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un-lawliet · 9 months

Note

Hellooo hope ur having a good day! Can I request the first years founding out about Y/N being Gojo’s girlfriend and Megumi is not surprised at all LOL they’re literally his parents. <333

(THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST I ADORE THIS TROUPE THANK YOU THANK YOU i hope this is ok :)))) )

“Not So Secret.”

— In which the first years want to find out what is distracting their teacher, and Megumi is fed up.

“This is stupid.”

“Shut up Megumi!”

It was stupid.

It was stupid that Nobara and Yuji were peering through a crack in the door using each-other to balance as they both held awkward positions to see, fixated on catching the conversation that their teacher was having over the phone, in what Itadori coined as the “Secret Mission”.

“This is the fourth time he’s stopped teaching to answer his phone.” Yuji whispers, raising his finger to rest on his chin, his eyebrows scrunched in conviction.

“Exactly!” Nobara adds, whipping her head to look at Megumi eyes narrowed, crossing her arms, “It’s weird.”

They should be training, their weapons left abandoned in the training yard. It was Nobara’s idea to follow the white haired sorcerer, and Yuji had dragged Megumi along, despite his complaints, claiming, with a look of acute determination, that this was far, far more important than any training.

Satoru Gojo was an enigma to even those closest to him, his actions seemingly devoid of a will or want for understanding. His borderline erratic nature is what made this new repeated routine of ditching the first years for a something so benign as a phone call so inanely baffling.

“S’not that weird.” Megumi mumbled, because it wasn’t, because despite his constant affirmation that he was forced into a family with Gojo, he knew the man, and he knew who Gojo was calling.

The way the man’s entire face lit up when he glanced at his ringing phone, how he practically skipped out of the classroom without a second glance to his precious students.

His glee was palpable.

Gojo was on the phone with you…obviously.

“Itadori move I can’t see!”

“Huh? Aren’t we supposed to be listening???”

“Yes! But I can’t hear anything over your stupid breath in my ear, back up!”

“But then how am I gonna hear!?”

They were being way too loud, Gojo could absolutely sense them, even without his six eyes, and Megumi couldn’t understand why their teacher was pretending not to notice.

—“Maybe if you stopped talking we would actually hear something!” Itadori huffed.

“You stop talking!”

“No, I think I’ll talk plenty.”

“Megumi.” Nobara hissed, both her and Yuji now staring at him, “Take this idiot away please.”

“Both of you are being loud y’know?” Megumi deadpanned.

And they both glared at him indignantly.

“Well at least we’re trying!” Itadori frowned, “You’re standing so far back, there’s no way you can hear from there.”

Megumi could easily tell them, at this point he was considering it just to get them to stop this God awful attempt to spy.

But honestly? It was too warm outside to train and Megumi the was not in the mood to sweat today, and with Gojo distracted he could guarantee at least ten more minutes where he could relax.

When he had first moved in with Gojo, he remembers how the man paced around his apartment, practicing ways in which to tell you he’d basically adopted two children, on a random evening without telling you first.

Megumi recalls how Tsumiki had giggled, a sweet smile of her face, and asked if you were his girlfriend to which Gojo began to gush about you.

Your hair, your eyes, the way you laughed at his jokes, Gojo had shared every little detail about you, only freezing when Megumi insisted, “So, she isn’t your girlfriend then?”

“It’s complicated, you wouldn’t get it.” Gojo had glared, hands on his hips as he muttered “Brat” under his breath.

And Megumi held back a grin.

Now, almost ten years later, you had practically become a Mother to Megumi, doting on him and Tsumiki without question.

You were a teacher in Jujitsu Tech, just like Gojo, only you took the second year students under your wing, and you adored teaching them.

Every mission you came back from, you came with pretty bows to match Tsumikis hair, and when Megumi started using his technique you were his biggest cheerleader, bringing his demon dogs treats, and patting his head with shiny eyes, weeping about how proud you were of him.

And at some point the white haired idiot managed to finally grasp your affections, Megumi doesn’t know how or when but he does remember over hearing Gojos obnoxious laugh after he kissed you when he assumed nobody else was home.

Brazenly declaring his love for you in which you bashfully reciprocated, leaning into him with a giggle.

“You’re laughing.” Gojo had said, “I told you a joke and you’re laughing, I love you.”

And Megumi ignored how he had to hold back a smile, refusing to acknowledge the warm feeling of family that resonated in his chest.

He was good at playing oblivious.

“How is someone so loud so hard to hear?!” Nobara was back to pressing her ear against the door, ignoring the two boys. “I mean seriously it’s like he’s not even there!”

He probably wasn’t, Megumi thinks, Gojo likes to mess with people, he would never give up this opportunity to tease his students.

Nobara was facing them again, her eyes crinkled with mischief, before she’s gesturing to Yuji.

“Itadori, come here.”

“What? Didn’t you just say to back up?”

…

“Come here.”

“Ok.”

Megumi watched, amused as Yuji made his way back to her, oblivious to the devilish look in her eye.

“Now what? I can’t hear anything either you know, so what do you-”

Itadori yelped as Nobara pushed him through the door, a charming “Of you go!” on her lips.

Both she and Megumi jumped to each side of the door, shielding themselves from the eyes of anyone who was in the room as Itadori groaned.

“The hell Kugisaki? You could have just asked me to go in, I would have done it!” He pouted, rubbing his head.

Nobara rolled her eyes, “Is he there you idiot?”

“Is who- Wait huh???”

Nobara moved to look into the room, trailing Megumi behind her, curiosity getting the better of her.

The room was empty, a door leading to the back of the school hanging open, Itadori stood, his mouth open as he pointed furiously.

“Is that Y/N?” He gasped, his eyes shining with disbelief.

And Nobara glanced over, her eyes widening as she watched you kiss Gojo on the cheek, the pair of you holding hands as Gojo ate an ice cream that you must have brought back with you.

“Y/N and Gojo? Gojo and Y/N?” Nobara and Yuji were speechless.

“Megumi look, look!” Itadori grabbed Megumis shoulder and yet again, Megumi found himself being dragged against his will.

Gojo was looking at you, a ridiculous smile painting his features, as you fussed over him, readjusting his blindfold, so you could see his pretty eyes.

“There you are.” You sighed, your voice light as he winked at you.

