#Voice Projection and Public Speaking | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

satoruhour · 10 months

Text

HIS FAVOURITE W— STUDENT !

a/n: dilly / @crysugu i am losing the pwp war i needed the lore to be in this HELP. anyway !!! professors bc i cannot stop my mind from spiralling while starting my university classes — im not entirely proud of this but eehhh ….

wc: 4k

warnings: ultimately semi-public sex for all, unprotected sex, cumshot, standing doggy, brief oral (m receiving), brief f! masturbation, brief fingering (gojo), geto is a professor who is also a camboy, camgirl!reader, f! and m! masturbation, mentions of bad dragon’s cumtubes, brief fingering, unprotected sex, creampie / breeding kink (geto), pussy slapping, spitting (on yo pussy), pet names, clit stimulation, oral / cunnilingus, tit play, fingering, implied f! masturbation (nanami), mentions of murder, stripper!reader, riding, degradation, calls you ‘slut’ and ‘whore’, calls you ‘mama’ once too, unprotected sex, oral (m receiving), deep-throating, slight face-fucking (toji), n*sfw under the cut

✶ GOJO

professor gojo was… an interesting teaching figure. he didn’t have a set way of doing lectures or tutorials, nor was his feedback on assignments entirely coherent, but he was fun and unorthodox. he was also hot as fuck, as you’ve heard from your friends, but you never really got the deal even after seeing his photo on the university website or from miles away entertaining some starstruck student. his classes were always left with no vacancies, too, only able to see what your friends meant after stepping foot first into the lecture.

you were a tad bit early, greeted with gojo sitting at the front with his legs propped up on the desk as he shot you a nonchalant greeting and you think maybe you should’ve signed up for another lecture group, but then he speaks and the air is knocked out of your chest. professor gojo is charismatic when he teaches about art, design and media, captivating everyone with the stark white hair and blue eyes, but he’s clever with his glances because you aren’t realising he stares at you more than anyone else.

aren’t you in your second year? how did he not see you anywhere last year? why did you just sign up?

the smiles he gives you are sweeter than others, the words more sugar coated with lilts in his voice and you’re chastising yourself for not being any different from everyone else, soon turning into the girls who ask for extra tutoring sessions and sidling up to him on campus — at least you’d get the full experience.

“oh! sweetness, what are you doing here?” you’ve managed to get gojo just as he leaves his office, standing outside for quite some time thinking if you’d really want to do this. several lecturers and professors have already walked past asking if you needed anything, but no matter how much you wanted to say professor gojo’s name, it always turned into something like waiting for a friend.

“oh— uhm, professor gojo, just wondering if the grade for that major project is really set in stone?”

gojo makes a show of thinking, but you know you’re asking for the devil himself when he replies yes with a stifled grin and you’re asking if the two week period of appealing works for the major you’re in.

“you can submit other collaterals as an appeal but it might either boost your grade or bring it down,” the professor leans down with a sick smile on his face, because he’s had so many people outside just like this, nervous from his advances and yet not going through with what they thought they could do. but this time it’s you, the you who he imagined taking on his office desk or even in a lecture theatre for everyone to see, who wants the words to fall from your lips just so he could be your knight in shining armour.

“is there really no… other way to appeal?” you swallow when gojo switches the position and gets you in exactly where he wants you: your back facing his office, his face dangerously close to yours while his eyes slyly catching the way your thighs rub together.

gojo smirks to himself when you knock down yet another cup of stationery on his desk after “discussing” ways you could improve your grades, nails making unsatisfactory noises on the wooden desk while he can hear your cunt gush around him, made obvious from the squelch of your hole and he’s muttering praises into your neck from behind.

“this what you had in mind, baby?” just another girl in his roster, getting ruined just for a grade that wasn’t even that bad. what you didn’t know is that you were the only girl, getting professor gojo so hard in lectures and tutorial classes just from the sight of you that to finally have you — it’s a sweet reward. you shiver when his hand reaches to your front to rub at your clit and you’re grasping at nothing as moans leave your lips.

“y-yeah, professor—” gojo is filthy, lewd, lifting your leg to prop up on the desk just so he could get deeper in you, your pussy everything he imagined and more as he continues to fuck into you. you’re warmer than his hand, than some hookup’s mouth from the club, clenching around his cock so tightly his hips stutter.

“f-fuck, angel, tryna snap my dick off?” you let out an incredulous chuckle at that, hips moving back to meet his while the sounds of his balls slapping against your ass fill the room. your juices are coating his length so well, too, that gojo’s eyes lock on your cunt that sucks him in over and over again, the spread of your pussy lips just amplifying his moans. the other spreads your cheeks and sighs at the translucent ring of cum at the base of his cock, hips fucking up to hit your sweet spot that you’re cumming with a shock down your spine — so hard, so deep, so intense that you’re jolting from the orgasm with whimpers of his name. gojo never truly is done with you after pulling out to cum on your ass, however, and you aren’t either.

there’s a thrill that runs through his veins when you back him up onto the sofa, a glimmer in your eyes that suggest you’re as intoxicated on him as he is on you, a sultry gaze taking over your shyness from earlier before he’s pushed onto the cushions.

“thank you for the meal, professor,” you giggle and gojo swears he’s reached his death when your mouth first closes around his still sensitive tip and he whines loudly, hearing your fingers fill your drooling cunt as your hand squeezes out leftover cum from before. a hand runs through your hair and your cockdrunk face is enough for him to see white—

professor gojo thinks you look heavenly between his legs.

✶ GETO

you sigh echoes throughout your dorm room, ending the stream and collecting your keep for the day as you grimace at the mess you’ve made on your sheets. it’s not like it wasn’t pleasurable, but on some days you’re wondering how long you truly need to serve gross men on the internet for it to be enough to pay off your university fees. sure, there were a few attractive people who commented and tipped you, but that was the extent of it. it’s not long before you can only think about cleaning up and taking a big fat nap, but a video in the sidebar catches your attention.

it seemed like a casual stream — no script or planned storyline apart from a heavily tattooed arm taking up half the screen, his pelvis just slightly off the thumbnail. he was faceless, too, filming rather from the chest down which was also inked, something that sends a chill to your core.

it’s only later when you’re slipping your dildo back into you as you watch this stranger pump his cock, guttural groans and slick noises filling your airpods that you realise the dragon wrapping around his arm looks awfully familiar. you’re so blissed out by pleasure, focusing on the needy moans that the man lets out before he cums with a grunt, so much cum leaking out from him. you’ve reached your high too, but you have no time to admire the stranger because it seemed like he was in a hurry, but not before you’ve caught a glimpse of his lip ring.

you know why he looked so familiar, now, standing in front of him in his office while his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, something he doesn’t do often. geto suguru doesn’t wear his lip ring in lecturers either, and now you think you know why because they match the video you’ve seen just last night. you aren’t even entirely sure why you were called in, and you think maybe it’s because you “accidentally” sent a friend request, but you’re taken aback when he asks you if you’ve already selected a tutor to be your mentor throughout your major project.

“surprised? i sent out the email a week ago, love.” you try not to let the name get to you, and the confession lingers at the tip of your tongue.

“y-yeah! i saw it, professor geto, just—”

everyone was no stranger to professor geto’s striking looks, always turning heads with his unconventional gauges and long hair that probably should’ve landed him in a modelling agency in the first place. except, he’s opting instead to teach linguistics, a fitting major for him to talk of the history of language and its formation of it, even slipping in some latin and greek to show its origins but you can hardly listen when all you can focus on is the tight pull of his shirt around his body while his hair falls around his face and you think maybe it was a bad time to think if his hair falls out of his bun while he rails someone. you hope soon it’ll be you, just so you can confirm it for yourself with no other reason involved (you’re a fucking liar).

geto clears his throat and you swallow and the flex of his forearms only distract you further, the dragon on his arm seemingly laughing at your torment as it moves along his skin — the other doesn’t miss your dilemma, staring at you for your answer with a dark stare and enjoying the effect he had on you. your brain doesn’t respond fast enough, though, and you’re blurting out the first thing as you watch the curve of his mouth turn in either distaste or satisfaction; you weren’t sure.

“i saw you stream yesterday—” and you slap a hand over your mouth, wanting to run immediately, but you didn’t expect him to smile after a moment of recognition, making the connections to your account until his mouth falls open just a little.

“you’re the little cutie who sent me a request last night, aren’t ya?”

as he asks the question you hoped he wouldn’t ask, you find there’s nothing on your mind except maybe seeing his tattooed arms wrap around you — and you did. they looked so much better up close, leading from one thing to another in that stuffy office soon they’re looking especially good with how he’s currently dragging the tip of his cock along your folds, collecting your slick as you hold onto his biceps after confessing sin after sin about you from—

“i’ve jerked off to your videos.” a burn on your cheeks when geto sets you on his office table, palms leaving hot trails along your thighs and skin. he lets you play with his bulge, hands probably forming bruises on you from how you relieve the tension in his pants.

“the way your cunt wraps around that dildo — makes me wish i was there fuckin’ your pussy instead.” a gasp and a moan when he preps you with both fingers as he sucks hickeys into your neck and plays with your tits, pinching your nipple that has you clenching around him.

“didn’t miss how you like to be bred in your videos too. think maybe you need some real cum, princess,” geto’s button up shirt is pried open by now, trousers just barely pulled down below his hips because he has a lecture in about half n’ hour. though, he wanted your pussy all to himself and if 27 minutes was all he was granted, he was going to make full use of it. geto groans into your hair when your legs wrap around his middle and he’s reeling at how he’s been watching your videos for the longest time and yet, nothing compares to having you fall apart by his hands.

a quick glance to his watch tells him fifteen minutes, eyes flitting back to the squelch of your cunt around him and he smiles smugly at the whimpers he knows so well. he’s sure it’s imprinted on his brain by now but his dick still jumps at the many variations you’ve let out during the 27; he’d commit every single one to memory. “professor— s-shit!”

geto angles his hips up, the curve of his cock hitting that spot just right that your back arches and you let out a drawn out moan, “yes, baby?”

