#whatever. hater moment over

[theophagie]

Being a stolitz blended family hater *Jesus on the cross.jpeg*

[gasterofficial]

um no offense but while we are romanticizing being freaks (cool and good) could we maybe not do that with incest and pedophilia maybe ^_^

[lavellane]

can i say something. can i be mean.

they did not need to hire matt fucking mercer to play manfred lol

[eachlanguagewritten]

hi hello this is not a "you're not allowed to" post because I don't vibe with that but this is a heads up post as I've seen a few people playing with it and it definitely has snowball potential and it's suuuuuper easy to miss so: INZOI's processing method involves a lot of AI generation for its fabric textures and generation of items in its character creator and gameplay. again it's suuuper easy to skim right over this fact, and I'm not saying all AI is bad, but I currently cannot find any information on how they trained this AI. as such, i'm currently erring on the side of "it was probably scraped without acknowledgement or compensation" as it's generally the safer assumption these days.

again- this is not a no fun allowed post and i can definitely see the appeal in the demo (if you can get it to run, gosh that thing's a beast in terms of hardware usage), but i dunno i just felt like they kind of whispered the part that someone should point at out loud so i'm doing that. that's all! have a good day rpc ♥

[grimmshood]

seeing that ask abt ppl not recognizing nuance of the matsus in their self ship stuff kinda pisses me off... everyone who's desd serious about liking them you can see their understanding of the matsunos .... guys let's close our eyes and shut up.....

[swordsmans]

hmhmhmm. if you will allow me a hater moment... it irks me when people put personal-ish text posts in character, ship, show, etc. tags. u dont need to tag your thoughts with every possible thing related to your thoughts... it's okay just to post for you and your followers...

[cheeriochat]

Those like little mini-verse little blind bag things are just Re-Ment miniatures for straight people.

I said what I said.

[sunnibits]

. 😶

[shuafiles]

w boyfriend [j.ww]

MDNI, 18+

SUMMARY | watching wonwoo play video games is so hot.

PAIRING | streamer gamer bf!wonwoo x afab!reader

CONTENT | smut with no plot (kinda), slight masturbation (f), oral (m receiving), unprotected sex (pls dont), light degradation, voyeurism? (listening in), big dick wonwoo

WORDS | 2.4k

A/N | typical wonwoo gamer smut, which im obsessed with. also valorant gamer wonwoo, and a lot of stream terms lol.

you were lying in bed with your phone in hand, scrolling through every social media app due to boredom, when a notification popped up reading, “jwonwoo is live!”. a smile forming on your lips, you clicked on it. your boyfriend–clad in a grey hoodie and his black glasses–was displayed on your phone screen. he was looking around his screen, making sure everything was perfect for the stream. you glanced at the chat, seeing people slowly start to come in and greet him.

you loved that wonwoo was a streamer. it was so on brand of him to play video games and to livestream them to people. you could tell he loved creating content, too, always raving about what new games he was excited to play for his viewers. he couldn’t have done it without you. before you and wonwoo decided to live together, he used to stream his games for you on discord. seeing how entertaining it is to watch him play, you convinced him to livestream his gameplay to people, and he did. now he has over 300,000 followers on his account, supporting himself with what he loves doing most.

“plant the spike, gyu!” wonwoo’s voice echoed from your phone. you were so deep in thought that you hadn’t even realized his game started. examining him through his camera, his brows were furrowed, gaze intent on his game while simultaneously making call outs to his teammates.

there was something about wonwoo playing video games that made him so hot. his fingers quickly hovering and pressing different keys on his keyboard, which you could slightly see through the hand cam he had attached below his face cam (it was requested by his viewers). you loved the sight of him playing, you think it’s one of his hottest moments. him being so focused on whatever game he had on for the night. the sleeves of his hoodie being pushed up against his arm, his muscles flexing every now and then. you felt your arousal gathering between your legs, gripping your pillow before deciding to get up and head toward his room.

“hold on, cheol, i’m smoked off, can’t get into the site.” your boyfriend sat on his chair, facing his brightly lit monitor that you were sure was too close to his face. you leaned on the doorframe, arms crossed against your chest as you watched him. he muttered curse words when his agent died, leaning back on his chair as a spectator. the corner of his eye spotted you, head turning to face you fully, he flashed you a smile. he muted himself on discord, gesturing you to come close, which you did. “everyone, say hi to y/n! my lovely girlfriend is here.” he placed his hand on your hip as you leaned down to show yourself on camera.

“hi, chat!” you waved, smiling. your relationship with wonwoo was not hidden. his true fans knew he had a girlfriend, some were supportive, and some were haters. you did not really mind it, after all, they were only brave through the screen. you glanced at his second monitor where the chat was displayed, various people saying hi and complimenting you filled his stream. growing shy, you waved another goodbye before leaving the frame.

wonwoo quickly said he’d be right back before tapping the mic that was mounted on his desk to mute himself, pushing a button that turns his camera off. he slid one ear of his headphones off the side of his head. “hi, baby. what’s up?” he pulled you close to him, making you stand between his legs. his arms resting on your waist.

“nothing, just missed you.” you placed your arm on his shoulders, ruffling his hair lightly.

“wonwoo! buy a gun, man!” mingyu’s voice from his headphones. you leaned down to kiss his lips lightly before getting out of his grip.

“i’m sorry, baby. i’m just going to play a few games, then you have me, okay?” wonwoo assured you, placing his headphones on. taking a final look at you before he playfully patted your ass, making you yelp. “i love you!” he yelled out as you made your way out of his room.

an hour has passed, and you grew even more needy. wonwoo’s stream is still displayed on your phone, watching him intently and imagining him working on you instead of his keyboard. sprawled out on the bed, you closed your eyes, hands carefully caressing your own body. you wore a white tank top with lace on top and some pink and white striped lounge shorts. biting your lip, you slipped your hand under your shorts, not wearing any underwear. you swiped a finger from your entrance down to your clit, feeling your slick just from the thought of your boyfriend.

as if wonwoo could read your mind, you heard him groan from your phone. “fuck!” he sighed as he whiffed on an enemy. the sound traveling to your already throbbing core. you slipped a finger inside your pussy, not feeling content, you added another one. slowly pumping your fingers in and out of you, imagining his hands on you instead. groaning, it wasn’t enough; you needed more. pulling your fingers out from your shorts, and wiping them on the outside before marching over to wonwoo’s room.

