#w. waves-and-babes

[arainhabranca]

[ 𝒔𝒎𝒔 📲 ] how long is the gestation period for a giraffe @waves-and-babes

FLASHBACK — antes dos perdidos.

[ 𝒔𝒄𝒓𝒐𝒍𝒍 📜 ] O que são "girafas"? [ 𝒔𝒄𝒓𝒐𝒍𝒍 📜 ] Nunca as vi pelo País das Maravilhas... É algum tipo de invenção do Dr. Frankenstein? [ 𝒔𝒄𝒓𝒐𝒍𝒍 📜 ] Parecem assustadoras, Eric!

(uma hora depois...)

🗞 JORNAL MÁGICO: "Rainha Branca decreta banimento de girafas no País das Maravilhas. Confira todas as 87 outras coisas que também foram banidas do País das Maravilhas e saiba como não ser preso durante a sua viagem de férias por lá!"

[causethatsiconic]

this started is happening in the feira de halloween and is exclusive for @waves-and-babes eyes and the last thing she said was: " i don't feel any different. do i look any different? "

Julieta estreitou os olhos para o príncipe a sua frente, como quem o analisava milimetricamente, era uma bela visão, e bem ela precisava ter certeza. Os olhos da morena se demoravam em cada parte, não era como se tivesse qualquer tipo de pressa ou se importasse muito de estar encarando de maneira tão descarada para o outro, sempre ouviu que ' aquilo que é bonito deve ser admirado ' ou qualquer coisa assim. " não me parece tão diferença, mas é melhor eu olhar mais de perto, sabe como é... só pra ter certeza. "

[sanstropfremir]

i sent the flower ask, yeah i know dances were always made to go viral, i mean tiktok trend specifically as it being very bad and way too simple. even if you compare it to other newer girl groups whos main target is tiktok trends too, it feels like choreographers picked the simplest possible moves that dont even fit just so that it can be replicated by literally absolutely anyone within 2s

[elaetaoboazinha]

♡⸝⸝‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Cinderela era muito grata pelas amizades que havia feito pelo caminho, e que agora, em sua maioria eram compostas por pessoas e não mais ratinhos e pássaros, mesmo que ainda mantivesse um contato próximo, com aqueles que durante muito tempo foram seus únicos e mais fieis companheiros. A leveza de sua amizade com Eric era algo sempre bem vindo, especialmente em meio ao caos que estava a vida de todos no momento, ele sempre conseguia fazer com que ela se sentisse menos pressionada pelas responsabilidades reais e mais livre, então, eram bom tê-lo por perto. "definitivamente piano. era o que eu acabava tendo mais acesso dentro de casa, minha mãe tocava um pouco e me ensinou o básico quando ainda era viva, e meu pai adorava me ouvir tocar." as lembranças que o instrumento traziam fizeram com que a loira sorrisse tristemente, fazia tempo que não pensava nos pais, em tudo na verdade. Balançou a cabeça afastando os pensamentos triste e se voltou para o amigo ao seu lado. "mas sim, piano e sei um pouco de flauta também, depois de tanto ouvir minhas meia irmãs praticarem, acabei aprendendo alguma coisa." sorriu abertamente, se sentando em frente ao piano. "eu adoraria tocar na próxima festa!" disse sorrindo. "mas você sabe como a Fada Madrinha é com as regras. Talvez ela precise de um pouco de convencimento… E eu acho que formar uma banda com seria uma excelente ideia, com certeza faríamos sucesso." assentiu animadamente, pensando sobre a ideia, mesmo que fosse totalmente nada realista, deslizou os dedos suavemente sobre as teclas, ainda sem tocar o piano de fato. "quanto ao nome… 'Five Minutes to Midnight' é divertido, e até que faz sentido. " disse rindo mais uma vez, era ótima um clima mais leve como aquele. "mas, honestamente, você e eu temos a tendência de mudar de foco toda semana, do jeito que somos, é capaz de a banda pode acabar virando um clube de jardinagem antes que a próxima festa chegue."

Quem: @elaetaoboazinha Onde: Castelo da Cinderela - Sala de música

Poderia até soar estranho a primeira vista para quem não o conhecia, mas a verdade é que Eric se dava muito melhor com os príncipes e princesas que eram de um mundo a parte socialmente, que não sabia lidar com todas aquelas normas e burocracias da realeza. E talvez fosse por isso que sua amizade com Ella floresceu de forma tão rápida e espontânea, especialmente pela mudança constante de hobbies dos dois. No atual momento, o foco de ambos parecia estar mais voltado para a música e isso talvez fosse uma influência das músicas novas vindas do mundo dos perdidos, havia o feito se interessar um pouco mais de novo pela beleza dos instrumentos musicais. ❝Então, qual deles fosse já sabe um pouco? O piano? Eu uma vez aprendi um pouco do acordeão, tenho aprendido mais sobre violoncelo esses tempos... Mas não acho que eu ainda saiba o suficiente pra instruir alguma coisa.❞ Ainda que não estivesse indo tão mal quanto era o programado, mas não negava que estava mais ansioso para aprender a tocar harpa. E tudo bem, talvez aprender um pouco de cada instrumento de uma vez só não fosse o ideal, mas Eric nunca fazia o ideal quando se tratava de hobbies ou distrair a própria mente inquieta. Se sentou em um canto do banco do piano e sorriu para a amiga, certo divertimento em seus olhos antes de falar. ❝Sabe, acho que deveria convencer a Fada Madrinha a nos deixar tocar na próxima festa... Aproveitar que não estamos mais cheios de responsabilidades reais e formar uma banda. Ai a gente chama a Adella também... Se não tiver problemas, até conheço alguns perdidos que topariam a ideia. Mas a gente precisaria de um bom nome pra banda algo como Five Minutes to Midnight ou Midnight Wave... Ok, eu sou péssimo com nomes, mas a ideia é divertida.❞

[elaetaoboazinha]

this started is happening in castelo bem assombrado and is exclusive for @waves-and-babes eyes

♡⸝⸝‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ A ideia de ir até o castelo tinha sido de Cinderela, mas assim que adentrou o ambiente, ela considerou que talvez aquela não tivesse sido uma de suas melhores ideias. A sensação de algo que pularia sobre si ou que teria que sair correndo a qualquer instante não era das mais reconfortantes, mas se ela estava vestida como uma pirata lhe restava ir atrás de uma nova aventura, ao menos durante aquela noite, e se havia algo que não faltava dentro de si era coragem. Então, lá estava ela junto a Eric, que tinha sido praticamente arrastado para acompanha-la, dando seus primeiros passos em direção a sustos desconhecidos. " até que não é tão mal assim, não acha? ‎

[therealbeachfox]

Twenty years ago, February 15th, 2004, I got married for the first time.

It was twenty years earlier than I ever expected to.

To celebrate/comemorate the date, I'm sitting down to write out everything I remember as I remember it. No checking all the pictures I took or all the times I've written about this before. I'm not going to turn to my husband (of twenty years, how the f'ing hell) to remember a detail for me.

This is not a 100% accurate recounting of that first wild weekend in San Francisco. But it -is- a 100% accurate recounting of how I remember it today, twenty years after the fact.

Join me below, if you would.

2004 was an election year, and much like conservatives are whipping up anti-trans hysteria and anti-trans bills and propositions to drive out the vote today, in 2004 it was all anti-gay stuff. Specifically, preventing the evil scourge of same-sex marriage from destroying everything good and decent in the world.

Enter Gavin Newstrom. At the time, he was the newly elected mayor of San Francisco. Despite living next door to the city all my life, I hadn’t even heard of the man until Valentines Day 2004 when he announced that gay marriage was legal in San Francisco and started marrying people at city hall.

It was a political stunt. It was very obviously a political stunt. That shit was illegal, after all. But it was a very sweet political stunt. I still remember the front page photo of two ancient women hugging each other forehead to forehead and crying happy tears.

But it was only going to last for as long as it took for the California legal system to come in and make them knock it off.

The next day, we’re on the phone with an acquaintance, and she casually mentions that she’s surprised the two of us aren’t up at San Francisco getting married with everyone else.

“Everyone else?” Goes I, “I thought they would’ve shut that down already?”

“Oh no!” goes she, “The courts aren’t open until Tuesday. Presidents Day on Monday and all. They’re doing them all weekend long!”

We didn’t know because social media wasn’t a thing yet. I only knew as much about it as I’d read on CNN, and most of the blogs I was following were more focused on what bullshit President George W Bush was up to that day.

"Well shit", me and my man go, "do you wanna?" I mean, it’s a political stunt, it wont really mean anything, but we’re not going to get another chance like this for at least 20 years. Why not?

The next day, Sunday, we get up early. We drive north to the southern-most BART station. We load onto Bay Area Rapid Transit, and rattle back and forth all the way to the San Francisco City Hall stop.

We had slightly miscalculated.

Apparently, demand for marriages was far outstripping the staff they had on hand to process them. Who knew. Everyone who’d gotten turned away Saturday had been given tickets with times to show up Sunday to get their marriages done. My babe and I, we could either wait to see if there was a space that opened up, or come back the next day, Monday.

“Isn’t City Hall closed on Monday?” I asked. “It’s a holiday”

“Oh sure,” they reply, “but people are allowed to volunteer their time to come in and work on stuff anyways. And we have a lot of people who want to volunteer their time to have the marriage licensing offices open tomorrow.”

“Oh cool,” we go, “Backup.”

“Make sure you’re here if you do,” they say, “because the California Supreme Court is back in session Tuesday, and will be reviewing the motion that got filed to shut us down.”

And all this shit is super not-legal, so they’ll totally be shutting us down goes unsaid.

00000

We don’t get in Saturday. We wind up hanging out most of the day, though.

It’s… incredible. I can say, without hyperbole, that I have never experienced so much concentrated joy and happiness and celebration of others’ joy and happiness in all my life before or since. My face literally ached from grinning. Every other minute, a new couple was coming out of City Hall, waving their paperwork to the crowd and cheering and leaping and skipping. Two glorious Latina women in full Mariachi band outfits came out, one in the arms of another. A pair of Jewish boys with their families and Rabbi. One couple managed to get a Just Married convertible arranged complete with tin-cans tied to the bumper to drive off in. More than once I was giving some rice to throw at whoever was coming out next.

At some point in the mid-afternoon, there was a sudden wave of extra cheering from the several hundred of us gathered at the steps, even though no one was coming out. There was a group going up the steps to head inside, with some generic black-haired shiny guy at the front. My not-yet-husband nudged me, “That’s Newsom.” He said, because he knew I was hopeless about matching names and people.

Ooooooh, I go. That explains it. Then I joined in the cheers. He waved and ducked inside.

So dusk is starting to fall. It’s February, so it’s only six or so, but it’s getting dark.

“Should we just try getting in line for tomorrow -now-?” we ask.

“Yeah, I’m afraid that’s not going to be possible.” One of the volunteers tells us. “We’re not allowed to have people hang out overnight like this unless there are facilities for them and security. We’d need Porta-Poties for a thousand people and police patrols and the whole lot, and no one had time to get all that organized. Your best bet is to get home, sleep, and then catch the first BART train up at 5am and keep your fingers crossed.

Monday is the last day to do this, after all.

00000

So we go home. We crash out early. We wake up at 4:00. We drive an hour to hit the BART station. We get the first train up. We arrive at City Hall at 6:30AM.

The line stretches around the entirety of San Francisco City Hall. You could toss a can of Coke from the end of the line to the people who’re up to be first through the doors and not have to worry about cracking it open after.

“Uh.” We go. “What the fuck is -this-?”

So.

Remember why they weren’t going to be able to have people hang out overnight?

Turns out, enough SF cops were willing to volunteer unpaid time to do patrols to cover security. And some anonymous person delivered over a dozen Porta-Poties that’d gotten dropped off around 8 the night before.