“w-wan’ your cum in me, suguru,” you’re pleading with a drunk little smile and your face is twisted into such pleasure he’s only seen through pixels that geto cums almost immediately with a pained laugh seeing the real thing, hips stilling as he fills you up, up, up to the brim with hot, white semen that geto feels embarrassed to climaxing so quickly. but what can he do? when his favourite camgirl and student asks to be bred, it’s only natural.

how could he possibly say no?

✶ NANAMI

“does that mean the poem is written from the cross’ perspective?” your hand shoots up in hopes of interpreting the text correctly, but also because, just maybe, that you wanted to impress a little someone at the front of the lecture theatre. beside you, you can hear the gasp of your friend along with the eyes of various other students. “sort of like— personification?”

nanami points to you with his glasses that he’s long removed, a small smile on his face. it’s not like you’re trying too hard, but of course you know your shit fairly well. you always have in every class, it was just a bonus you were so attractive that all nanami could think about was spreading your legs right on this desk. “yes, almost. anthropomorphism, something that was very common in poems or works written in old english.”

you were sceptical about professor nanami at first, especially since he was a lecturer who was transferred here from overseas only three months ago and is technically quarter of a white man, but he held command of the japanese language well enough for you to understand, both in speech and concepts. you were more interested in the lecturer himself though, piqued from the moment he explained his grandfather was danish and you turn to your friend, explains the blonde hair, doesn’t explain how he’s so insanely fine, giggling quietly to each other the first day.

as for your major, it was texts after story after poem, but you enjoyed it alongside giving your own input in class — something you knew would help your participation grades. you’ve raised your hand in more ways than one, always coming up at the end of lectures with a question, stopping him in hallways to show him the book you were currently reading. so that’s why you were confused when you were called to the front of the lecture theatre after everything’s over. it couldn’t be bad, right?

it wasn’t bad, it was much better, especially when nanami’s got your legs on either side of him on the lecture theatre desk while he takes his rightful place between your legs — somewhere he’s always longed to be. both the front and back doors are locked, with only your soft, muffled moans filling the room. but nanami has no shame, slurping up the juices that drip from your pussy loudly, possibly staining the desk below him. he’s cared before about the condensation of his drinks but when it comes to your sweet, sweet cunt? he doesn’t give one fuck.

“taste so good, sweetheart,” nanami moans wrapping a forearm around your thighs and just eats. he flicks his tongue over your clit, while the other hand goes up to squeeze at your tits, kneading and playing with them while you’re still at awe at the man on his knees, at how you’ve gotten one of the hottest professors in the university eating out of your pussy like it’s the last meal on earth.

you’re snapped out of your daze when nanami lands a few slaps onto your pussy, brown eyes boring holes into your skull. but this stare is different, as opposed to glaring down the mischievous boys who can’t stop making noise, this is…

“pay attention when i eat your little pussy, angel,” the demanding tone has you shivering, a small grin stifled when he nods in deserved approval and continues his assault. fingers slip in before you have time to react and your head is thrown back so hard it bumps against the wood but you don’t care, clamping down around his fingers. nanami’s pace is unforgiving, sucking hard on your clit while he pumps them in and out.

“feel good?” nanami asks through slurps as he catches your eye, licking one last stripe before gathering his saliva into a ball and he spits onto your clit, sight so lewd you clamp around his fingers. he admires how the way the glob of liquid runs down your cunt and mixes with your arousal that he can’t wait for it to be his cum instead.

“better than…” your voice trails off when he rubs in his spit, a thumb on your bud while he continues to move his fingers and your thighs are already trembling from how nanami knows all your sweet spots in such a short period of time. nanami simply chuckles at your sensitivity, meeting you halfway as you sit up to feel his lips against yours and he whispers against your lips—

“what were you gonna say, baby?”

you’re heaving for oxygen as he adds a third finger and you’re just hoping he’d show you his fucking dick already. hot breath fans across your lips and you smile to yourself seeing how your words affect him.

“better than fucking myself with my fingers thinkin’ it’s your cock, prof.”

✶ TOJI

it was nine in the morning, and toji could already feel a headache forming from the amount of absentees in his class, simply sighing before pulling up the details for today’s lecture, eyes unknowingly looking for you in the large lecture theatre. he finds that you’re already looking, clad in a cardigan and tired eyes — no doubt from trying to reach his deadline earlier than usual. toji found that you liked to do that, the first one to always submit your essays and assignments, so that’s why he knows what game you’re playing at when you’re asking the difference between first, second and third degree murder when you already know their definitions.

he would know — you got full marks the other time.

“hm?” toji only hums when he sees your enthusiastic face and a quick look down to your lower half shows how your legs spread naturally for him. the professor only licks his lips before he spots your underwear, entertaining you for now as you stare on earnestly, while nothing is actually entering your brain. that’s okay, though, you’re smart.

toji can count on one hand the amount of times you manage to catch him off guard, but he didn’t expect both of those times to be on the same day. it was a busy night at the club, trailing behind professor gojo, bored, until the clock hits 11 and the shift changes, some dancers retiring for the night whilst others make their way out. they emerge with pumps and skimpy outfits, but toji still hasn’t found someone worth wasting his loaded bank account on until you’re stepping out in a corset and garters and toji whistles lowly, eyes travelling up your person unforgivingly before he hears a small gasp.

his curiosity is piqued at the small noise, only to be greeted with your widened eyes and taut muscles at having seen your professor at the strip club you work at, but with a clap from somewhere backstage your body moves naturally into a professional stance, and perhaps a little more sluttily than other days.

your professor was hot, of course you would work twice as hard, twisting your body around the pole while you show off your assets — things you were covering just this morning in professor toji’s lecture. he taught criminology, a minor that you were trying out in your second year of uni and if it didn’t work, you’d drop it, but no matter how much you complained about the class, the green eyes that bore into yours in lectures always seem to ask you to stay. you never really knew whether he was looking at you or not.

at least now, you’ll make him.

toji’s hands tightened around the wad of cash he planned to waste tonight, all put on hold just from watching the way you put your body on display. he wouldn’t have imagined seeing you tonight at the strip club he let gojo drag him to, but he’s almost glad he’s here when you seem to be only dancing for him, all focus on the other patrons lost.

your eyes are still locked with toji’s, reminding you of the times in the lecture theatre where green was all you could see, a smile creeping on your face when one of your girlfriends behind you whispers that the man with the black hair and tight shirt wants a private session with you.

that’s all it took before you feel toji’s hands on your ass later in the private room, pulling you to his front with a smirk. “what’s a sweet girl like you doin’ here?”

you roll your eyes as you feign annoyance. your heart was pounding along with the music, finally being able to feel his toned body from the front., “cut the crap, prof. you booked me for a reason. what, here to talk about my grades or something?”

“what? can’t see my favourite student?” you scoff with a small smile.

“and how did you know i work here?”

“i didn’t, but seeing you work that pole,” toji grins, landing a smack on your butt before grinding his very obvious, large bulge on you and he’s loving the way it seemed to stimulate your clit, “i need ya to show me what i’ve been missing, mama.”

toji groans later while you’ve got his cock in his mouth, on your knees in front of him while you’re fisting the places you can’t reach. you take most of him easily, feeling the tip of his length reach the back of your throat. there, your eyes flick up to him, doe eyed and pleading. it isn’t long before you feel his hips bucking into your mouth and the cute twitch of his cock in your mouth, moaning around him as you knead his thighs, dragging him closer with what little strength you had.

“dirty fuckin’ slut, huh?” toji mumbles out breathlessly, tightening his grip around your hair before you start bobbing your head again, a plethora of lewd noises alongside the slurp of your saliva and his pre-cum mixing only makes your panties wetter and sends your cunt clenching around nothing. “who knew my cutest student was such a whore?” your head reels at the degradation, sucking in your cheeks even more while you slobber over him. toji swears under his breath when your tongue sweeps over his tip, collecting his pre-cum.

“it’s s’big in my mouth, professor,” giggling, you bob your head faster as the other’s noises increase in volume, and he’s left to tap the side of your skull, causing you to tilt your head in question. the vibrations of your moans has him grinding into your mouth, shutting you up until he’s cumming down your throat with a loud groan. toji spills so much into your mouth that you have to swallow twice, pulling on your jaw as you show him the remnants of the cum still on your tongue.

“’m sure they have it somewhere in the conduct about professors not having sexual relations with a student,” toji chuckles when he sees you peel off your underwear, eagerly wrapping his arms around your waist. “or even something about cutting corners to get your grades up…” it’s a little soft, trailing off when he feels you drag his tip along your pussy and he’s mesmerised with how your dripping folds accommodate him easily.

you pout in dramatics, thighs tightening around his when you take inch after inch of him before you’re bottoming out. there’s a deep sigh coming from you before you’re moving your hips lazily, a certain slur to your words that already show you’re drunk on your professor’s cock and toji only smiles.

“yeah, but my grades are perfectly fine,” you whisper with a small whine when toji squeezes your ass, something he never thought he’d get a taste of.

“plus, we’re not in the classroom now, are we, professor?”

9K notes · View notes

exuvianen · 2 months

Text

dating hc's with dr. ratio, aventurine + blade!

headcanons about what these hsr men do in a relationship witth you <3

cw: x reader, gn! reader (no physical descriptions), mostly fluff, sfw, headcanon style

notes: hsr brainrot… ahahaha... i hope i have a fairly good grasp on these characters and wrote them well.

wc: ~1050 words, around 350 words per character. all under the cut!

feel free to drop an ask or to add on to my thoughts! likes + rbs are appreciated <3

✎ Dr. Ratio:

He likes parallel play, or being alone together with you. He works on his own projects, like grading papers or writing a new thesis while you’re doing your own thing, like playing video games or reading. Occasionally, he might ask you for your input, such as ideas about his next thesis or what pose he should sculpt himself into next.

He has a spare desk and chair for you in his office. You can choose to do work or entertain yourself there when you visit him and he’s still teaching a lecture, but feel free to take a nap on the plush sofa he bought just for you.

