lose your position as his favorite. you let the words get to your head—just like sukuna expected. the fact that you’re so gullible makes him stifle a condescending laugh.

“all ‘m seeing is you struggling to ride me,” the tall man clicks his tongue and his eyes lazily watch your attempts to sink down on his two, hard and dripping cocks. the contact his leaking tips makes with your cunt is enough to make sukuna grunt.

he’s trying hard to not slam you down on him fully. he’s used to take control—too used to it. seeing you struggle to even start is making him impatient.

“i-i’ll get it eventually, my lord,” you hiccup, nervous because of the fact that you’re on top of such a huge man. he’s staring at you menacingly, all his arms crossed over his chest. your hips tremble as you slide one of his cocks into your warm pussy, both of you hissing at the direct contact.

you try to fit the other in the same hole, but you simply cannot handle it at the moment. his upper dick slips right out and bumps against your clit instead. you clumsily fumble with the same one, trying to make place for it in your cunt.

sukuna can’t hold it in anymore. having you clamping down on one of his massive cocks, his girth stretching your small canal to fit all of it to the base and your face contorting in both discomfort and pleasure is making him lose it. “this isn’t gonna work. need to fuck you properly, doll.”

you’re not even one minute in and he’s yanked your small body off his lap, forcefully turning you around until your back is pressed against his chest and your head is rolled back to rest near his shoulder. sukuna’s upper hands hold your legs up by the back of your knees. his bottom set of hands wrap around his cocks and pushes one through your sensitive cunt whilst he fists the other.

“fff— mhhh! my lord! nonono,” you tear up. partially because the sudden intrusion hurts your insides and the stretch is unexpected, but mainly because you’re scared that sukuna’s angry with you. you don’t wish to lose his interest in you, “i’m sorry, let me try again.”

the king of curses slaps your clitoris harshly after that comment of yours. “that a demand? foolish woman,” he scoffs and his hips thrust upwards against the fat of your ass. squelchy noises fill the chambers and spill outside of the room—it’s loud. the bed creaking is unmissable as well with how fast he’s pounding you.

sukuna bites into your shoulder and holds back his grunts like that. he’s relentless, drilling into your cunt so hard that you’re getting numb. your body is limp in his beefy arms and your rationality leaves your mind. you’re more than overwhelmed.

“sorry, ‘m sorry,” you whine and try to babble about something, but it’s all incoherent. you’re feeling lightheaded due to how much you’re taking of him. it feels amazing, soul ascending, but your emotions are in the way. even when you try not to show any attachment to the man you swore not to like.

sukuna ignores your pleas. his focus is on your slutty cunt swallowing every inch of his lower dick like its nothing. you’re used to it—he’s made you used to it—and somehow you’re still as tight as the first time. that and your submission to him is exciting. your adorable noises. the form of your body as it fits perfectly against his like you’re made for him.

you are made for him. your purpose is to please him, submit to him and give him what he deserves. that’s why he keeps you around.

“stop y’r whining,” sukuna grumbles. your knees are forced up against your ears and your tits are bouncing with each harsh thrust. “y’r a dumb fucking thing,” the king of curses presses down on the bottom of your stomach, increasing the pleasure for you, whilst also pleasing himself by knowing how deep you’re taking him, “do you think ‘m actually going to let you go?”

your eyes widen as sukuna picks up on your internal worries. you know there’s no hiding your feelings from him, even if you don’t talk about them to him. it’s like he can sense them. or see right through you with those piercing red eyes that leave you shivering for days.

“y’re too delicious to let go of. i don’t intend on letting anyone else get a taste of this pussy,” sukuna smirks and his tongue rolls out to lick your left ear. you gasp at the feeling and moan right after. you don’t try being quiet. you don’t care if anyone hears you. the reassurance was all you needed.

everyone around the estate knows you’re getting your guts rearranged by the same lord they serve. it’s the same routine every day.

“y’re mine,” sukuna grumbles and speeds up his thrusts until you’re seeing stars. you’re not sure if you can hold out for much longer. you can already feel your orgasm building up—and judging by sukuna’s tight grip on your thighs—he’s close to emptying himself deep inside you as well.

you try your best to keep up with everything, but your human mind can only focus on so much at once. you mumble some words in agreement as your head tilts to the side, your vision turning blurry and fuzzy, “all yours, m’lord.”

sukuna grins mischievously. he’s completely won you over. he’s got you wrapped around his finger. you’re easy, even if you think you’re the complete opposite. the skilled curse knows just what to say to make you all putty in his hands.

you’re gullible. easily manipulated. a perfect target for his mockery and teasing. that’s why he always has fun with you—whether it’d be in bed or not. his comment earlier was just to mess with you.

and expected, you walked right into his trap. you’re his favorite. his favorite to play around with. his favorite human.

“all mine. only mine.”

[transhitman]

Ok I posted about this in anger a while back but I'm gonna say it more intelligently and actually tag it because I think it's something people need to hear. Something that bugs me about how people talk about the morality of the men in this game is that a lot of analysis totally glosses over Anya's motives and what she actually asks of people, and in doing so once again strips her of agency. Like. The reason Curly sucks isn't because he failed to properly punish Jimmy, it's because he ignored Anya in favor of her abuser. He didn't listen to her regarding how to move forward, he didn't give her a way to protect herself. No matter what he would have done to Jimmy, Anya is still traumatized and in danger, and that's the most important point of failure.

I think a lot of people are projecting a revenge fantasy on Anya, and while I'm not gonna argue about the validity of revenge here, for Anya specifically I think that's a major mischaracterization. She's the one who says that our worst moments don't make us monsters. And while yes, this could just be her trying to appease her abusers, she still doesn't strike me as a particularly vindictive person. She's a nurse, symbolically in a role associated with care and healing. Before the crash, she seems like a very soft-spoken and restrained person. Hell, she can't stand giving Curly his meds because she feels so bad for him. There isn't really a point in the game where she calls for violence at all. And even if punishing Jimmy or Curly is morally correct (subjective), saying that it's what anyone Should have done still glosses over Anya's wants and needs. It still centers the abuser, even in vitriol.

It's especially weird to see people judge Swansea on these grounds, because like... We don't know what his dynamic with Anya was like. We don't actually know what she said to him, if she even confided about her pregnancy or the SA at all! I honestly think Swansea's actions give more credence to the idea that Anya herself wanted a peaceful resolution. The whole "Oh, I'm holding it together" thing, him becoming more hostile after speaking with Anya... He waits until Daisuke AND ANYA are dead before trying to kill Jimmy. I think the obvious reading is that he wants Jimmy dead, but Anya asked him not to do anything crazy. Genuinely, I think Anya just wanted to be safe. She wanted out above everything. She didn't want more violence. The only violence she commits is against herself in the end, in order to escape this hell her coworkers made for her.

And like. Swansea is kind of the only one who actually did try to protect Anya in a meaningful way. I won't say that he couldn't have done more for her - all of the men on that ship failed her in some regard - but Swansea intentionally keeps the axe out of Jimmy's hands. He keeps the pod a secret, probably to give to Daisuke, but we can't say anything for sure. I joke that Swansea should have killed Jimmy from the start, but if we're being real that would have been an insane thing to do given what the characters know. But Swansea isn't the point of this post. Like. Idk I just think it's really bizarre that when people discuss Anya's assault, they still do it from the perspective of the men involved. It's weird and I don't like it. Like people have said before me: it's not enough to hate abusers, you have to love victims.

[silentcryracha]

❍ ‗ Tough Work - Bang Chan ‗ ❍

Pairing : Bang Chan x f Reader

Summary : Bang Chan gets his plans ruined yet again by a late notice schedule and he's pissed. His friends call his girlfriend to the rescue to calm him down before he punches his laptop.

Word count : 3.2k

Warnings/tags : a little angst at the beginning, Chan is an emotional mess, swear words, smut (ONLY 18+), sex on a desk chair, unprotected sex (don't be silly goofy y'all), use of pet name baby, baby girl.

A/n : I had some inspo (not gonna tell you eheh) + it's the holiday season so yeah why not! Let's slut the holidays away🤣🙏🏻 merry Xmas pookies 🤎Also be KIND it's my first full written fic since like...august or sumn

masterlist

ps: No Beta'd. Do NOT repost on other socials. Leave feedback if you feel like it, otherwise enjoy!

♡︎.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

 When Hyunjin called you, it definitely came as a surprise. It was around five pm and you were doing absolutely nothing except chill on the couch watching a movie on your (very deserved) days off for the holidays. Until the phone suddenly rang, making you curious as you saw the name calling. Especially since you thought you heard Chan, your boyfriend, saying that they were working today.

'Hello?'

'Hey, yn, hi. Are you busy right now?' your friend's voice sounded slightly defeated as he answered, even though you could tell he was trying to play it off.

'Hyune, hi. No, I'm not, what's up? Is everything okay?' you sat straight, listening carefully.

'Yes and no. Listen, we got some late notice from the company and now Chan hyung is pissed. Like very pissed.' you frowned as he sighed, 'But mostly he's upset. And I know for a fact that the only thing that can calm him down it's you. Would you mind maybe coming over?'

You and Chan were supposed to meet at your apartment to have dinner together later, despite that you didn't even think twice before getting up and walking to your room to change quickly.

'Yes, got it. Don't worry, I'll be there in 10.'

-

You didn't bother getting ready properly, with a full on makeup and hair done, or a carefully picked out outfit. Usually you'd have some decency going out, even just for meeting your friends. But right now you didn't have the time, nor the mood for it.

Hyunjin didn't give too many details, but since he mentioned a late notice schedule, you probably imagined that it would mess with your and Chan's plans for New Year's. It was not the first time that it happened unfortunately, but then again, it was his work. He couldn't truly help it, and you knew that it upset him.

You put on a gray wool oversized dress, some pantyhose, a padded jacket and a beanie, after quickly fixing your hair slightly. Then you grabbed your bag and before you knew it, you were in your car driving to the boys' dorm.

-

Like you predicted, around ten minutes later you arrived and opted on sending Hyunjin a text instead of ringing the bell. He immediately came to answer the door and gave you a quick hug and a small smile.

'Changbin is not home. Me and Jisung are going out for a while, okay? Let me know when the threath has been doomed.' he joked, just as you waved to Jisung who was wrapping a big scarf around his neck. He smiled back and hugged you too.

'Thank you, yn. He wouldn't hear us out at all, so we decided to call you.' he said. You shook your head slightly as you took off the beanie.

'It's okay. I'm sorry that you guys probably also had some plans spoiled.' you responded. They both had a sweet yet quite defeated expression on as you switched places, them on the doorstep on their way out and you on your way in.

'Ah, It's alright. It's out job after all. Take your time, alright?' Hyunjin replied, and you nodded with a small smile before they closed the door behind them.

You sighed, mentally preparing to try and not look too disappointed. You were, of course, but now it wasn't about you. And besides, the last thing you would've wanted was to make Chan feel more guilty.

You made your way down the corridor to his room, which was pretty much silent. You knocked on the door gently, and just after a couple of seconds your boyfriend showed up. He was wearing a black hoodie, gray tracksuit pants and his big headphones. His face looked tired, serious and there was the slightest hint of red in his eyes.

His expression switched fast as soon as he realized it was you at the door and not one of his roommates, which had already taken turns in trying to comfort him and calm him down. He even had a small argument with Changbin, hence why he had to leave the house before they started shouting names at each other.

'Yn? What- weren't we supposed to meet later? Did I loose track of time-?' he quickly glanced down at the time on his phone, taking off the headphones with one hand and discarding them on his bed. The wallpaper being a sweet picture of you too making yout heart shrink a bit.

'Channie, hi baby. No, it's okay, you didn't. A little bird told me you needed some cheering up.' you smiled sweetly at him as you brought your hands up to stroke his arms.