wonwoo was practically in the same position you left him in. you walked near him but stopped when you were nearing his camera; you dropped to your knees, on all fours, and crawled under his desk. he was too focused on his game even to notice you were there. kneeling in front of him, you tapped his thigh with your hand, which made him jump and look down. you had a desperate look in your eyes, licking your lips. he smirked, he knew you like the back of his hand. he slid his chair closer to you before returning his gaze to his screen, your heart pounding from your chest as you pulled his boxers down enough to reveal his growing cock. he wasn’t that hard, which made you pout.

you grab hold of wonwoo’s cock, thumb sliding over the slit of his head while sliding your hand up and down. if he wasn’t hard before, he surely was now. his now perked-up cock was turning red from your touch. your mouth watered at his big cock pulsating. satisfied, you let go before grabbing the waistband of his boxers; he lightly lifted his lips as you pulled them down to his ankles.

“jesus.” you heard him grunt as you took his cock in your hand, darting your tongue out to his head. amused at his reaction, leaning down, you took your tongue out, licking the base of his cock all the way up to the head. he let out a groan, “i kicked the wall by accident.” he muttered against his mic, glancing at his chat to make sure no one could suspect what your naughty ass was up to. when he was in the clear, he glanced at you, pretending to reach for his foot, but he placed his hand on your cheek, caressing it softly. you leaned into his touch before you engulfed his cock in your mouth. tongue swirling around the base, moaning around his cock (thanking the heavens that he had noise cancellation on his mic). slowly pushing further down his length, lightly gagging when you felt the tip hit the back of your throat. you wrapped your fingers around the areas your mouth couldn’t reach. you continued to suck him off, hollowing your cheeks as you moved. tears brimming your eyes as you bobbed your head up and down.

wonwoo couldn’t focus on his game any longer, hearing his teammates curse at him for being shit, but he couldn’t care less, not when he had his hot girlfriend choking on his dick. so the minute his game ended (in which they lost) he clicked the “stream ending soon.” prompt displayed on his screen, and he muted his mic before gathering your hair with his hand, his other hand placing his headphones on his desk. his chat going crazy as to why he suddenly ended the stream.

“you’re such a naughty little slut, you know that?” wonwoo grunted, throwing his head back against his chair before guiding your head on his cock. you placed your hands flat against his thighs as he continued to thrust his cock in your mouth. his hips bucking upwards to bury his cock deeper into you. “needy princess couldn’t even wait for me to finish work, hm? you just want everyone to know what a dirty slut you are, don’t you, baby.” you looked at him through your lashes, he sighed at the sight of his cock deep in your mouth. “get up.” he let go of your hair, you unlatched yourself from his cock, a string of saliva forming.

wonwoo guided you onto his lap, your legs on either side of his thighs. his hand resting on your cheek before attaching his lips to yours. his lips were rough on yours as if he had been waiting to taste you all day. his tongue forcing its way into your mouth, making you moan. your hand flying to his hair, lightly gripping it.

“take these off.” pulling away from your lips, tugging at your shorts. you stood up before him, gripping your shorts before pulling them down. he leaned against his chair with his arms behind his head, shamelessly checking you out. “god, you’re so beautiful. take off your top for me, baby.” he gripped the hem of your shirt before pulling it off your body, he threw the shirt on his desk, hitting his mic, unknowingly causing it to unmute. he reached behind you to quickly press end stream, noticing his mic light was on. he glanced at his discord, seeing mingyu and seungcheol were still on the call. he decided to have fun. “come here, baby.” he gestured for you to climb on his lap, which you did immediately. making mingyu and seungcheol’s ears perk up on the other line.

“you’re wearing too much clothes.” you whined, gripping his hoodie, which he chuckled at, before reaching down and discarding the hoodie he had on.

“better?”

“god, yes.” you whimpered, fingers tracing his toned chest. you leaned forward, placing your lips on his neck, peppering him with soft kisses, and occasionally sucking on the spots you know he loves. you felt his hands rest on your ass, squeezing it, prompting you to grind your hips on his. your wetness transferring to his dick, a smirk forming on his face when he felt it.

“we barely even started, and you’re already dripping for me, princess.” wonwoo grabbed one of your breasts, placing his mouth near it. “what am i going to do with you?”

“please.” arching your back which made his mouth graze against your tits, you nearly cried at the contact. he hummed in amusement before swallowing your nipple with his mouth. you threw your head back, gripping his shoulders. he circled his tongue around the bud before pulling away and doing the same on your other boob. “wonwoo, please just fuck me already. been wanting you all night.” you begged.

“my poor girl, have you been waiting long?” he asked, to which you nodded. he lifted your hips before aligning his cock at your entrance, rubbing his tip along your folds, making you shiver. without warning, he gripped your body to sink down onto his cock, which made you yelp.

“oh god, your dick is so big!” you cried out, unaware that there were two people listening in on you.

mingyu groaned as he imagined you bouncing on his cock. it felt so wrong, but it was driving him insane. seungcheol, on the other hand, shamelessly already had his shorts down and his cock out, stroking it at every sound you made.

“fuck, how are you so tight every time?” wonwoo growled as you bounced on his cock. his hands lazily guided you, but you were too high on his cock that you were doing it all on your own. he watched as your boobs bounced along with your movement. the sound of skin slapping echoed throughout the room, beads of sweat forming on your forehead as you continued riding his cock. “look at you, you love fucking yourself on my cock, huh?” nodding at his words as you were too lightheaded to speak. your stomach forming knots as he talked you through it. you loved it when he talked dirty with you, his deep voice mumbling the words you wanted to hear driving you completely insane.

“love–” nails digging into his shoulder, “your cock inside me.” you gasped out. his grip on your hip tightened, holding you in place as he thrusts his hips instead. you cursed out his name as the tip of his cock kissed your cervix with every pound. your head falling on his shoulder, you planted sloppy kisses on his skin. he let out groans, breathing out as he felt your lips on him. “w-woo, i can’t.” closing your eyes, he quickened his pace.

“take my cock like the slut you are.” you clenched around him, as he repeatedly rammed into you. you pulled away from his neck and stared into his eyes. his eyes were dark, brows furrowed as he brought you over the edge.