“How was the mission hm? You’re back early.” Gojo mused, a hand reaching up to pinch your cheek, pulling it slightly, “Someone’s getting stronger.”

“Would you rather I stayed away longer?” You teased, swatting his hand away.

“Nah, how would I get ice cream during a hard days work without you.” And you gasped, your eyes flitting over his face.

“I completely forgot! You’re teaching I’m sorry oh my God-”

You’re cut off by his laughter, leaning down to whisper cheekily in your ear, “Look behind you baby.”

And you did, your eyes widening as you see Gojo’s first year class poorly hiding, observing the pair of you.

“Ah.” You sighed, then your eyes widened “Wait Gumi’s there too?”

Gojo pulled you back to look at him, nodding “He’s really opening up huh? I knew he would~”

You nod, opening your mouth to reply, before you were suddenly interrupted by Nobara and Itadori’s horrified exclamation;

“YOU KNEW??”

And as you heard Megumi’s groan, trying to silence his stupid friends, you and Gojo both laughed, leaning into each other, enjoying the company.

the end.

masterlist here <3

(A/N : i love writing nobara, she’s lit my fave character after Gojo i think- BUT also i love hana i hate that people hate her because she’s a “nobara replacement” she ISNT leave her alone!!!)

ANYWAY THANK U FOR THE REQUEST I HOPE THIS IS WAS OK :))

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #jjk leaks #gojo satoru x reader #jjk manga spoilers #jjk nobara #yuji itadori #jujutsu megumi #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk itadori #jjk megumi

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bluebellhairpin · 1 month

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Romantic - cw; 141 + alejandro (bc those are all my boys <3) short sappy fluff, marriage mentions. Just me putting some daydream thoughts out to the void <333

Soap is romantic in that he draws you. He has a whole shelf full of old sketchbooks and half of them are filled with you. From mindless, messy doodles to works that took hours. Charcoal and graphite. With his hands he conveys to paper your beauty, and his love is seen in every stroke.

Gaz is romantic in that he always buys you flowers. From single roses to bouquets of carnations, barely three days go by without flowers in your home. Each one seems to speak volumes. He keeps them all, hanging them to dry in the garden shed. He's waiting for one bouquet in particular to join them.

Price is romantic in that he's always ready with a helping hand. You can do things on your own, sure, but he's always letting you know he's there. He always offers. Meals, cooking. cleaning, groceries. he's your shadow - because he cannot have you working yourself too hard.

Alejandro is romantic in that he plays you music. He hadn't touched a guitar in a long time until you moved in together, but he decided to play it once more before it would've gone back to a corner to collect dust. When he saw how your shoulders relaxed, and how you swayed when you recognized the song, that guitar never got dusty again.

And Ghost. The unreadable enigma. Ghost is romantic in that he writes about you. A single notebook stashed away in some dark corner holds his deepest secrets - poems that are all about his love for you. They're sweet, gentle, and they're passionate. Someday he'll read them to you, when he finally write one he thinks is good enough. In reality the first you hear isn't a poem at all. They're vows.

Remember to support your favourite writers! If you liked reading it, reblog it <3

#cod headcanons #john mactavish headcanons #kyle garrick headcanon #john price headcanons #alejandro vargas headcanons #simon riley headcanons #soap x reader #gaz x reader #price x reader #alejandro x reader #ghost x reader

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bunniesanddeer · 2 months

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HI <333

I was wondering if you could write an Alastor X insomnia!reader where like she wakes up in the night and overall just can’t get good sleep? And maybe she wanders around the hotel until she finds Alastor bc he doesn’t sleep often, and he offers to like go to bed with her and they cuddle? If you don’t want to that’s fine :)

Hi! I hope this is what you wanted? I like the way it turned out, even if it is really short.

Insomnia

Pairing: Alastor X Insomniac!Reader

Tags: Fluff, slight angst, insomnia, soft Alastor

Word Count: 966

Sleep has always dazed you. Some nights, it would wrap you up in its arms, embracing you like an old lover, and other nights, it shunned you entirely. Tonight, sleep left you cold and lonely in your bed, your thoughts your only company.

Your room was silent. It was that silence that made you vividly aware of the rushing of your blood in your ears. It made your skin itch. Eventually you got too restless, and sat up in bed. Your nightgown rode up on your thighs, and it drew your attention to your legs. Your claws lightly scratched the skin there, trying to think of a solution to your problem.

You heave a sigh, and decide that grabbing some water might help. (You hated the taste of water, in Hell. It all tasted like slightly dirty tap water. It was awful. But then again, you were in Hell).

The halls are quiet, the soft patter of your footsteps the only sound. You quietly make your way down to the first floor, and you intend on heading to the kitchen, when a light in the sitting room catches your attention.

Alastor is sitting in one of the lounge chairs, reading a book. The lamp closest to him was turned on, casting his face in a warm light. He looked softer, this way. You stood there, watching him for several moments.

Alastor had been an enigma to you since you arrived in Hell. You had gone to the Hotel quite soon after your descent, so you didn’t know much about Overlords and how they worked. You knew that Alastor was one, but he had always been gentle enough with you, so the idea didn't scare you at all. He made you feel things that unsettled you. Your skin itched in his presence, and your heart fluttered. Every inch of you filled with a bizarre joy when he smiled at you. And no, not his normal smile. There were times, when he wasn’t really focusing, that his smile softened at the edges, and his pupils grew wide and locked on you.

There was so much you didn’t understand about Hell, or yourself, but this crush you had on him felt like it was growing out of hand.

Alastor’s thoughts jarred you from your thoughts.

“What are you doing awake, dearest?” His voice was gentle, and his static was a mere murmur. His red eyes were watching you.

You sighed. “I can’t sleep. Feels like I haven’t in a while,” you say, while striding over to him. His eyes flicker over your form, his eyes snapping to meet yours when he notices your attire.

“Ah. I have been in much the same position before. I have come to find that not sleeping at all is the solution!” He laughs a little, but it trails off after a moment. “You do look dreadfully tired, my dear.”

“Ha. Thanks, Al. Just what a gal wants to hear,” you say, gently teasing. You can’t help but feel that exhaustion seep into your bones at his words, though. You are tired, and that feeling has come to you far too often.