He scoffed, releasing himself from your grip gently, just to walk back and plop down on his big plush desk chair.

'Which one of those fu-...ah, I don't even care. I assume that they told you, then?' he sighed heavily, stopping himself from curing at his friends. You walked closer, taking off your bag and jacket, placing them on the clothes hanger behind the door.

'Don't be mad. They did it because they care about you enough to not see your hair turn white from stress before your time.' you tried to lighten up the mood, but it didn't seem to work as he just proceeded to put his head down in between his hands.

Your smile fell, taking a deep breath, understanding that he really needed some time to get out his feelings first.

'Just about a late notice schedule. Nothing more, but I assume that it's for New Year's. Is that why you're so upset?' you scrunched down in frot of him, your hands placed on his knees.

He waited a few seconds before speaking, his voice low and quite monotone. 'We got two Japan schedules for the 31st and the 1st. But we have to leave on the 29th. And we'll probably not going to be back before the 2nd. Just in time for our already pre paid and organized planes to be canceled. Of fucking course.' his tone getting sharper as he spoke.

You stroked his thigh gently to comfort him, 'I'm sorry, baby. I know you were looking forward to a few days off.' you responded. He shook his head, frowning as he sat up straight.

'Fuck the days off. I can have days off all year. I was looking forward to spending at leas one fucking holiday with my girlfriend, in peace in a nice luxury cabin in the middle of damn nowhere.' he ranted angrily, before pausing for a second and giving you a quick look. 'It's me the one who should be sorry.'

'But it's not your fault, Chan. It's work, you have schedules and many times they may not be planned. That's how it works for many other jobs too, think about it.' you try to reason, once again taking his hands into your stroking them.

'It's the third time in four months. First it was your birthday, then Christmas, and now New Year's. It's starting to stress me out. Isn't it stressing you out?' he asked, frowning. You sighed.

'What do you want me to say? 'Chris this is too much, you're always busy with stuff that's out of your control so I'm leaving you'? Is that what you want to hear?' your tone slightly more stern. You weren't mad, but his constant throwing himself under the bus was bothering you. He widened his brown eyes, squeezing your hands slightly.

'No! What? Of course not. I was just-' you stood up straight, shushing him.

'Then stop with that shit. We can reschedule later. I don't give a fuck whether it is December 31st or April, or whatever. I'll be happy to spend time with my boyfriend and that's it. Okay? Stop beating yourself up about it.' your voice got warmer. He leaned forward, resting his head on your stomach and wrapping his arms around your waist to bring you close.

'Still. Im sorry that I keep disappointing you. You deserve better.' the last sentence made you snap so you pushed him back slightly, making him look up at you.

'Oi, don't say shit like that. It's not true.' the little oi clearly being his Aussie influence.

'You are better. You're the best. Don't ever say that, because it's not true. I love you.' you cradled his face in your hands. His big brown eyes looking up at you so sweetly.

'Am I though?' he said sadly. Always doubting himself, you sighed internally.

'Yes you are.' you planted a kiss on his lips, trying to lighten up the mood 'Besides, you know that I'm too honest. If you were being shitty to me I'd tell you. Well, I'd tell your friends first and then you. Just to add that bit of embarrassment.' you shrinked your eyes jokingly, finally getting a chuckle out of him.

That made you smile in return, as you kept caressing his cheeks with your thumbs. He looked up at you again, shaking his head slightly with a small smile on his face. 'What?' you said cutely.

'I love you so much. I wonder what did I do to deserve you.' you smiled sweetly at him before switching again, and clicking your tongue.

'Getting sappy here, Christopher' you released his face, about to turn around to go get your phone, just to shoot a quick message to Hyunjin reassuring that the situation was handled, but chan grabbed your hand making you turn around.

He laughed, smirking up at you slightly. 'Hey, come back here' you chuckled, letting yourself be dragged back. You were now standing in between his legs, him still sitting on his big desk chair.

'You need something?' you joked. 'Just my girl. Right here. Close to me.' your smile turned into a smirk, as your hands started to wander on his shoulders.

'I am close.' his hands came up to your waist then down to your hips, pushing you more into him, your faces close.

'Closer' you carefully straddled him, your arms around his neck.

'Enough?' he chuckled faintly, his lips grazing your neck and then whispering 'Never' into your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

'Greedy boy' you teased 'I can get even more greedy. Will you let me?' he looked back at you, the slightest hint of humor in his voice, but his eyes were telling a different story.

'Yes' you respondeded without a doubt. 'Go ahead. Do whatever you want. I know you need it.' at that point he crashed his lips to yours, immediately starting a passionate kiss. Your hands gripped his broad shoulders as his hands pressed your hips down to his crotch.

At that point your dress had already pooled around your hips, so the only thing separating you two were your pantyhose and panties, aside from his own pants. As you continued kissing and grinding, he got hard quite quickly.

One of his hands were holding you close to him while the other wandered under the dress and then straight to the hem of the pantyhose and the panties.

'Off' he mumbled in between kisses, so you carefully stood up, a little dazed from the heat of the moment and quickly discarded them both at the same time. Chan also got up to get rid of his own pants and underwear, and then reprised to kiss you.

He tried to lead you to the bed, but you stopped him 'No, I want to ride you there' you slowly pushed him back on the chair, his gaze not leaving you for a single moment.

'Fuck baby' he cursed, before widening his eyes for a moment 'Wait let me close the door-' you pushed him back again, shooting him a smirk.

'Relax, baby. Hold on' you went to close the door, turning the lock for safety, even though you knew that most likely none of the members would've stepped back into the house unless you told them to.

'Need you so bad, c'mere' he grabbed your hand, almost making you stumble into him. You chuckled, straddling him again. He wetted his fingers slightly with some spit before his hand went straight to stroke your slit. You moaned into his neck, as you kept your knees raised at his sides to allow him access.

'So wet already' he teased, making you groan and hump his hand more.

'You made me go out in the cold and interrupt a good movie. Now get to work, Christoper.' you complained, erupting a chuckle from him.

'Okay, okay.' he surrendered, I'll warm you back up real quick, baby girl' at that point he lined up his hard cock with your pussy, gathering some wetness before helping you sink down on him. You both moaned deeply, mumbling some curses.

'Fuck, Channie...so big' he hummed while kissing your neck as his hands supported the back and forth movement of your hips. You started kissing as your hips kept on going faster, then slower again, then going in circles.

After a while though, Chan seemed to notice you trying to get more stimulation to your slit, so he decided to take matter in his own hands.

'Wait, baby, hold on' he interrupted the kiss and grabbed the hem of your dress, taking it off of you and throwing it on the carpet nearby. The fact that you weren't wearing a bra was a pleseant surprise.

'No bra? Naughty girl' he smirked, making you laugh faintly. He attached his mouth to one of your nipples, sucking and licking, while he played with the other with his pointer and thumb.

'Ah-' you moaned as he grazed the nipple with his teeth lightly, 'Wait, you too' you said, this time being you to take his hoodie off. In the meantime your pussy kept grinding on his dick, a bit more lazily since your knees were kinda starting to ache a bit.

Chan seemed to remember what he wanted to do before getting distracted by your tits, so he stopped once again 'Turn around baby. Want to touch you properly' he said sweetly as he helped you change positions.

You were now sitting with your back pressed to his chest, one of his hands grabbing your breast and the other working on your clit. He was making you feel so good that your mind was starting to get a little fuzzy, your hips grinding on his cock and his fingers mindlessly.

'Yeah, just like that. So good for me, baby' he whispered into your ear, his nose pressed to the side of your head, 'Such a good fuckig girl for me' he kissed your hair, your head, your neck.

'C-Chan, baby, m' close' you whined, one of your hands covering his one on your breast, while the other was between his hair desperately holding on for dear life.

'I know baby, I know' he sped up, pounding you so quick and deep that you were seeing stars, 'Come for me, c'mon. So beautiful' he groaned.

'My beautiful, patient, amazing girl' his fingers applying some more pressure, 'Really don't deserve you' the last phrase so quiet that your fucked out mind almost didn't catch it. Almost.

'C-chan, oh my god' your back arched, moaning out his name as you came. His rythm gradually slowed down, but his thrusts were still sharp and deep.

'Come inside me, baby. Wanna feel you, need to feel you, please' you pleaded, grabbing his jaw to kiss him. He moaned into your mouth, and after a few more sharp thrusts, you felt him coming inside you.

'Yes, that's it, so good' you cooed, giving little kisses on his mouth 'Love you so much' you whispered. He smiled slightly in the kiss, hugging you tight. You moved around, getting more comfortable but still hugging each other tight and cuddling. You were left in a comfortable silence for a while.

'I heard that, you know.' you said softly, his gaze pointing down at you as his fingers still delicately caressed your arm.

'What do you mean?' he asked. You didn't look at him, concentrating on playing with his hands.

'You know exactly what I mean. Stop saying that. I mean it. I love you, and I know that you love me. There must be a reason why we're together and we work. So stop getting into your own head' your eyes locking with his. 'Promise?'

He chewed on his plump lip, definitely feeling guilty that he got scolded yet again. Naked, on his bedroom chair, after some mind blowing sex and a whole lot of feelings. In the end he sighed, nodding and planting a longing kiss on your head.

'Good. Now get me a blanket or something, I'm fucking freezing.' he laughed, bumping his head gently to yours jokingly. Then he helped you get off him and opened one of the closet's drawers and grabbed a fuzzy blanket.

'Wait for me a second, I'll get something to clean up.' he told you as he quickly put his hoodie and pants back on. You nodded as he exited the bedroom. Wrapped up in the blanket, you searched for your phone in your bag. When you found it you quickly dialed Hyunjin's number, who picked up after just a couple of rings.

'Hello?' you could hear some noise in the background, so you assumed that they were maybe in a bar or something.

'Everything's fine.' you said, sitting down to wait for Chan to come back.

'Oh, I'm glad. I knew you would make him reason' just as he said that, you clearly heard Jisung yelling 'Are you done fucking or what' with some laugh erupting.

'Oh my Gosh' you replied, embarassed while you pinched the bridge of your nose with your fingers.

'Shit! Yn, I'm so sorry about that. This motherfucker is just jealous you're getting some' he chuckled, as you heard Jisung saying something along the lines of 'Fuck you'.

'Hyunjin!' you scolded him, not being able to not laugh. They laughed.

'Sorry, sorry. We'll be back in an hour or so, bye!' and he hung up.

'You know, I would've betted on Jisung, because he's a nosy fucker.' you got startled by Chan's voice. He closed the door behind him again and scrunched down in front of you, gently helping you clean up with a warm damp towel.

'But he only talks behind people's back. Should've known it was Hyune.' he sighed. You smiled, messing with his hair.

'C'mon. You should be thankful. You started off wanting to punch a hole in the wall and now look at you'. you teased. He smirked, getting up and discarding the towel in the dirty clothes basket.

'Yeah, the power of pussy I guess' your mouth went slack, as you threw at him your previously discarded panties. He caught them, laughing hard at your outraged reaction.

'Oh so that's what I am to you, uh? Good to know, Christopher' you feigned annoyance and dramatically crossed your legs, looking away from him.

'I'm sorry, I'm sorry' he laughed, coming close to grab your had in between his hands and kissing you. 'You know It's not true. Well, not only-' you gasped in shock again as he threw his head back laughing.

'You little-'

♡︎.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

That's it folks! I know it was quite a rollercoaster, but hopefully decent nonetheless. Until next time <3

[emilys-bangs]

invisible string | e.p

Tags: emt!reader, meet cute(?) - def a bloody one lol, blood and injury, car accident, flirty emily, flustered reader (who gives in once cause who wouldn’t), no use of yn

Summary: Emily gets into an accident. Could anyone fault her for flirting with her EMT?