He will nag you about your health but in an annoyingly endearing way. He fusses over you, telling you about appropriate attire for today’s weather, offering you an umbrella, and reminding you to drink water.

He entertains all your ideas, no matter how silly or illogical. He’ll hear you out on anything you say, though he might have some very strong disagreements or objections to your ideas, especially if they are silly or completely nonsensical. However, he never turns you away when you bound up to him with a mischievous gleam in your eyes - he just sighs and prepares himself mentally to hear whatever goofiness comes out of your mouth.

He’s your biggest cheerleader, supporter, and advocate. Though he may come off as intimidating, he is always willing to help advance your career or work. He has many connections and vast knowledge of the universe after all - why not utilize them for his beloved?

He’s very good at dispelling any irrational thoughts in your head. If you’re panicking and your mind is disoriented, he’ll sit next to you and hold your hand gently, but firmly to ground you. He doesn’t speak at all when you vent out all your frustration, confusion, or anger - rather, he’s silently contemplative and then asks questions when you finish talking. He’ll indirectly guide you to a solution while gently calming you down as he dispels those pesky thoughts from your head.

He makes a custom alabaster head for you.

♤ Aventurine:

A big fan of matching accessories and clothing. You don’t need to wear the exact same outfit, but he likes wearing complementary colors and jewelry to yours.

If you’d like, he’d be more than happy to bring you to casinos and public events with him. He wants to show off to you and let you witness his wit, talent, and skill like a peacock presenting its colorful feathers.

He likes it a lot when you trace his skin through the spade-shaped hole in his outfit.

He hates the feeling of being vulnerable, but he likes being around you. This creates conflicting emotions inside of him. Oftentimes, he doesn’t know how to deal with it and just lurks by you. Pull him into a hug to quiet the voices in his head.

He will send you packages or luxury items from the planets he’s visiting. You’ll be greeting a disgruntled Topaz or IPC soldiers at your door as they hand you various gifts ranging from limited-edition jewelry to flowers that bloom only once every 200 amber eras. He gifts extremely grand things, but he always knows how to find things that suit your tastes.

He’s a big spender on you. If you’re unused to the amount of money he’s willing to throw at you, he’s going to give you a lot of “exposure therapy” with his generosity. He’ll invite you to private auctions, lavish galas, luxury boutiques, and high-end jewelry stores. He’ll start filling your wardrobe with tailor-made clothes with the excuse that you should match his outfits when you attend formal events together, but his clothing contributions eventually infiltrate your closet pretty deeply.

He enjoys being pampered and pampering you. Self-care nights are a must - as a representative of the IPC and one of the ten Stonehearts, he has to keep himself presentable and looking sharp, and that goes for his partner too! He’s more than happy to spend money to fund your trips to the salon or buy you any beauty products to use at home. He’d love to put on face masks together and share a drink or two with you.

☠︎︎ Blade:

If you want to, and Elio’s script permits, he will bring you along on missions to safer planets. He’ll drop you off at a commercial district - feel free to go shopping or try out some novelty food while he wraps up his Stellaron Hunter business.

He likes getting his hair brushed. One of his favorite activities is sitting down and letting you comb through his hair after he cleans up from a mission. It’s an activity that leaves him vulnerable, but he doesn’t mind if it’s with you.

He’s an acts of service kind of guy. He moves to take your bags before you even say anything, holds open doors, and pulls out chairs for you. Brings you a cup of water and some fruit when you’ve been working for too long, and silently drapes his jacket over you when you shiver.

Tell him you like a certain pastry and he’ll show up every day and bring some. Show him a picture of a pretty flower and he’s boarding a spaceship to bring the flower to you personally. If you want something, he’ll do his best to get it.

He’s pretty quiet, but he’ll remember everything you say, what your preferences are, and what you like. He secretly writes it down in case his memory gets murky, and he’ll often reread his notes to remind himself.

He gives simple but traditional gifts to you, such as jade bracelets and pendants, and combs and hairpins if you have longer hair to wear or use them.*

He’ll treasure anything you gift to him. If you make an accessory for him, he wears it at all times. If your gift is small enough, he’ll stow it safely in his pockets and take it everywhere with him.

If family is important to you, he’ll send funds their way and ensure that they’re taken care of.

As someone who’s often dead and then undead, his body can get stiff. He’ll enjoy it immensely if you massage him, and accompany him for his daily stretches and calisthenics. Even if you just hold him for a while, he finds that his muscles will relax from the warmth emitting from your body. Therefore, he quite appreciates having you physically near him.

* Combs, hairpins, Jade bracelets, and pendants were given as tokens of love and affection in Ancient China. These gifts have a deeper meaning/symbolism, but for the sake of post length, I did not write them all out.

#exuvia works #honkai star rail #hsr #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x you #aventurine x reader #dr.ratio x reader #hsr headcanons #blade x reader #honkai star rail headcanons #hsr blade #hsr aventurine #hsr dr.ratio #ratio x reader #veritas x reader #veritas ratio x reader

2K notes · View notes

sarcasticscribbles · 4 months

Text

BOYCOTT EUROVISION FOR ISRAEL PARTICIPATION.

I am the Eurovision gay this time of year, I love this show. Not only is my country hosting 2024 but it's also in a city I love, but I can't watch as people sing about peace and love while Palestinians are getting killed by one of the participants.

I've complied a couple of petitions, open letters and information regarding Eurovision: Eurovision isn't the highest priority regarding Gaza, but this show is marketing & tourism for countries, Israel is using it to pink wash their politics

According to SVT, Swedish television network in charge of Eurovision 2024 in Sweden Malmö, Eurovision is apolitical, and therefore Israel qualify. They refer to any calls for boycott meaningless ( via )

SVT statement:

[ID: "SVT statement on the debate over Israel’s participation in the Eurovision Song Contest

Israel’s participation in the Eurovision Song Contest is generating debate and today a number of Swedish artists have called on the EBU to cancel Israel’s participation in the Eurovision Song Contest 2024. It is the EBU’s decision which public broadcasters may take part in the event, and as the host broadcaster, SVT follows the EBU’s decisions. The humanitarian suffering in this deeply complex conflict is devastating. Nobody can be left unmoved by the current situation in Gaza, or by the Hamas attack in Israel. We are also concerned about these developments. We understand and respect that groups of people wish to make their voices heard. As the host broadcaster, SVT has an ongoing dialogue with the EBU about the challenges of producing Europe’s largest TV-production in times of unrest. We are humbled by the task and are working to ensure the project can be carried out in the best way possible, with the vision that music unites." END ID]

Eurovision has always been political, and was created as a celebration of peace after WW2. Songs are statements, and EBU took action by banning Russia and Belarus for the invasion of Ukraine. It's a way to show sympathy and solidarity, which Gaza is in need of now.

Why Eurovision is so important to Israel is the opportunity of pink washing, and appearing liberal and LGBTQ-friendly, that the show encourages. This leads to great marketing and tourism for the country, alqueerian on twitter did a great thread about it:

[ID: Tweet from @ alqueerian on X formerly known as Twitter. Tweet: "A really quick thread on pinkwashing and why it’s wrong: pinkwashing is a term that was coined by LGBTQ Palestinians to specifically refer to the use of homophobia as a justification for israeli war crimes, ethnic cleansing, mass displacement, starvation etc." END ID]

Full thread

WHAT YOU CAN DO:

Here are a couple of petitions, open letters and links to encourage the ban of Israel in Eurovision

And if all fail: we boycott

Here are two petitions for the ban of Israel: Petition 1

Petition 2

A list of emails and contact information for broadcasters regarding Israel participation: copy, paste and send. Document

It's created by verilybitchie on YouTube who also made a great call to action video I can recommend

[ID: Screenshot of verilybitchie youtube video "Genocide at the Eurovision Song Contest". The video is showing an article by Chris Lockeyer, news reposter, titled "Israel to compete at Eurovision despite boycott threats" The article says: "The European broadcast Union said its member organisations approved Israel's participation in the competition and it remains aligned with other competition organisations on its stance." The article is from December 19th, 2023. END ID]

And for Swedes, I think it's extra important for us to speak up; here's what we can do:

Open letter via Björk & Frihet, a charity in Skåne offer letters to sign but also have pdf version to print at home!

[ID: Photo from Björk & Frihet, a swedish charity offering open letters to sign to send to the government. "Stoppa folkmordet" as the letters are ladled, means "stop the genocide" END ID]

This is also a letter regarding the contest being held in Malmö, a city with a long history fighting for Palestine! Sign here

[ID: Vote for Swedes in Malmö to sign to protest Israel's participation in Eurovision. END ID]

Meanwhile, don't forget your daily clicks to help Palestine while we wait for EBU to stand by their words and prove we are united by music!