“fuck, baby. i’m gonna cum.” you moaned as your hips met his.

“cum with me, princess.” with a few more thrusts, your orgasm came crashing down. your knees feeling weak as you felt wonwoo’s cum paint your walls white. your body gave up, curling up to his sweaty chest. trying to catch each other’s breaths.

“i love you.” mumbling against his chest.

“i love you, too, baby.” you felt wonwoo swivel his gaming chair around, speaking into his mic. “enjoyed the show, boys?” your eyes widened, pulling away from his chest. he grabbed the headphones to place them near your ears.

“jesus christ, didn’t know you guys were kinky as shit.” mingyu spoke out, your cheeks flushing.

“that was hot as fuck.” seungcheol admitted, his dick limp from jerking off. you slapped wonwoo’s chest, which he only laughed at. secretly finding it hot that they were listening in the entire time.

“keep it to your imagination. remember, she’s mine.” wonwoo sheepishly smiled at you before kissing you softly.

“w boyfriend.” you giggled against his lips.

[suntoru]

─ ✰ WHIPPED 4 U!

─ SYNOPSIS: gojo satoru's a whiny baby when it comes to you.

─ WARNINGS: pure fluff, kissing, whiny gojo, suggestive at the end but not smut, cat being gojo's biggest hater

─ AUTHOR’S NOTE: this is canon GIGGLES I HOPE U LIKE IT!! cool people reblog n comment if u did <3

you're wholeheartedly convinced that gojo satoru, without a doubt, is the embodiment of a five-year-old child trapped in the towering physique of a grown man. "babeeeeeee..." he melodically whines, storming into the room with a cascade of faux tears threatening to spill from his mesmerizing teal orbs, each blink carrying the weight of dramatic distress. in a display of sheer drama, he clutches his finger as if it's a dire injury, letting out exaggerated sighs that could rival the most skilled actors.

his 6'3 frame drapes itself dramatically into your arms, and if you didn't know any better, you'd swear he's reenacting a tragic scene where his body had been sliced in two. (haha get it i'm sorry please don't come for me) theatrical whimpers escape him, each one carefully crafted to tug at your heartstrings, and he lifts his pointer finger, presenting it to you with the utmost flair. it's a spectacle that could put any tantrum-throwing toddler to shame, yet in the midst of it all, there's an undeniable charm to the childish antics of gojo satoru.

"milkis scratched me," he huffs, his gaze a glaring accusation directed at the unbothered pearly white cat adorned with a delicate satin pink bow. the feline culprit merely licks its paw, an image of serene innocence, blinking up at you with adoration as it meows and gracefully rubs against your leg. "see? a demon." he declares, shoving his wounded digit in front of your face, revealing a tiny cut barely grazing his skin.

you respond with a nonchalant sigh, seemingly unimpressed by the ordeal. gojo, however, wears a visible frown, his hands finding their way to your face as he squishes your cheeks with playful exasperation.

"so ya don't love me anymore." he pouts, his lips forming an exaggerated puppy dog expression, his wide, pleading eyes boring into yours. "you're choosing him over me??" a soft giggle escapes you, a teasing melody that only deepens the lines of his pout. in retaliation, you playfully flick his forehead, and he lets out a broken whine, nuzzling his face into the comforting crook of your neck.

"meanie." he murmurs against your skin, his voice muffled by the closeness. you playfully ruffle his hair, a mischievous smile dancing on your lips. deciding to indulge him in this lighthearted moment, you gently grip his chin, lifting it to meet your gaze. cooing as if he were a child, a teasing glint sparkling in your eyes as you play along.

"aww... my precious baby... whatever shall we do?" he willingly sinks into the warmth of your palm, lifting his injured finger for emphasis.

"kiss." he pleads, his bottom lip jutting out in a display of drama. obliging, you lean in, planting a sweet peck on his finger, accompanied by a playful 'mwah!' his initial pout falters slightly, basking in the attention you're graciously bestowing upon him. "better?" you ask, tilting your head, a playful smile lingering on your lips. but gojo has more demands, pointing to his forehead with a childlike innocence. without hesitation, you plant your plush lips right where he's pointing, barely holding back a giggle at the adorable display.

"you forgot here." he points to his cheek, and you humor him once again, planting a smooch on the designated spot. "my nose needs loving too." he whines, and with an eye roll, you indulge him, giving his nose the attention it apparently craves. "i think i need one more to be all better." he declares, this time pointing to his lips. his eyes close, anticipation written across his face as he puckers up, awaiting the sensation of your mouth against his.

"you're so greedy, 'toru." you complain, yet you succumb to his wishes, wrapping your arms around his neck. standing on your tippy toes, you feel his hands snake around your waist lovingly as you deliver the requested kiss on his lips.

his are buttery soft, radiating pure unadulterated warmth as gojo smiles against your own. the kiss is a gentle exchange, soft, sweet, and wrapped in an aura of innocence that makes you reluctant to pull away. after what feels like an eternity of shared breaths and lingering closeness, he eventually releases you, both of you left breathless and slightly dazed.

"s-satisfied?" you huff, your cheeks now tinted a rosy pink. with that signature mischievous glint in his eyes, he grins, and you can feel something twitch in his grey sweatpants. "if you're handin' out free kisses, i can think of something that needs a little lovin'."

© KAEFFEINEE 2024. do not copy, repost, or translate any of my works on any platform.

[osaemu]

WHEN YOU'RE SICK: STREAMER!GOJO

✩ ‧ ˚. synopsis: you have a cold, and he has a bag of sweets—how does your streamer boyfriend comfort you when you're sick? (streamer!au)

contents: fem!reader. fluff. pet names. very self-indulgent bc i'm sick right now and needed this for myself :,) can mostly be read outside of the streamer!au i guess.

“i brought you some sweets!”

you look up drowsily when your boyfriend’s familiar voice pulls you out of your sleep. your eyes slowly adjust to the soft lighting of your room and to the perfect, sharp features of the face inches from yours. “satoru, how are you here—”

he cuts you off by pressing a finger to your lips, and a moment later, satoru slips some sort of candy into your mouth. “‘cause you’re sick, and i’m a good boyfriend. obviously,” he teases, smiling endearingly when your eyes light up from the sugary taste of whatever satoru gave you. “how’d you catch a cold, anyways?”

you sit up a little bit, resting your back against the headboard and your head on satoru’s shoulder. “i’m not actually sure,” you admit, snuggling into the arm that wraps itself around you.  “aw, you’re wearing the hoodie i got you,” you point out, tapping on his chest. it’s a small inside joke between the two of you—the logo on the top left of the hoodie is the one from the streamer inmaki’s channel, a user who has a long-standing reputation for being one of your boyfriend’s haters.