It’s 6:30 am, there are almost a thousand people in front of us in line to get this literal once in a lifetime marriage, the last chance we expect to have for at least 15 more years (it was 2004, gay rights were getting shoved back on every front. It was not looking good. We were just happy we lived in California were we at least weren’t likely to loose job protections any time soon.).

Then it starts to rain.

We had not dressed for rain.

00000

Here is how the next six hours go.

We’re in line. Once the doors open at 7am, it will creep forward at a slow crawl. It’s around 7 when someone shows up with garbage bags for everyone. Cut holes for the head and arms and you’ve got a makeshift raincoat! So you’ve got hundreds of gays and lesbians decked out in the nicest shit they could get on short notice wearing trashbags over it.

Everyone is so happy.

Everyone is so nervous/scared/frantic that we wont be able to get through the doors before they close for the day.

People online start making delivery orders.

Coffee and bagels are ordered in bulk and delivered to City Hall for whoever needs it. We get pizza. We get roses. Random people come by who just want to give hugs to people in line because they’re just so happy for us. The tour busses make detours to go past the lines. Chinese tourists lean out with their cameras and shout GOOD LUCK while car horns honk.

A single sad man holding a Bible tries to talk people out of doing this, tells us all we’re sinning and to please don’t. He gives up after an hour. A nun replaces him with a small sign about how this is against God’s will. She leaves after it disintegrates in the rain.

The day before, when it was sunny, there had been a lot of protestors. Including a large Muslim group with their signs about how “Not even DOGS do such things!” Which… Yes they do.

A lot of snide words are said (by me) about how the fact that we’re willing to come out in the rain to do this while they’re not willing to come out in the rain to protest it proves who actually gives an actual shit about the topic.

Time passes. I measure it based on which side of City Hall we’re on. The doors face East. We start on Northside. Coffee and trashbags are delivered when we’re on the North Side. Pizza first starts showing up when we’re on Westside, which is also where I see Bible Man and Nun. Roses are delivered on Southside. And so forth.

00000

We have Line Neighbors.

Ahead of us are a gay couple a decade or two older than us. They’ve been together for eight years. The older one is a school teacher. He has his coat collar up and turns away from any news cameras that come near while we reposition ourselves between the lenses and him. He’s worried about the parents of one of his students seeing him on the news and getting him fired. The younger one will step away to get interviewed on his own later on. They drove down for the weekend once they heard what was going on. They’d started around the same time we did, coming from the Northeast, and are parked in a nearby garage.

The most perky energetic joyful woman I’ve ever met shows up right after we turned the corner to Southside to tackle the younger of the two into a hug. She’s their local friend who’d just gotten their message about what they’re doing and she will NOT be missing this. She is -so- happy for them. Her friends cry on her shoulders at her unconditional joy.

Behind us are a lesbian couple who’d been up in San Francisco to celebrate their 12th anniversary together. “We met here Valentines Day weekend! We live down in San Diego, now, but we like to come up for the weekend because it’s our first love city.”

“Then they announced -this-,” the other one says, “and we can’t leave until we get married. I called work Sunday and told them I calling in sick until Wednesday.”

“I told them why,” her partner says, “I don’t care if they want to give me trouble for it. This is worth it. Fuck them.”

My husband-to-be and I look at each other. We’ve been together for not even two years at this point. Less than two years. Is it right for us to be here? We’re potentially taking a spot from another couple that’d been together longer, who needed it more, who deserved it more.”

“Don’t you fucking dare.” Says the 40-something gay couple in front of us.

“This is as much for you as it is for us!” says the lesbian couple who’ve been together for over a decade behind us.

“You kids are too cute together,” says the gay couple’s friend. “you -have- to. Someday -you’re- going to be the old gay couple that’s been together for years and years, and you deserve to have been married by then.”

We stay in line.

It’s while we’re on the Southside of City Hall, just about to turn the corner to Eastside at long last that we pick up our own companions. A white woman who reminds me an awful lot of my aunt with a four year old black boy riding on her shoulders. “Can we say we’re with you? His uncles are already inside and they’re not letting anyone in who isn’t with a couple right there.” “Of course!” we say.

The kid is so very confused about what all the big deal is, but there’s free pizza and the busses keep driving by and honking, so he’s having a great time.

We pass by a statue of Lincoln with ‘Marriage for All!’ and "Gay Rights are Human Rights!" flags tucked in the crooks of his arms and hanging off his hat.

It’s about noon, noon-thirty when we finally make it through the doors and out of the rain.

They’ve promised that anyone who’s inside when the doors shut will get married. We made it. We’re safe.

We still have a -long- way to go.

00000

They’re trying to fit as many people into City Hall as possible. Partially to get people out of the rain, mostly to get as many people indoors as possible. The line now stretches down into the basement and up side stairs and through hallways I’m not entirely sure the public should ever be given access to. We crawl along slowly but surely.

It’s after we’ve gone through the low-ceiling basement hallways past offices and storage and back up another set of staircases and are going through a back hallway of low-ranked functionary offices that someone comes along handing out the paperwork. “It’s an hour or so until you hit the office, but take the time to fill these out so you don’t have to do it there!”

We spend our time filling out the paperwork against walls, against backs, on stone floors, on books.

We enter one of the public areas, filled with displays and photos of City Hall Demonstrations of years past.

I take pictures of the big black and white photo of the Abraham Lincoln statue holding banners and signs against segregation and for civil rights.

The four year old boy we helped get inside runs past us around this time, chased by a blond haired girl about his own age, both perused by an exhausted looking teenager helplessly begging them to stop running.

Everyone is wet and exhausted and vibrating with anticipation and the building-wide aura of happiness that infuses everything.

The line goes into the marriage office. A dozen people are at the desk, shoulder to shoulder, far more than it was built to have working it at once.

A Sister of Perpetual Indulgence is directing people to city officials the moment they open up. She’s done up in her nun getup with all her makeup on and her beard is fluffed and be-glittered and on point. “Oh, I was here yesterday getting married myself, but today I’m acting as your guide. Number 4 sweeties, and -Congradulatiooooons!-“

The guy behind the counter has been there since six. It’s now 1:30. He’s still giddy with joy. He counts our money. He takes our paperwork, reviews it, stamps it, sends off the parts he needs to, and hands the rest back to us. “Alright, go to the Rotunda, they’ll direct you to someone who’ll do the ceremony. Then, if you want the certificate, they’ll direct you to -that- line.” “Can’t you just mail it to us?” “Normally, yeah, but the moment the courts shut us down, we’re not going to be allowed to.”

We take our paperwork and join the line to the Rotunda.

If you’ve seen James Bond: A View to a Kill, you’ve seen the San Francisco City Hall Rotunda. There are literally a dozen spots set up along the balconies that overlook the open area where marriage officials and witnesses are gathered and are just processing people through as fast as they can.

That’s for the people who didn’t bring their own wedding officials.

There’s a Catholic-adjacent couple there who seem to have brought their entire families -and- the priest on the main steps. They’re doing the whole damn thing. There’s at least one more Rabbi at work, I can’t remember what else. Just that there was a -lot-.

We get directed to the second story, northside. The San Francisco City Treasurer is one of our two witnesses. Our marriage officient is some other elected official I cannot remember for the life of me (and I'm only writing down what I can actively remember, so I can't turn to my husband next to me and ask, but he'll have remembered because that's what he does.)

I have a wilting lily flower tucked into my shirt pocket. My pants have water stains up to the knees. My hair is still wet from the rain, I am blubbering, and I can’t get the ring on my husband’s finger. The picture is a treat, I tell you.

There really isn’t a word for the mix of emotions I had at that time. Complete disbelief that this was reality and was happening. Relief that we’d made it. Awe at how many dozens of people had personally cheered for us along the way and the hundreds to thousands who’d cheered for us generally.

Then we're married.

Then we get in line to get our license.

It’s another hour. This time, the line goes through the higher stories. Then snakes around and goes past the doorway to the mayor’s office.

Mayor Newsom is not in today. And will be having trouble getting into his office on Tuesday because of the absolute barricade of letters and flowers and folded up notes and stuffed animals and City Hall maps with black marked “THANK YOU!”s that have been piled up against it.

We make it to the marriage records office.

I take a picture of my now husband standing in front of a case of the marriage records for 1902-1912. Numerous kids are curled up in corners sleeping. My own memory is spotty. I just know we got the papers, and then we’re done with lines. We get out, we head to the front entrance, and we walk out onto the City Hall steps.

It's almost 3PM.

00000

There are cheers, there’s rice thrown at us, there are hundreds of people celebrating us with unconditional love and joy and I had never before felt the goodness that exists in humanity to such an extent. It’s no longer raining, just a light sprinkle, but there are still no protestors. There’s barely even any news vans.

We make our way through the gauntlet, we get hands shaked, people with signs reading ”Congratulations!” jump up and down for us. We hit the sidewalks, and we begin to limp our way back to the BART station.

I’m at the BART station, we’re waiting for our train back south, and I’m sitting on the ground leaning against a pillar and in danger of falling asleep when a nondescript young man stops in front of me and shuffles his feet nervously. “Hey. I just- I saw you guys, down at City Hall, and I just… I’m so happy for you. I’m so proud of what you could do. I’m- I’m just really glad, glad you could get to do this.”

He shakes my hand, clasps it with both of his and shakes it. I thank him and he smiles and then hurries away as fast as he can without running.

Our train arrives and the trip south passes in a semilucid blur.

We get back to our car and climb in.

It’s 4:30 and we are starving.

There’s a Carls Jr near the station that we stop off at and have our first official meal as a married couple. We sit by the window and watch people walking past and pick out others who are returning from San Francisco. We're all easy to pick out, what with the combination of giddiness and water damage.

We get home about 6-7. We take the dog out for a good long walk after being left alone for two days in a row. We shower. We bundle ourselves up. We bury ourselves in blankets and curl up and just sort of sit adrift in the surrealness of what we’d just done.

We wake up the next day, Tuesday, to read that the California State Supreme Court has rejected the petition to shut down the San Francisco weddings because the paperwork had a misplaced comma that made the meaning of one phrase unclear.

The State Supreme Court would proceed to play similar bureaucratic tricks to drag the process out for nearly a full month before they have nothing left and finally shut down Mayor Newsom’s marriages.

My parents had been out of state at the time at a convention. They were flying into SFO about the same moment we were walking out of City Hall. I apologized to them later for not waiting and my mom all but shook me by the shoulders. “No! No one knew that they’d go on for so long! You did what you needed to do! I’ll just be there for the next one!”

00000

It was just a piece of paper. Legally, it didn’t even hold any weight thirty days later. My philosophy at the time was “marriage really isn’t that important, aside from the legal benefits. It’s just confirming what you already have.”

But maybe it’s just societal weight, or ingrained culture, or something, but it was different after. The way I described it at the time, and I’ve never really come up with a better metaphor is, “It’s like we were both holding onto each other in the middle of the ocean in the middle of a storm. We were keeping each other above water, we were each other’s support. But then we got this piece of paper. And it was like the ground rose up to meet our feet. We were still in an ocean, still in the middle of a storm, but there was a solid foundation beneath our feet. We still supported each other, but there was this other thing that was also keeping our heads above the water.

It was different. It was better. It made things more solid and real.

I am forever grateful for all the forces and all the people who came together to make it possible. It’s been twenty years and we’re still together and still married.

We did a domestic partnership a year later to get the legal paperwork. We’d done a private ceremony with proper rings (not just ones grabbed out of the husband’s collection hours before) before then. And in 2008, we did a legal marriage again.

Rushed. In a hurry. Because there was Proposition 13 to be voted on which would make them all illegal again if it passed.

It did, but we were already married at that point, and they couldn’t negate it that time.

Another few years after that, the Supreme Court finally threw up their hands and said "Fine! It's been legal in places and nothing's caught on fire or been devoured by locusts. It's legal everywhere. Shut up about it!"

And that was that.

00000

When I was in highschool, in the late 90s, I didn’t expect to see legal gay marriage until I was in my 50s. I just couldn’t see how the American public as it was would ever be okay with it.