[ID: Iceland's Hatari holds up Palestinian flags during Eurovision in Tel Aviv, May 19, 2019. END ID]

#free palestine #palastina #eurovision #boycott israel

2K notes · View notes

jonbinary · 2 years

Text

also re: my presentation . the last one i did was for my capstone class which was pre covid/interrupted by covid (spring 2020 sem) and i never really spoke much in the class i took when i went on hormones at the start of this year (a creative writing class lol) so this was like my first time Speaking in my Dude Register and man. i felt like i was yelling LMAOOO i mean i always try to enunciate and project my voice bc ik its frustrating when you cant tell what someone is saying but. man idk i dont think i was actually speaking that loud but something about the tone of my voice felt like it carried so far

#orion.txt #im typically pretty quiet so i think im also just not used to hearing my voice projected like that #vs before i had 22 years in the same voice doing acting and public speaking etc with it

0 notes

jozistyle · 1 month

Text

The Power of Posture to Improve Your Public Speaking

The Power of Posture: How to Improve Your Public Speaking Skills As a passionate public speaker, I’m excited to share my thoughts on how to improve your public speaking skills, even if you don’t have the time, money, or inclination to attend a workshop. One crucial aspect of public speaking is posture, which can make or break your confidence and credibility on stage. The Importance of…

View On WordPress

#Building Confidence for Public Speaking #Confidence and Public Speaking #Effective Public Speaking #Effective Public Speaking for Entrepreneurs and Business Owners #Effective Public Speaking Techniques for Confidence Building #Engaging Audience in Public Speaking #How to Engage Your Audience in Public Speaking #How to Improve Public Speaking Skills for Beginners #improve public speaking #Overcoming Fear of Public Speaking #Posture and Public Speaking #Public Speaking and Body Language #Public Speaking and Confidence Building #Public Speaking and Leadership Skills #Public Speaking and Stage Presence #Public Speaking and Voice Modulation #Public Speaking for Beginners #Public Speaking for Sales and Marketing Professionals #Public Speaking for Shy People #public speaking skills #Public Speaking Techniques #Public Speaking Tips #Public Speaking Tips for Overcoming Fear and Anxiety #The Importance of Posture in Public Speaking #Voice Projection and Public Speaking

0 notes

theghostkingisdead · 9 months

Text

when he's really tired, danny sometimes slips up and starts talking in ghost speak. the only ones who can understand him when he gets like this are tucker, sam, and jazz (because they're Liminal). of course, none of them realize this until danny slips up in public

Tucker hated English. The whole language was a confusing, contradictory mess. Honestly, the world would be a much better place if everyone just stopped talking and writing and only communicated using Timerio, preferably with several screens between them.

The blank word document stared back at him, mockingly. The sounds of his classmates typing away at their own projects – typing, normally his favorite sound in the world, how dare the project turn it against him! – filled the room. The clock in the corner of his screen told him they had twenty more minutes left in class; twenty more minutes until lunch, where he could at least enlist Sam’s help.

He wished she shared this period with him and Danny, but she was taking AP Lit this year. Tucker glanced over at his other best friend. His best friend, who was staring off into space, not even bothering to pretend to be focusing on the assignment.

Glancing up to make sure Mr. Lancer wasn’t looking, he risked asking, “Hey Danny, what are the odds of a ghost attack happening in the next thirty-five seconds or so?”

Danny barely moved, but Tucker watched him squint, like he was trying to read something far off and blurry.

“Pretty unlikely. Unless we’re still counting blob ghosts as threats.”

Somewhere in the background, the sound of typing stopped.

Tucker hummed, “yeah, that’s about what I figured.” That was ghosts for you, never there when you needed them, never gone when you didn’t. “What if you, ya know,” Tucker raised his eyebrows repeatedly, staring intently at his best friend.

“no.”

“Aw, come on!”

Danny rolled his eyes, leaning back into his chair. “Dude, if I attacked the school just to get out of the last quarter of English, I’d never hear the end of it from Sam and Jazz.”

Tucker opened his mouth, about to present the very reasonable argument that what Sam and Jazz didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them, when he felt someone tap his shoulder. Turning around in his seat, he met the wide, terrified eyes of Star. She was glancing between Tucker and Danny, face pale.

“Um, I don’t mean to be rude, but uh…” Her voice trailed off, and in the pause Tucker was suddenly aware of how quiet the room had become.

Glancing around, he saw that everyone – including Lancer – was staring at him and Danny with varying levels of confusion and fear. Tucker considered himself to be pretty smart in most areas, maybe even a genius when it came to tech. But it didn’t take a genius to figure out that he’d missed something important.

Danny, the absolute dick, had slumped forward onto his desk. He was out cold. Dead to the world, and definitely not available for backup.

Kwan cleared his throat, and Tucker saw that his face was ashen.

“What are you two fucking talking about?”

#danny phantom #danny fenton #tucker foley #dp headcanons #liminal tucker foley #dp writing prompt #cryptid danny fenton #creepy danny fenton #i justt love dp fics where danny gets to freak people out as fenton

2K notes · View notes

dfortrafalgar · 2 months

Text

Distraction

Portgas D. Ace x Fem!Reader

You and Ace intended to spend the day at the beach, but he can’t seem to be able to relax.

Warnings: modern au, so much smut. like so much smut. wet, sticky smut. 69-ing briefly. reader is also written to be on the chubbier side (im projecting <3) ace fucks you in the back of his car, basically. MINORS DNI. YOU WILL BE BLOCKED.

I woke up thinking about Ace today so I cranked this out in, like, an hour. It was a nice change of pace while I've been finishing up IMLY and the Luffy fic from my poll, which is almost done! (speaking of which, thank you for 200 followers <3)

Ace hadn’t seen your swimsuit yet. All he knew about it was that you purchased it recently on a shopping trip with a group of your friends, but it was currently concealed under a light t-shirt and denim shorts. Throughout the drive to the shoreline, he was anxiously eyeing your bare thighs, his grip on the steering wheel of his station wagon turning his knuckles white.

“What’s got you so nervous over there?” Your airly voice shook the freckled man out of his daze. “Eyes on the road, hotshot.”

“It’s nothing,” he blurted, pouting and turning his attention back to the road. Maybe he should have you sit in the backseat when your skin was exposed.

His own friends often joked that he was no better than a dog. It wasn’t his fault that his sex drive was higher than cruising altitude… or maybe it was. But he couldn’t help his wandering eyes when the soft skin of your plush thighs was exposed, or the way your deft hands fiddled with your cuticles as you stared out the window, sparkling eyes taking in the cloudless summer day as the backroads passed by on the drive to the beach. Most of your evenings together were spent with either his head between your legs, your head between his legs, or your face smushed into a soft pillow while Ace desperately railed you from behind.

It was a good life, that’s for sure.

“It’s been so long since I’ve been to the beach,” you suddenly stated, turning your head to look at your flustered boyfriend. “I’ve only ever been swimming in pools recently!”

“Yeah, me too,” he replied, his voice shaky.

Your eyebrows furrowed in concern. “Ace, are you really alright? Your face is kind of red.” You reached your hand over to press your palm to his forehead. “You don’t feel like you have a fever, do you?”

“Nah, I feel fine. Honestly. Just… thinking.” One of his hands left the steering wheel to rub his sweating palm against the fabric of his swim trunks. All he had on, other than the baggy trunks, was a white tank top that had a very unfortunate oil stain around the chest area. He was sure his entire upper body was flushing red with the debauched thoughts that plagued his weary brain. He hadn’t even seen your bathing suit yet and his mind was running in circles. (He started to debate calling up that therapist that Sabo recommended.)

“Well, tell me if you really don’t feel good. I don’t want you to force yourself to be out today just because of me,” you cooed, your voice soft and comforting.

He needed to tell you to stop talking. Even the sound of your voice made butterflies swarm in his gut.

He might as well have been ovulating.

After what felt like an eternity, the trees surrounding the backroad route he had taken began to dissipate, replaced with the beautiful sight of the shoreline. The ocean spanned outward as far as you could see, disappearing along the horizon and blending in with the bright blue sky. A few small beach houses dotted the shore.

“You said this was a public beach, right?” you asked curiously.

Ace nodded, swallowing a thick glob of spit. “Public, but very minimal. There’s some private properties surrounding it so a lot of people assume the entire place is off-limits to locals, but there’s a small parking lot set back from the beach near a tiny bathroom shack-lookin’ thing.”

You grinned. “Nice.”

“Do you not like public beaches?” he inquired, tossing you a side eye as he pulled further down the road, approaching the aforementioned parking lot.

“I don’t mind them,” you replied. “But sometimes really busy beaches make me nervous. Sometimes I don’t feel comfortable swimming when there’s too many people around… I get self-conscious in my bathing suits!” Your statement was punctuated with a fluttering, nervous laugh as you involuntarily squeezed the skin of your thighs.

“Well, you don’t have to worry about that when I’m here,” Ace replied, flashing you a cheeky grin.

The parking lot seemed sparse. It was entirely gravel with a few decrepit wooden fences separating where cars could park, some overgrown weeds poking through the impacted dirt here and there. Sure enough, there was a brown, run-down bathroom shack between the beach and the parking lot. During high tide, it almost seemed like the entire area would get flooded, but the gravel was drier than bone thanks to the beating sunlight.

You dug through your bag, removing a tube of sunblock.

“I thought you already put on sunscreen before we left,” Ace said, pulling into a spot and putting his beat-up station wagon in park.

“I did, I’m just putting some extra on my face,” you responded, uncapping the tube and squeezing some of the white gel onto your fingers. You deftly rubbed the lotion onto your skin, across your cheeks and brow, down your nose, and down your neck.

Ace needed to look away from you as your hands trailed down your neck and across your collarbones, ridding your hands of the excess lotion. You weren’t provoking him on purpose, he knew that, but clearly his dick was taking charge of the day.

Little prick.

The two of you excitedly exited the car, grabbing your small umbrella and towels to find a nice spot to set up camp on the sand. You were quick to lay down your towel when you found a spot, Ace digging a deep hole into the ground to mount the umbrella and provide a shelter from the beating sunlight. Only a few other people were dotted around the beach, mostly older folk who were most certainly retired and enjoying their elderly days basking in the sunlight. The thought made you smile. You watched with glittering eyes as Ace pulled his tank top over his lean body, his muscular chest rippling with his movements, letting the cloth fall into his bag in a wrinkled heap.

“Oh, shit, forgot the cooler,” Ace mumbled suddenly. “I’ll be right back.” He swiftly turned tail and hiked through the sand back to his car.

You smiled, crawling under the umbrella and feeling the sand beneath the fabric shift below your knees. You slid your denim shorts down your legs, shifting your weight to pull them off before folding them neatly and tucking them into your beach bag. Your shirt followed, your hands hooking under the bottom hem and pulling it up over your head, repeating the process of folding it and storing it away. Weirdly enough, you felt more comfortable on this beach than any other. While some old folk liked to gab, the sparse population on this beach seemed more than willing to keep to themselves. And there was no risk of creepy men your age or obnoxious teenagers to toss rogue comments about your body or shitty pick-up lines.

And you had Ace, of course, who would kiss the ground you walked on if you asked. The thought made your stomach flutter with glee.