“only because i practically ran out of the house once i got your text,” satoru huffs, rolling his blue eyes good-naturedly. he notices the little smile on your face and the way you cover your mouth in an attempt to hide your laugh, so he pulls out his phone from his pocket and adds, “hey, what was i supposed to do when i get a message like this?”

random girl i guess i like: can u come over :( i’m sick and imy

“why’d you change my contact to ‘random girl i guess i like?’” you gasp dramatically, snatching satoru’s phone away from him. a nervous laugh slips out of your boyfriend’s lips before you turn on him, squinting your eyes at him suspiciously. “if i looked at suguru’s contact, what would i see next?”

“...you don’t wanna know.”

“satoru gojo, answer me or i swear—” you don’t get to finish your threat before a sneeze cuts you off, followed by two more that leave you deflated in satoru’s arms. somehow, your head slides down from his shoulder and ends up on his chest, and a look of concern overtakes satoru’s expression.

“how sick are you?” he asks tentatively, fishing out another candy from his pocket and prodding at your lips with it. you open your mouth and let him feed you, taking a second to relish the sweetness of the sugar-loaded bite before you shrug and sniffle again. “poor thing,” satoru coos, rounding his eyes down at you while you rub your nose to get rid of the subtle itching sensation. 

“i can’t stop sniffling,” you mumble dryly, staring up at satoru pathetically. it’s as if you’re a wet cat that’s been sitting in the rain for hours, and as if he’s the kind old man who takes you in and dries you off. satoru’s slender fingers thread themselves through your dishelved hair, stroking it and twining it around his hand. “s’ been like this for hou— no, days,” you continue, determined to complain for at least the next couple minutes. “and—”

satoru’s hands move from the top of your head to your cheeks, cupping them intensely enough to hold your face still as he leans down and gives you a quick kiss on the lips. you make a small sound in protest, not wanting to get him sick too, but he ignores you and peppers feather-like kisses all over your face. “you’re so cute like this, y’know?” he murmurs, squishing your face in between his hands. “all rumpled and bedhead-y, aww.”

“satoru, you’ll get sick,” you point out, futilely trying to lean away from his lips when he goes back in for a kiss again. “satoru!”

“i don’t care,” he grumbles, swatting away your hand when you try to pull on the strings of his hoodie. “you’re my girlfriend, and if i wanna kiss you, then i will. and i don’t care if i get sick, ‘cause i have a pretty girl to take care of me anyways, don’t i?”

you stop protesting and let him press his lips back to yours again, and even though you sniffle again about three times, satoru’s as devoted to you as ever. “really?”

“yeah. my mom— ow, i mean, you too!” he adds quickly, grinning playfully even when you swat his chest. “i’m joking, i’m joking. have some candy, sweet girl.” before you can say anything, satoru shoves a handful of bright, colorful sweets in your mouth and kisses your nose. “take a nap. i’ll be here when you wake up, i promise.”

somehow, the moment you hear satoru’s murmured reassurances, your eyes grow heavy and you surrender yourself to his grip. “m’kay…” you mumble, closing your eyes and exhaling softly. and maybe it’s your imagination, but you swear you can feel satoru’s suppressed laughter as you fall asleep to the sound of his heartbeat. 

… 

“wait, now what do i do?”

[sonknuxadow]

*spins the wheel again* i don't like any pairings involving amy and characters that are meant to be copies/counterparts of sonic or are said to look like sonic in universe. because well for one shes a bit younger than most of those characters so i find it uncomfortable based on that alone but i especially dislike it if the reasoning for it ties back to sonic in some way like amy is settling for the next best thing or whatever. all of it just feels like an extension of the whole thing of people treating amy as nothing more than shipping fuel and reducing her to just romance and her crush on sonic like she doesnt have any other personality traits . nothing im saying rn makes sense i dont think im bad at words

i need to get more hater-y today to combat the endless sea of mushy ship art everywhere umm . *spins wheel of ships i dont like* knuckles and rouge would not date portraying them as a cutesy lovey dovey couple feels out of character for both of them and throws out everything thats already fun or interesting about their dynamic

[menagerofmischief]

hey lovely !! please can i order shrimp cocktail served hot with lobster and cheese fries and some mint tea to drink, served by max verstappen? i love monza as a track :D

Dia's Diner Menu

shrimp cocktail rivals to (and) lovers hot appetizer sweet sex lobster "I love watching my cum leak out from your pussy" cheese fries "I love making you squirt" mint tea body worship + kimchi "Be a good girl and take it"

TW: PiV, unprotected sex, finishing inside

WC: 1.1k

A/N: they're already lovers in this one, I'm sorry if that's not what you had in mind but it was the easiest for me to work with.

I was scrolling on my phone when I heard a knock on my door. First one, then a pause then two more, one right after the other. They weren’t timid soft taps of knuckles against the woods, they were determined hits.

I knew who it was right away. I was expecting him from the moment we got back to the hotel one media day wrapped up. 

I shut off my phone and threw my legs off the side of the bed, pushing my body up. It only took a couple of steps for me to reach the door of my hotel room. My hand lingered over the handle of the door, before I finally pushed it down and opened the door. 

The light from the hallway was bright, contrasting the dimmed lights of my room. I looked at him, standing in front of me, with his arms crossed over his chest, a hint of a smirk on his face. He was wearing gray sweatpants and a white shirt, a completely regular look for a guy, but God, did it look delicious on him. 

“Verstappen,” I said, my voice holding a hint of a teasing tone, my lips stretching into a small smirk.

To the outside world, Max Verstappen and I were each other’s biggest haters. Born rivals, if you will. We’ve never gotten along on the track, definitely noticeable by our colorful radios about each other, and the fact that we usually had only not so nice things to say about each other during interviews.