I never expected to be getting married within five years. I never expected it to be legal nationwide before I’d barely started by 30s. I never thought I’d be in my 40s and it’d be such a non-issue that the conservative rabble rousers would’ve had to move onto other wedge issues altogether.

I never thought that I could introduce another man as my husband and absolutely no one involved would so much as blink.

I never thought I’d live in this world.

And it’s twenty years later today. I wonder how our line buddies are doing. Those babies who were running around the wide open rooms playing tag will have graduated college by now. The kids whose parents the one line-buddy was worried would see him are probably married too now. Some of them to others of the same gender.

I don’t have some greater message to make with all this. Other then, culture can shift suddenly in ways you can’t predict. For good or ill. Mainly this is just me remembering the craziest fucking 36 hours of my life twenty years after the fact and sharing them with all of you.

The future we’re resigned to doesn’t have to be the one we live in. Society can shift faster than you think. The unimaginable of twenty years ago is the baseline reality of today.

And always remember that the people who want to get married will show up by the thousands in rain that none of those who’re against it will brave.

[snekdood]

im not gonna say you cant use the n word w a hard r on a almost fully anonymous tumblr account where you claim to be black-

I will say that it makes you 100% more suspicious and worth keeping an eye out on you bc usually its neo nazis pretending to be black that spam saying the n word w an r and use tumblrs weird trust for almost fully anonymous accounts to their advantage to get away w it

you can say it, but, if you Are a neo nazi pretending to be black, I will say, you're not doing a good job of convincing me rn that you actually are.

[gaiaxygang]

do people like reading silly character study fics that follow canon. the ones that do a little peeking into the brain. maybe with a little bit of extra stuff here and there

[ultravioletrayz]

KINKTOBER

╰┈➤ DAY EIGHT: GLOSSAPHILIA w/ VENOM

You had always been mesmerised by Venom's tongue. The way drool glistened along the thick muscle, the way it stretched and tangled, the sheer size and length of it. You had confessed these thoughts to Eddie one night, the two of you a bit tipsy and in between heated, sloppy kisses when you pulled away with a giggle to discuss all of your filthy fantasies about being speared open by Venom's tongue.

"I was looking forward to getting my turn tonight, but it can be arranged, babe." Eddie had said, effectively shutting you up with his wandering hands finding the crotch of your damp panties, the two of you fucking messily on the couch.

Fast forward a couple weeks later, Eddie's lapping at your clit once you've come home from work, two fingers shoved deep into your cunt and massaging your velvety insides. You're mewling and twitching against him, hips jolting in a plea for more. He gets the message, or rather, Venom gets the message.

Pulling away from your sopping folds, black tendrils and ooze engulf Eddie, Venom's hulking figure overtaking your boyfriends as you pant and watch with lust-blown eyes. He's so fucking big, that huge tongue of his especially, making you salivate and reach out to him. Venom growls darkly in return, the sound vibrating against your inner walls as he positions himself between your legs.

His tongue flicks out, tracing along your slit before finally pressing against your entrance. You gasp at the sensation of his hot, wet muscle against your tight flesh, feeling him tease and stretch you open.

"MUST TASTE YOU." Venom declares, before plunging his tongue deep into you, burying it to the hilt. You cry out in pleasure as he begins to move, his thick length sliding in and out of your cunt, his saliva lubricating your walls and mixing with the pool of arousal seeping onto the sheets. The feeling of being filled up by him is unlike anything you've ever experienced before.

As he continues to piston his tongue in and out of you, you can feel every ridge and undulation of that massive tongue as it claims your body for itself, making your thighs shake and burn with how fucking hard he's thrusting into you. Large hands, big enough to crush your head with ease, hold onto your waist, forcing you further into the mattress so that the tip of his tongue can glide against your cervix, while the rest of the fat muscle writhes and drives within you.

You moan loudly, unable to withhold the sound as Venom's spit and slime rolls over your skin, making you shiver with anticipation for what comes next. You can feel his sharp teeth pulsing against your inner thighs, but before you can warn him, he sinks them into your flesh, drawing blood that mixes with his saliva. The sensation is electrifying, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body as he quickly pulls out to lap up the filthy mixture, before his tongue continues its relentless motions in your cunt, hitting all the right spots and driving you wild with lust. As he picks up the pace, you can feel the muscles in your pelvis tighten, milking his tongue for every last drop of pleasure it can give you.

You throw your head back in ecstasy, arching your back off the mattress as Venom's tongue crashes against that sweet spot inside you, sending waves of white-hot pleasure through your entire being. Your nails scrape against the sheets, desperately clawing for purchase as Venom's powerful thrusts push you ever closer to the brink. With a throaty groan, you come undone, your orgasm shaking your entire body as Venom's tongue curls around and massages your inner walls, milking every last drop of your arousal. He continues to lap at you long after you've climaxed, savouring every drop of your essence as it mixes with his spit.

As he finally pulls away, leaving a slick trail of saliva between your legs, you unravel against the mattress, panting heavily as your brain goes to mush.

"Fuck," you gasp out between breaths, "So good- Too good. Better than my imagination. So- so much better."

Venom chuckles darkly at your words before retracting back into Eddie who collapses onto the bed beside you, grinning widely, "Well, now you know."

[evnseokz]

hii, hope you're doing well!

i'm thinking... bf!jungwon asks to record the sounds while doing sex and his gf decides to surprise him by asking him to cum inside

my first ever ask!! thank you so much for sending 🫶 hopefully i did this suggestion justice ^_^

pairing: bf! jungwon x f. reader

contents: p in v, unprotected sex (do nawt be like them), recording of moans/sex, pet names: baby, babe, kissing, nipple play

w.c. 640

his cock was nestled deep inside you, stretching you out so well. his thrusts were slow and deep, his tip kissing your cervix. your hands gripping his biceps as hard as you could, moans spilling from your lips.

jungwon was obsessed with the way you sounded, your moans being like music to his ears. an idea popped into his head. “baby, can i record your moans please?” he asked suddenly. your eyes which were closed previously, shot open, blush creeping onto your cheeks. “w-what?” you ask, slightly embarrassed at the question. “it’ll be for my ears only babe i swear, just for when i’m away and need to hear you.” he replied sensing hesitancy in your voice. you chewed on your lip as you racked your brain for an answer. finally you nod, jungwon not wasting another second to lean over to grab his phone off the nightstand and hit record. he set the phone down next to your body and focused his attention back to you and only you.

he continued his thrusts into you, light whimpers still falling from your lips, but now hyper aware of the phone recording you, you seemed to be holding back. “c’mon baby let me hear you” jungwon pouted. jungwon picked up his pace without warning, thrusting into you with speed, thus causing loud moans to fall from your mouth. jungwon smiled in satisfaction as he brought his hand down to your heat, and started rubbing circles on your clit. you cry out, the combination of him filling you up so well with his cock and the attention to your clit being all too much. jungwon smirked to himself, feeling you clench around his cock, he groaned slightly.

he can tell you’re close, his thrusts never slow and he leans down to capture you in a kiss. “feels s’good won” you mumble against his lips, he breaks away, and peppers kisses down your neck and to your chest. he brings his mouth down to your nipples, swirling and sucking on the sensitive nubs. the extra sensation sending waves of pleasure through your body, your orgasm ripping through you as jungwon continues to thrust in and out of you, seemingly chasing his own high. “w-where do you want me? i’m c-close” he stutters slightly. you contemplate in your head for a moment. “baby hurry and answer i can’t last much longer” he whines.

you wrap your legs around his waist trapping him in place as he continues to thrust inside you. you can tell he’s holding himself back from cumming, and you giggle slightly at his frustration. “baby it’s not f-funny” his head hangs as his balls begin to tighten. “i’m serious where do you want me” he says again. you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down to be face to face with you, “inside” you say simply. you bite your lip, starting to feel overstimulated from his thrusts. shock is written all over jungwons face, “a-are you su-“ “yes.” you cut him off before he can even finish his question. you smash your lips into his, clenching around him slightly as you feel a second orgasm bubbling up in your stomach. he moans loudly, his hips stuttering and his thrusts becoming sloppy, emptying his seed into your cunt. your second orgasm follows shortly after, milking him for everything he has.

he reaches to his phone, pressing end recording and then he collapses on top of you, you shrieking slightly at the sudden weight on your body. “wonnn you’re heavy” you whine. he slowly lifts himself up, looking you in your face, “sorry baby, you were just too good” he smiled before dropping down to pepper your face with kisses. you giggle, managing to capture his lips into yours for a quick kiss. he pulls away, “i love you so much” he says, “i love you so much my wonie.”

[ham1lton]

NASTY GIRL!

— pairings: oscar piastri x reader.

— faceclaim: rihanna <3

— summary: slut, whore, bitch - all the words that have been used to describe famous party girl yn yln. so when you show up to the grid with a shiny diamond ring on your hand, people are trying to figure out just who would choose you.

— warnings: misogynistic language and attitudes about yn’s behaviour and actions. not from any of the main characters in this au though!

────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

enews: y/n may not be releasing new music anytime soon, but she’s definitely making waves—this time under the sea. the party girl was spotted scuba diving in italy with her usual mixed-gender crew, proving once again that vacationing is her real full-time job. 🎶 or should we say, lack of? #priorities #wherethemusicat?

view all comments

badgalyn: y’all stay on my dick 😭 hop off.

-> user1: LMFAOOOOOO

user2: can a girl not holiday now?

user3: idgaf if she’s partying. she’s been working since she was 16. have a mimosa for me babe <3

-> user4: bffr. she just sings into a mic for a living. that’s not a job.

-> user5: every job is a job. and every job has it’s downsides. she’s been touring every year since her debut almost ten years ago. let her breathe 😭

────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

liked by ynupdates, ferrarigirlies and 2,737,839 others.

f1gossip: look who’s in the ferrari garage today! the singer/songwriter yn on break from… well, her eternal break. and what is that we saw on her hot girl walk through the paddock? a diamond ring? oop 🙊

view all 277,828 comments

user1: LEAVE YN ALONE !1!1!1!111

user2: she’s engaged to charles and they’re gonna have the most gorgeous kids!!

-> user3: um… could be carlos?

-> user2: no 😜

user3: nahhhhh no way she’s engaged 😷

-> user4: like c’mon. it’s probably a rich ceo from behind the scenes. no self respecting f1 driver would want HER 😒

-> user5: like who would actually marry her?

-> user6: u sound so miserable 😭

-> user7: like what fucking weirdos LMFAO 😭 focus on yourselves.

────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

liked by ynsgirlie, oscarspiastri and 1,108,890 others.

ham1ltonshaderoom: singer/songwriter yn was invited by ferrari to watch the baku grand prix but was seen relaxing in the mclaren garage after a photo op. the moment went viral on social media, what do you think of yn’s disappearance ham1ltons?

view all 18,992 comments

user1: idgaf. she can do whatever she wants.

user2: she’s so fucking ungrateful my god.

user3: love her!!!!

user4: who cares?? i just wanna know who put that ring on her finger???

user5: RELEASE THE ALBUM @/BADGALYN

-> user6: RELEASE THAT SHIT NOWW

badgalyn: is it illegal for me to move from place to place now? like damn 😭

-> user7: they stay on ur ass like

-> user8: WHO DOES THAT BIG FAT RING BELONG TO ?!!?!!

-> user8: I KNOW U SEE THIS SHIT

-> user8: ANSWER ME 😭😭

────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

liked by landonorris, badgalyn and 1,090,123 others.

f1: oscar piastri is your ‘24 baku grand prix winner!

view all 80,828 comments

user1: OSCAR GIRLIES EVERYWHERE CHEERED

user2: YASSSSSSSS

user3: SO PROUD WOOOOOOO

user4: YN WHAT ARE U DOING HERE 😭

nicolepiastri: that’s my son btw 🍾🥂

user5: DID Y’ALL SEE YN RUNNING OUT TO KISS OSCAR?????