Back in the parking lot, Ace was quick to haul open his trunk and grab the small cooler they had packed with water, some sodas, and some light snacks, slinging it over his bare shoulder and slamming the door closed. The hinges made a terrible squealing noise as the door moved. He really needed to get that fixed. He quickly jogged back to the shoreline with the cooler bag in his possession, his sandals making scuff marks in the gravel.

He almost died and came back to life when he saw you from behind.

Your clothes were off, your body hugged in a bikini that looked sculpted for you and only you. The strawberry-print bodice was tied around your neck and below your shoulder blades with thin straps, the front of the suit being held together in the front with a metal ring between the bust. Your plump breasts peeked over the seams slightly, making blood rush to Ace’s face. The solid-colored bottoms squeezed your hips and ass perfectly, with one side open and held together with strings in an intricate criss-cross pattern.

Ace’s feet were moving on their own, his soul ascending from his body as he floated toward you.

You heard the rustle of his swim trunks from behind you as you approached, turning to look at him over your shoulder. “Hey! All set with the cooler?”

He plopped to his knees on his own towel, the cooler hitting the ground with a thud. “Yeah, all set…” His voice trailed off as if he wanted to say something else.

You gazed at him with confusion painting your features.

“You… you look…” Ace could barely look at you. “You look so fucking hot… oh my god.”

Suddenly, his demeanor in the car made much more sense. The constant red flush painting his adorable freckled cheeks, his mouth in a perpetual tongue-tie, his lips pursing together tightly as he struggled to keep his composure. Your lips pulled into a bright smile, relishing in the flustered behavior of your boyfriend.

“Aww, thank you, baby!” you cooed, moving closer to him. Your hands trailed down his arm, ghosting over the tattoo on his bicep before teasingly falling to the cooler and unzipping the top, pulling an orange soda out of the bag.

“Please don’t tease me, I think I might explode,” Ace huffed.

You popped open the can with a satisfying click, taking a quick sip from the opening. “You know… I don’t think anyone’s going to mess with our stuff if you want to go back to the car…”

Ace’s dark eyes darted toward you, assessing the mischievous expression on your face as you kept the cold soda can pressed against your mouth. The metal was rapidly developing condensation thanks to the heat in the air, droplets of water dripping down the orange can and onto your fingers, plopping against your folded knees.

He carefully removed the soda from your hands, tucking it back into the cooler to make sure it didn’t spill, before standing up and hauling you to your feet, dragging you by your hand across the hot sand and back to the parking lot for a third time. He ripped his car keys from the pocket of his swim trunks, shoving the metal key into the door lock to open the vehicle before leading you to the trunk and popping open the door. You quickly clamored inside, him following behind you and closing the trunk from the inside. He chucked his keys somewhere towards the front of the car.

He wasted absolutely no time in smashing his lips against yours, making you wince slightly at the feeling of his teeth hitting your own, but the way his long fingers expertly groped the skin of your breasts below your bikini top made you forget about the momentary discomfort.

After a few stifling moments, Ace pulled away and heaved into the skin of your neck, holding you down by your shoulders.

The best part about him owning an old, refurbished station wagon was the ample amount of room in the back, as well as the lack of center console between the two front seats. It was a car built for fucking.

“Is this what you were thinking of on the ride over here?” you asked, a coy tone on your tongue. “About what my new swimsuit would look like?”

Ace grumbled, a childish pout on his lips as one of his hot hands continued to rub patterns up and down your side. Up to your breasts, his thumb ghosting over your concealed nipple, trailing down your waist and groping the plush flesh of your belly, down your thigh to squeeze your ass. The way the strings on the exposed side of your bottom piece fit into your skin made his cock throb.

“You’re insatiable,” you giggled, your own hands leaving scorching patterns over his shoulders and arms. “Are you ovulating? You’re acting like me before my period.”

“Shush,” he grumbled, followed by another sweltering kiss, all tongue. You felt a dribble of spit leave the corner of your mouth, sticking to the skin of your cheek. His lips moved against yours, exchanging a blistering heat. Ace always seemed to radiate warmth even on the coldest days, and his presence in this moment filled your body with a heated, lustful buzz. Goosebumps rose on your skin when he pulled away from you leaving your front exposed, gently biting your puffy lower lip with his teeth.

“How worried are you about someone messing with our things on the beach?” he asked, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

You adjusted yourself slightly below him, his knees beside your hips caging you onto the floor of his trunk. “Hmm… not too worried.”

“Perfect,” Ace replied swiftly, tugging his swim trunks down.

He had such a nice cock, perfectly shaped with a cut tip that flushed a beautiful rosy hue. A slight upward curve, lean and not too long, perfect. He was either hard for the entire time you were setting up your small spot on the sand and you hadn’t noticed, or he was fighting with every fiber in his body to keep the erection at bay. Whatever the circumstance, the fantasy of spontaneously fucking you in the trunk of his car in that sexy bikini of yours that he daydreamed about on the drive down was finally coming true.

Your hands made a move down to your hips to pull on the fabric of your bottoms before his fingers wrapped around your wrists, halting your movement.

“Sorry,” he uttered, his voice a soft whisper filled with a desperation you rarely saw from him. “Your suit stays on.”

Your mouth morphed into a grin as he released you, leaning back up on his knees and idly stroking his cock with his right hand. You parted your legs for him, making a show of smushing your breasts together under your tight top. God, your suit could have been molded onto your body, it looked so good.

“Are you going to stay there and jerk off over me, or are you going to share some of the fun?” you asked deviously, one of your hands crawling below your bottoms and teasing your clit with the slick that had built up. A pleasant, tingling flutter resonated in your belly and floated down your thighs, but nothing was better than the feeling of his fingers and cock doing the work for you.

“I want to do everything to you,” he muttered, releasing his dick from his slow ministrations. “I don’t even know where to begin.”

You watched as it bobbed in the air, so hard it held itself out away from Ace’s toned stomach. You involuntarily licked your lips at the sight. “You’re so pretty…” you muttered. You took it upon yourself to sit up, gently pushing against Ace’s shoulders to get him to sit on the trunk floor on his ass, leaning against him further to get the hint to lay down in the position you had just been in.

Neither of you had a strictly dominating or strictly submissive attitude. Rather, you mutually shared the moment, taking charge when you wanted and snatching the lead away whenever you pleased. This was one of those moments as you rotated your body on top of his, moving your ass closer to his face as one of your hands ghosted along his hip bone, your other arm supporting you and keeping you upright.

Ace got the hint almost immediately, his greedy hands groping and squeezing your ass as he pulled you downward to rest your clothed cunt against his mouth. The hotness of his breath and the feeling of his lips against your weeping pussy concealed by the polyester made your breath hitch as your lips traveled closer and closer to the tip of his dick, watching hungrily as it seemed to pulse in the air, desperate for attention.

Your boyfriend made the first move, pulling you down by your hips and resting your cunt over his mouth, his tongue forcing its way between your folds through the suit and quickly finding your clit. You gasped, your arm shaking somewhat as you quickly followed his lead, wasting no time in taking his cock into your hot, ready mouth.

And goodness, did he taste good. A familiar slightly salty musk partnered with the residual scent of his daily body spray, a vanilla and cedar flavor that always made your heart flutter in your chest. His cock might as well have been burning as you hollowed out your lips and took him further down your mouth, loving the way the organ pulsed against your tongue.

On the other end, Ace’s fingers had found their way into the fabric of your bathing suit, holding the barrier aside as two of his digits spread your natural slick over your cunt and lubricated his skin before he pressed them into your pussy, addicted to the way your muscles constricted around him. Your entrance was always on the tighter side no matter how many times you fucked, and it was absolute heaven for him. He turned the pads of his two fingers forward, pushing gently against the roof of your vagina where he knew you were acutely sensitive, and smirked to himself when your thighs clenched around his head. Your movements over his cock momentarily stuttered at the feeling of his thumb connecting with your clit to simultaneously stroke the needy bud while passionately fingering your pussy.

He knew you too well. He knew what you needed. Ace wasn’t a selfish lover, he had learned your quirks and needs very early on in your relationship. You loved your clit rubbed in somewhat slow circles, alternating between various pressures. You responded to his fingers against your g-spot, and you loved when his dick curled upward into the same area. Not too deep so as to hit your cervix, which hurt you quite a bit, but deep enough to reach those sensitive areas that had your legs shaking.

You learned quickly too, however. Ace’s tip was the most sensitive part of him, his breaths growing shallow when you delicately sucked your lips around it and trailed your tongue along the slit, collecting the small amount of salty precum that emerged from the tip. He loved it when you gently fondled his balls, rubbing the wrinkled skin between the pads of your fingers. He adored the inside of his thighs being caressed, and you tried your best to do both with one hand as the other trembling appendage fought to support your weight as you continued to blow him.

You popped off of his cock momentarily, stroking the base with your hand. “Did you have fruit recently?” you asked, turning your head somewhat to look over your shoulder. Not like you could see much.

Ace paused his motions against your pussy. “... Maybe.”

You grinned, the usually salty, bitter taste of his essence now replaced with something slightly sweeter. You wanted to egg him on, to ask him if he had planned for this to happen and eaten some pineapple or citrus with his breakfast in preparation, but you decided to keep your inquiries to yourself and return to your task of sucking him off.

Ace was content to keep fingering you, his current position in between your thighs a bit too difficult to involve his tongue, but he knew he could please you regardless. The circular movements of his calloused thumb against your throbbing clit had you sucking in sharp, lustful breaths through your nose, small whimpers leaving your throat and vibrating down his shaft making him bite his lip and stifle a wheeze. Your thighs were quivering as he continued to curl his fingers into your g-spot, following the rhythm of your lips around his cock.

After some moments, however, you quickly scrambled off of him, your hand clutching around your stomach as you pivoted above him, capturing his lips in yours. You ground your clothed cunt over his pulsing cock, keeping it locked between your pussy and his toned abdomen.

“Now who’s the desperate one?” he asked, teasingly, his signature boyish smirk traveling right back to your clit.

“I can’t help it, you’re contagious,” you huffed against the skin of his cheek.