But behind closed doors things were much much different. Max and I had been seeing each other for around 6 months by now. Sneaking into each other’s hotel and driver’s rooms, sneaking kisses behind garages and going on dates dressed like we were running away from the police.

His eyes slid along my figure, making goosebumps rise on my skin. “Schatje,” he said, the term of endearment rolling off his tongue is his mother language. 

I stepped to the side and Max wasted no time coming in. As soon as the doors were closed behind him, his hands were all over me. He pushed me gently up against the wall, one of his hands running along the curves of my body while he used the other to push my chin up. He leaned down, his lips pressing against mine in a passionate kiss, his tongue stroking mine with precise movements.

Max picked me up, my legs wrapping around his waist and carried me over to the bed. He dropped me down and crawled on top of me, trailing kisses along my skin. “Been thinking about this the whole day,” he said, his lips brushing against my jaw. “You looked so good today, I spent all day thinking about having you under me like this.”

He quickly worked on removing my clothes and then his own and before I knew it we were both naked. I looked up at him, his eyes dark with need, I ran one of my hands down the skin of his back, watching him shiver at the sensation. 

“Please Max,” I said, my voice quieter than I intended. He cocked one eyebrow, signaling for me to keep talking, that a simple please wasn’t enough if I didn’t say what I was asking for. 

I could feel myself blushing, blood rushing to my cheeks and making them warm. “Please, I need you to fuck me,” I said. “Need to feel your cock in me.”

“Whatever you need, schatje,” he said, and I can practically feel his voice vibrate through me.

Max doesn’t waste time. He spreads my legs and slowly pushes himself in and then stills once he’s balls deep in me, giving me time to adjust to being stretched by him. 

“Move, please!” I manage to say and Max gives me a little nod and a smile before he begins thrusting into me. 

While this is different from our usual fast, hard and desperate hookups, it’s still equally as good. The angle he is thrusting into me from is allowing the tip of his cock to hit my most senstive spots over and over again as he fucks me.

“You’re so pretty, schatje,” he said as he brought one hand to my skin. He ghosts his fingers over my collarbones, then the edge of my breast and then along my waist. “The most beautiful woman to walk the planet.”

“Max,” I whined, blushing at his words. It was quickly replaced by a moan as his hand moved down between us and his thumb started circling my clit.

My body arched off the bed, the sensation both unexpected and overwhelming, as he continued to fuck me and play with my clit. “Shh,” he said, pressing his lips against my forehead. “Be a good girl and take it, yeah? I know you can.”

“I’m gonna cum,” I moaned out, feeling like every nerve in my body had been set on fire.

That made Max speed up his movements, his thumb rubbing just a bit faster as he continued to push himself impossibly deeper into me with every thrusts. 

I came with a loud moan, my orgasm hitting me faster and harder than I expected. I barely managed to register what was happening, finally focusing my mind on the facts that I had squirted all over Max, droplets of it running down his abdomen. 

Max groaned, his hips never losing their rhythm as he continued to chase his own orgasm. “I love making you squirt,” he said, his voice rough and raspy. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum. Where do you want it?”

My eyes locked on his and swallowing the lump in my throat I opened my mouth to speak. “Inside, Max, please.” I babbled, too lost in my own pleasure to care about how it sounded. “Come in me, please.”

I clenched my walls around him and that was all it took for him to finally break. Max groaned, his hips stilling as he emptied himself inside of me. 

He took a moment to catch his breath and then slowly pulled out his now softening dick out of me. His eyes darkened, gaze fixated between my legs. “I love watching my cum leak out of your pussy,” he said, a low growl in his voice.

I leaned up enough to press my lips against his in a gentle, loving kiss. Once we pulled apart, Max let himself fall onto the bed next to me and wrapped his arms around me. I could feel myself starting to fall asleep, my eyelids getting heavy.

Max pressed his lips against my forehead gently. “I love you, schatje,” he said, his voice lulling me to sleep. I hummed in response before closing my eyes.

[sovksluv]

hi! could you do something with luke castellan x a lowkey bitchy reader? like very snarky and kinda bratty, but is only rly sweet to him?

sparks

𖤐 . pairing - Luke Castellan x gn!reader

𖤐. summary - you’re a hater at heart (so real) buuuuut you have the sweetest soft spot for your sweetest “best friend”

𖤐 . content includes - mean/hater!reader (as you should), random (probably douchey) ares kid, allusions to crushes, the word loser (im watching it so that’s in my mind rn)

𖤐 . word count - 536

𖤐 . taglist - @perseus-jackass @niktwazny303 @st4rzl7

𖤐 . a/n - sorry this sucks 😭 but i hope you guys like it !! also i had smth else to say but i forgot it so oh well

“okay?” you retorted, dragging out the ‘y,’ venom laced between the waves of your words. the Ares kid in front of you — whom you were arguing with, paused, face red and searing with anger, searching for his next comeback.

you smirked in a momentary victory, preparing to finish off your battle with clever last words however, your attention was drawn away at the shuffling beside you.

the familiar warmth of a hand on your leg sent your head flying to the side, face immediately lighting up as your eyes were engulfed in the ever so familiar sight of his chocolate curls.

“hey, Sparks! what’s happening?” said Luke, who then began immediately stuffing his face, eyes never leaving yours.

the beaming smile on your face was a great contrast to your previous heated moment, which you had just been reminded of at the sound of a throat clearing.

both of your attention was drawn to the Ares kid who had yet to leave, unlike others who were in his situation before. “what are you still doing here?” you snapped, firing up again.

after a moment of silenced shock, he went to speak again, only to be cut off. “i asked a question! now leave!”

he scoffed, slamming his palms on the table as he dramatically stomped away. “he should win an award with all that drama.” you sneered, eyes practically rolling into the bag of your head.

Luke snorted from beside you, hiding an amused smirk with his chewing as he gave you a look, eyebrows raised. “what!” you yelled, a smile taking over your features again.

he shrugged, failing to hide his laughter as you playfully shoved him, your own laughter following suit. “nothing, nothing!”

you laughed, eyes brightening with fiery joy. “why are you laughing at me, Luke?” he smiled, eyes tightly scrunching as he scooted himself closer to you, erupting warmth throughout the both of you.

“it’s just funny,” he reasoned, suddenly breaking your eye contact to stare at his empty, devoured plate.

your eyebrow raised, interest peaked as you shoved him again, his head instantly turning back to you. “what is?”