-> user6: WHAT?2&2&

-> user7: GIRL IT’S ALL OVER TWT

-> user7: https://twitter.com/ynsgirl/status/827373832992125

-> user8: oh… they in love frfr

-> user9: SICK OMG SICK SICK SICK

-> user9: HATE SEEING HAPPY COUPLES

-> user10: the way he carries her?? ims ick

────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

INTERVIEW W/ YN YLN.

by james collins.

she walks into the room like she owns it, a diamond-studded one of a kind necklace hanging off her neck, and a confidence that can only come from being at the top of her game. y/n yln is more than just a household name at this point—she’s a cultural phenomenon. whether it's topping the charts, turning heads with her bold fashion choices, or making headlines for her unapologetic lifestyle, y/n is everywhere.

GQ: let’s get right into it. you’ve never been one to shy away from controversy. you've been called everything from a "party girl" to… well, a lot worse. how do you deal with the constant slut-shaming?

Y/N: (laughs) i mean, what can i say? people are gonna talk whether i’m out at the club or chilling at home in sweats. they see me having fun, and they can’t handle it. honestly, i don’t care. i love my life. if i want to party, i’ll party. if i want to make a million-dollar deal the next morning, i’ll do that too. being called a slut? whatever. it’s just a word. a word can’t hold me down.

GQ: that’s the attitude that’s made you so iconic. but it seems like the more successful you get, the more people try to tear you down. how do you stay grounded amidst all the noise?

Y/N: honestly, it’s all about knowing who you are. like, i know what i bring to the table. the opinions of strangers on the internet? they don’t pay my bills, they don’t run my career. i’ve got a solid circle around me—my family, my team, my people. they keep it real with me, and that’s what matters. plus, i’ve got my own inner voice. if i let every hater get to me, i wouldn’t be where i am now. you gotta block out the noise and keep doing you.

GQ: you’re definitely doing that, and it shows in your music. speaking of which, your last album broke records and you’ve hinted that the next one’s even more personal. what’s the inspiration behind it?

Y/N: oh, this next album is gonna hit different. it’s like a reflection of the last few years—everything i’ve been through, the highs, the lows, and the lessons. i’ve been writing a lot about love, discovery, identity, and power. there’s a track on there that’s straight-up about how people have tried to label me my whole life, and i’m just like, ‘f**k that, i define me.’ there’s some deep stuff in there, but also bangers that’ll make you wanna dance your ass off. it’s a mix, just like me.

GQ: there’s been a lot of talk about one specific song that fans think is about your alleged relationship. care to spill the tea on that?

YN: (smiling) oh, you mean *that* song? (laughs) yeah, people are good at picking up on things. look, i’m not saying too much, but let’s just say it’s a vibe. relationships—especially when you’re in the spotlight—are complicated, and i’m not afraid to write about it. but you’ll have to listen to the track to get the full story.

GQ: fair enough. now, let’s address the gorgeous and expensive elephant in the room—that ring. fans have been speculating non-stop about your engagement. can you confirm or deny the rumors?

Y/N: (grinning) ah, you’re nosy! but yeah, the ring’s real, and it’s from someone very special. look, i’ve never been one to hide anything, but i also love keeping certain things close to my chest. all i’m saying is… things are good. real good.

GQ: the internet’s been trying to piece it together, especially after you were spotted at the mclaren paddock with oscar piastri. any comments on that?

YN: (laughs) you are really trying to get me in trouble! look, i support my friends, i show up for them, and they show up for me. that’s all i’m saying for now. but if people want to talk, let them talk. i’m busy living my life.

GQ: fair enough! last question—what’s next for y/n yln?

Y/N: taking over the world, obviously. (laughs) but for real, the album is coming soon, and i’m working on some new projects that’ll surprise a lot of people. i’m not just a singer, i’m building an empire. music, fashion, business—it’s all on the horizon. so, buckle up, we’re just getting started.

────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

tagged: @/badgalyn

liked by ynswifey, ham1ltonshaderoom and 4,938,983 others

gqmagazine: from island girl to international superstar: our newest covergirl yn yln talks slutshaming, her upcoming album and wedding rumours in this months gq magazine. link in bio! 🔗

view all 2,737,938 comments

oscarpiastri: real good is an understatement 😉

-> user1: WHAT)2&/@/

-> user2: yn being all cryptic and oscar straight up like ‘yeah we together and what about it?’

-> user3: OSCAR HELLO?2&2

landonorris: am i invited to the wedding?

-> landonorris: hellloooo @/badgalyn????

-> landonorris: i’m sosoooooo drunk @/badgalyn

-> landonorris: YYYYYNNNNNNN 😭😭😭

user4: she’s such a bad bitch idgaf

-> user5: ‘i love my life. if i want to party, i’ll party. if i want to make a million-dollar deal the next morning, i’ll do that too. being called a slut? whatever. it’s just a word. a word can’t hold me down.’ — AS YOU SHOULD QUEEN!!!!

user6: y’all … oscaryn is growing on me fr

user7: this is so wattpad trope i love this for them

user8: YN RELEASE THE ALBUM!!!!

user9: MIC DROP FROM OSCAR YUP YUP!

user10: she’s so gorgeous… her face card omg

user11: Y/N YLN AND OSCAR FREAKING PIASTRI ARE ENGAGED AND CONFIRMED IT IN THE MOST CASUAL WAY?? HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO FUNCTION TODAY?!?!

user12: oscaryn engagement. yn6 being in the works. more pics of yn’s face card. ynnies, we won today.

────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

— oscar taglist: @papayadays @assholeinatrenchcoat @mxdi0 @lillysbigwilly @liberty-barnes @yelenasloverrrrr @hiireadstuff @starz4me1 @mvk1ma @lozzamez3 @dear-fifi @ihtscuddlesbeeetchx3 @styl1shl1v @whyamireadingthis @halleest @s4misbetter @llando4norris @chezmardybum @ivyvlair @isthatacandle @luvsforme @fabulouskk01 @littlegrapejuice @anotherblackreader @laur20a23 @greantii @sumlovesjude @sageispunk @mindless-rock @mehrmonga @ravisinghs-wife @six-call @notyaslol @1-800-love-me @nzygftoji @dilflover44 @ilivbullyingjeongin (all works taglist in comments/reblog. if you see yourself tagged and you don’t want to be or you don’t see yourself tagged and you want to be — refill out the taglist in my pinned post! <3)

────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

[sereiaadella]

Tritão proibia Adella de ter contato com qualquer perdido que fizesse parte do novo destino dela. Ela entendia que partia de um lugar de temor: se passasse muito tempo com eles, poderia começar a confundir as coisas e chegar perto demais de tornar aquele futuro real. Mas ela não era conhecida por obedecer ordens de seu pai — e, sinceramente, o que Allison Jung, o Salmão Amaldiçoado, tinha a ver com a sua morte? Não passaria a vomitar mais pétalas de lírio branco só por falar com o amigo pelo iMirror. Ainda assim, por estar em casa, precisava fazê-lo em segredo; e foi por isso que saiu aos gritos atrás de Eric quando ele emergiu de algum canto e roubou o seu espelho. "Para de ser criança, Eric! Me devolve isso! Pelo amor do Tritão, você é um pé no saco." Correu atrás dele, amaldiçoando-o com uma série de palavrões indelicados demais para uma princesa. "Eu vou te matar." Ameaçou com os olhos semicerrados e os braços cruzados, que só se desfizeram quando ele estendeu o iMirror em sua direção. Adella apanhou o espelho de mão como se a sua vida dependesse disso, e soltou um gritinho ao sentir o cunhado bagunçar-lhe os cabelos. "Eu fui no SPA ontem! Caralho, como eu te odeio." Apenas palavras jogadas no ar, claro: no fim, apesar de viver como cão e gato com o marido da irmã, ela se sentia grata de ser ele o dono do coração de Ariel — nunca admitiria isso a ele, nem à caçula, porém. "Por que você quer saber?" Ergueu as sobrancelhas. "Era só um cara que conheci no The Mist." Mentiu. "Ninguém muito interessante, sinto decepcionar." Graças a Merlin, Allison fora rápido o suficiente desligando a chamada. "O que está fazendo aqui? Você não deveria estar, sei lá, procurando tesouros empoeirados com a Ariel e o Linguado ou algo do tipo?"

Quem: @sereiaadella Onde: Casa do Eric e da Ariel - Sala de estar Música: Te amo piranha - MC Bella e MC Mirella

Talvez uma das coisas que Eric havia mais apreciado depois de se casar com a esposa foi que se sentiu acolhido pelas cunhadas, ao menos boa parte delas, eram como as irmãs que ele nunca teve. E não é como se Eric não tivesse sido uma criança insistente na infância, mas os pais já estavam satisfeito com apenas ele dando problemas e causando o caos, temiam que se tivesse outro filho seria o dobro de caos. Bom, agora que Eric estava convivendo ainda mais com Adella, ele começava a entender o ponto dos pais ao menos um pouco. Ainda mais agora que tinha a cunhada correndo atrás dele na sala de casa, Eric apenas ria enquanto erguia o iMirror que havia furtado no meio de uma ligação, em partes apenas a importunar um pouco. Mas também por que quando ele entrou na sala, a mais nova quase jogou o espelho pro alto, tentando esconder sua tela em seguida. ❝Nananinanão! Já disse que só vou te devolver quando falar com quem tava falando ou o que tava armando!❞ E não, não era nada conta dele, mas considerando a tendência daquela família em se envolver em problemas, ele andava um pouco mais preocupado que o normal, ainda que buscasse disfarçar isso com o humor e implicância de leve. Eventualmente, acabou por revirar os olhos e estender o iMirror de volta pra ela, quem quer ela estivesse falando já havia desligado naquele momento. Usou da outra mão para bagunçar os cabelos alheios, sabendo que isso a irritaria, já que ela tinha sempre estar com os cabelos perfeitos. ❝Toma, mas ainda vai ter que me responder ou não vou mais te acobertar quando você quiser sair de fininho pra escapar do seu pai.❞

[k-hotchoisan]

coming home with me

<san x fem!reader>

under the dim lights, Choi San realises that he just can’t keep this casual when it comes to you.

genre/warnings: pwp, smut, furcoat!San, is San being toxic??? I guess we’ll never know!, jealous dom! San, unprotected sex, reader is commando, car sex, fingering riding, breeding kink, spanking

a/n: ahoy!! y’alls gotta thank @bro-atz & @skteezcursed for the fic concept 😘 have been overwhelmed with life so I’m presenting this as my compensation ~

w/c: 3.1K

Under the dim lights, your eyes slowly adjust, and much to your delight, you spot the man you’ve been eye candying at a booth. Of course, you knew he was gonna be there considering you’ve been stalking his socials, and casually asking your mutual friends about his favourite hang-out spots. 

He’s cute, you think, stealing glances at him from afar, wondering how you should approach him. A coincidence? Maybe stage an accident? 

“And what’s the end goal for you with him?” You hear your friend’s voice piercing into your thoughts. 

Well, initially, it was mostly a light-hearted flirty thing. You just thought he was cute. All romance sparks started off with the thrill of liking someone. It just hadn’t reached to that point with him yet. 

“Maybe play around? I don’t know”, you reply. 

Or maybe it was just a farce to keep a certain guy off your mind. 

“You know, you don’t have to force yourself”, your friend reminds you, her palm on your hand comfortingly. “You should be direct with him.” 

You force a smile back to assure her.

“It’s fine. I’m not gonna do anything foolish.” 

You don’t notice the confused expression she’s making at your answer because now you’re thinking if you should just let things unfold naturally. Amidst your pondering, your friend’s elbow nudges you. 

“And he’s looking at you”, she says. Your eyes glance up—and she’s right—your little eye candy has seemed to catch your gaze. He smiles even though he’s on the other side of the room. You give him a small wave and he waves back. Then he gestures for you to go down to the dance floor. You’re wondering if you should too as you watch him leave his booth and down the stairs to the crowded floor. 