Usually, the two of you used lube. It didn’t matter how wet you got thanks to foreplay, the sensations were always heightened when there was no risk of chafing. But clearly, you didn’t have that luxury today. Nor did you have any condoms. Instead, you bit down your thoughts, reserved yourself to spending 70 beri on the morning-after pill later that day, and hovered over his cock. You pulled your swimsuit to the side and took his dick in your hands, wasting no time in slipping it through your folds that were thoroughly drenched thanks to Ace’s expert fingers.

The first insertion always hurt somewhat. A slight, red-hot throbbing pain that radiated through your pelvis, followed by a pleasant pressure as his cock slowly intruded into your tight muscle. The groan that radiated from Ace’s throat made your pussy flutter.

That was another thing you loved about him. He was loud.

Maybe on a normal day you’d be worried about someone hearing you, or seeing the way his car shook with the force of your collective moments, but both of you had succumbed to desperation and couldn’t care less. Traumatize the elderly beach goers who might happen to walk through the gravel parking lot to their own cars.

You sunk fully down onto Ace’s hips, his dick perfectly nestled inside your wet and willing pussy as his hands tightly gripped your hips through your suit bottoms. You slowly rocked your hips, desperate for some extra friction against your clit. It was much harder with the fabric covering you, but eventually you found a movement that felt just right. Edging your hips slightly forward, you rolled your pelvis against his, dragging your clothed slit over the taught skin of his lower abdomen, moaning at the feeling of his dick pulsing within you.

Maybe you really didn’t have to worry about lube today. Every motion against the walls of your vagina had you biting your lip and arching your back over him.

Ace’s hands assisted with bouncing you on his cock, his voice slowly increasing in volume as he watched you through half-lidded as your breasts jiggled with each movement, how the fat of your belly and thighs rippled so deliciously as you gyrated above him. His voice was delectable, gruff and whiny, higher-pitched than usual with stuttering breaths and hitches in his throat that had your heart beating a mile a minute.

Your legs were growing tired, and Ace could tell. He wordlessly beckoned you off of him, being quick to lean you over the back seats and move your suit to the side again, slipping his cock back in between your folds. This angle always fit the both of you. As much as Ace loved it when you rode him, taking you from behind came with many more benefits. His free hand could travel down to dip beneath the cloth of your swimsuit and rub those delicious circles against your clit while simultaneously thrusting his desperate hips against your ass. His chest pressed into your shoulder blades, his free hand supporting him against the back of the seats as you held onto the leather for dear life, whining with each motion of his cock against your inner walls and his calloused fingers against your clit.

It didn’t take long for you to unravel, the feeling of his rough finger pads against your desperate nub too much to bear. Your orgasm approached slowly at first, filling your stomach with warmth, the insides of your eyelids flashing purple and indigo, before your body snapped and you were shuddering against Ace, moaning out loud as your pussy involuntarily clenched around his cock, your cunt feeling feather light as it fluttered. The force of your orgasm caused you to gyrate your hips back against his, weak, airy moans escaping your tongue as the red-hot pleasure radiated through your entire body leaving your pussy buzzing with the aftershocks.

Ace was barely holding it together. The force of your orgasm causing your pussy to clench around his cock had his arms weakening against the seat, his hips frantically rutting into you as sultry moans left his lips at the feeling of his cock burning inside you, begging for satisfaction. His fingers never stopped rubbing your clit, caught up in what had essentially become second nature for him. The overstimulation had you twitching around him, shallow breaths heaving from your lungs. Ace’s pace increased as did the stuttering of his hips, his thrusts growing more shallow as his own orgasm approached.

“A-Ace… fuck, baby…” you whined, dropping your forehead against the back of the seat. “You’re gonna make me cum again…”

The man was too caught up in the throes of pleasure. Calling him desperate earlier was clearly an understatement. A loud, throaty groan reverberated from his lips as his hips rapidly drilled into you, forcing you against the back of the seat. His shallow breaths only helped to fuel your second orgasm that rocked you with a sudden wash of white light behind your eyes and you were shuddering against him again, your own moans filling the stifling air of the car.

Ace barely had time to call out your name before he was thrusting disjointedly into you, crackled, weary moans leaving his lips as he came into your sore cunt, his hands pressing down onto your lower back to keep you still as he buried his cock into you, soaking you more than you already were. You felt him pull out of you, your cunt fluttering around nothing as the sound of him falling backwards against the closed door of his trunk filled your ears.

Your own spent body dropped to the side, sitting on your hip and barely holding yourself up with one hand. You slowly picked your head up, gazing at your boyfriend and assessing his condition.

Black hair mussed beyond belief, his freckled cheeks and shoulders flushed with a delicate red hue, his lips wet and swollen parted with the force of his labored breathing. His eyes were closed, jaw slack as his pelvis continued to twitch from the force of his orgasm. A few last drops of cum were bubbling from his tip, slowly dripping down his drenched dick that almost glistened, covered in your own fluids. You felt wet between your legs. It would have been a nice feeling if you weren’t already so stifling, your entire body feeling sticky. You finally noticed the way the windows had fogged up. You didn’t have time to think about carbon dioxide toxicity before Ace’s weary hand traveled up to the back window of his trunk door, blindly popping the window open a crack to let some fresh air flow into the car. The summer heat felt oddly cool against your sweaty skin.

You slowly crawled closer to Ace, ignoring the way your drenched cunt sat uncomfortably inside your bathing suit. You combed a damp strand of black hair off of his forehead before delicately pressing your lips against his cheek, encouraging him to finally open his eyes.

“You alright?” you asked, your voice low and quiet.

He finally smiled, his narrow, dark eyes filling your chest with warmth. “I think my heart almost stopped.”

You giggled, running your sweaty hand up and down his skin. “Should I wear bathing suits around you more often? I don’t think you’ve ever fucked me like that.”

Your boyfriend’s humble laughter made you grin. “For the sake of my health, you probably shouldn’t.” He finally leaned forward to press a tender kiss against your wet lips. “Though, if I were to die fucking you in a bikini, I’d die a very, very happy man.”

#x reader #reader insert #fem reader #one piece x reader #op x reader #ace x reader #portgas d ace x reader #portgas d ace #portgas ace x reader #portgas ace smut #ace x reader smut #portgas d ace x reader smut #smut #op smut #one piece smut #ace oneshot

617 notes · View notes

garfunklefield · 2 months

Text

So cute!

18+ viewer discretion is advised

Fem!reader/Megumi Fushiguro Warnings: AGED UP MEGUMIIIII, fluff, opposites attract (golden retriever reader x black cat Megumi), emo Megumi, girly reader, a very extroverted and dramatic reader be warned, awkward confession, sexual tension, public sex, exhibitionism, grinding, over the clothes grinding, dry humping, thigh riding Megumi, male whimpering, sub Megumi Word count: 3218 DESC: You confess to Megumi

I rushed this shhhhhhh

ASKS and REQUESTS are open!

You were never going to be compatible, at least that’s what everyone told you. You were loud and annoying, laughing and exclaiming your opinion every chance you got. Bubblegum pink shirts and jean miniskirts. Next to you in your college math class was the quiet and stoic Megumi Fushiguro. Wore all black, MCR shirts, and nail polish… he was emo and you were far from it. You never thought you’d ever speak to him, let alone ask him on a date that he’d accept.

You weren’t compatible. He was cold and unwavering, staring at you through every loud joke you spoke. He never laughed. He never smiled. All he did was look around like he was bored out of his mind. Then you’d say something he found utterly annoying and his signature scowl appeared, shining your way to make you feel bad. So you weren’t sure why you started to develop feelings for him. It started slowly; Your heart would flutter when you got paired up for projects, and then you found yourself scooting your chair a bit closer to him, wearing nicer perfume, and even dressing in tighter clothing. You never thought Megumi looked in your direction like that. He’d give you a once over when you asked him how your outfit was, then he’d say it was fine. Why couldn’t he look at you like that? All you wanted was Megumi to look at you and go “Oh wow”, was that too much to ask??

You found yourself pouting beside him on your shared desk, waiting for class to end. Your lips were painted with a gloss that was a light shade of pink that contrasted your skin tone, pink blush atop your cheeks, and your hair pulled back into a style that took you an hour. But no!!! He didn’t even glance in your direction. Was it never going to happen? Was it not destined to be?

Then you heard him clear his throat. It was a small noise so you didn’t turn around. But then he said your name. You turned your head too eagerly and watched his eyes narrow at your curious expression, “Why are you doing that?”

Your expression morphed into a frown at that, “Doing what?”

“That,” he motioned to the now scowl on your face, “You’ve been pouting all period. What’s with that.” He blinked a few times and frowned as well, giving you a quick once-over. His eyes only trailed to your shirt, not looking at the skirt that you had also chosen for this class period, “And you’re dressed up.”

You groaned and turned away dramatically, raising a hand, “Well excuse me if I want to look nice, Megumi! I’m just upset someone hasn’t acknowledged me is all,” your voice garnered a pointed edge, raising in volume. Of course, it did; You weren’t exactly known for being the most quiet student. A few of your peers turned their heads to watch as you over-escalated the situation, as you always did.

“You wanted me to acknowledge you,” he asked blankly, so much it didn’t sound like a question but an accusation.

“Maybe I want you to look!” You said too loudly, causing the teacher to give you both a warning glance. A few students snickered behind you and a pang of embarrassment filled your cheeks in a warm blush. Now. You were confessing now. You didn’t want to confess now! But the cards were turning that way and you couldn’t stop yourself from the words that tumbled out, “Maybe I like you, Megumi,” you continued, hushing yourself to a lower tone. But it still, as always, was loud. You could feel the eyes of every student burning holes into your skin, as they laughed and judged at the hole you dug yourself in.

Megumi blinked a few times, staring at you blankly. There was no emotion on his face aside from his typical look. Great. He was going to reject you, you knew it. He had every right too! You both weren’t compatible. It was a fact. He was too quiet for you and you were too loud for him. It would never work. And you clearly overstepped. Maybe public confessions weren’t his thing! God, if only you could hide away forever, it would do you some good.