“your attitude.” he quipped, very, very slight fear etched in his words.

“my attitude?”

“yes your attitude. like- you’re so sassy to everyone.”

you scoffed, eyes scrunching up. “well, everyone but you.”

Luke thought for a second, realization crossing over his face. “yeah. everyone but me. why?” he asked, smirk returning and eyebrows raising in anticipation.

“because I like you.” you answered, voice strong despite your weary insides, hoping Luke would fail to understand what you were truly saying.

he softly chuckled, his sweet smirk reappearing. “yeah, cus’ i’m special.”

you snorted, “yeah, you really are special.”

Luke scoffed in offense, and now it was his turn to shove you, dramatically crossing his arms at your words.

“whatever, Sparks. you’re just a hater.”

you laughed, dragging your body closer to his as the two of you continued firing snarky remarks back and forth.

neither of you seemed to notice or care about the stares from the campers around you.

it was unlikely that anyone would understand your unexplained softness towards the hermes boy. they just didn’t understand you like he did.

losers.

© sovksluv 2024 , please do not repost or translate my work !

[narfin-frood]

pivotal moment where wander "has to" integrate sylvia into the hivemind and it EATS at him and it's the catalyst for a great deal of his redemption arc

GOOD PROMPT!!!! VERY GOOD PROMPT!!! i'm sorry the captions and timing are a little fuckedup but i could not REST until i finished this. i do recommend pausing to read some of this, and if that ends up being tedious, i'll put the thumbnails with a transcript under the cut!!

TRANSCRIPT:

[interior, planet yonder. wander growls in distress, green lightning sparking around him]

MR. METEOR: peepers, we gotta get outta here! [he grabs peepers by the hand and takes off]

WANDER: N-N-N-NO! YOU WILL NOT UNDO ALL MY HARD WORK!!

[wander growls again. sylvia covers her head to protect from falling objects]

SYLVIA: WANDER! are you okay??

WANDER: I'M FINE!!!

SYLVIA: really?? cuz this place is lookin' like it might not hold up much longer!!

WANDER: NO!!!

[wander rubs his forehead with his fingers, grimacing with effort. the lightning dissipates. cut to mr. meteor and sir peepers, at a crossroads. mr. meteor is looking up and around the ceiling as peepers scampers around him, looking for the way out]

SIR PEEPERS: ohhhh where'd we park?? which way is out??? ohhh grop it all looks the same!!! we're trapped!!!

MR. METEOR: it stopped...

SIR PEEPERS: [glances upward] ...huh.

[cut back to sylvia and wander]

SYLVIA: that's some willpower you got there, buddy...

WANDER: sylvia?

SYLVIA: hm?

WANDER: i want you to go after them. and i want you... to hurt them.

SYLVIA: wh...what...?

WANDER: i believe i've made myself clear.

SYLVIA: [shakes her head] no. i'm not doing that. you don't want me to do that.

WANDER: AND WHO ARE YOU TO ARGUE??? FOR THE GOOD OF THE COLONY, SISTER, I ORDER YOU TO GET THEM!!!

[wander breathes heavily from the effort of screaming. sylvia looks disgusted.]

SYLVIA: [removing her cloak] alright.

WANDER: w-w-wait, what're you doing?

SYLVIA: i'm leaving. [she wads up her cloak into a ball] if this is the kinda operation you're running now, i don't wanna be part of it. have fun spreading kindness across the galaxy.

[wander stares at her, wide-eyed and baring his teeth in an intense frown, as she walks away]

WANDER: [reaching out to grab her with several arms] YOU GET BACK HERE RIGHT NOW!!!!!

[cut to mr. meteor and peepers, who are running down a tunnel]

MR. METEOR: are you sure we're going the right way??

SIR PEEPERS: i have NO IDEA sir

MR. METEOR: it opens up ahead! this might be the way out!

[camera zooms in and focuses on the end of the tunnel. something drops from the ceiling right in front of the exit, unfolding itself to take the form of sylvia. she has two mushroom arms sticking out of the sides of her head, connected to the ceiling, and her cloak is on again.]

MR. METEOR: UH-OH!

SIR PEEPERS: OH GROP

[closeup on sylvia's face. she snorts]

MR. METEOR: she doesn't look too happy, peepers!

SIR PEEPERS: why are you saying that like it's MY fault??

[sylvia mimics rolling up the sleeve she doesn't have and crouches, preparing to leap. peepers reaches for his sword.]

SYLVIA: GRRH!

[sylvia leaps into the air, screaming, aiming for peepers]

SYLVIA: YAAAAAAAAH!!!

SIR PEEPERS: ENGARDE, SHE-BEAST!

[shot changes to a flat shot from the side, and sylvia sails over peeper's head, crash-landing on the floor with a smack. she slides forward until she arrives at mr. meteor's feet.]

MR. METEOR: uhh...?

[sylvia shoots back to her feet, grabbing mr. meteor by the collar and winding back to punch him in the face}

MR. METEOR: WHOAWHOAWHOAWHOA WAIT!! NOOOOOO NOT THE FAAAAAAACE!

[sylvia's fist makes surprisingly gentle contact with hater's jaw. he looks at her in confusion, and sees her crying]

MR. METEOR: uhh. okay. um.

[he begins to scoot past her and away. sylvia crumples to the ground, shaking]

MR. METEOR: seems like you're goin' through a lot right now, and...if you're done, y'know, trying to kill us, or whatever that was...

[he trails off and makes eye contact with Sir Peepers. They dash off down the tunnel and disappear.]

[carolmunson]

blood machine.

emperor geta x senator's daughter!reader songspiration: in keeping secrets of the silent earth 3 | coheed & cambria

did not once plan to write for this guy but here we are. also like, is it historically accurate? no. like, not even a little. (hell is mentioned and technically hell wasn't 'a place' until 400 BC but like WHATEVER.) am i making a semi effort? sorta kinda. have i been a little stoned every time i've worked on this? well, yes.

summary: when what was supposed to be a diplomatic dinner before a much bigger and lively feast becomes a marriage offer, all of the wine you drank turns to ash in your mouth. haters to haters, bay-bee. tw: 18+, drinking but like -- idk it's ancient rome, tension, fighting, some mild body shaming (??), a literal threat of domestic violence but again it's ancient rome so like i don't think they cared, two stupid little bitches who hate each other. mentions of war and ultimate distaste for the poor. reader kind of has lady macbeth vibes. my little evil queen.