Unfortunately, you let the thought sit for a little too long because when you decide to leave the booth to the floor, you’ve lost him. 

Letting the flashing lights and lasers with the decent music from the DJ doesn’t sound like a bad idea. 

Soon enough, your eyes filter through the people and you catch your prey. He seems to be talking to someone but he also seems to have noticed your stare before he fully turns to you. 

But as you’re steadily maneuvering the crowd to reach him, your eyes meet another man’s—sharp and all too familiar—and it seems as though he’s caught you too. 

Your eyes widen and you immediately turn away, fishing your phone from your chest, opening your phone book to speed dial.

You bring your phone up to your ear, turning away from the approaching male deliciously styled in a black fur coat walking towards you, panic obvious in your tone while your friend picks up. You look up at her from the dance floor, eyes wide. 

“Babe, you did not tell me that he was here?!” You whisper-shout. You watch your friend’s face widen her eyes before she shrugs. 

“Who the hell did you think I was referring to just now? I was talking about Choi San!” 

Choi San has had his eyes on you since you settled in your booth. He never thought he would see you out of all the clubs that existed in this town. But despite the slight scowl present on his face when he realises you’re flirting with someone else at the same level booth he is on, there’s a seed of desire that’s lodged in his heart, that maybe he has a chance. 

But first, he has to get rid of your little eye candy. 

San’s eyes trail your movements carefully—from the way you bat your eyelashes at the other male from the other booth, then to the way you stare after him as he walks down to the floor. 

How have you not noticed him yet? 

He stays put on the sofa, silently counting down how much longer it’d take for your eyes to rake over the rest of the booths to reach him. 

Unfortunately, it only leaves him frustrated, and even tenfold when you leave your seat while your eyes search for him on the dance floor. 

Guess he has to do it his way then. 

He pushes past the wave of people, still locked onto you under the dim lights

The satisfaction that floods into his brain when your eyes meet his, his ears slowly tuning out the music, and he watches the way you eyes widen when you finally take notice of him from a distance. 

And then you turn away. San cocks his eyebrow in confusion and irritation, and his footsteps towards you quicken. 

Then he stops in his tracks once more. 

Dear god, something might break today if he gets interrupted one more fucking time. 

Your attention is stolen by your little eye candy. He got to you before San could.

You’re well-aware that you’re being stared down by a certain male from your peripherals, and that certainly wasn’t stopping you from pretending that he’s part of the air molecules, although not the easiest task when he’s boring a hole into your head. 

You look back at your eye candy, plastering a pretty smile. 

The both of you sink into small talk, leaning in closer in an attempt to hear each other over the music. You’re listening to him, but your attention remains on someone else. Someone who’s not hiding that he’s stealing glances at you. 

“Do you wanna go somewhere private?” You hear him ask into your ear. His arm is snaking around your waist, and your interest is waning. 

You’re ready to reject him, and you jolt slightly when you feel a bigger pair of hands slide across your back replacing the unfamiliar warmth. 

“She’s got afterparty plans”, San answers curtly. It’s an automatic response that you swallow hard when let your eyes rake over San. His hair is slicked back, letting a couple strands fall past his eyes. He’s smug with the corner of his lips curled up. Maybe it’s the confidence that you hate about him, but like a moth drawn to a flame, you can’t seem to stay away from him. 

You see the way the male tuts, then force a smile. “No worries. We’ll see each other soon, yeah?” 

You nod, already losing him in the crowd, mostly because Choi San has your full attention. 

Even under the dim lights, Choi San looks stunning. You realise you’re royally fucked when your eyes trail to the star of the show—the fact that San isn’t wearing anything underneath his fur coat. That piece of apparel somehow makes him look bigger, and it’s driving you insane. Well, if the tension escalates, he might get a surprise if you’re feeling generous enough. But right now, he’s eyeing you down like a predator, and it’s making you fall into his spell. 

His arm isn’t leaving your back. He’s leaning in closer, making sure you hear his words loud and clear in your ear. 

“That’s your type?”

You do your best to hide the effects he’s having on you—ignoring heat pooling between your thighs.

Your fingers play with the soft fur as he leans in and waits for your answer. He smells so fucking good. 

You shrug, and that only bubbles his irritation further. His grip on your waist tightens slightly.

“Answer me, darling”, he pushes, his palm sliding lower down. 

“Maybe. We had a nice chat before you cut in. Seemed like a decent person.”

San furrows his eyebrows. 

“What if he’s not a good person? Does that mean any guy that has a nice conversation with you a good person?”

His other arm is snaking around the back of your neck and he definitely feels your goosebumps. He’s forcing you to look at him. 

“San”, you huff, mentally bracing yourself from falling for his charms again. “And on what grounds do you have to be saying all of this?” 

“As your best friend?”

You scoff, with a roll of your eyes. Painful to tear away from his chiseled body just peeking out. 

San can’t seem to pinpoint it—for some reason, the interaction you had with your eye candy pricked him so much. But why? You and he have always been fooling around, leaving feelings at bay so it wouldn’t “complicate things”. But obviously after tonight, something clicked, and San is very sure he doesn’t like you to be around other men that aren’t him. 

“I’m leaving, Choi San. It’s hard to hear you with all these people around”, you make up the excuse, smacking his arm away with much reluctance, only for him to snatch you back once more. San makes sure you hear him loud and fucking clear when he leans into your ears. 

“We should go somewhere private then.”

Your moan in the kiss sets him off. Your hands trail up his bare body, and his hands are on your thighs. 

Fucking you in his car wasn’t San’s preference—he prefers a little more space— but he’s not complaining when he has you slowly unravel right before him, forced to press yourself against him even with the seat reclined and his thick erection is just shameless pressing against your body con dress. 

His fingers slip under your dress, and he groans when he feels your bare pussy—wet, puffy and just ready. 

And for some reason, it pisses him off when thought of your eye candy being the one to discover this instead of him. 

“Just how much of my buttons are you gonna push tonight, princess?” He asks rhetorically, his sharp eyes locked onto yours, trying not to snap from how wet you are.

You steady yourself on his lap, your mind slowly growing blank whenever his thick fingers graze your clit and past your sopping hole. 

“You were just begging to be fucked, huh?” San asks with his fingers circling so close to your pussy. 

“San!-“

“Tell me then: who were you hoping to fuck you stupid tonight?”

Your begs come in the forms of soft whimpers, and a sob rips from you when he plunges two thick fingers in, filling you up so fucking full.

Shit. Shit. Shit. 

His fingers fucking your cunt isn’t helping you think. 

You know there’s no way around this. As much as you hated to admit, San always seemed to have the upper hand. Nonetheless, your unintentional plan had roused a side of him you’ve never seen before. 

“I’m waiting.” 

It takes almost all of your strength to focus on answering him, and it’s making you frustrated because he’s intentionally missing the spot that he knows can send you seeing the stars. 

“You”, you answer meekly.

“Can’t hear you, sweetie.” His fingers press against your g-spot, and you lean closer to his body on reflex, your hands gripping his fur coat. You could just smack the smug look off Choi San if he didn’t have two fingers stuffed in you. 

“You! Oh, fuck-” You cry out when he misses your g-spot on purpose once more. 

“Right answer, sweetie. You deserve a reward for being a good girl, hm?”

You can’t even answer. His thumb is rubbing on your clit, it sends electricity all over in the best way possible on top of his fingers hitting your sweet spots over and over again. The wet sounds of your pussy squelching only bring up the thick tension. 

“Look at you, tightening up like this. Are you gonna cum for me?” His voice drops an octave, lulling you closer to your impending orgasm. You hate the way he knows every nook and cranny of your body as if it’s his. You just really cannot escape him. 

His words continue to edge you closer. 

“Oh, that’s a good fucking girl. Keep squeezing my fingers like that. I’m the only one who makes you feel this fucking tight, right?” 

You fucking hate Choi San. 

Cream seeps past his fingers from your hole when your orgasm brings your vision to white. Your moans fill up the car when it wrecks your body in waves, your nerves flooding with pleasure over and over. 

And San isn’t letting you leave the damn car, not until you’re screaming his name. 

He’s not faring any better himself and he could just get off just by watching you cum all over him like that. 

His fingers leave your soaking cunt, slightly pruning with strings of your cum in between his fingers. While you catch your breath, San forces you to watch him lick his sticky fingers clean while his free hand shifts your fingers to his bulging erection that’s just begging to be let out. He’s grown so fucking hard that you wonder if it hurts. 

You unbutton and unzip his trousers, then push yourself to the side towards the car door to give him enough space so he’s able to fully remove his trousers. You can’t help but worry if the both of you would be caught, even though San assured you that he parked at a secluded spot. Your eyes dart to the windows, noticing how it’s beginning to grow foggy.

Oh. It’s about to get a lot more foggy. 

San’s touch pulls you out of your thoughts. Although you’ve fucked many times, the sheer fucking size of his cock never fails to make you swallow hard. 

Your hands wander up his tits as you settle back down onto his thighs. The realisation hits you then—the only clothing article Choi San has on right now is his fucking fur coat. 

He catches onto your stare and smiles in response. 

“Why? Is the thought of getting fucked by your favourite person wearing a fur coat getting you excited?”

You narrow your eyes at him, and you palm his bare, thick, and sticky cock, making San groan in reply. 

“Favourite? What makes you think you’re my favourite?” 

He chuckles and makes your heart flutter. 

“Many things, sweetheart. Just as you’re mine.”

You’re really gonna end up losing to him, huh? 

You lift your hips instead, lining up to his cockhead, and then letting San guide your hips down his fat cock, making you take him inch by inch. You bite your lip at the feeling of his cock filling you up so disgustingly good, and San has his eyes screwed shut, a strained groan leaving his lips when your warmth envelops him so fucking good. 

“That’s it. You’re so fucking warm and tight for me”, San mutters in pleasure through half-lidded eyes. 

Riding San sometimes feels too much for you, in the best fucking ways possible because he’s all the way in, and he knows that very well—how easily you get sensitive and squirmy just from sitting on his cock. 

You slowly bounce off his cock, grabbing his shoulders for leverage. He likes that you have to lean into him while he fucks you from below so he can whisper the most dirty things into your ear just to make you clench around him.

His palms slide down your ass, following the momentum of you bouncing off his cock, then landing a tight slap against your skin to hear your gasp and feel you tighten on his cock. 

The sting feels so fucking good that another slap has your pussy leaking cream all over his cock once more. 

“S-San! If you keep doing that-“ you cry, another slap to your ass making you jolt, sinking even deeper into his cock. 

“That’s your punishment for flirting with another man in front of me like that”, his voice buzzing in your ear. 

Another smack. 

Your thighs are trembling from the overstimulation. 

One more smack. 

Your mind is about to shut off. San’s cock is pressing against your g-spot with even more pressure than his fingers. 

The windows have completely fogged up.

“San, please. Oh my fucking god. Gonna fucking cum”, you whine, arms tight around his neck, intoxicated with the smell of his musk mixed with his cologne. 

San’s grunts fill your ears when your second orgasm drowns you again, your cunt pulsing uncontrollably around him, cream just pooling at the base of his cock. He groans and buries his nose into your neck, his mind fuzzy from how close his orgasm is. 

“I’m gonna cum in you. Wanna plug your pussy hole full of my cum. 

And you’re gonna take all of it like a good girl.”

“Yes, please”, you reply, much to his pleasant surprise. So his large hands hold your legs down, listening to you whine while his cock fills you up endlessly with warm and thick cum with moans escaping his lips every few seconds from how fucking good he feels. 

He pushes you off his body gently, his eyes reflecting the hearts in your glazed-out eyes. His thumb brushes against the corner of your lips and he pushes his thumb past your lips. 

“Such a good fucking girl, letting me fill you up with my load. Does it feel good?”