His expression softens further, and he looks nearly sympathetic. It makes you feel something akin to discomfort, so you flick your gaze away. The wall looks incredibly interesting.

You hear the soft thud of his book closing, and then the shifting of fabric as he moves. “Come along, dear. Let us get into bed. Perhaps a bedmate will bring you enough ease to sleep.”

Your head whips around and up, so that you can look at him. He has to be joking. “You can’t be serious.”

One of his hands cups your cheek. “Come. You need sleep, and I might as well indulge. It has been some time.”

You wonder at his ease and the situation, and it makes you follow him, wordlessly. One of his hands clasps at yours, his claws carefully gripping, avoiding harm with dexterity. He leads you back to your room, and you are sure he has played some mean trick on you. He, instead, leads you inside, and gestures for you to lie down.

Alastor glances around the room briefly, before snapping his fingers. He’s in pajamas now.

“Ah, that makes me jealous. I wish I could do that,” you whisper. You don’t know why you do, but it feels like it would be weird to speak any louder.

His laugh is soft, and it makes your chest warm. Without any preamble, he lies in bed beside you, and pulls you in against him. You are both lucky the beds in the hotel are so large, because he’s much bigger than you. (Part of you wouldn’t mind, though. It would just require him to curl around you… you need to stop thinking).

Alastor lets one hand settle on your back, and gently rub there. Your head settles against his chest, and you can hear the heavy drumming of his heart. You feel like you’re dreaming. How can any of this possibly be real? Your relationship with him was in such a peculiar place, and you didn’t have any footing. You were so worried he was going to trip you up and let you fall, any minute.

Your heart starts pounding. As always, your overactive mind makes things hard for you.

Alastor’s hand squeezes you down. “Stop thinking, sweetheart. We can talk about this tomorrow. Just sleep.”

So, focusing on the heat he gives off, and the weight of the blanket he pulls around you, you force yourself to relax. Your mind slows, and everything settles.

You fall asleep in the arms of Alastor, who lets his eyes close for more than a moment, for the first time in a long while. And the two of you sleep.

I hope you liked! Remember, my asks are open, it just might take me a little while to get to them. I have two more requests I am working on right now. One of them is similar to my "Touch" works, and another is based on the hallway scene in "Dad Beat Dad".

Have a good weekend, everyone!

#alastor x reader #hazbin alastor #bun's short fics #hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor fanfiction #alastor x you #fluff #hazbin hotel fanfiction #insomnia

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lilambs · 2 years

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soft! eddie

fucked out! reader

basically missing the feeling of eddie being inside of you after a couple of rounds, him rubbing ur clit to calm you as he positions himself to let you cock warm him <\333

as always! i am new to writing! please bare with me guys <3

“hey hey hey look at me sweetheart, there we go. hi. where’d you go honey?” he murmurs softly, voice laced with admiration.

you whined softly, pushing your head into his shoulder.

eddie couldn’t help but chuckle, you truly were an enigma to him. “you’re always so shy after i’ve already fucked your brains out baby.”

“you’re so pretty. let me see my pretty girl, really hit the jackpot with you huh sweetheart.” he insisted.

by now his middle finger was rubbing gentle yet relentless circles against your poor aching clit, calming your nerves.

tears began to fill your eyes to the very brim, a mixture of eddie’s cum and your warm smooth slick pouring from your cunt.

“want you..” you tried crying out, your tone increasing with desperation and want.

eddie grinned, cock twitching at the sound of absolute neediness in your voice. using his free hand he started to pull at your waist, positioning you against his hips.

he starts to sink his cock inside of your already overstimulated cunt, grunting softly at the feeling of you constricting around him.

hearing your tiny helpless whimpers; he left gentle kisses on your shoulder, muttering an endless amount of apologies.

your legs were exhausted from the amount of shaking and twitching you were doing beforehand.

tears were tracking your peach-like cheeks, while your nails were digging into his arm as he tries to get comfortable.

“you’re okay honey, see? eddie’ll always take care of his girl yeah? his little princess.” he whispered against your neck, a puff of his breath hitting you.

while all of this was going down, eddie never once stopped the tender circular motion against your pudgy clit, raw from satiation.

he used the other hand the rub your tummy, grinning at the feeling of his bulge interrupting him from smoothly rubbing up and down.

he placed a gentle kiss onto your shoulder blade, lulling you.

#soft!eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #daddy!eddie munson #eddie x reader #eddie x y/n #eddie x you #bimbo!reader #daddy!eddie #eddie munson fluff #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #stranger things smut #eddie smut

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ladybirdswritings · 5 months

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Silken Webs & Pirouettes - Miguel O’Hara x Reader

Summary - Miguel is forced to dwell over the consequences of his own actions. Ballerina!Reader & CEO!Miguel. Alternate Universe with most of the characters included as seen in "Across the Spiderverse." Many cameos ahead. Miguel is a successful business owner but personality is canon. This is a steamy reader insert, Miguel x You! Enjoy and pls leave me lots of love and comments as it keeps me motivated <333

next chapter

seven ,, miguel’s POV

“You have some cojones, Miguel O’Hara.”

My eyes slowly lift from the place where they were once glued, the small tree. It still stands, the shattered and jagged bite of glass the most unavoidable ornament. Right in the enter for my eyes to see.

It’s been a week, one week of plain, suffocating normality. No clumsy girl, no doe eyes that I can only seem to fill with tears. No intimidating someone who I can’t guess the reaction of, no excitement.

My girls must feel it too. Maybe they liked having those stupid ribbons and pearly white smile bouncing around the office. Maybe they liked the distraction. Too bad. It’s better this way…

“Jessica, mi amor— though I always enjoy your visits in with me-”

She raises a suspicious brow at my words but I continue before she takes the first chance she can to interrupt me, as always…

“Today isn’t the day.” It really, truly fucking isn’t.

I sound apathetic, unbothered. Truthfully, I am bothered. I am bothered because it's been a week and yet I feel this uncomfortable burning at my mind. It’s inhuman, unnatural. I’ve yelled at dozens before, girls even sweeter than her. Girls with pretty eyes and pouty lips, melting into expressions of horror and sorrow. It was expected, needed. They needed to become better, to not be weak.

So why the fuck do I feel like I was in the wrong this time?

Jessica, coiled locks tamed back with a headband and stomach protruding with her soon to be first-born, she huffs as she sits down on my corner chair.