Word count: 2.6k

For my fave loser girl @notaboypossiblyagenius because we’re spiritually connected <3

Car accidents can be no big deal, or they can be catastrophic. 

This one seems to be somewhere in between. The roads are icy tonight; you were expecting something of this measure since last week, and your predictions were right—this is the third accident you’ve been called to in the past six days. 

The hood of the SUV is bent around a pole. It seems to be a mild crash, no other cars around, but you’re still preparing yourself for anything as you carefully assess the stability of the pole before approaching the passenger’s side, your coworker going over to the driver.

When you peer through the window, you find a dark-haired woman. Her head is on the headrest and her eyes are closed, a crimson line of blood cutting down the paleness of her cheek. You lightly tap on the frosted glass. 

She opens her eyes. After blinking repeatedly, she lowers the window. 

You crane your neck into the car, checking the backseats and subtly trying to assess the damage. “Hi there.” You give her a smile, your eyes briefly flitting to her equally dark-haired companion in the driver’s seat.

The woman blinks at you sluggishly.

“…Hey.” She slurs.

It’s more of a question. That could definitely mean a concussion, you think, what with her head wound. You reach into your belt for your flashlight, clicking it open and shining it into the car. The woman squints. 

“You’re gonna be okay, we’ll get you out of here in a sec. Can you tell me your name?”

She pauses a little when your eyes meet. You hold your breath, the blankness of her gaze stirring up dread in the pit of your stomach. But then she blinks and it clears a fraction.

“Emily.” She mumbles, slowly. Her brows furrow and she stares at you intently, as if you might have the answer. In the darkness, you don’t know if you’re looking into pupil or iris. “...Prentiss.”

Some of the tightness in your gut loosens. You give her another smile, careful not to let your concern peek through. “How are you doing, Emily? Does anything hurt?” You run the flashlight up and down her body, your eyes sharp for any more serious looking injuries. Her coat seems to have protected her from the seatbelt, but when the light passes over her wrist, you spot some discoloration around it.

“Uhh…” she reaches for her seatbelt. “My—”

“Please don’t move.” Your hand shoots through the window, stilling hers on the buckle. She frowns confusedly. “Sorry, I just need to properly asses your injuries first. We’ll get you out of here in no time, I promise.” You say, your voice slipping into that firm but soothing tone you’ve learned to develop. Emily nods and you give her another reassuring smile as you open the car door. “You were saying something?”

“M’head,” she mumbles. You nod as you check her over, eventually clicking your flashlight closed and sliding it into your belt. Again you spot the discoloration on her wrist.

“Anything else?”

She seems to consider it for a moment, but then she shakes her head. You’ll deal with that later, then.

“Any trouble breathing?” You ask, leaning over her to unbuckle her seat belt. The scent of blood is thick; you try to take a closer look at the gash on her forehead, but it’s dark and her hair is in the way.

“No.”

Still, you check her airway, gently asking and prodding until you’re satisfied there’s nothing more critical needing your attention. When you’re done you instinctively place your hand on her knee and squeeze lightly—a habit of the job.

“Okay honey, I’m gonna get you out now. Let me know if anything hurts, okay?”

A faint pink spreads across her cheeks. “’Kay,” she mumbles, throwing a furtive look to the driver’s seat. Her companion is long gone, helped out of the car by your coworker; you can distantly hear them at the ambulance.

With the ice, it takes a bit of work, but once you safely get her out of the car, you also help Emily to the ambulance. She’s stiff, not really allowing herself to lean on you even though she sways a little. You’ve dealt with plenty of people like this before, so you don’t try to force her closer, just keeping your arm steady around her in case she slips. Some of the tension in her body loosens when she spots her friend on the ledge of the ambulance.

“They got ya too, Hot—Hey,” Emily cuts herself off, a deep v creasing between her brows, “you said you weren’t hurt.” 

Her tone is accusatory. Which is fair, given the bruising on the man’s cheek and the stilted way his jacket lays on one shoulder, very obviously dislocated. His eyes trail over her, down the blood on her forehead and your steadying arm around her waist.

“So did you.”

Her lips purse. “I’m fine. I jus’ have a headache—”

“A very bloody one.”

“—not a goddamn dislocated shoulder!” She protests, concern taking over her features. Her voice, so far having been fluid and slurry, hardens to steel. “We’re going to the hospital.”

“Not just for him,” you say. “That head wound might cause a concussion, we need to get you a CT scan.”

Emily turns to you and frowns, as if you’re being unreasonable. “It’s just a headache.” She sulks.

“Headaches are a common symptom of concussions after blunt force trauma.”

“But—”

“We’re all going to the hospital, Emily.” The man sighs, his lips pressing together into a thin line when your coworker comes back with his kit. “Just get in so we can get this over with.”

He must be some kind of boss—or at least some years older—because the fight leaks out of her shoulders, despite the firm set to her brows. She resignedly accepts as you get her into the ambulance and on the cot, her eyes squinting as she adjusts to the bright light.

“I’m just gonna check your vitals first.” You tell her. The words are instinctive to you; most patients you deal with are confused and in pain, still in shock from their accidents, and you’ve found that explaining what you’re about to do makes your job a lot easier.

You checked her breathing in the car but you do it again, just to be sure. Emily stays quiet as you do. She blinks rapidly and keeps her eyes down, still adjusting to the lights of the ambulance as you try your best to move quickly. Her blood pressure is next, which she also accepts without complaint. 

When you pick up her right hand, you find reddish discoloration circling her wrist. Her hand trembles in your grip, shaking almost imperceptibly. 

“Do you feel any pain here?” You ask, gently smoothing your thumb over the cold inner skin of her wrist. 

Emily shakes her head.

You frown a little as you gently prod the area. She yelps suddenly, half pulling her hand back into her chest. You drop it, guilt swirling in your gut at the way she grimaces. “Sorry.” You apologize thickly. “It might be sprained, you’ll need an X-ray to make sure.” 

Emily bites her lip and nods, not looking at you as you carefully take the pulse in her left wrist instead. It jumps beneath your fingertips, quicker than normal but still within the range of acceptable; you let go of her hand and grab an instant ice pack from your kit, popping it so it freezes over.

“Hold this to your wrist.” 

She does it silently. Her head is bent, the dark strands of her hair absorbing the fluorescent lights. The outline of her shoulders shivers faintly; you press your fingertips to her coat. “Hey. Are you doing alright?” You ask gently.

It sounds a stupid question even to your ears, especially when she looks up and you see the blood dripping down the sharp line of her jaw, onto the collar of her coat. There’s a small furrow between her brows when your eyes meet, but it loosens a little as she gives you a small smile.

“Yeah, ’m good.” She says. There’s a heaviness to her voice, despite the dimple in her cheek. 

Now that you’re beneath the light and she’s properly looking you in the eye, you’re suddenly aware of her striking beauty. Fluorescent lights and the blood dripping down her cheek hardly diminish her sharp features. Shiny dark bangs dip between her brows, just the same bitter coffee shade of her eyes. Those are ringed with equally dark lashes, and in her pale, bloodless face, the shocking collision has the same effect of a black hole.

You blink, the sightly ragged sound of her breathing snapping you back to the present.

Oh, god, had you been staring? 

Heat bursts through your cheeks as you clear your throat, desperately attempting to be casual. You reach for your penlight, bending your head to be more level with hers. “Keep your eyes open, please.” You instruct as you shine the light into her eyes. 

Her pupils are blown; wide, uneven pools of black that push her dark brown irises to thin rings. They’re almost as dark as her pupils, you note, and not for the first time.

Focus.

“Yep,” you mutter, giving her a small, sad smile as you straighten. “Definitely a concussion.”

“They’re not that big of a deal.” She says flippantly, waving her hand in a dismissive gesture.

A frown draws your brows together. “You have a history of concussions?” That could definitely be a problem, you think as you click the penlight closed.

“I’m a federal agent.” Emily says, as if that explains it. She squints as she tips her chin further up, gravity dragging her bangs over her brows. The darkness of her eyes freezes you in place. “You’re…really beautiful.” She murmurs. 

You suck in a surprised breath. The back of your throat goes dry, aided by the piercing intensity of her gaze. She blinks a few times and leans in closer, dark, spidery lashes kissing her bloody cheek.

“Excuse me?”

 “You’re a little blurry, though.”

“That’s—”

“Too pretty for a job like this.” Emily muses. Her eyes drag over you; the scrutiny makes your heart kick.

She’s your patient.

Trying to move on, you place the back of your hand to her cheek. Emily’s brows shoot up in surprise, not recognizing what you’re doing as you check the temperature of her skin. You shouldn’t rise to her flirtations, you know that. She’s not even fully lucid.

But your mouth moves before you can stop it.

“Well, you’re too pretty to be a federal agent,” you say softly, your voice low as you gauge her skin. Cold, pale. “I bet you get banged up all the time, right? That’s a shame.” You turn to grab a shock blanket. You unfold it, wrap it around her shoulders above her coat. Her dark hair is trapped under it; you resist the urge to pull it out. 

A blush has spread across her cheeks. Shocking red, a close shade to the blood traveling down the length of her face. “We—uh…we jus’ wanted to get food for our team.” She sucks in a breath, “Why’d you put this on me?”  

“You’re pale, looks like you might be in shock.”

“That’s just my natural color,” Emily protests as you reach for a pair of gloves and slip them over your unsteady hands. “Right, Hotch?” She calls out, loud enough for him to hear.

“Keep the shock blanket, Emily.”

“It’s cold out,” you say apologetically. For some reason, you don’t want to gain her displeasure, though—in a situation like this, at least—she seems easily displeased. “And you lost a lot of blood.”

Her whole demeanor shifts. Suddenly a dimple winks at you, its sly curve in her cheek matching the curve of her lips. “You could just warm me up.” Emily suggests, her light tone masking her exhaustion. 

What? “I…uh.” Fuck, your whole body is on fire. You’re sure you’re gaping at her, but she looks entirely serious. 

This is what you get for flirting back. 

“I have to clean your wound.” You blurt out.

“That’s okay, you can sit on my lap and do it.” Her teeth flash as she grins up at you. Dimples. Two. She laughs at the dumbfounded look on your face, the sound gritty and soft. “Hey, c’mon, I’m a big girl, I can handle it. Super strong FBI agent, y’know? I won’t let you fall.” She says earnestly.

“Ma’am—”

“Emily.” The man calls out.

Emily blows a raspberry.

“Buzzkill,” she mutters. Her eyes leave you to glare daggers at his back, and that’s when you finally regain your composure. Taking in a quiet, deep breath, you firmly push away the butterflies climbing up your stomach and grab an alcohol pad from your kit, getting to work on her forehead. The latex of your gloves sticks to your sweat-slick palms.

Stay professional, you tell yourself as you inhale quietly, trying to cool the heat in your body. She’s a patient.

Emily’s eyes are once again on your face, turning your skin to fire. “Do you have a boss like that, too? Bit of a hardass?” She lowers her voice theatrically, the whisper of it echoing in the space between your bodies. “We like him, don’t worry, but he can be a bit uptight.”

You don’t answer, biting your tongue because obviously you can’t be trusted to keep it to yourself. Instead you focus on swiping the alcohol pad over her cheek, gently scrubbing until the blood gives way to pale skin. Few freckles peek up at you as you continue moving your way up to the gash. The blood has stopped, but it’s still thick over the wound.

“What’s your name?” She asks softly. There’s a rasp to her voice, threading through her words, and you wonder if you should give her a bottle of water.

This question is harmless, so you answer it. 

“Pretty,” Emily says, her tone wistful. “Everythin’ about you is.”

Your inhale is audible in the minimal space. You avoid Emily’s eyes as you reach for a square of gauze and press it to her forehead; she takes in a quick breath of her own. 