Wine is poured, golden chalices exalted. You are a vision and he is a toad looking creature of a man that only his mother could love. Not quite his brother, never quite measuring up the same way -- always trying to puff his chest. It was easy to tease him, ego easy to bruise -- little brother. You’d spent time in your childhood tagging along with your brother and the other kids to taunt him, pathetic and whimpering. 'Tale teller!' you'd jeer, every time he'd run off to his mother to blubber over how mean you all were. And you were mean.

But people grow, as they do. And so did you -- still mean, but in a different way. Listening to meetings, reading maps, keeping tabs on new republics, on potential uprising. The poor -- the fucking poor. Finding new ways to keep them occupied so that they'd stop trying to find ways to be powerful. Powerful like you. Powerful like the man at the head of the table with a plum to his lips. And as it has been said, a man in possession of a good fortune and power, must be in need of a wife. It became clear when you arrived that this was not a business dinner before a grand feast, your parents simply forgot to mention what this was really about. Your best linens, your hair coiffed, your best jewelry, you should have known it had been a ruse the moment you got there. His home on Palatine just sparkling the way the gold on your fingers did, candles in the halls and stairways glittering when they hit the rubies and pearls on your chest and ears. When your father veers the conversation from politics and business to marriage you both choke, stern eyes glued to your mother's painted face. A business dinner where you are currency -- more than worthy. Just a few months shy of being eligible when Caracalla was, regrettably, forced to marry Flavia at the last moment. It would've been nice to have the gang together again in some capacity. Could've bullied the toad to assasinating himself if you were lucky enough. Total power. Complete upheaval. The more you thought about it, the more of it your craved. The pit in your stomach grew, if it wasn't with his brother -- even though you bore no attraction -- there was not a point at all. Geta didn't think nearly as critically, didn't hit hard enough, didn't strategize correctly. You'd never even seen him pick up a sword -- but then again, that made sense. You very rarely spent time in his palace, much prefering the festivities of Caracalla's close by.

You listen while your mother goes on and on about his grace, tongue dipped in honey while she blabbers. She mentions how handsome he is, his valiance in leadership, how honorable he's become as he's taken the place of his late father -- you can't help yourself but laugh. The giggle echos and bounces through the high ceilings, floating against the archways, getting caught in the drapery by the open hall. His eyes flick to you over his goblet, catching in the candle light, an aggravated sneer plaguing his face. He looks like a pig when he does that, you think to yourself.

You know that business, for the most part, is a man's game. But it does not deter you from doing your best to try and wager yourself out of this. Ideas drip into your mind while the drone of the conversation turns to fuzz in the background. How can you sell that this is a bad idea? It will bring less publicity, less of a threat, less resposibility if married to someone with equal nobility. Certainly not an emperor. Especially not one like this. So petulant, so competitive, so eager for a war he does not know how to plan, so temperamental, so weak, so conniving, so consumed with the colosseum that he doesn't think of what should be done around him. It's his voice that brings you back to attention.

"And why is it she hasn't been taken for a wife then, at this age?" he asks, brow quirking in your direction. You let out of huff of offense while he sips his wine, metal clinking as he places it back down. A smirk flits across his features at the remark, "Is something wrong with her?"

Your father, sweating with embarrassment, looks over at you and back at the emperor, "Well she, she's of course beautiful." Geta winces, cocking his head to the side with a shrug. Your father sighs, desperate to try to find a better angle, "She um, she -- she has great wits, Ceasar, unmatched. She knows her duties as a wife, but -- a great thinker. She could -- she could be helpful!" "Wits," he mumbles sourly under his breath before leaning back leisurely in his chair, "Great thinker? Very surprising." "August--" your father starts. "Co--" you correct over a sip of wine, "Co-Augustus."

Geta tosses you another sour look, tongue running over his teeth before clicking it behind his lips. You shrug while swallowing. "Semantics, Publius," you wave a hand at him. A hush falls over the room as his gaze snaps up at you, blanching at the disrespect of being called by his first name. Your mother hides her face in her napkin with a groan. Your father leans his temple against his fingers, eyes closed in frustration. "Mind how you address me," Geta corrects with a stern pull to his lips, eyes glittering with rage. Your eyes catch over the mountains of food before you, holding your glass out as one of his servants pours you another glass of wine. "Is that not what your mother calls you?" your voice feathery, but certain. A vein begins to raise and pulse in his neck while his shoulders round forward.

"Please apologize, dear," your mother mutters, putting the napkin back on the table, "Tell -- tell the emperor what it would mean, to be -- to be wed to someone of such calibur."

Your eyes stay on his, challenging him while your mother begs you to say something to make amends. Another sip of wine passes your lips, "No, shan't."

Your mother scolds you, your full name escaping her with embarrassment tainting her tongue. Sweat beads at your father's forehead while he changes the subject, doing aything to try to keep his good favor with both sides of the imperatorship.

You grin into your goblet at the sight of Geta's face -- reddened with anger and frustration at the brazen disrespect. But it was fine to continue to be an enemy if it meant you would leave these regal walls and never have to step foot in them again. And if you did, it would be as another senator's wife, visiting his brother in another house where you'll laugh and drink wine and cheer when he's killed.

Even his posture is revolting, hunched over while he listens to your father speak. Now going on and on about paper work that doesn't interest you if it doesn't have a say on who is next on the list to conquer. Your eyes glaze over in boredom while pomergranate, honey pudding, and dates are placed on the table. Rose wine replaces the red to sweeten the tongue -- you're sure your parents wished it were true.

It's not very long after dessert is served that your parents start again.

"As you know, she does come from a family of very fertile women," your father encourages. You quickly swallow the bite of date you'd taken to interrupt, nearly choking, "Excuse me, I'm not sure this is appropriate dinner conversation."

Geta looks at you while you speak, scanning you and then lingering on the dessert in your hand, "Her hips are quite sizeable -- big enough to bear multiple childen, that's certain. Is that her only sell?"