“You…” he trailed off, “Like me? Tch…” he tilted his head to the side, a look of irritation crossing his face. He was irritated that you had a crush on him? God you just wanted to crawl into a hole and die. This wasn’t at all how you planned this day to go. You didn’t want anyone else to see or know your shame. You needed to go home and eat a tub of ice cream at this rate!

“Just get it over with,” you grumbled and raised your hand, attempting to exit this classroom, “May I go to the bathroom?” The teacher nodded and you got up, grabbing your stuff as you did so. You weren’t coming back. Not after this embarrassing moment. You were never coming back to class. You could transfer, right? Transfer schools and then skip town! Megumi watched you get up, taking in your outfit fully. Your blouse was tight and baby pink, unbuttoned a bit to show some cleavage. It was so tight if you stretched the wrong way you could see between the buttons. Then your skirt was purple, with several layers of frills. Each frill was a different shade. You had borrowed it from your mother and never returned it.

He glared in your direction, a bigger frown pulling at his lips, “So you confess then leave?”

“You’re rejecting me, of course I’m leaving!” You turned around, motioning with your free hand to him, “I’m embarrassed, Megumi. This is totally humiliating.”

“I… wasn’t rejecting you,” he looked to the side, promptly avoiding eye contact. He … wasn’t? That wasn’t possible. He didn’t say yes! He looked completely annoyed when you told him! Was that not the case? Was he just bad at expressing his own emotions? Was he secretly feeling the same way? Or was this a whole “I wasn’t rejecting you yet” situation?

“You- you weren’t?” You blinked a few times then groaned, turning around and exiting the classroom dramatically. Your coat dragged behind you, looped around your right arm. You didn’t want to have this conversation in front of the entire class, although you practically already did. It was too embarrassing! The least you could do for yourself was to walk away and hope he wouldn’t follow.

But secretly you hoped he would. You hoped he’d follow and you could continue this conversation like mature adults, even if it meant humiliating yourself even more in front of the guy you liked.

You closed the door and began to walk down the hallway. It was quiet, aside from your footsteps echoing. It was quiet, making your eyes wander around the hall. Tile floors with long columns rising and touching the ceiling. Cream-colored walls and rows and rows of awards. You were never the sporty type, so you didn’t have any awards on the wall. But you knew Megumi’s friend, Yuji, had like seven in several random sports. You then heard a door open and close behind you. It was a ways away and there were several other classrooms around you, so you didn’t think much of it. You didn’t bother to turn around.

But you heard footsteps follow you, as they got closer they became louder. Then you felt someone grab you from behind. Large arms grabbed your torso like anchors and braced you against a lankier body. A face rested against your shoulder blade, with hair brushing against your exposed skin. Your cheeks heated up at the sensation and you knew exactly who it was. Was this his way of saying he liked you back? Was this his way of confessing? In some strange way, it was kind of endearing.

Your eyes fluttered closed and a hand brushed against the two clasped around your stomach, tapping a few times, “Megumi… let go,” you mumbled, trying your best to keep your composure.

“No,” he retorted, inhaling gently. His voice was quieter than yours, barely above a whisper, and raspy. His warmth radiated from his breath and his cheeks, which were against your skin.

“I want to talk face to face,” a frown pulled at your bottom lip, which jutted out in a glossy pout.

“Too bad,” he exhaled, “Let me do this. It’s better than a sappy confession, you know.”

“Are you saying my confession was sappy?” You found yourself snapping back before a smile appeared against your frown, “…Does this mean you’re confessing?”

Megumi’s body went rigid and you felt him slowly let go. He took a bit to stand up, relishing in your scent and touch before he cleared his throat, “There's a possibility,” he spoke, watching you turn around with the same irritated expression, “That our feelings are mutual.”

You gasped and clasped your hands together, “I knew it!”

“No you didn’t,” he shook his head.

“Yeah no I didn’t,” you shrugged, “So you like me Megumi?” You grinned, letting go of your hands to twirl a loose strand of hair around your fingers. He watched with a different kind of gaze, something almost soft, as you continued, “What is it about me? Is it my eyes? My hair? My outfits?”

Dark blue eyes looked from your hand to your face, “I like your character, not your body or face.”

Ouch. So is he saying he doesn’t find you attractive at all? Your eyes widened and you let out a laugh, “Oh so the outfits did nothing…” You looked down in a newfound embarrassment at your outfit. Then at your body.

None of it? He didn’t like any of it? You could understand if he wasn’t a fashionable guy, but that wasn’t the case. Megumi was emo in every sense of the word. His hair was black and spiky, his eyes covered in a bit of smudged eyeliner, and his outfits were always on point. Maybe a mix between scene and emo… He wore studded belts with black shirts and bits of color popping out. So did he just not like your outfits at all? Were you not as fashionable as you thought?

“Well… I do like the outfits. The whole pink thing is … cute. But it’s not exactly why I like you. You have…” a fat ass? “…unshakable character.” Close enough.

“Unshakable character? So you actually like my personality? Even though we’re, like, the total opposite?” You blinked a few times then nodded, “I agree. Your personality is hot.”

Megumi didn’t expect to hear his personality or really any facet about him being hot. Since his cheeks turned a pale shade of pink. He stared at you with wider eyes than yours previously, then turned on his heel, pulling up the collar of his jacket to hide his embarrassment, “Not what I meant,” he grumbled, looking away to the side. Whenever he was flustered, you soon noticed, he just turned to look annoyed or aggravated. Rather than really embarrassed or flustered. It was cute, now that you realized what it was. So then previously, whenever you’d do or say things and he got irritated, it wasn’t that. It wasn’t that at all!!! You felt yourself becoming a bit elated at hearing that. He liked you. He really liked you! Either that or you were incredibly annoying.

“So what now?” You asked after a few moments of silence, letting go of your strand of hair to put your hands behind your back.

Megumi looked back at you and dropped his jacket collar, his eyes turning back to their regular neutral state, “What… what now?”

“Like… are we dating?” You tilted your head to the side, “I think we should. I’ve been waiting so long, and you’ve probably been waiting, I dunno, a while. It makes sense,” you explained, beginning to tilt your body side to side. The air was different now. You wanted to break the distance and kiss him, or anything that would destroy this new tension you felt in your chest. You didn’t want to hold back and keep a gap in between you two, but you did for the sake of being in public. You weren’t sure if Megumi felt the same tension, although you saw his hand flex and twitch beside him.

He nodded, “I’m fine with that.” You couldn’t help yourself, as a squeal escaped your open mouth and your arms wrapped around his waist. You pulled him into a quick and tight hug. But not tight enough to satiate the tension building in your body. Megumi looked down at you with wide eyes, but wide eyes filled with something different. You never expected him to feel sexual attraction, if you were honest. He never seemed like he expressed that kind of interest. So it surprised you when you hugged him and you felt a tent press against your lower abdomen.

Megumi Fushiguro never considered himself a pervert until he met you. Never in his life had he ever considered touching himself in public until you started wearing those tight skirts, tight jeans, and tight tops. He could see the fat of your breasts protruding out from your bra, poking through your shirt. Then the fat of your thighs, coming out from your tight jean skirts. How you’d try to pull them down but it would be no use because he could still see the plumpness of your ass.

It was a miracle you didn’t get him hard when he hugged you from behind. But you hadn’t noticed the raging hard-on after the tension began to build. You sensed it, he could see from how you looked around anxiously. Then you hugged him. You had to hug him. He tensed when his erect penis brushed against your lower body, perfectly molding against you. What he wouldn’t give to grab your ass and grind it against him. He didn’t need to be inside of you, if he could just feel you it would be enough.

“Um…” He tried to begin but his voice came out as a raspy whisper, “I’m sorry.” Were the only words he could muster out after all that silence. You pulled back for a moment and stared up at him with wide eyes. You looked so good looking up at him, he just wanted to ruin your perfect face with his cum.

“Megumi…” You spoke delicately, which completely contrasted with your typical volume. One of your hands trailed from his waist to feel around his jeans, “You’re hard huh?” A teasing edge found your voice as you pressed two fingers against the bulge in between his legs. He looked up to the ceiling for a moment, inhaling sharply and making sure he wasn’t too loud. Being noisy after only one touch? Pathetic.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed out, looking back down at you. But you weren’t looking at him. You were staring at the boner. He wished so badly he could look into your head to figure out what you were thinking. Soon you began to walk and walk, pushing him into a corner of the hallway. Megumi was frozen, a warm blush completely covering his face. Was this really happening? In public? God the thought of almost being caught was turning him on more than he wanted to admit.

“W…wait,” he whimpered, putting two hands on your hips as you spread open his legs, “What are you doing?” Megumi bit his lip, your plush leg coming in between his own. Then you started some magical dance, grinding against him in a way that perfectly rubbed his cock in his jeans. He let out a breathy gasp and leaned his head against the corner of the walls.

“Shh,” you murmured, leaning forward to rest your head against his collarbone. Two hands snaked around his neck and pulled him close. Your thigh was the only thing giving him any amount of friction and god he loved it. Megumi found himself grinding back into your legs, even if you couldn’t feel it he didn’t care. He needed to cum and he needed it to be with you.

The pleasure was building between his legs and it was getting harder and harder to keep quiet. He bit down on his lip again and whined faintly into your ear, panting like a dog from just this simple interaction. It was a weird warmth; Like he had been humping a heating pad. But he loved it. He loved it so much. He ground his hips against your chubby thigh and pulled you in tighter, just to feel your warmth.

“H-hah… f-f..fuck,” Megumi groaned, pressing his head into the crook of your shoulder and neck. He inhaled sharply before he felt himself completely unravel. The warmth got too intense and he felt himself spill into his pants. Hot cum covered his underwear as he kept grinding, whimpering, and moaning into your skin just to get his high. He rode his high on your thigh like a pathetic little bitch, begging mindlessly as he did so.