The gauze quickly soaks through, and you replace it with a fresh one.

“Am I making you uncomfortable?” Her voice is small, thready.

Your heart is in your throat. “No,” you say. Just nervous.

“I’m sorry,” she says, her tone sincere. “I’m not usually like this.”

You gather no one would be themselves after they’d gotten into a car accident, obtained a concussion, and lost a significant amount of their blood volume from a bash to the head. But something tells you this enigma of a woman is different.

“I told you I’m not uncomfortable.” Roundabout way of saying you’re basking in her attention. You clear your throat, “It’s good that you’re talking—helps me know you’re conscious.”

Gently, you swipe her matted bangs to the side and try to get a look at her wound. It’s shallow, but nothing you can treat on your own. As you’re bandaging it, you hear her mutter a curse.

You look down at her, irrational guilt settling in your stomach. “Are you in pain? Do you want some Tylenol?”

Emily blinks dazedly, a small smile pulling at the corners of her mouth. She tilts her head, “If I say yes, will you give me your number?”

“Emily.” Her boss sighs.

She grins.

You blush.

taglist: @suckerforcate @sickoherd @lextism @catssluvr @i-lovefandom @haiklya @justhereforthosefics @storiesofsvu@ashluvscaterina @basicallyvivi

[blackynsupremacy]

CLARK KENT HELPING YOU TAKE OUT YOUR BRAIDS HEADCANONS

pairing: henry cavill!clark x blackfem!reader

fandom: DC

this was brewing in my head while actually taking out my braids today. plus, i wanted to give my baby henry a shot at this.

summary: it’s that time again! time to take down those 1-2 month old braids to prepare for your next fresh set. the only problem is, it’s raining, you’re tired, and you know it’s gonna take forever. yeah even getting your hair taken down, washed, detangled, and dried can be a hassle. fortunately, your fiancé, clark kent, is always happy to help with the process.

contains: lots of words, some things are based on true events, self insert, fluff, romance, established relationship, you and clark are simps, you and clark being fine, nudity but no smut, clark being a green flag, cuddling, kissing.

taglist: @rosiestalez @afrowrites @afrogirl3005 @simply-the-best23 @jkr820 @zombiehe4rt @elitesanjisimp @sabrinasopposite @gxuxhdjdu @tryingtograspctrl @ellethespaceunicorn

(i know i didn’t ask if ya’ll wanted to be tagged, but y’all are mutuals that consistently interact with my posts, so this is how i’m showing my appreciation! thank you! let me know if any of yall want to be tagged in my next blurb. again thank yall and i love my mutes)

• work was work today.

• it’s raining like hell.

• but good news, you’re getting your hair done this weekend! ain’t nothing like a fresh set of braids.

• the bad news, you gotta take out the old braids, wash/condition/detangle, and blow dry your hair all before your appointment. (yk how these new hair stylists be)

• girl, you’re dead tired, but you know you need to start asap!

• good news again though! your man clark kent is already home and you know he’s always down to help with your hair.

• ya’ll have been dating for 4 years before he popped the question a month ago on your anniversary.

• one thing about clark kent, he’s gonna hype up your hair no matter what style.

• he believes you’re stunning whether you have braids, twists, a lace front, locs, a slick back ponytail, a silk press or, your natural. he loves it!!

• he loves to watch you style it on your own or if you’re following along to a youtube tutorial.

• you’ve taught him a thing or two like taking down braids, detangling, applying edge control, and even helping you to wash and condition it!

• he catches on pretty fast and follows your instructions to a tee.

• his love language is acts of service and when it comes to your hair, he wants to make sure he does it properly.

• he told you he wants to continue learning because he can see himself helping out with your future daughter’s hair, so why not start with his future wife?

• this man is going to be the death of you.

• you see clark sitting on the couch with his laptop. as soon as he hears the door shut followed by your sigh of exhaustion, he’s already putting that to the side and zooming in your direction to take your bag, umbrella, and jacket off your hands.

• this man is teeth rotting sweet. how’d you get so blessed?

• he greets you with a warm embrace and plants a kiss atop of your head. he peeps that new growth, but he won’t mention it until you do.

• you both take a seat on the couch and have a brief conversation about each other’s day. you sigh again and run a hand through your hair one last time.

• “it’s about that time, clark. i’m getting my hair done soon and i need to start taking my braids down, but i’m so tired!”

• you whine and lean your head on his broad shoulder before you peer your “please help me” doe eyes into his blue ones that were hiding behind his glasses. he doesn’t hesitate to keep that eye contact either. it’s so intense yet intimate. you almost look away because even after 4 years, clark can still get you a bit flustered from time to time.

• “baby, would you like to help me out again? i promise you’re not gonna have to do all the work. i just need some assistance to get this done faster.”

• you playfully pout and bat your lashes. you already know the answer, but this brought you joy. you knew he was waiting for an opportunity to help with your hair again.

• he shows off those pearly whites before he enthusiastically responds, “i’d never thought you’d ask. you go change into something more comfortable, i’ll handle the rest, and we can get started.”

• he lays a chaste kiss to your lips and pats your behind to signal for you to handle your business and you don’t hesitate to do so.

• by “handling the rest”, clark gathers the necessities: 2 pairs of scissors, a detangling comb, 4 hair ties for sectioning, a plastic bag from that one drawer in the kitchen, your satin bonnet, and an order of chinese takeout placed on doordash.

• clark was waiting on the couch and he gleamed when he saw you come back clad in a white tank, no bra, grey cotton shorts, and one of his oversized, plaid flannels.

• as soon as you found yourself comfortable on the couch, clark handed you a pair of scissors and ya’ll got to work at cutting the braids shorter before you both section off your hair into 4 parts and start unbraiding from the front.

• you started on the right side, while clark took over for the left.

• you obviously know of clark’s abilities, his extraterrestrial heritage, and his intense duties as superman. he makes sure his powers can be of help in the most important areas of his life, one of them being your relationship.

• he’s had some practice with unbraiding and his fingers moves like clockwork. he moves at a delicate, quick pace and uses his keen eye to make sure your hair doesn’t get tangled or pulled, so there’s no unnecessary breakage. braid by braid, each one is removed out of your head and into the empty, plastic grocery bag that’s placed between you two.

• he’s seen you sometimes get it tangled and you would be quick to just cut it off, but with his aid, you’ve been doing that less frequently.

• after about 30 minutes, clark can already hear the doorbell ring and footsteps walking away. the food’s here.

• he opted for contactless delivery this time because he knew he just had one more braid….and done!

• he urges you to give your hands a break from unbraiding your side and to wash them because your dinner has arrived. he chuckled as you perked up hearing that because you were hon-grey!!

• he also takes it upon himself to gently place your satin, royal blue bonnet on your head.

• it’s his absolute favorite because it’s patterned with his iconic red and gold family crest!

• you have a friend who owns a small business of designing bonnets, durags, and head scarves with the cutest patterns imaginable for black nerds like you.

• they got some with superheroes, anime characters, hogwart house symbols, disney, you name it!!

• 2 years ago, you asked them to commission a bonnet to match his heroic attire.

• this was to show him that you’re proud of his kryptonian roots and that you 100% support him being one of the world’s most selfless heroes along with the other members of the justice league.

• you sometimes worry for his life, but he always tries his best to make it back to you in one piece.

• but girl, that bonnet had him geeking when you showed it to him!! his face heated with a bright hue of pink before he plants a billion kisses all over your face. his voice never ceasing his appreciation and eternal love for you.

• you both chill for a few minutes to eat and watch some tv.

• you stretch your hands, placed your bonnet on the coffee table and resumed to unbraiding the last strand on the front before sectioning it off with a hair tie and starting on the back of the right side. it seems that time moves slower (or faster) as your fingers meticulously unravel each braided strand.

• clark is half way done with his entire side. his brows raise at the sound of your soft groan of what seemed to be pain and exhaustion.

• “babe, my fingers are starting to cramp and so are my arms.” you gripe and pause your movements to massage out the stiffness in your fingers.

• clark also pauses what he’s doing. he delicately grasps your hands into his, sprinkling tiny pecks on each aching knuckle. his pink lips lingers on the rock that adorns the fourth knuckle of your left hand before those baby blues gaze into your own eyes.

• you could clearly see your worn reflection in his pupils, but you lovingly smile as you know what he’s about to say.

• “c’mere, beautiful. let me take care of the rest while you sit and relax. it’s just a few more and it’s nothing i can’t handle, so it’ll be my pleasure.”

• that’s true. clark’s an invincible kryptonian. unless your hair was laced with some green k, a cramp within the joints of his digits wouldn’t be possible. if you ask, he would one day take out your braids all by himself without you having to lift a finger and he’d be in pure bliss of taking that burden off your plate.

• he spreads his thighs apart. the large palms of his hands encircle around your waist to shift your body in between his legs before his fingers get back to tenderly remove the last remaining braids.

• as he does so, you simply enjoy each other’s presence. ya’ll would be cracking jokes, planning suggestions for the wedding, your jobs, and a myriad of other topics to kill time.

• about 30 more minutes pass by and your braids are finally out! he leans back feeling accomplished and marvels at how much your hair has grown over the month.

• “may i?” he politely asks. his expectant eyes glancing into yours for approval.

• “of course, kal.” you grin. it’s like seeing a child light up in a candy store, he’s so elated.

• you feel more at ease and lean into his touch as his fingers lovingly caress through your natural hair and scalp.

• you know that he just wants to feel your hair in it’s natural state. it’s not out of a fetish, but out of pure fascination, so you let him!

• you love that even though you’ve been together for 4 years and he’s helped you with your hair on multiple occasions, the curious kryptonian wonders why he always has to ask you before touching your hair.

• as a journalist, he’s gonna conduct his own research.

• he educates himself and he understands the history of that one boundary in your community, so he always asks you before touching your hair or he waits for you to offer.

• he’s not even human and he understands the basic human decency of not to reach out and touch someone’s hair out of nowhere.

• you sigh in relief and thank clark with a kiss before you go to dispose the plastic bag of worn out braids to the kitchen and into the large garbage can. you turn around and lean up against the sink.

• now it’s time to wash, condition, detangle, and dry.

• clark already knows the next step. he stands from his position on the couch and stretches his back muscles. he moderately saunters to the arched threshold that separates the kitchen and living room. his tall stature works in his favor as he casually raises his arms with his hands gripping the arch that’s a few inches above his head.

• you know exactly what pose i’m trying to poorly describe to the best of my ability. it happens to be one of those non-sexual turn ons that men do without them realizing.

• you go into a bit of a hypnotic state as you stare at his bulging biceps. you also take notice of how his white t-shirt raises up to expose a small section of his sculpted abdomen. the raven tresses on his skin that perfectly matches the messy curls on his head form a trail straight down to his—

• the trance is broken by the baritone voice of your fiancé.

• “my eyes are up here, angel. were you even listening to me?” he flirtatiously quips and tilts his head with a playful smirk curving on his lips, lowering his arms to cross them over his chest.

• like some suave lady killer, he approaches you and places his index under your chin to shift your gaze to his.

• girl, not you getting caught in 4K! you know that man is fine, but you got to finish off your hair. there’s no time to waste when it comes to that, so you must stay focused.

• you can’t help, but feel the heat of embarrassment rush on your melanated cheeks and giggle nervously before you confess.

• “i’m sorry, clark! after all of these years, you still get me sprung. now, what were you saying, boo? ”

• “it’s no worries, (n/n). don’t doubt that you’ve got the same effect on me too.” he blushes himself, beaming at the compliment and pecks your forehead, nose, and lips before he resumes his question.

• “would you like to wash in the sink or shower?”

• he bursts into a joyous laugh as you don’t hesitate to choose the shower.