Anger bubbles under your chest, but warning looks from both of your parents keeps your sharp tongue between your lips. The grip on your goblet tightens, jaw clenching while your pass another sip through gritted teeth. You let a seething breath out through your nose. "As I tried to explain before," your father continues, "She is very on the pulse in terms of the political climate and, and, and great with strategy." "I'm not looking for a wife who tries to strategize for me--" he responds coolly. "From how the empire has not expanded since your father's death I would guess that perhaps you should be," you snap back smartly. His posture straightens, chains and medallions across his chest glinting in the candle light. The room quiets itself again, only the sound of untensils and cups being put down or collected filling the dead air. The soft scrape of metal, the rustle of linens while servants and guards alike avert their gaze downward.

"Leave us," he states, voice pungent with authority. You stretch your neck on both sides while the servants depart, already bored with the back and forth. Already moved on from the eventual scolding and potential exile that won't get put into motion because you are simply too friendly with the rest of the upcoming generals and politicians. One rogue idiot who barely has the power his brother has, that his father never trained into him, could not dole a punishment that is worth your genuine fear.

You sigh, hearing the staff make their way down the long stone corridors into the grand halls to prepare for a more formal party with other higher status families. More likely a collection of offerings for him to choose from, other parents trying to arrange a marriage with the empire's most powerful and eligible bachelor. It would be one of the few times the brothers would have to engage with each other, which you're sure put Geta more on edge than normal.

"Senator, please take your wife to the grand hall to be seated," he commands, his voice lower, delving darker. The vein in his neck continues to pulse, forearms straining against the golden cuffs over his wrists, "The guards will accompany you."

You watch as your parents rise, bowing their heads before following the guards out of the room and through the blood red drapery hung from gilded valances. Geta's eyes stay hardened on you, and yours him, while you rise as well, taking a few steps around the large wooden table toward the exit. "Not you," he says, not turning to face you, "You will stay." "It is not appropriate for me to be unaccopanied in the pres--" "Do not speak," he huffs, hand coming up to silence you, "Your voice grates on me." "Then you can imagine what your own voice does, Augustus," you say without thinking, letting the insults flow out of you like the fountain water in the courtyards. He pushes away from the table, steadily walking towards you with enough vigor that the bottom of his cape starts to billow behind him. On his way, he pulls a sword from a guard's holster, dragging it so the tip grinds against the stone, making your jaw clench at the shrill sound.

"What happens to those who speak against me?" he asks, steps clicking against the floor from the studs on the bottom of his sandals. He begins to stalk around you, circling while he waits for an answer. "Execution," you respond, keeping your eyes on the drapery just twenty feet ahead of you. "What else?" he asks, you can feel his breath behind you, the whining grind of the sword against the stone making your shoulders tense. "Exile," you answer, a laugh bubbling out of you, "But I can't imagine your brother agreeing to either of those. You'd really banish me, Publius? Because I was a little mean to you?" When he appears in front of you again, your lips stretch into a sickeningly sweet smile, sarcasm staining your tone, "But we're such old friends."

He cocks his head to the side, taking a step closer with the sword between you, "Oh, I wouldn't do that to you."

He leans forward, enough that you can smell the rose wine on his breath. His voice quiet and menacing, "Though -- it could be that the senator said something to offend me tonight at dinner. It could be that perhaps he -- spoke poorly of my dear brother or my late father. Something just dastardly enough to sour my brother's respect for him." "And you expect Caracalla to believe that?" "In what way does it benefit me to lie about it?" he challenges, "And even more so -- with your father exiled, where does that leave you?"

You swallow thickly, not giving him the satisfaction of replying while your look into his now wild brown eyes. Flashing with mania and endless possibility.

"A peasant," he spits.

"If it keeps me out of these halls I should be lucky, no?" you fire back, looking at him from under furrow brows. He continues to circle you, dragging the sword again. The click, click, click of his shoes keeping time in your head. "I'm sure my brother would be happy to keep you as a pet in the meantime," he laughs to himself, "Or we could put you in the colosseum, you think you'd fare well?" "Better than you could, that's certain," you cross your arms over your chest, "Could never stand up and fight like a man, even as a kid. Your father would be embarrassed."

The grinding gets louder as he presses harder down, causing small sparks to fly from the edge of the sword.

"If you were to be chosen, would ever even attempt to learn respect?" he asks sharply, "Or would it have to be beaten into you?" You snort, "At least you're the funnier brother, you have that going for you." You can see him out of your periphery, the way he pulls his cheeks in, the roll of his shoulders -- he's losing patience. "What, would you prefer I called you Geta? Augustus? Ceasar?" your eyes roll. A soft cackle comes from his through, canines showing in a gleeful smile, "No, no -- from you? I'd much prefer something more respectful." Click, click, click. The grind of the sword. The rose on his breath. "Dominus," he nods with the threat, "Dominus et Deus."

"You disgust me," you respond quickly. "As a husband and as emperor is that not my title, already?" he shrugs, looking at you like it's obvious.

"You are nobodies Lord and God, you are a petulant -- sniveling -- repulsive little brother who is only where he is by being lucky to be born," you glower.

"You still see me as a child, femina," he tuts, "I promise you, what ever Caracalla has told you is a tapestry of made up stories. You could hang it on the tallest arch and it would hit the floor ten times over."

"I do see just a whining child before me," you hiss, "I'm sure you'll run to your mother after this, too."

His chuckle turns to a low, dark laugh from deep in his chest. It crawls up your spine and rings in your ears, mixing with the grating 'shhhhhhinnnngggg' of the sword on the ground.

"If it were fate that there was union between us," he asks from behind you, "What would you say to that?"

You look straight ahead, hearing the click of his shoes. The heat of the torches on the walls billowing onto your face while you keep your eyes on the drapery, still closed -- still keeping you here.

"It would be a fate worse than the hottest hell," you confess, your voice not wavering.

The whine of the sword stops, sheathed into his belt. The click of his shoes halts.

Quiet.

Rose wine on his breath, you feel it on your skin now, his chest against your back while he closes the space between you. A hand reaches up to push the hair from your neck, the other gripping the fat of your hip to pull you ruthlessly against him in a thud. Your eyes shut, bile crawling up your throat in disgust. His nose coasts against the shell of your ear, making you tilt your head away while goosebumps rise on your arms. Through a knowing grin he whispers, the words burrowing deep in your chest in loathing and a glimmer of fear: "I pray every moment of it burns you."