It was so hot. You two just did something sexual in public. You know how risky that is?? And you didn’t get caught! He could feel himself becoming hard again just from the thought. He needed you to cum just as much as he did. One of his hands trailed from your waist, down your skirt, and into your panties. You were already wet, of course. You tensed a bit and bit your lip, grabbing onto his shoulder to steady yourself. He couldn’t tell what you were feeling but he could see the pleasure on your face as you let him rub circles around your clit. Megumi wasn’t very experienced in this field but he did what he could, kissing along your neck just to give you more sensations. He licked one area of your skin, before gently biting down.

You gasped and pressed yourself up against him again, “M..Megumi…” You whined, resting your head back to feel the pleasure. He was working your senses, rubbing circles against your cunt in a way that made you throbbingly wet. He could feel how you lightly squelched against his palm.

“You’re so wet…” He smiled breathlessly, laughing quietly as he went back to biting the area in your neck. He wanted you to be as sensitive as he was. And he really wanted you to cum. Megumi began to speed up his fingers, massaging you with a bit of force now. It worked. You must have been aching to cum since within a few minutes you unraveled against him. You let out a tight gasp and arched your back, grinding yourself against his fingers as you came. He could feel the wetness drip onto his palm and it got him going again.

But as he went to pull his fingers out of your underwear to taste, and savor, your flavor, you both heard someone clear their throat. Megumi’s head shot up as his penis head shot down. He was staring face to face with his best friend Yuji, who was staring at the two of you with wide eyes.

“...Can I join?”

#jjk megumi #jujutsu megumi #jujutsu kaisen megumi #megumi fushiguro #megumi x reader #x reader smut #x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you #megumi smut #megumi x you #garfunklefield writing

697 notes · View notes

spider-stark · 1 year

Text

SPIDER-BOY

Pairing - Peter Parker x Reader

Summary - Thinking he has no chance with y/n as himself, Peter begins approaching them as Spider-Man.

friendly reminder - the best way to support writers on Tumblr is to reblog their work or comment <3:)

// masterlist // send me your thoughts //

Two months.

That was how long it had been since Peter first indulged in his ridiculous idea of talking to you under the guise of Spider-Man. Of course he hadn’t meant for it to last this long, promising himself that it was just to help him build his confidence–maybe even learn a bit about what kind of things you liked–so that he could actually ask you out as himself. Unfortunately, though, things hadn’t gone quite as he had planned.

Spider-Man offered him a type of courage that he just wasn’t able to muster as Peter Parker. Under the cover of his mask he was able to come across as easy-going and flirtatious, never failing to leave your cheeks a deep crimson from the playful banter. Yet, when he did manage to speak to you as plain ole’ Peter, all of that was suddenly lost on him, leaving him a complete and total bumbling mess. As far as he was concerned, Peter Parker had no chance to be what any girl wanted, especially you. But Spider-Man was a different story.

And so he continued to exploit Spider-Man, using the masked hero as a means to continue getting closer to you, pretending to be oblivious to the fact that he wouldn’t be able to hide behind his secret identity forever. To be fair, he would rationalize to himself, Spider-Man had taken a lot from him, it was only fair that he got something in return.

Plus, the interactions had been mostly innocent. Or at least that’s what he kept telling himself, opting to ignore the many times that coy attitudes began to border on actual sexual attraction. He tried not to think about those times (though there had been many nights where he purposely let those interactions slip into his mind, reliving them from the privacy of his bedroom), instead just promising himself that he wouldn’t let his romantic escapades as Spidey go too far.

“So,” your voice filled his ears, his heart skipping a few beats at the sound, “at what point should I start to wonder if you’re stalking me?”

Peter chuckled at the question, his fingers gripping the railing of the balcony to your apartment, effortlessly hanging from it. “Do you feel like I’m stalking you?”

“Hm,” you placed a finger against your chin, pretending to be deep in thought, evoking even more laughter from the boy. “Maybe a bit.”

“Oh yeah? What did I do to give that impression?”

“Well, to be fair, you’re currently dangling a couple hundred feet in the air off the side of my balcony.” You told him matter-of-factly, gesturing to where he was still hanging from the railing.

His brows furrowed beneath his mask, an expression that was barely noticeable due to the fabric covering his face. “And that makes me a stalker? I thought you’d find it romantic, a sort of Romeo-and-Juliet moment.”

“Romeo threw pebbles at her window, he didn’t scale an entire apartment building dressed in spandex.” You reminded him, “But, actually, it’s more so that I don’t remember ever giving you my address.”

Peter froze for a moment, having not thought about the fact that your previous run-ins with Spider-Man had always been in public spaces–catching you after work or just happening to bump into you on the street while patrolling–never at your home. He only knew where you lived because you had told him, but as Peter Parker, not Spider-Man, when the two of you were assigned to a project together last week. He mentally face-palmed at his own ignorance.

“Superheroes keep up with where all the pretty girls live. One of the lesser-known parts of the job.” He quipped, hoping that flattery would keep you from thinking too much into it. You only rolled your eyes at the comment, luckily not pressing any further.

“So what did I do to deserve a surprise Spidey visit this time?” You hummed, leaning back against the cold brick of your apartment building.

Peter hoisted himself over the edge of the balcony so that he was standing across from you, his arms finally beginning to ache from holding up his bodyweight for so long. “What, I’ve gotta have a reason to stop by and see my favorite civilian?”

“Civilian?” You snorted. “And here I was thinking you and I were friends.”

He dramatically placed his hands on either side of his face, feigning shock at your words, “Oh God no! You and me? Friends?” he let his hands fall to his waist, an exaggerated breath leaving his mouth, “No, not at all. I think that would be a conflict of interest.”

You cocked a brow at him, “How so?”

“I mean–I just think it would really interfere with our whole superhero slash damsel-in-distress routine, ya know?”

“Damsel-in-distress?” You gasped incredulously at the claim, though the corners of your mouth were still quirked up in a smile.

Peter nodded, “Uh, yeah. That’s literally our whole thing, isn’t it? You constantly running into trouble, me swinging in and saving your life.”

“You haven’t had to save my life once Spider-Boy.” Peter scoffed at the name, acting like he was insulted.

“Oh c’mon!” Peter dragged the word out, practically whining as he took a fraction of a step towards you, the movement enough to leave only a few inches between the both of you due to how small the balcony was. “You are literally always getting yourself into danger.”

“Okay,” You crossed your arms over your chest, craning your neck so that you could actually look up at him, the masked vigilante having several inches on you, “give me an example then.”

Peter rolled his eyes, a gesture only evident by the dramatic way his head moved along with them. He reached a gloved hand to your face, letting his fingertip gently brush against the semi-healed cut along your forehead. “You literally got this by tripping over your own shoes and banging your head against the counter at a coffee shop. Not to mention the fact that you spilled your entire coffee on yourself in the process.” He trailed away from the cut, moving to brush a stray hair behind your ear. He didn’t take his hand away, though, letting it rest against the side of your face. “You are always in danger because you are the danger.”

Your eyes widened for a moment, so quick that he didn’t even notice the reaction. He was right, you had done that, an unfortunate consequence of being the clumsiest person alive. But, still, his words left you confused; remaining silent for just a moment as you turned them over in your head. When you finally opened your mouth to speak you were cut off by the sound of distant sirens, a groan immediately coming from him, knowing that your interaction would now be cut short.

His thumb brushed against your cheek, acting as an unnecessary silent apology.

“Sounds like somebody needs Spider-Man.” You told him as he let his hand fall from your skin, forcing himself to the railing. If he didn’t go now, he wouldn’t leave at all. “You better hurry, it could be one of those pretty girls you keep tabs on.” You shot a teasing grin in his direction, referencing his earlier comment.

“Ugh, they just never give me a day off.” He joked, swinging his feet over the balcony railing before gripping onto it and allowing himself to once again hang from it. “Try not to trip into anything dangerous until I’m back.”

He turned his head and reached one hand out, likely to shoot a web at the building across from yours, but hesitated when he heard you speak again, a sudden panic filling his body at your words, “Be safe, Parker.”

The sirens continued blaring, growing closer with each second, but all he could hear was the sound of his own heart wildly thumping against his chest. “What?” He sounded completely dumbfounded, his head slowly turning back to look at you, only to find you standing with your own finger pointing to the cut he had traced on your forehead, a wide grin on your face.

“Spider-Man wasn’t there the day that I fell.” You shot a knowing glance in his direction, one that had his cheeks heating up. He had never been more thankful to be wearing a mask, aware that his face was likely beet red. “I asked Peter to meet me there so I could borrow his biology notes.”

Peter didn’t speak, too stunned by his own stupidity for slipping up and not thinking about how he was there that day as himself, not Spider-Man. This time you were the one to take a step forward and close the gap between you, having to lean down just a bit in order to be face-to-face as he dangled from the railing.

“You’re a lot more confident in the suit.” You mused, your hands finding the base of his mask, lightly tugging the material up to reveal his face. Even though it was dark out you could still see that he was blushing. “But I prefer you without it.”

His jaw fell slack, words getting caught in his throat as a million thoughts raced through his mind, though one thought in particular was a lot louder than the rest: I prefer you without it.

“You should definitely go.” The sirens were now close enough that you could actually see the faint red-and-blue lights a few streets over. He looked in the direction of them but still didn’t make a single move to leave. You seemed to recognize his hesitation, tugging the mask back down over his face. “If you ever remember how to talk then you can come back when you’re done. But ditch the mask.”

Peter nodded at your words, his eyes remaining glued to you as you straightened back up, turning your back to him to go back inside your apartment–leaving him to go off and be a hero. Once you were inside he couldn’t help but laugh, shaking his head as he forced himself to get into motion, swinging in the direction of the police lights.

Turns out Peter Parker did have a chance.

#peter parker imagine #peter parker blurb #peter parker headcanons #tasm peter parker imagine #tasm peter x reader #andrew!peter fanfiction #peter parker fluff #andrew!peter fluff #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #spiderman imagine #spiderman fanfiction #tasm fanfiction #tasm fic #spiderman fic #mcu imagine #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfiction

4K notes · View notes