• of course he was hoping you’d say that, but you shut down the idea because you just want to kill two birds with one stone, wrap this up, and cuddle in bed.

• he understands where you’re coming from and it’s no pressure at all. you both love when you two get down in the bedroom, but you share a common belief that spending quality time is the key to true intimacy.

• he takes your hand and leads you both to your shared bathroom.

• he puts his glasses on the sink, switches on the shower and checks for the perfect temperature that’s not too hot for your scalp, but not too cool for your body.

• you go to obtain large drying towels, african net wash cloths, and disposable shower caps. you then seek out the shampoo, conditioner, and detangling cream to nourish and clean your hair.

• you return to the bathroom with the items and clark gets your second opinion on the water temperature. you get a feel and let him know that it’s just right before you both strip of your clothes until you’re both completely naked. you make sure your engagement ring is placed in the velvet box it came in and set it on your drawer before you both step under the running water.

• clark reaches up to detach the shower head. before making a move, he asks if you need any further assistance in this step and you gladly accept, closing your eyes as he handles the shower head to pre-rinse both of your heads for a well deserved cleaning.

• as he puts the shower head back where it belongs, you let him know that you want to do the shampooing for both you and him.

• yep, clark uses your products on his hair!

• one time after your fifth date, he hugged you and his sensitive nose stealthily picked up on the natural, sweet, and intoxicating scent of the hair lotion that seeped into your scalp. he thought at first it was your perfume, which he loves too, but he was mistaken!

• “my god, you smell amazing.”

• clark takes you out to dinner and feeds your ego! okay, kal-el!

• he couldn’t get enough of it!

• this aroma— it was like something fresh and made from natural ingredients without any harsh chemicals.

• it reminds him of the homegrown warmth and love that his parents, jonathan and martha raised him up in back in smallville.

• if it wasn’t so soon (or the fact that he hasn’t told you his secret then), he would literally fly you out there in 10 minutes.

• when you moved in together, he would sometimes sneak a bit of your shampoo and conditioner in his hair routine once or twice a week until you finally caught up to him!

• you scolded clark a bit for using your products without permission because you would’ve let him use a little if he’d ask and plus, that stuff was expensive!

• he looked genuinely remorseful and apologized. “i’m sorry, (f/n). it was wrong of me to sneak like that, but i just wanted to use it because it’s like i’m taking a part of you with me everywhere i go. that way even though we’re apart, i don’t feel so alone in this universe anymore.”

• that almost had you crying and throwing up. he’s as big a simp for you as you are for him, so you couldn’t stay mad at him!

• you had an agreement to share or double up as long as you both are putting in for it.

• it was definitely no problem for clark because besides it’s sentimental value, it does wonders for his hair! it looks healthier, shinier and it feels softer compared to those 2-in-1 shampoo/conditioner concoctions that he’s been using since high school.

• he loves your weekly beauty supply store excursions. he doesn’t care if the 6 items in your cart is $35, he’s paying for it all!

• clark’s aqua pupils observes from behind as you pour a generous amount of shampoo into your palm, rubbing the other against it, and massaging the bubbly, white substance through your scalp. your fingers work to make sure every single hair on your head is lathered in the coconut scented liquid and he notices that you’re careful not to tangle it.

• his own trance is broken by a “your turn! now lean down a bit, my love.” you’re now waiting for him to follow through, leaning his head down and forward to make his now drenched, dark hair right in your view and in your reach.

• he exhales at the contact of the cold shampoo descending on his scalp. as your fingers massage through his hair, his eyes close and a smile of ecstasy plays on his lips.

• your touch, the scent of the product, and the fact that if he opened his eyes again at this very moment, your breasts would be right in his face is clark’s idea of his personal heaven.

• you both take turns to rinse your own hair and each others to double check that all of the suds of the shampoo are gone.

• you repeat the process again, but this time it’s with conditioner. once that’s applied, you both put on the shower caps to let it rest and do its thing.

• you both use that time to talk some more and thoroughly clean your bodies of the filth of the work day using the african net wash clothes and aromatherapy body wash.

• after one last rinse of ya’lls hair, you cut the water off and grab the towels set out to wrap around your soaked bodies and dripping hair before walking to your shared bedroom.

• fortunately, you and clark have your own respective hair dryers, so that step doesn’t take too long before you take on the final boss: detangling.

• still clad in your towels, you and clark apply the detangling cream through your scalps. as he uses his comb to effortlessly rake through his noir mop, you just kind of stand and stare at the detangling brush in your hand.

• if you’re tender headed, you’ve probably lived the nightmare over and over with your heavy handed mother tugging the comb through the knotted ends, jolting your head and neck forward as you whined in pain. of course she got mad at you for that and said that it didn’t even hurt.

• you’re grown now! with your own bills, home, car, job, and man. there’s way more stressful things in the world than getting some knots out.

• you start the teeth of the comb from the root of your hair and hear the wet stickiness of the detangling cream as it glides to the end.

• okay, we’re getting somewhere! no pain or the pulling of knots for the next few strands near the front. now let’s start on the back. comb one, comb two, comb three—

• “ow, ugh!” you yelp. cringing as you hit a knot at the end.

“ woah! sweetheart, are you alright?”

• clark immediately halts his actions and puts his comb down. he takes one step behind you to examine the situation.

“please, lord, don’t tell me it’s tangled that bad.”

• you attempt to comb without breaking your hair out and the more you try, the more painful it gets. your arms and hands started to stiffen again.

• you lowkey wanted to cry because you just want this to be done and sleep peacefully in clark’s arms for the rest of the night.

• you immediately ask clark for help and he once again, comes to the rescue. he was gentle and comforting, but straightforward when it came to getting those knots.

• he talks you through it to make this a little easier.

• “i’m so sorry, honey. this is gonna hurt a bit, but we’re gonna knock these out and go straight to bed in no time, okay? i love you.” he kisses your temple before he proceeds with the task.

• several minutes of detangling are over! clark gets a second shower of kisses all over his face as you thank him again.

• you discard your towels and replace them with your nightclothes. clark’s shirtless with his sweats and you’re comfortable in another one of clark’s shirts with a fresh pair of cotton shorts.

• you put your hair in an afro puff ponytail and as always, you let your fiancé do the honors of placing your superman patterned bonnet on over your hair like a king crowning his queen.

• he looks at you with such pride and joy. seeing you happy feels so good it hurts. it makes him feel as weak as when he’s around green k. maybe even more.

• clark wouldn’t feel too comfortable to wrap his hair up just yet, so you suggested he uses a satin pillowcase instead.

• speaking of pillows, you look at the clock and realize it’s gotten late. you and clark shut off the lights and retire your exhausted bodies into your bed.

• you lay in a fetal position and turn to face him. kryptonians don’t usually need that much sleep as humans do, so you weren’t surprised that he was still awake.

• you both gaze and admire each other in comfortable silence. your hand reaching to his jaw. your brown toned fingertips caress the pale yet angelic face of the man you love. he closes his eyelids and leans into your warm touch.

• like a magnet, you drew closer to his face until your, full yearning lips rested on his. it doesn’t take him a second to melt into it, his hands clinging to your waist to rest your figure on top of his. your palms find themselves to rest on each side of his jawline.

• between each kiss, the moonlight illuminates the wide smiles you exchange to each other.

• after you two get your fill of each other’s affection, you lay your head on clark’s chest with his arms still acting as a shield around your back. he pecks your temple and is pulled in by the music of your steady heartbeat. he looks down to see your eyes pointed toward his and your hands folded flat on his chest.

• “thank you, clark. thank you so much for your help, your patience, your kindness, your love, and your compassion. not to mention that you are so fine, you still get me giggling like a schoolgirl at my big age! whether you’re superman, clark kent, or kal-el, i just thank you for being you. i love you, clark kent and that’ll never change.” your lips curve with a beaming smile.

• “(f/n), you need to know that everything i do, i do it for you and i’d do it again. you’re the most beautiful person and i’m not just talking about your stunning beauty. your heart is golden. despite everything that we’ve been through, it’s always been you. you understand me, you give me grace and hold me accountable, you still believe in me when i don’t even believe in myself. that’s how i knew i had to ask you to marry me, so i love you more, (f/n) kent and that’ll never change.”

• “look at us! we’ve only been engaged for a month and it sounds like we’re exchanging vows already.”

• “that sounds like a great start to me.”

• you both laugh and he gives you one last lingering kiss on your lips. your heads drop and your eyelids close before you take your peaceful slumber in each other’s presence.

[steddieas-shegoes]

honey you should see me in a dress

for @steddiemicrofic prompt ‘dress’

rated m | 350 words | cw: explicit language, implied sexual content | tags: Eddie Munson in a dress, pre-relationship, season 2-ish, enemies to friends with benefits to lovers?

💃💃💃💃💃💃💃💃💃💃💃

Steve runs his hand up Eddie’s thigh, gathering the fabric of the dress he’s wearing and pushing it up to reveal his pale skin underneath.

“Fuck, you look so good,” Steve breathes against his ear as he shoves his thigh between Eddie’s legs. “Can’t believe you dressed up like this for me.”

“It’s not for you,” Eddie rolls his eyes, but has to bite his lip as his cock makes contact with Steve’s leg. “It’s for my comfort.”

Steve nips at his ear, practically growls.

“If it’s not for me, why did you make sure to rub against me every chance you got?” He plants a kiss against Eddie’s jaw. “Why’d you insist on following me to the kitchen to get a drink when someone else offered to get you one two minutes before?” A kiss against his Adam’s apple. “Why didn’t you wear underwear?”

Eddie gulps. He doesn’t know what made him risk this at a party he has no business at. He wasn’t even properly invited. He just assumed he’d go unnoticed, fly under the radar until it was time to head home.

Steve only noticed him when he needed him, and he hadn’t needed him tonight.

“I said it was for my comfort,” he hears the tremble of his voice. “Awful full of yourself, Harrington.”

“You could be full of me, too.”

“That was a shitty line. Use that on all the girls who fall at your feet?” Eddie knows he’s being a shit. He knows what he gets when he acts like this, though.

He wants. He wore a dress because it’s all he thinks about. Steve’s all he thinks about.

“Only one falling at my feet is you, baby,” Steve leans back to smirk at him, and damn, Eddie knows he’s done for. “You gonna keep riding my thigh or you gonna let me touch you?”

Eddie looks down, sees a wet patch on the dress he stole from the mall, and smiles. He looks back up as he throws his hands above his head and raises a brow at Steve.

“Touch me, big boy.”

[nubisaureus]

sharing is caring

Been having KuroKen x reader brainrot lately so here ya go, some spicy headcanons for y'all!

character(s): Kuroo and Kenma (timeskip)

pairing(s): KuroKen x afab!reader

contents: polyship (Kuroo x Kenma x reader), domestic shenanigans, cuddles, finger fucking, drooling, neck kissing

a/n: YALL DONT EVEN UNDERSTAND THE BRAINROT THATS CONSUMING ME I NEEDED TO WRITE THIS SO BADLY AAAAAAH

not proofread!