You nod, twitching slightly from the overstimulation since he still has you stuffed full of both dick and cum. San wants to keep this sight of you in his brain forever—sucking on his finger, sweating with him post-orgasm, staring down at him with watery eyes while his cum just leaks past your puffy pussy hole even though his cock is plugging your cunt. 

San pulls you into a deep kiss, and you reciprocate it in between breathless pants and sighs. 

“Fuck. I think I’m in love”, he mutters loud enough for you to hear. 

You don’t know how to answer to that, but you feel your face flushing. He grabs the tissues stowed in the storage compartment and quickly cleans the both of you up after he lifts you off his softening cock. 

You instinctively shift to the passenger seat, and San removes his fur coat to cover you. You watch him grab a black tank top from the back seat, then fit his trousers over his thighs. 

He rolls down the windows despite the air-con running, just to rid the smell of sex.

You wrap his coat closer to you when the night breeze kisses your cheeks. 

“So, are you gonna send me home?” There’s a strange tint of hope you have that he’d decline. 

San stares at you with an expression that confuses you—one that makes you wonder if you had said something weird. Then he smiles after that. 

“You’re coming home with me, sweetheart”, San tells you as he loops his tank top over his head before he switches gear to move out. 

“It’s gonna be a long night for the both of us.” 

taglist:

@bro-atz @skteezcursed @diamond-3 @mcarebearsstuff @choisansplushie  @pre1ttyies @hwallazia @songmingisthighs @yeosangiess @mylovelymito @softwsan @yourlocaljonghoe @itza-meee @ywtf  @jeon-ify @miss-fallon @bunnyluvr25 @eggyboy5 @hourswithoutyou @iwishiwasthemoontonight @haleyjoy @yunhogrippers @watermelon2319 @kibs-and-bits @s-h-y-a @luvt0kki @httpseungmxn @vic0921 @sanhwajoong @bitejoongie @no1likevie @jwnghyuns @everythingboutkpop @skz1-4-3 @minalizasworld @seomisaho @tunafishyfishylike @woojirang @yuyusgirl

[satorusugurugurl]

Weak Spot

Summary: Cuddling on the couch leads to a fascinating discovery.

Pairing: Choso Kamo, Gojo Satoru, Ryomen Sukuna (Modern AU), Nanami Kento, Geto Suguru, Fushiguro Toji, FAB!Reader

Word Count: 4,141

Warning: horny reader, whimpers, moans, trying to stay quiet, accidental orgasms, tickling, roughhousing, foot massages, foot play if you squint?? Hair pulling, public smexy stuff, hugging, of weak spots

A/N: Just a quick series of blurbs with JJK men finding your weak spots thank you for all of your suggestions!!

**MDNI!!**

Choso Kamo:

The evening you had started as a quiet one. You and Chosi sat on your couch watching some rom-com you had picked out. You’re fully invested in the film, lying on your side munching away at popcorn as Choso lies behind you, his arms wrapped around your waist. His eyes are heavy, and he drops his head to your shoulder with a tired hum.

There was nothing out of the ordinary when he did that. Resting your chins on each other's shoulders was something both of you often did—sort of a silent way of expressing the love the two of you shared. But, the second Choso rubs his chin over the spot where your shoulder meets your neck, you cry out, covering your mouth.

At first, your boyfriend freezes up, eyes widening at the sound leaving your lips. For a moment, Choso thought that maybe he had hurt you, but as he felt your trembling against him, he knew that’s not the case. You moaned so loud like you did when he would fuck you. That reaction made him move his chin harder over the same spot. The moan that leaves your mouth has his cock twitching in his pants as your body rocks back.

“C-Cho—w-waah!” He rubs harder, his large hands leaving your waist to cup your breasts gently. “Ah—fuck, nnngh.” The way your body jerks as if you’re trying to escape his grasp has him groping you harder, pulling your back into his chest. “Choso, h-hold on a second baby.”

“I found it.” His gruff voice whispers over your neck, causing goose flesh to rise over your arms. “Found your weak spot.”

“B-Babe—ah~ wait~!” Your boyfriend's hands grope your hips, his chin digging into your sweet spot as his hips rut against your ass. “C-Cho-Choso.”

Your boyfriend hums in approval. Hearing you get off without him even touching you between the legs fills him with a certain sense of pride. The strange new feeling has him rubbing circles into your sweet spot with the tip of his chin. The pressure, gentle rubbing, and the feeling of his hot breath against your skin have you pressing your thighs together.

You were crying out softly, whimpering into the back of your hand. The sensations and stimulation to your neck had a pleasure twisting in your lower abdomen, your underwear soaked. All of it felt so good, but it wasn’t enough to send you over the edge just yet; it was the feeling of Choso’s hardening erection that had you teetering on the edge like you were a tightrope walker.

“Haaah~ oh fuck.”

Chiso chuckled deeply, “Yeah, you want more.” He digs his chin into that spot on your neck, and you can even form words.

“Ngggh! Hah! Fuck~ c-cumming—c-cumm—” One of your hands reached back, turning at his dark locks of hair, while the other clawed at the cushion of the couch as your orgasm hit you.

Your boyfriend opens his mouth to speak but can’t even begin to find the words to say. His focus is drawn to you. You’re shaking; legs pressed firmly together as you tug a bit harder on his hair with each wave of the orgasm you ride.

“O-Oh fuck,” you whine, feeling his breathing heavily, “I-I can’t believe I just—nngh!” Yours flipped so your face is pushed against the sofa, and Choso is scrambling behind your, yanking your sweats down as you feel his hard cock rutting over the curve of your ass.

“So hot; need to feel you do that again, but this time on my cock, okay?” His voice is desperate, shaking, and full of horny desire. “Is that okay, honey?”

“More than okay; give it to me, Cho~!”

Gojo Satoru:

A black blindfold flew past your head as you squeaked, turning the corner into the living room. “I-I said I was sorry!” You squealed happily as your boyfriend followed close behind. “I didn’t know you were ticklish on your ribs! I swear! I promise!!” You don’t even come close to meeting the front door as you’re gently tackled to the soft rug.

“That’s the last time I ever let my infinity down around you!” He playfully growls as he crawls on top of you, fingers wiggling around your face. “In the meantime. I do believe some form of payback is due!”

You can’t protest because his fingers are tickling your sides. “Ah! No! Hahah!” You scream, kicking your legs out as you’re trying to strip his hands from tickling against your rib cage. Every attempt you make to stop him is thwarted as it easily evades your grasp.

Long fingers that you usually love, we’re now you’re the mortal enemy. They move against your cage, tickling every spot that you weren’t sure if Gojo assumed they were or if the bastard was using Six-Eyes to his advantage. Because each time his fingers grazed over your rib cage, which also happened to be your weak spot, you squirmed underneath your boyfriend. You tried to hide the moans with laughter; it was useless because, despite desperately trying to hide them, your squirming legs were all Satoru needed to see.

He kept his fingers moving, tickling you faster, smirking as you bit down on your bottom lip. “Mmmnngh!” your friend is trying to free himself. “Satoru! Stop! Please!” you cried out in between laughs and moans.

“Why?” he cooed with a smirk, “Why do you want me to stop, sweetheart?”

“B-Be—aha!” Your back arched as your mouth dropped. “I-I ah!”

“Is it because you're getting all hot and bothered?”

“No!”

“You’re a liar~”

“Mmmm fuck! Ooooh fuck!” Your chest heaved as you shook underneath him, his hips slotting between yours as the smell of musk and clean linen invaded your senses, making you feel high. Off of the pleasure, the tension, everything just seemed to enhance the pleasure that was pulsating in your pussy. “Fuck!”

“Hehe! Someone’s gettin’ all wet and turned on~!”

“T-Toru!”

“Yeah~? Want me to fu—”

“C-Cumming!”

Your body arched, shaking as your friend clamped your thighs together, but Satoru’s body stopped you from doing so. Just allowing you to kick your legs out, toes curling as you cummed hard. Satoru’s face turned a bright red as he pulled his hands away from your ribs. You lay there on the ground panting heavily, covering your eyes with your forearm, the shame of what just happened fostered inside your chest.

Satoru was silent for the longest moment, his eyes meeting yours as he sputtered and blinked, a trickle of blood running from his nose. “D-Did you just cum?” you could only groan, nodding once.

“T-Tickling my ribs, I-it’s my weak spot ass.”

“O-Oh—” you both sat in silence, “uhm sweetie.”

“Huh?” you pulled your arm away, “what?”

Satoru started tugging your leggings down, panting like a feral animal. “Let me tickle you again with my cock inside of you!” you squeaked as he pounced on you grinding his hips against yours. That night, you both learned that Satoru had a bit of a tickling kink and that you were happy to serve him.

Ryomen Sukuna (Modern AU):

“Are you sure about this?” your boyfriend asked gently as he took a marker and marked where your cartilage piercing was going to go.“You're okay with me piercing you?”

“You were perfectly fine piercing me last night.” you waggle your eyebrows at him before taking your bottom lip between your teeth as he deadpans.

“That was with my cock, this is a big ass needle that’s gonna be stabbed through your fucking ear.” He gently holds your earlobe, giving it a gentle tug. “Dor—”

“Mmm!” Your eyes go wide as your hands fly up to cover your mouth. Your earlobe is being held between Sukuna’s thumb and index finger. His eyes are slightly wide as he stares at your ear in stunned silence.

Crimson eyes search your face as if looking for the answer as to why you made such a sexual noise over him, touching your ear. But you don’t say anything, your eyes darting around his workspace at the tattoo shop. Slightly annoyed by your lack of attention, focused on him. Your boyfriend narrows his eyes before giving your earlobe another sharp tug.

“Nnngh!!” you moan into the palms of your hands, trying to silence the noise that threatens to escape.

Noticing that your eyes are still averted from his, Sukuna gently runs his fingers up your ear, caressing it slowly and sensually, as if it was your pussy that he teased and edged the night before. With each stroke of his black, gloved finger, you twitch and turn against his chair, your hands clamping down harder over your mouth.

Your boyfriend stands up, crawling up onto the chair with you, his leg strategically placed on either side of your hips, trapping you underneath the large frame of his body. His eyes darken with lust as he rubs his finger back down to your earlobe slowly back up. The way you arched slightly against the covered black chair had his cock tightening in his pants; his breathing was heavy as he pulled his hand away.

“Fuck,” you gently whisper into the room, finally removing your hands. “Kuna, uhm may—e-eegh!” you get your teeth as your boyfriend leans his tattooed face down, blowing against your sensitive earlobe. The sensation has your eyes rolling back as you moan loudly, not even trying to muffle the sounds. “K-Kuna!” His left gloved hand shoots up, covering your mouth as he takes your earlobe between his teeth, gently nibbling on it.

Your eyes are all back as you buck your hips upward, searching for something to grind yourself on as pleasure explodes within your abdomen. You’ve always had sensitive ears, but none of your partners in the past have ever played with them before. So for Sukuna to not only massage the sensitive flesh but also take it between his teeth and gently suck on it, you were shocked to be getting off on it.

Here you were, having your boyfriend suckle and nip at your ear as his hand kept clamped over your mouth. Your hands shot up, gripping his black tank top, holding onto the fabric as pleasure rocks through every nerve of your body. A familiar coil tightened in your stomach, and for a second, you panicked before you realized this man, the man that you were falling in love with, was about to make you cum from playing with your ears.

All it takes is a nibble on the sensitive skin, and your eyes are wide as you rock shamelessly into the air. Your orgasm hits you fast and hard, giving you heart palpitations as you grip Sukuna tighter, holding onto him for dear life as you cum in the tattoo shop he works at. Your boyfriend sucks and gently nibbles at your skin. His hand was still firmly against your mouth, silencing the moans and whines threatening to alert his coworkers about what you were up to.

Your boyfriend only removes his hand from your mouth as you gently release your grip on his tank top. Pulling his gloved hand back, he stares down, panting heavily like some rabid animal. The way your breast moves up and down as you gasp for air, basking in the afterglow of your orgasm, has him moving before you even think. You follow him with hazy eyes, watching as he rips the gloves off his hands, tossing them in the trash before he locks the door to his office.