“This still work?” She asks. Stupid question. I regard her with dark, annoyed eyes and a single nod. She immediately presses the button, then heat and vibrations engulf her. She moans in content, enjoying the ease of tension in her back from carrying that child around.

“Oh yeah, it does. God I love this thing.” Her voice is vibrating.

Good, she should. It’s for her anyways. There’s no other moody, bossy and inhumanly hungry pregnant woman in sight. Gracias a Dios. Me mataría.

She’s distracted, I believe for a second that maybe I’ve just been saved by that expensive fucking chair but oh no, lately I’m just proving to be an unlucky bastard. She talks again.

“Where was I… oh yeah, that’s the problem, Miguel. It’s never the day with you. But shit, when I get curious and decide to check those security tapes and see you caging a small girl against the wall and making her hunch over in fear? Today is gonna have to be the day. What the fuck happened to morale? Why couldn’t you take it out on Moon, on someone we know, at least.” She doesn’t understand, I don’t expect her to.

I narrow my eyes, lifting from my seat. I don’t like being on her level. I feel suffocated there, with all these questions. Boss of my own empire and yet I’m getting an inquisition by a woman I hired. Regardless, my mind is clearer when I stare out at the city, looking down at all those people. I feel big, powerful. Like I know everything. I do, mostly. This time though? I don’t.

Me está volviendo loco.

And that’s because of that fucking girl. Es un misterio, un enigma. Never in my life have I sat across from someone I don’t fucking understand. I didn’t get this successful from not understanding the idiots around me, no. But her? I didn’t expect the dramatics.

“I don’t always like what I have to do, but I know I have to be the one to do it. Involving my personal life into her work is not only inappropriate but it is disrespectful.” I sound uninterested, lazed with my words. I know Jessica, they won’t be enough for her.

“You know what’s inappropriate? Your employees watching Lacy walk into your office in shorts that barely cover her nonexistent ass. You think they don’t know you’re banging her in between meetings?”

My jaw ticks, and I exhale all the air from my lungs through my nose.

“I know they know.”

I do. I do and I don’t give a shit what they think. I have urges, needs. No, not wants. Needs. Uncontrollable, demanding. My eyes glaze over my window, memories of fucking Lacy here with her pretty tits hung for the world to see. The thought brings me peace.

Jessica leans forward or tries too with that protruded stomach of hers.

“Oh you do. Okay, right. So that’s okay but a picture of Gabby isn’t?”

Gabby.

Mi princesa.

The name is like the crown on Medusa’s head. But I don’t let it freeze me, no. I don’t let it stop me from moving. Working. Breathing. Reacting. I react. I react before it can stop me and if that stupid girl would’ve done as she was told, she wouldn’t have had to be on the other side of those reactions.

I hate it.

Fucking hate it when they utter her name. Jessica… she’s lucky she’s pregnant and lucky she’s Jessica because coño, I would case her up against the wall too if she wasn’t.

“No, Jessica. It’s not okay. Lacy equates to a fucking— masseuse.” I snap.

“She’s massaging something alright.” She interjects.

“Carajo.” I exhale, reaching angrily at my silk handkerchief and tossing it with force to the leather loveseat. There’s no winning with her. Back in my throne, I collapse.

She’s infuriating, and she’s lecturing me over a girl that was only here for a week and has already caused so much trouble. Me está dando vueltas la cabeza.

“What is it Jessica, huh? What— are you dumbstruck by her stupid ribbons and worn-out clothes too?” It’s the only explanation for this. The girl must be a witch.

She sucks her teeth at that,

“Nope. I never even met the girl. Seems like it’s you that’s dumbstruck.”

Me?

That thought… it’s stupid.

My fists clench, a sting of pain burning at the place where she dug those nails into me. There’s skin dented there.

“Cállate.” I warn. But she’s Jessica. She’s not Mary Jane, not Cindy or any of my other obedient girls. Es un dolor de cabeza.

To no surprise, she does anything but shut the fuck up.

“Look, I could give less of a shit if your dick does a dance for her or not—”

“Dios mío…” She’s gone crazy.

“My point is— we don’t know her. We don’t know her, and she could talk. She could tell the story of how you emotionally and fuck— almost physically assaulted her to the Bugle and then what?”

I shake my head at that. She’s fucking wrong.

“I would never put my hands on her.” Not her. Not any woman.

Jessica displays two defeated palms up in the air, annoyance laced in their lines.

“But ya did, Miguel. You did when you grabbed her chin. And wether you and I know that it was softly or not, it doesn’t fucking matter. It’s about what they believe, what they see and you look psychotic on that tape.”

I turn my face from her, grinding my teeth as I search my mind for a way to answer back. To explain.

I can’t. I can’t and it makes me angrier.

“You’re not invincible, Miguel. People get tired of your shit and we agreed. We agreed that if you kept the reins on your issues, it would be enough. You don’t have to come to the gatherings or the holiday meetings. They know you don’t give a shit about any of them-”

“They’re employees.” I interrupt. Their job is to follow my orders and keep smiles on their pretty faces. That is morale.

“Yeah, they’re employees and they don’t get paid enough to deal with your shit.”

My eyes say it all, she knows that’s not true. Their checks are full. My girls have paid off debt, bought houses, taken vacations and bought all their materialistic heart desire. Some within their first year with me. Jessica sighs, shaking her head at my stubbornness. Silence blankets us and I fucking prefer it that way.

“My point is that people can walk, Miguel. They can walk when they aren’t happy. When they read the outsiders input on your bad behavior. Nobody wants to work for an asshole and fuck, I don’t blame her for walking out. Actually, I respect her for it. The girl’s shoes are practically falling off of her feet and she’s wearing skirts in the winter, yet it looks like she’d rather starve on those ice-cold New York City streets than work for someone who spits on her effort and time.”

Her words strike me silent. It seems like Jessica Drew is the only one who can make me have nothing to say. Què maravilla. I won’t admit that it’s because she’s right. She isn’t.

…

She might be.

My silence, it prompts her to continue. She shuts the seat off, groaning as she stands to her feet. She waddles to me, one hand on my cherrywood desk as she bows her head to speak to me.