Enjoy! <3

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they're both completely smitten with you

Kenma is very clingy; he loves playing games while you two are hugging: he rests his head on your shoulder, while you basically nap on him

you and Kuroo are the ones to remind Kenma to eat and sleep properly: he'd even forget to drink water without you

Kuroo loves to tease Kenma just to get on his nerves; and that is usually done by giving you attention: he gets jealous super easily

of course it's healthy jealousy: they love competing for your attention, and overwhelming you with theirs

Kenma is a very interesting switch; his sex drive isn't high, but when he's in either a dommy mood or subby mood you can rest assured that things are gonna get steamy

as for Kuroo, he loves going with the flow: he definitely isn't a sub, yet doesn't mind when Kenma takes the lead

Kenma loves making you both writhe for him: he'll usually make Kuroo watch as he makes you feel good, then have him be desperate for release

on the other side, when Kuroo takes the lead, he loves to tag team on you with Kenma: they'll overwhelm you so badly that you won't even know left from right

«Look, Kuroo. Look how good they're feeling because of me.» he shoves two fingers in your pussy, making you writhe and ache for him to move. His clothes feel electric on your naked skin: it's humiliating that they are both still in their clothes, in a way; yet it also feels arousing. Besides, they'd get naked soon enough. Kuroo looks at the whole scene, while kneeling in front of the bed: your pussy spread out in front of him, yet he's forbidden from touching you, not until Kenma's sadism issatisfied. His fingers move in and out, while Kuroo is basically drooling: when he's satisfied, he tentatively danglesthem in front of Kuroo, a smirk plastered where his usual poker face stands. «Want a taste, Kuroo?» he teases, and shoves his fingers in his mouth, while Kuroo sucks on them like he was a man dying from thirst who had been offered water on the brink of his death.

just thinking about what transpired that night makes you wet still to this day

you usually end up sandwiched between the two of them when you're watching something or just cuddling

as you're cuddling, Kuroo would usually be the one to support you both: you usually lay on him, your head resting on his chest while he uses one hand to stroke your hair and the other to stroke any part of Kenma's body he can reach from his position

Kenma usually lays on top of you, with his head on your tummy, as he uses your chest as a console stand for his Switch (a/n the console this time BAHAHAHA)

as he plays on top of you, you love running your hands in his hair: you usually undo his bun, untangling his hair, then run your fingers through it, admiring the little goosebumps that surface on his skin, along with the little shivers he desperately tries to hide

that's just one of your cuddling positions though: another one you particularly love is when you rest your head on Kenma's lap, while Kuroo lays on you

in those times, your hands are in his hair, messing his bed head even more, although he doesn't particularly mind: he's laying on you after all

meanwhile Kenma is obviously playing a game, but will choose a chill one, which gives him the time to stroke your hair and look at you both with an embarrassed face, while Kuroo will tease him about that (a/n i need Kenma blushing in my life so badly-)

you take care of them both, and they take care of you as well

«Kenma..stop sitting like you're a question mark, please» you grab him by the neck, much like a cat, and pull him backwards, as to make him sit up straight. «He'll never learn, love. He'll end up hunched up like a croissant.» you let out a giggle, while the blond shots Kuroo a deadly look. «What? It's the truth, Kenma.» he kisses you, shooting him a challenging look. «Oh come on Kuroo, he'll get even grumpier than usual.» you kiss the blond's frown, and his face relaxes immediately. «I'm not grumpy...» he protests, as Kuroo lowers himself to stare at him dead in the eyes. «Bullshit. But since you're cute, I guess I'll let it slide this one time.» and kisses him, making the frown come back as he focuses on his game again. «I need to finish this video and you both are distracting me. Don't you have anything better to do?» he huffs, his puffed cheeks making you and Kuroo erupt in a loud laugh. «Sure, we can do each other.» he retorts, his shit eating grin making you shake your head. You loved those two dorks to death.

it's safe to say his gameplay took less than usual that day

Your predicament is such: you pressed between the two of them, your head resting on Kenma's shoulder while he passionately kisses your neck. Kuroo looks at the two of you, taking in the sight of the people he loves most in the world. Your necks are his weakness: he can't hold on any longer. When his mouth clashes with your neck, you can't help but let out a loud moan, your hands instinctively reaching for his hair, using it as leverage to shove his face deeper on yourself. «Something wrong, babe? You seem worked up.» he teases, while Kenma continues incessantly, his arms reaching to hug you from behind, his hands wandering around. «Seriously, Kuroo?» your breath is ragged, so instead of coming out as an angry question, it comes out as more of a whine. «I'm as serious as it gets, babe. So?» he licks an undefined spot, making you squirm in the very small available space between their bodies. You try to catch your breath. «How could I be composed when I have my two boyfriends ravaging my neck?» you blurt out, as they both chuckle.

[sebscore]

Hey I saw your reply about the leclerc fics, could I request an imagine of say 16yr old sister reader getting her wisdom teeth out, and charles picking her up, getting her to stay in the car, etc? Sounds so random but I feel like it would be the funniest and cutest thing. If you could add an instagram story au of a photo that charles had taken of the loopy reader that would be amazing haha, thanks!

THANKS FOR NOT KILLING ME | CHARLES LECLERC

pairings: charles leclerc x sister!reader / arthur leclerc x sister!reader / lorenzo leclerc x sister!reader

warnings: mention of surgery. dentist. anesthesia. food. mood swings.

author's note: thank you for the request, I had fun writing this one! sorry if the ending seems rushed, I just didn't know how to properly end it. hope you enjoy it and let me know what you thought of it!

• • • • • • •

''Can you pull over? I have to pee.'' Y/N asked Charles, who was focused on the road.

Her older brother glanced at her through his rearview mirror, already done with the entire drive. ''No, you're gonna have to wait.''

Their mother had asked the second oldest Leclerc sibling to accompany her and his younger sister to the dentist, to get the youngest's wisdom teeth removed. Pascale already guessed that she was going to need some help with the teenage girl once her surgery was done.

He hadn't been too ecstatic, just wanting to hang out with his friends or play some video games. However, his mother had been very adamant on him joining and he found it hard to say no to her. Meanwhile, Arthur had volunteered to tag along, not wanting to miss his sister's reaction to the anesthesia as he had seen countless funny wisdom teeth removal videos online. The eldest brother, Lorenzo, had other businesses to attend to, but promised he would help take care of the girl once he was home.

''Honey, I told you to go slow on the pineapple juice.'' Her mother kindly scolded her, recalling her daughter's determination to only consume the drink as she had heard from friends that it would lessen the pain.

Y/N sighed, uncomfortably shifting in her seat. ''I'm hungry and thirsty, Maman!'' She complained, not having eaten anything in the last 8 hours.

''We'll get something afterwards, chérie,'' her mother assured her, ''how about ice-cream?'' Pascale turned around, looking at her daughter. ''Sounds good, thanks.''

''We're here.'' Charles pulled up to the parking and safely parked their car in the right spot.

Arthur snickered. ''Ooh~ I can't wait for you to get back.'' He teased her, rubbing his hands together.

''Shut up, you idiot!'' Y/N slapped his arm, resulting in a loud yelp from her older brother.

''Auw! You little shit!'' Arthur tried to hit her back, but his arm was pushed away by his mother. ''Stop it!''

''Maman!'' Arthur exclaimed, appalled. ''She started it!''

''You provoked her, Arthur.'' Pascale opened the car door and got out, adjusting her clothing.

Charles turned in his seat, looking at his sister. ''Y/N, good luck and we'll see you in an hour.'' Since the youngest sibling was still a minor, a guardian had to be present during the extent of her surgery, and with covid regulations still intact, the brothers couldn't wait for their sister inside the building. So, Charles and Arthur would fill up their free time until their mother had notified them when the surgery was done.

''It's not scary, right?'' She asked them, not making eye-contact with her brothers.

The two men glanced at each other, amused by the sudden behavior change. ''It's gonna be okay, you're not gonna feel a thing when they're removing the teeth.'' Charles comforted her.

Arthur opted to tease her, but seeing her obvious anxious expression, he didn't and followed his brother. ''Yeah, you have nothing to be scared about.''

Pascale had made her way around the car and opened her daughter's side of the door. ''Come on, we don't want to be late.'' Y/N nervously smiled at her two brothers, before getting out of the car.

''It's gonna be okay, you're brave!''

''Don't worry about it, munchkin.''

Their words of encouragement send a smile to their mother's face, touched by how her sons comforted their baby sister. Pascale put her arm around her daughter's shoulders and guided her into the dentist's office.

Her brothers watched them going in. ''She's gonna be fine, right?'' Arthur asked Charles, not entirely sure.

''Of course, you know how she doesn't like to embarrass herself in public.''

''I'm dying!'' Y/N cried out to her mother, once she had regained consciousness.

Pascale shook her head, already knowing it was going to be a difficult task. ''You're not, my love.'' She took out her phone and sent a quick text to Charles, informing him she had woken up and that she would need their help to get her into the car.

''Maman! I can't see anything, I've gone blind!'' Upon hearing her daughter's words, she looked at her. ''Chérie, that's because your eyes are closed.'' Pascale, along with the dentist and his assistant, had a hard time not to burst out laughing at the sight of the young girl.

''Oh.''

With some help from the assistant, Pascale got her daughter out of the chair. They each held one of Y/N's arms over their shoulders until they made it to the front entrance of the building, where Charles and Arthur were waiting for them. As soon as the two Leclerc's noticed their mom and sister, they took over.

''See? We told you that you would be fine.'' Charles immediately reassured her, his sister mindlessly staring at nothing.

Y/N whined in return. ''I'm not fine, I'm dying!'' She loudly exclaimed, her mother trying to shush her straight away.

''And I'm dying to get out of here, let's go!'' Arthur commented and made a move to start walking back to the car.

Pascale thanked the assistant for the successful surgery, just loud enough for Y/N to hear.

''Thank you for not killing me, Doc!'' She yelled out, causing some heads to turn at the noise.

''That's my job, thank you, Y/N.'' The assistant took it all in good fun and smiled at the young girl, her whole day made because of the interaction.

Eventually, the brothers got her in the car. Arthur put her seatbelt on, but stopped midway once he saw her looking wide-eyed at him. ''What is it?''

''Since when did you get here?'' She asked him, confusion written all over her face.

He simply chuckled and made sure her seatbelt was put on safely. ''Me and Charles were waiting for you to be done.''

''Charles is here?'' Y/N reacted astounded, gasping when Arthur pointed at the man in the driver's seat. The Ferrari driver had a huge smile on his face, endeared by his little sister. ''I'm here, Y/N.''

The teenager mirrored his smile until she noticed something. ''Wait, he's driving the car?'' She looked at her mom, who nodded.

''No~ he can't drive!'' Y/N whined, trying to take her seatbelt off.

Arthur stopped her right away. ''No, no, no! You have to keep that on, it's for your safety.'' He held his sister's arms to prevent her from doing anything further.

''Why can't Charles drive, honey?''

''Because he's stupid.'' She made a reference to the infamous Baku qualifying when he planted himself into the barriers.

Their mom and Arthur cackled at the comment, while Charles just accepted it. He drove out of the parking lot and the family was on their way back home.

''Where's Enzo?'' Y/N asked them, noticing the eldest brother wasn't in the car.

''He's at work, he'll be at home soon.'' Pascale answered, staying as positive as she possibly could.

Arthur pulled his phone out, grinning ear to ear. ''You wanna FaceTime him?'' He searched for his brother's contact and handed the phone to her. Y/N took the phone and pressed the FaceTime button, excited to speak with her brother.

However, he didn't answer and his little sister didn't like it one bit. ''Huh?'' She stared at her own reflection on the phone screen, a puzzled look on her face. ''Why isn't he answering?'' Her voice wavered, an indication she was going to cry.

''No, chérie, he's probably just busy.'' Pascale immediately tried to comfort her, not wanting to deal with that at that moment, but her daughter wouldn't hear it. ''He hates me, he doesn't want to talk to me.'' She continued whining, wiping non-existent tears away.

''Y/N, he doesn't hate you, he loves you! More than anyone else.'' Charles helped his mom, being reminded of when his sister was a toddler and she would whine the exact same way.

She fell more quiet at his words. ''Charles, do you love me?'' The whining had died down and the question came out more genuine.

''Of course I do! You're my baby sister, you're my favorite person!'' Charles wasn't lying when calling her his favorite person. The two had a very close bond and she always brightened his gray days. If she wasn't busy with school, she was always there for him during the Grand Prix's. Maybe he had to tell her more that he appreciated her always being there for him, he didn't say it enough.