“Take off your pants,” he grunts as he undoes the buckle to his belt. “I’m going to fuck you, and then I’m going to pierce both of your ears. And once they’re healed.” He sticks his tongue out, revealing his piercing that glimmers in the lights above. “ I’m gonna run my piercing up and down the sensitive studs that I’m going to put in your ears myself.”

Nanami Kento:

“Oooh, my god, my feet are killing me,” you mutter as you lie on the couch, and your husband sits down next to you, taking your feet gently and placing them in his lap. “Whoever invented high heels needs to be sent to hell.”

Nanami chuckles at his hands, gently moving to massage her clean feet. Both of you had just gotten out of showers and settled onto the couch for a quiet evening after nonstop meetings at the high school. Hair is brushed back, still damp, as his thumbs gently move up and down your feet, causing you to tell your head back and moan.

“Does that feel good?” he gently asked, increasing the pressure against the sole of your foot. You respond with another moan. I suppose I’ll take that as a yes.”

You lay your head back against the throw pillows, losing yourself in your husband’s gentle caresses as he works out the nuts and the sore tendons of your feet. It feels so sinfully good that it has you gently squirming against the couch. But when he gently runs his well-trimmed nails up, scratching the bottom of your foot, you moan. Not in satisfaction of the relief that his fingers bring, but one that is full of sexual desire.

Your hand stops just above the pad of your foot as his eyes slowly turn towards you. Both of you stare at one another in shock. That had never happened before. Nanami had given you plenty of massages in the past, so why was this one different?

“D-Did that hurt?” Kento asks. As he gently begins, he rubs your foot again.

“N-No, it just felt good.”

“Like this?” he continues to need your foot using his thumbs. But you don’t have the same reaction you did before. “Or this?” The second he’s dragging his nails from the tip of your toe down to your heel, pleasure erupts from you. “Oh, that was it.”

“O-Oh, my god!” He does it again and again and again. “K-Kento! Fuck!”

Honey brown eyes, watch as your toes curl with each scratch of his nail. “Huh~ I knew your neck was sensitiv., but this is something I’ve never seen before.” his scratches increase in speed, and his eyes are transfixed on your face, watching as you pant and moan, your back arching as you throw your head back. “If I didn’t know any better, I would assume that you’re about to have an orgasm.”

“Fuuuck~ fuck fuck~ Keeento!” You grab onto the sofa, back arching higher as your pussy begins to pulsate as intense pleasure reaches its peak. “Oh my god! Oooh, my fucking god!!” you scream out loud as you cum hard. You're shaking as you try, pulling your feet out of your husband’s lap only to have him pull them back, his nails scratching harder against the soles of your feet, extending your orgasm and making it all the more intense.

You don’t even have a chance to recover from your surprise orgasm when your husband is pulling you into his lap, making you straddle the hard bulge in his pajama pants. He grabs both sides of your hips and rocks you gently back and forth over his erection. His breath is hot against your mouth before he slams his lips against yours. His tongue doesn’t even ask for permission before sliding it into your mouth. It wraps around your tongue, and the lingering taste of white wine and chocolate dances over your taste buds, making your hips faster against Kento’s.

Your quiet evening wasn't as peaceful as you both had anticipated. But it was an evening that all massages were purely orgasmic.

Geto Suguru:

“Ya’ know, when you texted me at 10:20 at night asking me to come over, I didn’t think it was for this reason.” Suguru chuckles from behind you, twisting different strands of your hair in his hands. “But practicing braiding hair for the girls is kind of hot.”

“The girls have been begging me to do a different hairstyle. I could practice on myself, but it’s easier this way.” His words trail off, and you can’t help but smile at him in the mirror.

“Ah~ you just wanted to see me~!” Suguru’s tanned skin slightly flushed as he pouted. “Oooh baby, it’s okay~!”

“Alright l, alright, that’s enough out of you.” He grumbled, giving one of the sections a harsh tug.

You inhaled sharply, the sound choking out with a moan. Suguru winced, looking into the mirror before you to whisper a rushed apology until he saw the look on your face. Your cheeks were flushed, eyes half-lidded as your hand was over your mouth. Geto stared down at you, eyes wide, as your whole body trembled.

“Did you just moan?”

“N-Nuh-uh-haaaah!” You yelped out a louder moan as Suguru tugged your hair again, harder this time. “Nnngh, oooh god.”

“You did!” He released the three sections of hair before running his fingers through the strands of your hair, gently caressing the crown of your head. You thought you were in the clear, but just as you were about to breathe out in relief, your boyfriend grabbed a handful of your hair, tugging it sharply. That breath of relief turned into a moan so sensual, so pornographic, Suguru tugged again.

“H-Haaah Suguru p-please!” You mewled as you gripped the bathroom sink, “I-I—fuck!”

Your eyes were watching him in the mirror, a sinister smirk on his lips as his eyes trailed up and down your back. Watching how your muscles tensed up with every tug, how goosebumps rose against your skin. Suguru was getting off on the fact you were squirming just like you did when his cock was buried deep inside of you.

“Fuccck, you’re so goddamn fuckin hot!” His hand tugged a handful of hair harder and harder. “You look like you’re in such a euphoric state. Are you seriously getting off on this?”

“I-I—fuck! Fuck fuck fuck.” Your nails scratched over the marble counter as Suguru pulled you up by your hair, bent you over the counter, and his fingers massaged your scalp. “S-Sugu-Suguru~!” You cried out as he pulled your hair back, smirking at you in the mirror.

“Look at yourself, Princess~ look at how turned on you are over me just playing with your hair.” His hot breath blew against your ear. “This is good to know for when I fuck you from behind, yeah? Is your pussy clamping down each time I tug?”

“F-Fuck! Fuuuck!” you grip the edge of the sink harder, your body shaking as your toes curl. “Sugu~!”

“If you beg, I’ll give you what you want.”

“N-No, Sugu, wait pl—”

“Wait~? You don’t want me to fuck you.” A final sharp tug was the last straw. You moaned loudly, eyes shut tight as you creamed your panties. You whispered and whined as you convulsed against the counter. Suguru stood behind you, biting his lip as he watched you unravel from something minuscule.

It was only when your body stopped shaking that Suguru released his grip on your hair. He was beginning to pull down his sweats when you were around, grabbing a handful of his dark, luscious locks and giving it a sharp tug. Suguru let out a moan that was just as pornographic as yours had been as you pulled him down to your height, glaring into his eyes.

“I-If you don’t fuck me right now, I’m gonna tug your hair until you cum in your pants.”

As tempting as your threat was, Suguru would rather not cum in his sweats like a teenager. Instead, he grabbed your hips, whirling you back towards the mirror, and tugged your sweats down along with his own. “Yes, my Princess, as you wish.”

Toji Fushiguro:

You never thought domestic life would be for you in all your years. But when you met Toji, your views changed. Your boyfriend was a single father, and you were absolutely smitten by him. Toji was a bit brash and liked to gamble, but he was incredibly smart and spoiled you rotten. So you had no problem cooking dinner and helping around the house with his help. The longer you were with him, the more you loved it.

The three of you were a family.

Standing in the kitchen, cooking dinner for the three of you had become a nightly routine you adored. You were standing over the kitchen sink, washing the dishes you had soaked for a bit. You had time to kill, seeing that Megumi was finishing up a play date with his friend Yuuji. Yuuji’s dad would walk them home in about an hour and give them more than enough time to prepare dinner and clean the kitchen.

Just as you were finishing the dishes in the sink, large buff arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you firmly against a broad chest; the intoxicating smell of amber and driftwood wafted over Toji, buried his face and your neck. It was such a domestic gesture, and it had you weak in the knees.

“Fuck that food smells so good.” He grumbled, hugging you a bit tighter, stealing your breath away. “God, I’m so lucky to have you.” Toji groaned into your ear as he lightened his grip on you before squeezing you again.

The feeling of him robbing himself so tightly around you wasn’t at all painful. Instead, it was the exact opposite. You felt your body burning as he squeezed you tight before releasing you again. The smell of him, the feeling of his arms so muscular wrapped around you, and the slight oxygen deprivation always got you going. It was usually all of those factors individually. But to have them all happen simultaneously while he hugged you so tight, oh God, it got your blood boiling.

“You look so damn cute, too~” You whined in response, lifting a hand, your mouth covering it. “Say, if I bought you a cute little apron, would you wear it for me? Just the apron?” Another squeeze of his big arms had you moaning louder. “Oh, someone likes that idea, don’t they?”

When all you can do is whimper in response, Toji knows there’s more to your arousal than just the prospect of being his little housewife that has you squirming, how your breathing becomes more profound and shallow. It wasn’t just the idea of wearing an apron for him. It was because he had his arms wrapped around you; he pressed you back against his chest while he squeezed and released, constricting his arms around you.

“F-Fuck! Toji, oh God!” You rocked your hips back against his crotch, trying to release some of the building tension in your body. “Fuuuck~!”

Toji smirked, hugging you tighter. “What a kinky little girlfriend I have.” he ran his tongue over his top lip before hugging you even tighter as your body trembled. “Getting off from a hug~ good to know~!” Your boyfriend hugs you again. This time, you gripped the edge of the sink as you tried to warn him. But there was no way you were getting any words out from the pleasure that was rushing. “What ya’ gonna cum~? You’re shaking like you do right before you cum in my mouth.” You somehow managed to nod your head.

“G-Gonna~ gonna!”

“Go on then~ make a mess~”

With one final squeeze, your cummed with a shuttering gasp as your body shook and twitched against him. Your legs clamped tight together as Toji held you as tight as he could against him. His breathing was as ragged as yours as he took in your post-orgasmic appearance. Heavy breathing, flush cheeks, the way sweat beaded at your forehead from the intensity of the pleasure. Seeing you in such a state had him going feral.

“Fuck!” Toji picks you up, pressing you against the refrigerator, your skirt up, tugging your underwear. “We got about l thirty minutes before Meg’s gets home. In those next thirty minutes, I’m gonna make sure to hug you nice and tight, and in exchange, you make sure to hug my cock just tight with your pussy.” He growled into your ear; it was so raw and full of need that you took your bottom lip between your teeth and giggled. You might enjoy being his living girlfriend, but he was just as smitten with you as you were with him.

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks

[wh0reforcoriolanussnow]

HEAR ME OUT!! ollie thinking felix is single right, hanging out at oxford and everything and then one night felix is nowhere to be seen and he finds him with a girl. turns out feliz is vv much not single but ollie knows her as the smart girl of the school so he's shocked by the pairing?!?!?!

Who would've thought? || Felix Catton x reader

A/n: I actually hate how I did this but oh well, also, my first felix catton fic did so well so quickly!!!! so happy you guys enjoyed it :)

Warnings: swearing, mentions of sex, drinking, idk rlly im so bad w my warnings 😭

Wc: 764

Felix Catton Masterlist

"Gorgeous, isn't he?" Your voice causes Oliver to flinch as he whips his head to where the sound of your voice came from. "W-what-" He stammers. You giggle at his behaviour, taking a long drag from the cigarette before dropping it to the ground and stepping on it.

"I see the way you stare at him, Ollie. I don't blame you though, he's a sight for sore eyes," You sigh, leaning your head against the wall, watching Felix with his friends.

Oliver didn't know what to say. He only stared at you before gravitating his gaze back to Felix. Oliver knew you as one of the smartest girls at school, your grades rivalling with his.

"You can admit it. He's gorgeous." You open your mouth again, turning your head at Oliver with a grin. He gulps. "I-uhm-" He began before you interrupt him, "Come on, Ollie" Your tone was playful.

"He's gorgeous." Oliver quickly replied as you smile. You push yourself off the wall, patting Ollie's shoulder before leaving him standing there dumbfounded.