“Look, I know this shit isn’t easy. I get that. You and I? We’re day ones. Peter and I watched you build this company up from the ground. We watched you make something of yourself. The bastard kid out of Nueva York turned into the bastard man above it. And I- … I lost her too, Miguel. Lost her. I didn’t forget her, and I sure as fuck don’t want to run from her. If someone was so fucking kind enough to put effort into making me that—”

Her eyes glow golden as they fall upon the small tree, on the shattered ornament with that beautiful, delicate smile. My girl. Against my own will, I find myself stuck, gazing at it too.

“Shit, maybe I’d promote them. That? That’s special, it’s kind. Most people don’t have the guts to do that, especially not for a boss— let alone a new one… but as always, you’ve laid down the cement on yet another grave. No chance in hell she comes back, no chance we fix this before Jameson gets his dirty hands on it.”

Jameson. Maldito cerdo.

It was his men that he sent out that day. All of them gathered up on my doorstep like fucking vultures, flashing their lights at the place where my baby girl just— fuck...

He was a lucky son of a bitch that day. I would’ve snapped that cockroach’s neck if it weren’t for Murdock.

Fuck…

I don’t like loose ends. No, I don’t like being wrong. I strive every day of my life to be anything but it. I was wrong once. And look what it cost me? My baby’s life. I won’t make the same mistake again. Not with my company.

Sure as hell not because of the balding bastard and a delicate girl with ribbons in her hair.

No.

“I’ll convince her.” I will. I’ll mail her check with a note attached. An invitation back. Maybe I’ll raise her pay. She could use it, anyway.

But Jessica fucking Drew. Always finding microscopic holes in my plans. She laughs at me.

She fucking laughs at me as she straightens her back, hands resting on the place where her baby kicks.

“Sure, good luck with that. She might’ve hunched over and cried but damn— I saw the way she dug those nails into you. She’s a tough one… besides, I think it’s best If you keep away. Don’t wanna make their new front cover story more interesting.”

Que mierda.

I raise my hand, pinching at the place where tension pools between my brows. Fucking Jessica. Analytical, frustrating, and always convinced she’s right.

She is tough… that girl. Un fuego.

I saw it when she sat in my chair and dug her nails into it, and I saw it when she dug her nails into me. I saw it when she pushed my hand away, straightened up and wiped those tears off her pretty face like they were nothing more than meaningless water on her skin. She turned her back on me. No one ever does. No one has ever not succumbed to my hand. And she’s lucky, I never offer comfort to any of the girls I yell at. No, they don’t need it. They’d accept it, regardless. Not her.

Un enigma.

Jessica sighs, turning from me and finally leaving me to be. Leaving me with no solutions, only loose ends. She must feel my eyes burning holes into her back. Frustrated fucking holes. She stops.

Carajo.

I sigh now, allowing my eyes to fall shut into the comfort of darkness. A place behind my lids where no Jessica Drew exists.

“There’s another gathering tonight, actually. Perfect way to win your people back before you even lose them.”

She’s smiling, she’s proud of her stupid little idea. I don’t need to open my eyes to see it. The ache in my neck makes my head fall into my palms— and though every part of me wants to tell her to get out?

“What time, Jessica?”

🏷️’s: @reirain @needybitez @migueloharastruelove @laysmt @maomaimao @daisy-artfield @poutysprouty @chorizobeets @luvlylaurakisses @to-the-endoftheline @bimb00

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thesmpisonfire · 2 months

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I'm sooo 🥺🥺 over Mike and Bagi

How she found out Mike had to build his own place when a kid and immediately felt like shit for him and made sure he remembered she is there for him, how Mike tried his best to help Bagi with Empy by showing her the birds and taking a little special time with Richas to make the gift something very specific to her with the enigmas

And now Bagi giving 7k coins so Mike can buy Create and she was thriving seeing how happy he was with that

Bagi ending her stream with "At least I made my family happy" and raiding Mike

They're so <333 i love Karl&Marx so much

#qsmp

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merakiui · 6 months

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PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE RAMBLE ON ABOUT JADE AND HIS MONSTROUS LOVE 🥺🥺🥺 ABOUT HIM EATING YOU WHOLE BECAUSE HE LOVES YOU SO MUCH

No part of you will go to waste, he'll cook you thoroughly and cherish every single bite. After all, a way to a man's heart is through his stomach, and you're certainly going that way. Then once you're fully digested, you'll become parts of his flesh, the blood that runs through his veins. The both of you will never be apart again <333

(I was also thinking of another route where he'll just shrink you down, chewing and poking at you playfully with his tongue, before swallowing you whole, keeping you safe in his tummy forever. I don't know what's the line that separates cannibalism and vore, aren't they sort of the same?)

Anyway, Yandere Jade who thinks with his stomach expresses his love thru cannibalism(❁´◡`❁)

HE IS SO.......... WWAAAAAAAA OTL my favorite murder eel who can shock my heart anytime he wants. I want to write a lot about the concept of monstrous love and the different types of hunger and how they apply to Jade with his big appetite (for both food and perhaps even love). There's a lot to explore!!!! He's such an enigma!!! I wonder if he's ever considered doing mukbang.... OMG,,,,,, mukbang on the dark web, but it's just Jade eating a spread of various human parts he's prepared. Scary... ;;;;; or maybe you're right there with him and he's making you join him even though you don't want to. :( terrible eel!!!!

While I don't write for vore and so this may be incorrect, my understanding is that cannibalism and vore are both different in their own respects. The similarity is that there's a focus on consumption, but the difference is that there's more brutality in cannibalism, as well as a focus on the build-up to inevitable feasting. Likely torture aspects, how the person is killed and later prepared, and so on. More gore and perhaps even violence; it's messy. The end result, in most cases, is death if [insert character here] has killed you and is cooking and eating you in parts. With vore, I think there's more emphasis on the relationship or dynamic between predator and prey and how there's not usually gore involved (although I'm sure there could be), merely just the act of being swallowed alive and whole and then being kept in the predator's stomach, whether to be digested or not.