She smiled at his answer, but wasn't satisfied yet. ''Do you love me more than Arthur?''

Charles simply laughed at the question while Arthur expectantly looked at his older brother, also curious about the answer.

"What's that kind of a question? I love you both equally." He put an emphasis on the last word, glimpsing at both of them through the rearview mirror.

Arthur's attention went back to the phone, but the youngest still wasn't content. "Why? I'm so much better than Arthur and I'm also prettier than him." Y/N summed up the reasons why Charles should love her more, almost in a childish manner.

"You're lucky you just got out of surgery, Y/N" The youngest Leclerc brother semi-threatened the girl.

"You know, I would stick my tongue out at you, but I can't feel anything." She shot back at him, gathering some laughs from Charles and their mother.

It didn't take long for them to arrive back home. However, it did take a long time for them to get Y/N in the house. Arthur joked about the ground being lava and she refused to get out of the car.

''I'm gonna go to the grocery store and get Y/N her ice cream. Charles, you're in charge of your sister!'' Pascale didn't waste anymore words and was out of the door before her second oldest child could even respond.

Charles sighed loudly, but still made his way to the living room and sat next to his sister, who didn't seem to have a thought behind her eyes. ''You kinda look like Carlos right now, Y/N.'' He laughed, her stare reminding him of his teammate.

''I look hot?'' She asked him, her voice a little higher than usual.

He made a disgusted face, that wasn't what he meant. ''No, you just-''

''So you think I'm ugly? My face feels all swollen.'' Her emotions were all over the place. A few seconds before she was all excited about being compared to Carlos and now she looked like she could burst out in tears.

Charles slightly panicked. ''No, no! You're pretty, Y/N! You're beautiful!'' He put his arms around her, feeling bad for making her cry.

She slowly blinked her eyes at him. ''Really? Oh, Charlie! That's so nice! You're pretty too!'' The tears in her eyes were gone and a bright smile had returned to her face.

Her older brother giggled, entertained by his sister's actions. He flinched when the front door suddenly closed very loudly. He glanced behind him to see Lorenzo entering the living room.

''Hey, how did it go?'' He asked them, appearing in front of them.

Charles answered for her. ''Good, no complications at all.''

''Unlike Ferrari…'' Y/N mumbled, a smirk present.

Lorenzo chuckled at her words. ''Ah, see! The anesthesia didn't do anything to her, she's still the same.'' He sat down on Y/N's other side, so she was sat in-between them.

''Enzo! Oh my god! How did you get here?'' His sister looked at him wide-eyed, like she hadn't just seen him walk into the house.

He confusingly glanced at Charles, who continued to be amused by his sister. ''I took my car and I drove home from work.'' He answered, matter-of-factly.

''I missed you, but you didn't pick up when I called.'' She told him, Lorenzo's confusion grew even more by the sudden mood swing.

''You didn't call me.''

''She called from Arthur's phone.'' Charles clarified for him.

''Ah~ I thought it was Arthur, so I didn't pick up, but if I had known it was you, I would have definitely answered, Y/N.'' Lorenzo figured he had to be as optimistic as he could be, that way he couldn't upset his sister in any way.

Y/N blushed at his words. ''That's so sweet! I knew you liked me more than Arthur.''

The youngest Leclerc brother must have sensed he was being talked about as footsteps could be heard coming down from the stairs. The door opened and he gave the three of them a suspicious look. ''I heard my name.''

''You must have a very good hearing.'' Lorenzo teased.

''Whatever,'' Arthur brushed it off, ''I'm going, can you tell mom when she gets back?'' He didn't look at his siblings, focused on getting his shoes and jacket on.

''Where are you going?''

''Friends.''

Charles and Lorenzo were satisfied with the answer, not particularly interested in who these friends were. However, their sister was a curious cat. ''Are you gonna see Mick?''

Arthur looked at her for the first time since he came downstairs, frowning. ''Mick? Who? Mick Schumacher?'' He asked her, to which Y/N nodded with an innocent smile on her face.

''No, why? Do you like him?'' The three brothers focused on their sister and how her face became more red. ''I think someone has a crush.''

''Mick's too old for you, Y/N.'' Arthur concluded, grabbing his car keys. He bid them goodbye and was off to meet his friends.

Y/N watched him leave, an offended expression on her face. ''He's not too old for me.''

''He's like 7 years older than you, that's too much. There are plenty people of your age who would love to date you.'' Charles said, not even wanting to think about his sister dating any of the other drivers on the grid.

Lorenzo agreed with his younger brother. ''Yes, by the way, you are way too young to have a boyfriend,'' he told her more sternly, ''or girlfriend.'' He doesn't discriminate.

''And if you're gonna date someone, don't date people who do motorsport.'' Charles added.

''So, no Mick?''

Both brothers shook their heads at her question, amused by her disappointment.

''How about Sebastian? He's retiring.''

"..."

''I'm not even gonna answer that one, I don't want that image in my head.''

''What's it with you and older guys?''

charles_leclerc added to his story !

[slamdunkhcs]

Considering the fact they’re basketball players who have to condition (even on the off-season), I thought this would be fun to think about :). And also i go to the gym and i see boys like them all the time there

slam dunk boys at the gym

rukawa

• One thing about Rukawa, he is going to the gym ALONE. Like it’ll literally be him, his airpods, a towel, and a fat waterbottle against the world. I don’t think he’d hate working out with someone, but he’d prefer to workout alone since he can stay focused and go at his own pace.

• He’d have both his AirPods in at full volume and go CRAZY on the machines/weightlifting bars. I think for his stamina, he would use the Stairmaster at full speed and go on it for as long as he could.

• I’d say that he does workouts for all of his body, but his favorite workouts would be arm ones, just because he’ll be able to put more power into his basketball shots.

• I don’t think he’d be approached by anyone at the gym since he’s always super focused on his workout and looks VERY intimidating, but if you went up to him and asked him for help, he’d do it.

• BUTTTT If he was in a bad mood that day, he might just put his AirPod right back in and ignore you 😂. However, after he cools off, he’d feel kinda bad. And then sigh and go up to you like “What did you need help with?”

• HE’D DEF BE ADMIRED BY ALL THE GYM BADDIES!!!!!

ryota

• Ok I feel like his level of productivity would depend on who he’s at the gym with. If he’s with Mitsui, those two are gonna try and compete with who could lift heavier weights 😂. But if he’s with Sakuragi, aint NOTHING getting done.

• He will take a ton of gym photos and mirror selfies and post them like “Hitting the gym today ✅” on Insta/Snap. AND HE’LL SEND THEM ALL TO AYAKO 😂😂😂. His gym fits will be coordinated asf too!!! He will go over there dripped out!!!

• I think if he goes alone he’d be really focused. He wouldn’t look intimidating or anything but he’d keep to himself and put on some music (def rnb like bryson tiller or brent faiyaz) and do his workouts. If the gym had a track area, he’d walk around and jus think about life and whatever happened throughout his day.

• Now if Ayako tagged along with him to the gym one day… HES GONNA ACT A FOOL. Like he will literally just stand by her the entire time as if he’s her mf bodyguard. And if a man even TRIED to talk to her, he would instantly shoo him away 💀

sakuragi

• His productivity would also depend on who hes with 😂

• If he’s with his lil gang… they getting into BIG trouble. Those idiots would fool around and try and swing around the weightlifting bar and hit eachother with it. They’d cause a big commotion and then get escorted out the gym by mf security.

• I think he’d go alone alot lowkey… especially after rehabilitation, he’d go there to do light workouts to prepare himself for basketball practice.

• I f he doesn’t know how to properly use a machine, this mf is NOT ASKING NOBODYYY for help 💀. Like he will stand there and stubbornly try messing with it until either he figures it out, or one of the gym’s staff sees him and offers him help

• I feel like he’d be very popular with the elderly people at the gym. Like in the mens’ locker room, the old men would look at him and be like “Back in my day, I was a lot like you, son,” and be hyping him up on his muscles and big build. AND HE’D ACT ALL OVERCONFIDENT but he’d lowkey be smiling about it for the rest of the day. He’d smile and make a peace sign whenever he sees one of the elderly regulars there. And if they asked him for help, he’d help!!!!! He’d have a whole community of uncles and aunties at the gym

• In terms of people around his age tho.. it’s a different story. If someone is using a machine or area he’s trying to use, he’s gonna be SOOO inpatient. Especially if whoever is on it isn’t using it. If it’s a girl, he’d ask politely, but if it’s a guy, he’ll mean mug tf outta them, until they get intimidated and walk away 😭

• If he and Ryota are at the gym together, those two will take SO many pictures. Half of the time they’d jus be talking and talking, and wouldn’t get ANYTHING accomplished

mitsui

• Ok, one thing about Mitsui, he is NOT going to the gym alone. Like he will hit the whole mf team up and ask them to go with him. Even Akagi.

• I think he’d go frequently though, especially in order to build up his stamina. Rukawa would show him the Stairmaster machine and he’d go CRAZY on there. Like by the end, it’ll say he walked up 200 flights of stairs 😂

• He’d lowkey have so many gym crushes. But he wouldn’t approach ANY of them 😂😂😂. He will just admire, sigh, and then go on with his workout. I think some of the gym baddies would think he’s cute but they wouldn’t approach him

• The reason why he’d be scared of being alone at the gym is because it’d be jus him and his thoughts. AND FOR MITSUI, THATS SCARY ASL. However… I think going to the gym alone from time to time would end up being a way for him to destress and reflect.

PS: IMMA DO A PART TWO WITH AKAGI, SENDOH, SAWAKITA, and whoever else yall want

[dinneronvenus]

Doesn’t Matter Now

⭑ Gojo x fem reader

⭑ inspired by the song “doesn’t matter now” by flyingfish (listen to that while you read for max effect)

⭑ tags: ANGST ON 100, description of a jujutsu technique that forfeits the sorcerer’s life, death, a funeral, a hopeless and depressed Gojo goes to a medium, hinted reincarnation

⭑ synopsis: Gojo already lost his only true friend, so he never thought losing a woman could hurt him so badly

“There’s nothing you could’ve done, Gojo. You didn’t even know.” Utahime spoke softly, her own pain wanting to break through in her voice. “Nobody did.”

Gojo remained silent, eyes glazed over, a cocktail of negative emotions mixing in his mind. He couldn’t even look at Utahime, whose outfit would remind him of you. They stood in the ruins of the shrine your family had built and ran for generations. It had come under attack by many cursed spirits and you had fulfilled your duty to protect the people who lived and worked there, as well as its secrets. With everyone else safe, it would be rebuilt and restored to its original glory, something that should have been a silver lining.

“It is not uncommon for a high priestess to give her life for her people.” Utahime said, voice breaking at the end. This brought Gojo even less comfort.

“You think I don’t know that? You think I hadn’t heard her say those exact words to me before?!” He snapped, still not able to take his eyes off the scene in front of him. It was Utahime’s turn to stay silent.

In the middle of the leveled temple, there was the evidence of your bravery. A set of heavy stone doors bearing an ancient inscription, left open by whatever you had summoned to walk through them, loomed over the two sorcerers. Gojo already knew they’d be used as a gate to honor your memory and remember your sacrifice. His eyes begged to see any scrap of you in the rubble. Maybe this was just a trick, and you were hiding behind one of the doors.

“What could her technique have been to have killed her in the process?” He whispered to the open air, not thinking anyone could’ve heard him.

“Gehenna Gate, it is a technique with the highest of costs,” A raspy voice broke the unbearable quiet. It was your mother, who despite everything, managed to keep a small smile on her face for your surviving friends. “I am sorry she never told you that properly. She wanted to protect you, in her own way.” Her hand came down on Gojo’s shoulder and the kindness in her touch almost burned him alive.