~

"Fuck!" You curse as you feel the hot liquid cascade down your front. You let out a loud groan, throwing your coffee cup in a nearby bin. "I'm so sorry-" "It's fine! Completely fine," You mutter to the idiot who bumped into you because his eyes was trained on a book.

You let out a deep sigh, checking your watch. You would be late if you turned back around to change. "Hey! Y/n!" You hear a voice call out from behind you. Turning your head you spot Oliver coming your way on his bike.

“Hey?” you greet him with a hint of confusion. Without a word, he unzips his backpack, pulling out a plaid shirt. “Wear this to cover the spill,” he suggests, a warm smile accompanying the gesture. You conceal any distaste with a subtle expression, graciously accepting the offered shirt.

“Uhm-” “Just return it later when you can,” he cuts you off, not giving you time to answer before riding off. You stand there, looking down at the plaid shirt, before letting out a sigh and slipping it on.

“Cute shirt, babe,” your boyfriend chuckles, and you respond with an eye roll, sitting down with a loud huff escaping your lips. “Don’t even. Some idiot bumped into me on the way here,” you mutter, opening your notebook aggressively.

Farleigh strolls in, joining the two of you, “Woah, loving the shirt, y/n. Where’d you get it from? The charity shop?” He jokes, prompting you to scowl at him. He raises his hands in surrender as Felix’s chuckles resonate beside you.

“Jesus, what’s got your panties tied up in a knot?” he laughs, taking a seat beside you while you choose to ignore him. Suddenly, Felix exclaims, “Oh, shit! Farleigh, we gotta go. Professor Davies wants to see us,” checking his watch before swiftly getting up.

Farleigh vents his frustration with a groan, “Sorry, babe. See you later?” Felix plants a kiss on your cheek, and you nod in response, waving the two boys off before redirecting your focus to the notebook in front of you.

“Hey,” you raise your head to find Oliver approaching. Flashing a warm smile, you greet him with a friendly, “Hi Oliver,” your attention briefly returning to your book as he stands there, exuding a hint of awkwardness.

“I’ll make sure to return your shirt once it’s washed,” you reassure him, receiving a silent nod in acknowledgment. Returning to your book, you shift your attention back to him, “Is there anything else you need?” He nervously scratches his neck. “Do you mind if I study with you?” His question catches you slightly off-guard.

“Absolutely, feel free,” you graciously respond, rearranging your belongings to create space for him to settle. A warm smile graces his face as he takes the offered seat, expressing gratitude with a simple “Thanks.” You reciprocate with a light chuckle, assuring him, “No problem at all.”

~

“He is such a nerd,” Farleigh snorts as you roll your eyes, your fingers moving to play with Felix’s necklace around his neck. Noticing your quietness, Felix looks at you on his lap. “You okay?” He says quietly as you hum, taking a sip out of his glass, before pressing your cheek against his, your eyes wandering around the table.

“I should probably go now, I don’t wanna study too late,” You let out a quiet sigh as you get up from your boyfriend’s lap. Felix lends a helping hand to adjust your skirt, smoothly guiding the denim down while playfully patting your ass, accompanied by a mischievous grin.

“Where are you going? It’s still so early!” Annabel shoots you a disapproving frown from across the table. “I really need to study for that test tomorrow,” you respond, the playful boos from others resonating as you playfully roll your eyes.

“Listen, I’ll buy the next round yeah?” Your offer is met with enthusiastic hoots as you chuckle. Rounds tend to be costly, especially with our group, but being part of a wealthy family, the expense doesn’t faze you.

Felix joins you in fetching the drinks before you wave at your group and make your exit. Outside, the cool night air embraces you as you walk down the stairs, and a twinge of regret sets in over your choice of attire.

Lost in thought, you accidentally collide with someone. Looking up, you find yourself face to face with Oliver, whose initial surprise transforms into recognition. “Oh, Oliver, hey,” you manage a smile, and he reciprocates it warmly.

“Hey. You headin’ back?” He gestures behind him with his thumb, and you nod, “Yeah, studying for that test we have tomorrow morning.” A chuckle escapes you as he nods, an awkward silence settling between the two of you.

“Is it, uh, busy in there?” Oliver speaks up. “Hm? Oh. Uhm, no, not really,” you shake your head. Another moment of silence follows. “Listen, Ollie, I should really get going,” you purse your lips as he moves aside. “Yeah, of course,” he offers you a warm smile, and you nod your head, walking away.

~

Over the course of the next couple days. Felix and Oliver had become very good friends. You would hear Felix’s recounts of his day when the two of you were entangled in each others arms and it always included Oliver.

The party rolled around and you found yourself dancing with Felix, your ass on his crotch as the two of you seamlessly moved to Sexyback.

With one hand cradling a red plastic cup filled with alcohol, and the other clasping a partially smoked cigarette, Felix guided your hips skillfully, his touch resting casually on your hipbone.

“You look so fuckin’ hot,” Felix exclaimed loudly over the music as you smirk to yourself, already abit tipsy. “Do you wanna go somewhere?” You reply back to him, turning around as he eagerly nods.

You giggle to yourself, knowing what the rest of the night would consist of. Fucking Felix. You stumbled as Felix pulled you along the house. “Fuck, these heels,” You moan in annoyance.

Eager to reach his dorm quicjly, Felix scooped you up in a bridal carry, one arm under your knees and the other supporting your back. A light squeal escaped you, drawing the attention of those around, their curious stares following the two of you.

The second he shut the door behind him, your clothes littered his room as he ravenously attacked your lips, his hands roaming around your body as you let out quiet moans, enjoying the way they groped every inch of your body.

Meanwhile, Oliver was roaming around the party, completely and utterly bored. He first wandered around looking for someone he knew, but that was only three people. You, Felix, and Michael. Michael wouldn’t even be there, so just you or Felix.

Acknowledging the fact that neither you or Felix were here, Oliver’s gaze fell on Farleigh at the other end of the room. With a joint in hand, reclining on the couch, Oliver decided to test his luck and headed in Farleigh’s direction.

“Do you know where Felix is?” Farleigh looks Oliver up and down before raising an eyebrow at him. “Why do you wanna know?” His tone was flat, bored from talking with Oliver already.

“Just wonderin’,” Oliver shrugged awkwardly. Farleigh, taking a long drag, nonchalantly answered, “He went back to his dorm, I think,” his tone uninterested as he flicked ash from his joint.

“Thanks,” Oliver nods his head before turning around. The walk to Felix’s dorm was all too familiar for him, often spending time there whenever he and Felix hung out.

He knocks on the door. No response. He knocked again. Still no response. Oliver then tried the door handle, twisting it only to find it unlocked. Opening the door with a loud creak as his eyes look around the dimly lit interior of Felix’s room.

“Felix-“ Oliver cuts himself off as he realises what he just walked in on. A feminine gasp reached his ears as he instinctively tried to avert his gaze. “For fuck’s sake, mate!” Felix’s irritated voice resonated, accompanied by the rustling of sheets in the room.

Felix quickly moves to cover the both of you as you screw your eyes shut. “Can’t you fuckin’ knock Ollie?” Felix exasperates as he slips on his boxers, his frame still covering you from Ollie’s eyes.

"Sorry, the door was unlocked, so I thought-" Oliver began, but Felix cut him off, "Yeah, well, you thought wrong," accompanied by an annoyed chuckle. You reached for Felix's shirt, slipping it on as you sat on the bed.

Oliver couldn't help but feel a twinge of curiosity at who Felix was fucking; there was no denying it. It couldn’t have been Annabel or India—two girls he's often heard talking about Felix as if they were together—both of them were at the party when he left. So who was it? “Seriously mate. If I don’t answer, I’m either not here or don’t want to answer,” Felix runs his hands through his hair.

He was very bothered that he was interrupted. Felix hated being interrupted in the middle of things. Especially sex with you. “Felix, it’s okay,” You rest your hand on his shoulder as he looks back at you.

Oliver's jaw hung open, frozen in a momentary state of shock, as your head playfully emerged beside Felix. His eyes widened as he tried to process the unexpected sight before him. A cascade of questions flooded his mind, evident in the incredulous expression on his face. "Hi, Ollie," you greeted with a light chuckle, amusement dancing in your eyes as you observed his stunned reaction.

The air seemed charged with a mixture of surprise and curiosity as Oliver stammered through his words, attempting to articulate the myriad of questions racing through his mind. "I- What- Are you two-" he fumbled, his sentences colliding in his attempt to understand the situation unfolding before him.

Felix, ever nonchalant, cut through the awkward tension with a matter-of-fact tone. "She's my girlfriend," he stated, his words hanging in the air. As if to emphasize the point, you casually moved to sit on Felix's lap.

A moment of stunned silence enveloped Oliver. Felix had a girlfriend, and it was you. The revelation hit him with unexpected force, leaving him momentarily breathless. Questions swirled in his mind, and he couldn't comprehend why no one had ever mentioned it before.

"Why do you look so shocked, Ollie?" Felix chuckled, a lighthearted tone in his voice, while you added to the teasing atmosphere with a playful giggle. You could practically sense Oliver's head spinning with the unasked questions, creating an intriguing air of mystery around the situation.

Oliver's eyebrows furrowed slightly, his expression a mix of confusion and surprise as he processed the unexpected pairing. He released a nonchalant shrug, attempting to mask the internal whirlwind of thoughts.

"No one’s ever said anything about it, I just assumed you both were single," he admitted, his eyes fixed on you and Felix. Oliver's head continued to shake in a subtle attempt to grasp the reality of you being in a relationship with Felix.

A faint smile played on your lips as you tilted your head at him, a touch of amusement in your gaze. "You never asked," you pointed out casually, your words hanging in the air. Oliver's lips formed a perfect 'O' as he absorbed the implication, silently nodding in acknowledgment.

The room was then engulfed in an awkward silence, the weight of unspoken words lingering in the atmosphere. Sensing the discomfort, Oliver took the initiative to break the tension. "Uhm, I should get going," he announced, his hand absently scratching the back of his head. Felix, understanding the unspoken cue, nodded in agreement. "Yeah, go ahead."

Oliver's lips pursed, his gaze flickering between you and Felix, caught in a moment of realization. With a slightly awkward smile, you innocently waved at him. "Bye, Ollie!" you chimed in a light-hearted manner, attempting to alleviate the awkwardness as he leaves the dorm.

Felix couldn't hide his amusement. "You really didn't tell him?" he asked, breaking the silence with a playful smile as he looked down at you. In response, you innocently shrugged. "I didn't think it was that necessary to bring it up, besides, he really never asked."

[aouiaa]

oneshot preview

𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐘𝐎𝐍𝐄’𝐒

❝ A WAVE OF EMOTION ❞

NOT JUST ANYONE’S, never truly understanding why your boss, dr. abigail “abby” anderson, harbors such animosity towards you. that is, until a moment initiated by the arrival of a newcomer to the team inadvertently triggers suppressed emotions to surface, revealing her true feelings.

FEATURING doctor!abby anderson x nurse!reader

THE ONESHOT CONTAINS (enemies to lovers), porn w plot (yay), a word count of 15k+, wlw content, mean!abby, jealous/delusional!abby, mentions of reader’s hair, abby being a book wormy, abby describes the reader as a goddess (once), fluff, angst, different povs, bullying, light workplace mistreatment, SEXUAL CONTENT, mean/softdom!abby, sub!reader, semi-public sex (hospital’s office), panties stealing, spanking, cunnilingus, fingering, hair pulling, masturbation, usage of a vibrator (once), scissoring, squirting, nipple play, degradation, body workship/praising, overstimulation, usage of pet names (baby, babe, pretty girl, good girl, dirty girl), cum eating, mutiple orgasms, DARK CONTENT, stalking, act of stealing narcotics, cursing, jealousy, alcohol/drug consumption, mentions of inflicting harm on others, acts of frame-up, (none of the content shown here is encouraged to be done irl and the photo below are for aesthetic purposes)

❝ CRASHING ONTO YOU AND I ❞