HOWEVER!!!!! The idea of being shrunken down to a small size...... macro/micro with Jade........ being a smol fairy who the twins capture and put in a jar and......... :) Jade holding you up by your wings, pinching them in two fingers, and dangling you over a bubbling cauldron or the batter for a cake he's baking and acting as if he might drop you in............. he's the worst. >:( but Floyd with a little fairy darling is cute because I think he'd put you in a dollhouse and watch you sleep because you're so cute and he has to restrain himself from just,,,, crushing you in his fist because the cuteness aggression has him in a chokehold. >_<

Aaaaaa I love the idea of yan!Jade always thinking with his stomach even when it comes to love. He's hungry for your heart in more ways than one. To use my blog's catchphrase, he's after your heart. <3 hehehe!!!

But on the subject of cannibalism, there's a Vocaloid song called The Last Supper in which Len is sick with a seemingly incurable disease and no food can seem to sate him; so Kaito and Gakupo feed him all kinds of foods in hopes of finding one that pleases his bottomless appetite, but eventually they run out of ingredients and so they offer themselves to Len. This concept but with a royal!darling and butler!tweels........... but then maybe they just feed you Azul instead. T_T he has eight tentacles; maybe he can spare one to help you overcome your insatiable hunger, but then maybe that ends with you getting attached to the taste of Zuzu. Maybe he was a prisoner in the palace dungeons......... hmhmhmmmm many thoughts. >:D

orz aaaaaaa forgive me for rambling about lots of things at once!!!!!!

#twisted chit chat #heyyy11 #tw: cannibalism #tw: vore #<- tagging just in case :D

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jamminvroomvroom · 2 years

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upper hand. part 1

GR x fem!reader

find the other parts on my ✨masterlist✨

ello ello. wrote the bulk of this at 1am when i was very sleep deprived, apologies if it’s terrible lmao. lately george has just been giving so i could not resist the urge to write him any longer and bam here we are!! enjoy, feedback is always welcome and necessary for my fragile ego <333

in which you and george do not get along… until you do.

warnings: 18+!! smut, slightly bitchy reader, bitchy george, lando jumpscare, alcohol, language, just a general flirty, hateful vibe yanno

3.9k words

george russell was an enigma. very few people seemed to realise this.

it wasn’t all banter and overconfidence and wide eyes that seemed to hold an entire universe. you knew how easy it was to mistake him for something a lot more cookie cutter, basic, copied and pasted from the public relations guide for dummies. you knew because you’d spent the bulk of your media career hating him because he pretended to be each of those things.

you couldn’t stand the man, plain and simple. you found him so unbearable, so cheesy, so arrogant. watching him walk towards you from the other side of the media pen never failed to make your skin crawl, jaw tightening as you forced yourself to ask him questions. you hated that you got nothing from him, no matter how hard you tried.

there was something about the way his face changed when he smirked, something in the way all of his features twisted to create this beautiful, infuriating look that made you embarrassingly weak in the knees. it also made you want to slap him. it was a very fine line. you didn’t like the falsity, the way you could always practically see him plaster on a facade before each interview. initially, you wanted to challenge that persona, find the real george beneath all of that media training and cockiness, but eventually you’d decided that his level of bullshit did not appeal to you. at least, that’s what you told yourself.

george seemed to know how much he irked you, it was rather obvious, given the way your eye would twitch as he’d saunter towards you and your microphone. he enjoyed it, toying with you, making you squirm. he wasn’t exactly a massive fan of yours either, a mutual dislike forming, at least one thing you could both agree on. if you didn’t so blatantly hate him, george would have been floored by you. you were an increasingly impressive journalist, a beautiful, intelligent woman, what wasn’t to like? it was a shame that you used your gift with words to throw jabs at him.

at first, he’d found it alluring, the way you’d challenge him in the media pen. george was no stranger to some harmless flirting in the paddock, used to journalists taking the liberty of batting their eyelashes a few times to see if he’d answer their questions. so, when he’d seen you standing there for the first time, legs made longer by your high heels, hair flowing in the breeze, smiling down the lense of the camera you were talking to, he made the terrible mistake of assuming that you’d become a regular highlight of his media schedule. he was quickly put in his place when he left your interview with his head spinning and a headache well on its way.

still, he tried it on with you. it was fun, no one else gave george the same rush. it stopped being fun, however, over the winter break. you’d spent the better part of december and january questioning if he really was the right choice at mercedes and that was his last straw. he knew he was good, he knew he deserved it and he knew that some random woman was not about to change his mind. still, you were credible enough to cast doubt and unfortunately, you weren’t just some random woman. you made his heart race, and not just because of the bad press.

you were stood in the media pen revising your notes of the events of the monaco grand prix. the race in itself had been rather boring, apart from the typical ferrari blunder, and you’d already spoke to both ferrari drivers, as well as both redbull drivers. you looked up from your notepad, slicking back your hair, still slightly damp from the impromptu rain showers that you’d gotten caught in, only to make eye contact with a tall brit. your eyes narrowed as he stepped up to the microphone that another member of your team was holding.

“so, george. best of the rest. getting used to that yet?” you asked, blunt straight off the bat. you didn’t miss the way his eye twitched. he leaned forward, placing his hands on the barrier that separated you, suddenly towering over you.

“well, you know how it is, the car isn’t where we want it to be yet but i have no doubt that the team will get it where we need it to be.” he affirmed with a nod of his head and you wanted to roll your eyes at his picture-perfect response.

“you seem to be continuing this streak of being in the top five, which is fine,” you shrugged, watching him tense up at the word. fine. mediocre. you were enjoying this too much. “but wouldn’t it be nice to get on the podium again? or a win, could that be on the cards?”

“i was on the podium last week.” he gave you a tight smile.

“yes, after a very unfortunate retirement from leclerc.” you stated matter of factly. you could have laughed at the way his face fell flat but that would have crossed the border between unprofessional and too unprofessional.

“i think, as a team, we are capable of podiums, and even maybe a win. we’re making a lot of progress, lewis and myself, each weekend.” he was such a robot, one that you took great pleasure in tormenting. if george didn’t want to give you anything remotely interesting, you’d just have to push a few buttons. he left you with no choice.

“and how are things going with sir lewis? it must be rather daunting to have him creeping up on you, right? we know how much he loves the hunt. how are you finding it, facing up to the greatest driver of all time?” you leaned forward as you spoke, looking up at him and batting your eyelashes, just to really let what you were asking sink in. you knew that george was perfectly capable, a very impressive, accomplished driver. that didn’t matter. all that mattered was making him tick.