“I didn’t… I wish she…” Gojo stuttered out, hot tears stinging his eyes. Your mother pulled him into a hug, shushing him like a child.

Five days later, your funeral was to be held at your family cemetery in the mountains overlooking the temple. Gojo had no idea how he would survive that. He spent the time until your funeral looking for someone who could communicate with the dead. Thanks to his power and connections, he found one the night before and prepared himself to have one last conversation with you.

“Welcome, sir. I assume you’re here to see Mistress Takemi?” The young man spoke just loud enough to be heard over the jingle of the bell from the door shutting behind him.

“Yeah, and she knows already so I’m just gonna head back there,” Gojo sauntered through the foyer and down the hall to the back room where a woman in black and purple robes standing over a large glass table was waiting on him.

“Welcome Satoru,” she spoke cheerfully with a deep voice that echoed her years of life.

“Don’t call me that. Can we get started?” The overly familiar attitude irked him. The woman cleared her throat and dropped her cheerful act.

“I suppose we can get right to it then.”

The woman had a technique that essentially made her into a human ouija board. Her hands rested on the glass table and it began to glow a soft greenish-blue. Gojo could see the dark circles and puffiness of his eyes in the reflection, suddenly feeling ashamed of himself for being this unable to accept that you were gone.

“Satoru?” His name again, but this time he could hear your voice mixing with Takemi’s voice. He said your name in disbelief, tears of joy in his eyes.

“Yes, yes! It’s me, I wa—”

“You can’t do this, Satoru. It’s against the laws.”

“Please, don’t tell me that right now. You hid so much from me, please just let me ask you one thing.”

Silence. Fearing he’d miss his chance, he went ahead with his question.

“Did you ever really love me?” The depth of sadness and desperation in his voice was unbearable to you, even in your disembodied state. “Why couldn’t you have told me? I could’ve helped you, I would’ve done anything to have saved you.”

“In the mountains where they’ll bury me, follow a trail that begins with pink and white flowers. You’ll find everything you want to know at the end. Goodbye, Satoru.”

“No, no, no,” He wiped the tears from his face and gripped both of Takemi’s shoulders, shouting. “Please come back! I can’t do this again!”

Regaining full control of herself, Takemi pushed Gojo off her and had him escorted out of her shop. The whole world was one hideous shade of grey. He walked for a while with no destination in mind but the grave. He wanted to go find that trail right now but he didn’t have anything else left in him. He wanted to sleep for the rest of his life. Returning home, he set his alarm and went to bed with your instructions in mind.

Utahime and Gojo walked with each other up the mountain to the funeral site. Utahime thought it was odd but refreshing to see him dressed in more traditional clothing. Just one more thing that only you could get him to do.

Everyone took their places, and your father stepped up to the podium. “We are gathered here to send our beloved high priestess to her place of final rest with her ancestors…”

Once the funeral was complete, no one but Gojo, Utahime and your mother lingered too long.

“I’m sorry again for your loss, ma’am.” Utahime said, bowing deeply. Your mother gave her another one of those wise, otherworldly smiles.

“I don’t think I’ve really lost her.” She said before taking a last look around the cemetery and turning to leave. “Why don’t we give him some space?” She motioned to Gojo and Utahime followed her.

Now alone with your memory and your ghost, Gojo began to look for this trail you had mentioned. It took him a while to find it but when he did, his path to the end was quick. It led to a small clearing where the grass was lush, and he was consumed by the smell of many different kinds of flowers and plants. The sight of the small garden was as beautiful as you were to him.

Looking around for anything that could be the answer you spoke of, he saw a faint bit of energy coming from inside a tree. When he got close to the tree, he found it had a hollow spot in it where you’d left a diary. He fished it out and walked to a shaded place in the clearing to begin reading it. Every page was an entry about the two of you together. All of your private feelings from when he was just a crush, and once you had gotten closer, you even glued in pictures you’d taken together.

Gojo couldn’t control his tears or hide his sobs. His body shook against the tree as he held the diary close to his chest. He calmed down enough to continue reading it, with the last entry being dated a week ago.

She knew she was going to die… He thought. You had written about the rise of cursed spirits in the area of increasing numbers and strength and how you felt like it was time for you to fulfill your duty to your people. More than that though, you wrote about how you wished you could have told Gojo. How you wanted to stay with him forever, how he was the only thing you’d ever loved as much as you loved the Gods, and how because of that you wanted to make sure he was safe and didn’t have to fight for once.

It was all too much, Gojo swore he would drown in his own tears right there. The wind picked up and blew the diary’s pages, landing on entry from before you two had met.

6.25 — Training Notes: after a long session of training and studying my technique’s history in my family. I have learned of a way I might be able to circumvent its cost. If I summon a deity of destruction that has the ability to reincarnate, then I will reincarnate too! One of my ancestors did that long ago, although it took 59 days for them to come back.

Gojo couldn’t believe what he was reading. He wiped his eyes on his sleeves furiously and scrambled to his feet. He stored your diary in an inner pocket of his kimono and made his way down the mountains to the temple ruins.

He inspected the gate and found exactly what he needed to be able to accept the loss of the only woman he’s ever loved. Utahime was strolling the grounds when she noticed him in the air, getting a close look at the doors.

“Gojo, what do you think you’re doing? Get down here!” Utahime found his behavior so disgraceful. He chuckled on his way back to earth.

“I was just checking on something. Had to be sure that I wasn’t seeing things.”

His eyes were red and puffy, but his annoyingly cheerful attitude was starting to return. Utahime couldn’t tell if she was relieved or annoyed.

“Checking on what?”

“Eh,” Gojo put a hand over the diary in his pocket.

“Doesn’t matter now.”

[sttoru]

“DO NOT INTERRUPT.”

༄ sypnosis. toji has bought you to his apartment for a quickie before he has to take on another job. toji’s agent, shiu, seems to interrupt the moment at the wrong time.

༄ note. listen i need them both in me okay.. don’t blame me f this .ehemmm, enjoy. this post contains smut. proceed at your own risk. part 2 here.

༄ tags. dom!toji x female reader. daddy kink, breast play, (implied) threesome, voyeurism, free use, dumbificiation, objectification, belly bulging, p in v — unprotected, you r not in a romantic relationship in this, toji is arrogant and a player ig, reader gets called ‘little girl, pretty, doll, sweet thing’

“toji. we don’t have all day.”

a muffled, male voice echoes through the hallway of toji’s apartment. it was a voice which toji had grown to dislike; especially due to the fact that it has interrupted many intimate moments he had with his women.

an example of such moments being now. toji had invited you over for a quickie before he had to leave to take care of a bounty he accepted. he needed to relieve his stress somehow (especially due to the constant nagging from his agent).

“tsk,” toji grumbles a few incoherent curses under his breath as he continues to drill his cock into your cunt, “can’t ya let me enjoy my woman properly for once?”

“ah, fuck, yeah—take it.” the assassin grunts, this time to you as he forces your thighs further apart; an attempt to bully his swollen tip as far as it could reach.

you hadn’t even noticed the other manly voice which didn’t belong to toji, nor had you realised that the owner of that voice slowly started to come closer to the living room. you were too lost in the pleasure you were getting as the man on top of you rubbed a calloused finger over your clit.

the heavy footsteps of toji’s agent tapping against the wooden floor increased in frequency until they eventually stopped at the door; shiu leaned against the frame, one hand in his pocket while the other held a cigarette to his lips.

“that a new one?” shiu asks as he nods his head at you, who was clearly too busy to even notice his presence in the room.

shiu’s eyes shamelessly wandered across your naked body. as much as he didn’t want to admit it out loud, the erotic sight was making him forget about the job the two were supposed to get done by the evening.

his lazy gaze was focused on the way your cunt swallowed toji’s dick, your tits that bounced with every thrust and your glossy lips that babbled mindless words.

“yeah—shit, look at her, takin’ my cock so well.” toji eventually answers in a low groan, his grip on the back of your thighs tightening as to not give you the chance to escape, “gonna need to keep her ‘round so i can use her whenever.”

your blurry vision made it hard for you to see anything but toji clearly. your hands were desperately clinging onto his biceps which tensed each time you held or caressed them in the slightest.

your eyes slowly wandered from toji to the figure standing in the doorway. you couldn’t make out who it was.

“eyes on me, little girl.” toji scoffs, one hand coming up to forcefully turn your jaw so he’d be able to look into your teary eyes, “that’s it—lemme see those pretty eyes of y’rs as i fuck you, yeah?”

multiple whimpers reverberated throughout the living room as your poor body was pushed back on the couch due to toji’s massive weight leaning on top of yours. you could see the way the scarred corner of his lips curled into a smirk, completely enjoying the taste and view of your body.

“just like that, pretty. mhm, look at me.”

as toji continues to stretch out your little cunt—entirely ignoring his agent watching the two of you as always—shiu takes a long drag of his cigarette before blowing the smoke out.

as much as shiu wanted to deny that the sight had turned him on, the slight twitch in his pants said otherwise. the agent keeps his eyes on your body; shiu’d seen toji bring in many women before, however you and your high pitched moans that filled the air were too addictive. hypnotising almost.

though, shiu knew that at least one person in the room needed to stay rational. toji was obviously thinking with his dick and not his head at the moment.

“come on. time’s tick—” before shiu could finish his sentence, toji had already started to talk instead.

“shhh,” toji shushes his agent in slight annoyance, wanting nothing more than to enjoy you without having someone interrupting, “if ya ain’t gonna join, might as well shut it.”

that latter made shiu freeze in place a little, glancing from you to toji and back. shiu quickly clears his throat, rolling his eyes at the words uttered to him.

he takes a quick drag from his cigarette again, letting the ashes scatter on the floor. “i’d have to decline that offer.”

toji grins from ear to ear—eyes still focused on the way your body was quivering underneath him. his thick hand presses on your lower abdomen, feeling the outline of his dick on his palm.

“yeah? ‘re ya sure?” toji hums, finally averting his gaze from your curves to look at his agent. toji immediately knew that shiu was holding himself back, trying to play the ‘professional’ part.

a low, mocking scoff leaves toji’s lips before he looks back at you; slamming his hips against yours even harder, his heavy balls slapping against the flesh of your ass with each pump.

“i’m sure this sweet thing won’t mind being shared,” he adds, voice so sultry that it would be enough to put you in a trance, “right, doll?”

the only thing you were capable of doing was moaning and whimpering. you tried to answer him, however you cut yourself off once you felt toji flick his tongue over your nipple.

“mmh ! aah— nhh, t-toji, toji!” you repeated his name in such a sinful manner that made toji let out an arrogant laugh; he’s never failed even once to reduce the women he slept with to mindless toys who only know how to scream out his name.

“aww, can’t talk now, can ya?” toji snickers, “let daddy do the talking for ya, ‘kay? no need to have my little girl overstimulate herself.”

you nod at his words without second thoughts, drooling over yourself as your legs trembled from literally being pounded into the soft couch.

toji turns to his agent again, keeping the fast and quick tempo, the wet sounds of your own fluids mixing with his almost driving him to the edge. the loud sounds of his thrusts were impossible to ignore as well.

“i’m givin’ ya a nice opportunity here,” toji starts, swearing under his breath as he felt you tighten up around him once he hit that sweet spot inside of you.

“i ain’t the type to share my women, y’know? better make up y’r mind quick before ‘m done with her.”

shiu’s gaze flickers from your spent body to toji and then he sighs deeply. he flicks his cigarette to the side after thinking it through.

he doesn’t have much time to meet women any way. he might as well take the generous chance that was given to him.

shiu walks up to the two of you on the couch, his veiny hand already loosening his tie and unbuttoning his dress shirt.

“fine, but we have ten minutes.”