“there’s no rivalry between lewis and i, working alongside him is a great honour and i think that between us, we are making great progress.” blah blah blah, progress, teamwork, yada yada yada. at least screwing with him a little bit made the interview less boring for you.

“and what do you make of the rumours that monaco will be taken off of the calendar? after another processional race, with very few overtakes-“ you started, only to be cut off.

“i made an overtake. caught lando as he was coming out of the pitlane.” he smiled smugly, now his turn to be be matter of fact. you scoffed.

“well, he was on cold tyres.” you stated, quirking an eyebrow. he shrugged, leaning in even closer.

“an overtake is an overtake, especially in monaco.” george smirked.

“okay, george, congratulations on another fifth place finish. thank you for your time.” your smile was sickly sweet, returned by a scowl from him as soon as he was off camera.

“always a pleasure, sweetheart.” he threw the words and wink over his shoulder as he walked away, a safe distance from the microphone. you froze, eyes widening at the pet name, but more importantly, the way heat shot through your body upon hearing it.

fuck. maybe he’d won this one. you hated it when that happened.

after your interviews had wrapped up, you had a few hours to kill before the festivities started. you didn’t always hang around after a race weekend came to a closing, but it was monaco and you’d been invited to more parties than you could count on one hand. a few of your colleagues had roped you into a party on someone importants yacht and how could you say no to that? you got yourself ready and headed down to the lobby, looking forward to a night of fun and the next couple of weeks off before you headed to azerbaijan.

you checked yourself out in the hotel window as you waited for your colleagues, admiring how good you looked in your dress, the way it accentuated every curve, the silky material hugging you perfectly. you wondered what it would feel like, just for a second, to feel someone else’s hands running all over the satin. to hear his voice in your ear, his breath fanning your neck, hand wrapped in your hair, lips against your ski-

god! enough.

you hated it when that happened. anytime you let him get the upper hand, you generally spent the rest of your evening thinking about him touching you. that’s why you were a bitch. you couldn’t let yourself succumb to him, couldn’t let him win the interview. you shook your head trying desperately to rid yourself of those thoughts, praying that you wouldn’t run into him this evening. he didn’t live in monaco and the chances were that he’d gone home. you clung on to that fact as you watched your friends enter the lobby, the group of you heading off for a good night.

you were a few drinks in, barely even tipsy when you saw him for the first time that night. you were stood on one of the upper decks on the super yacht you’d been invited onto, deep in conversation with lando and his girlfriend. you were joking with the brit about something golf related, having joined him and few other presenters in bahrain for a few rounds on the green, when george decided he just had to be a part of the conversation, slapping lando on the back and winking at luisa. you rolled your eyes, barely able to contain your groan of annoyance.

“and how are you on this fine evening?” george rested his hand on the railing

behind you, a bit too close to you, not so subtly raking his eyes up and down your frame. there was a twinkle in his blue eyes, something dangerous, exciting. you gulped.

“wonderful.” you replied curtly.

“and you look it too.” he grinned, catlike, mischievous. you blinked rapidly.

“would you like us to leave?” lando suddenly chimed in, and thank god he did. you were starting to get tunnel vision, almost forgetting that you had company.

“yes, actually.” george… joked? you couldn’t tell. one thing you did know was that you definitely shouldn’t be left alone with him.

“no, stay, after all, all george could talk about earlier was you, lando.” you smirked directly at the tall brit, despite directing your words at the other driver. your words were enough to wipe the smile off of george’s face.

“oh really?” lando laughed, missing, or perhaps ignoring, the obvious tension growing.

“he was so proud of his overtake on you. it was adorable.”

you were oblivious to lando’s laughter next to you, only able to focus on the way that george’s eyes had narrowed, darkening as he glared at you. you smiled innocently at him, but your eyes told a different story. hungry, lustful, maybe even a little bit desperate. you didn’t even care about that, all you could do was stare back at him, waiting for him to snap.

“i think we need to have a little chat, straighten a few things out.” george took his hand off of the rail behind you, grabbing your wrist. before you could even react, he was pulling you through the sea of people. all you could do was trail along behind him, weaving through the crowd until he led you into an empty stairwell.

“so what do you want to talk about? the weather?” you asked sarcastically once he’d finally stopped. he dropped your wrist, starting to pace in the enclosed space.

“why are you such a fucking nightmare? always standing there talking shit while you eye me up like you need to be fucked.” your jaw dropped at his explicitness, feeling flushed in contrast to the cool

wall you were rested against.

“you’re one to talk, you know. walking around that paddock like i’m going to drop to my knees because you overtook a fucking mclaren,” you replied, wanting to get him exactly where he’d gotten you. “not exactly the flex you think it is, sweetheart.” you mocked his closing words from the media pen.

“i can think of a better use for that mouth of yours if you’re going to continue to run it.” he spoke sternly. your legs felt like jelly but you were determined to hold your own.

“and i can think of a few things you could do with yours.” you quipped.

“is that what you want? hmm?” he stepped forward, caging you in against the wall that was definitely the only thing keeping you upright. “do you want my mouth? my fingers? bet you’d take anything i gave you.”

“why are you so sure that i want anything from you?” you made one last attempt at regaining any power that you had over the situation. you knew you’d lost it when he started laughing, breath fanning your neck. he peppered a few kisses on the skin there, sniggering again at the shaky breath you let out.

“you’re fucking shaking, my love. i know, you know, and everyone on that deck up there knows you want me,” he pressed a few more kisses on your neck before he whispered in your ear, “its okay though, sweetheart, because quite frankly i’ve been waiting for a year to see what you look like on your knees.”

his lips were on yours before you could even process what he’d said, his words finally sinking in as he licked into your mouth, nipping at your bottom lip. you moaned into his mouth, bringing your hands up to pull on the collar of his shirt, but he caught them, pinning them above your head. the height difference made it easy for him to keep them there, but made it awkward to keep kissing you. ever the problem solver, george found a solution.

with one hand still wrapped around your wrists, the other snaked down to the skin of your bare thigh, skimming the area left exposed as your dress rode up. he mumbled a jump against your lips, hoisting you up in his arms. he kept you firm against the wall, encouraging you to wrap your legs tightly around him, holding you up with his hips, which were rutting desperately against yours.

his lips detached from yours, sucking at your neck, much rougher against the sensitive skin than he had been previously. his kisses trailed down your cleavage until he was yanking the top of your dress down. you were annoyed as you heard the stitches pull at his harsh movements, quickly distracted by the groan he let out at the sight of your bare chest. he dipped his head, sucking a nipple into his mouth, making you arch into him even further. he toyed with the bud, nipping at it until you were gasping at the sensitivity. you decided to use this opportunity to try and gain the upper hand.

“keep doing that george,” you breathed, “i like it when you’re nice and quiet for me.” you teased, taking advantage of how he’d distracted himself with your chest, his grip on your hands loosening. you threaded your hand through his hair, tugging on the strands to keep him in place. “you can do whatever you want with that mouth if it means you’ll shut the fuck up.”

he growled, biting down on your nipple as you pulled a bit harder on his hair, making you whimper. he pulled his tongue away from you, letting you slide back down the wall until your feet hit the floor once more. one hand went to your neck, the other going to his belt, which he began to undo. the clinking of the metal made you tense up, the anticipation killing you.

“i think you’re the one that needs to shut the fuck up,” the hand around your neck tightened as he spoke, “all you do is talk, talk, talk, trying to wear me down with your short dresses and stupid questions,” he pulled his trousers and his boxers down just enough to free himself from their constraints, sighing as he relieved himself. his trousers had only been getting tighter and tighter since he first saw you this evening. hell, they’d been getting tighter since he first saw you on thursday morning. “you can pretend you’re in control all you want, love, but we both know i could have you spread out for me in the middle of the press conference if i wanted to.”

with that, he used his grip on your throat to aid you down onto your knees. it’s not like you put up much of a fight, very willing to get down there of your own accord. you wanted to make him squirm. there was also a part of you dying to make him feel good, desperate to please him. you took his cock into your hand, slowly running it up and down his length, getting used to the way he felt, the weight of him. as you stared up at him, eyes fixed on his, you finally concluded that perhaps he was allowed to be overconfident, considering what he was working with. you were almost salivating, unable to wait any longer. keeping up the eye contact, you ran your tongue along the underside of his cock, kitten licking at the tip.

george threaded his fingers through your hair, encouraging you to take more of him. who were you to resist? you wrapped your lips around the tip, sucking and swirling as you took him further and further down. you hollowed your cheeks, moaning around him, which seemed to finally send him off the deep end. he looked flushed, a little bit beautiful with his head thrown back, thick neck all exposed and in need of a few marks to match the ones he’d decorated you with. his eyes had finally left yours, the pleasure too much for him to maintain it, mouth hanging open as he moaned your name.

“so fucking good for me, such a good girl. wish you were like this all the time, fuck.” you hummed around him in response, pulling yourself off of him. you stood up from the floor, kissing him fiercely. his hands were on your hips, pulling your dress up your thighs until your panties were on display.

“i don’t think i said you could stop.” he muttered against your lips, pulling your bottom lip between his. you reached for his collar, not stopped by him this time, and pushed him back into the wall.

“want me to keep being your good girl? hmm?” you pressed a kiss right beneath his ear, biting down on the skin. “i think you need to earn it.” you soothed the bite with your tongue, running the tip across his strong neck.

“you pretend that i’m the desperate one, as if i haven’t noticed you squirming in every single interview,“ you whispered in his ear. you reached down, finding his hands, and placed yours on top of them, guiding them up your half naked body. “i know that this is what you think about every time you run away, back to your hotel room,” you trailed his hands over your waist, skimming across your abdomen until he was cupping your breasts. “bet you spend your nights locked away wishing you were touching me,” you gasped as he pinched your nipples, every single nerve in your body standing to attention by now, but you kept his hands moving. you laced one of yours with his, bringing the other one back to your neck, guiding his large fingers with your smaller ones. “so come on george, touch me. need you to touch me if you want me to be good for you.”

something in him snapped once more and suddenly, he was very much back in control. before you could even blink, he had moved you both across the narrow hallway so that you were pressed into the parallel wall, lips passionately on yours. the hand that wasn’t choking you lightly was between your thighs, ripping the lace of your underwear which fell pathetically to the floor, completely useless to you now. he had a finger rubbing at your clit, dipping between your folds to discover just how soaked you’d gotten for him. if he wasn’t kissing you, you knew he’d be smirking down at you like the bastard he was. you were boneless, putty in his hands as he plunged a finger into you, working you open deliciously for him, thumb rubbing your clit to create a perfect rhythm.

you were struggling to keep up with him, the combination of his kiss and his hands on your neck and your cunt making you dizzy. you didn’t know what to focus on, mouth falling open, head falling back to hit the wall as he slid another finger inside of you. your eyes rolled back in your head, his name tumbling pathetically from your mouth in the form of desperate whines that only made him fuck you with his fingers even faster. you were proud of yourself for managing to rile him up this much, the knot in your stomach growing and tightening until you were shaking, barely able to stand without his help. his hand left your throat as you came, and you collapsed forward, tears building in the corner of your eyes as you fell into his arms.

you leaned back, arms still wrapped around him and his still holding you up in your weakened state. for the first time since you’d met him, you truly appreciated the sheer beauty of his eyes, the way the colours blended effortlessly to give away his every emotion. if you weren’t mistaken, he was looking rather smitten.

“okay?” he asked you, a bit too smug for your liking. you still had a couple of cards left to play; if he thought you were done, that he’d won this round, he was sorely mistaken.

you nodded at him, opening your mouth. he took the hint, bringing his dripping fingers up to your mouth. you took them in, licking yourself off of his fingers eagerly. you were certain he shuddered, unable to look away from you for even a second. your eyes flickered down to where he was still painfully hard for you, urgently waiting his turn. as he gawked at his fingers in your mouth, you readjusted your dress, smoothing it down. he was in a daydream, ogling you to the point where he didn’t know what you were about to do, as if he was the one who’d just had the mind blowing orgasm. pulling his fingers out of your mouth, you stepped around him, making your way to the bottom of the stairs he’d dragged you down earlier.

“where do you think you’re going?”

“places to be, people to talk to. have a nice week off, sweetheart.” you winked, quickly turning on your heel, swaying your hips just for him as you made your way up the stairs on shaky legs and disappeared from his eye line. you didn’t miss the way he groaned in frustration, cursing loudly, while you giggled.

you were definitely taking this as a win.

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