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#fun fact: this idea has been in my mind for a good while
charliemwrites · 2 hours
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Part 4
Mister(s) Steal Your Girl is, somehow, now the official title. Congratulations you little shits (affectionate).
Content: Toxic Behavior, Brief Weight Shaming, Hurt/Comfort
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You didn’t expect to see Johnny much after that one night - or possibly ever again. Kyle introduced you two, it was a lot of fun, but you figure that’ll be the end of it. Like introducing a new man to your girlfriends (not that you can really introduce Kyle to yours) you passed the vibe check and now Kyle will keep you and Johnny separate.
That’s how it’s been with Brandon’s friends. (Granted, you don’t really care for Brandon’s friends. And you figure it’s mutual based on the “uptight” comments they pretended to think you couldn’t hear.)
You’re starting to realize that Kyle is always going to subvert your expectations.
Johnny becomes a fixture - a welcome one. While you and Kyle still have your date nights and privacy, Johnny joins you two at least once a week for movies, drinks, dinner, or just silly adventures out and about.
You’re surprised that you don’t mind. Johnny is fantastic company, always respectful, funny, and friendly. Whenever the two of you are left alone, there’s no dead air. In fact, sometimes you could almost swear there’s electricity. Which is… well. It makes it hard to look him in the eye sometimes - and looking at Kyle even harder.
Guilt nips at your stomach until one of them distracts you with another story you’re 70% sure they shouldn’t tell you.
You and Johnny play a game with pub napkins, doodling something on one folded half, then passing it over for the other to scribble on the second half. The trick is not cheating and seeing the first half, then unfolding it to a complete (and usually silly) picture. Gaz always gets to name whatever monstrosity has been created.
You get a month of that good company. Then Kyle sighs at his phone one night.
“Shipping out again,” he explains when you glance at him.
“Will you be gone long?” you ask, shifting.
His brow furrows. “Not sure. They can’t tell us much over the phone.”
You hum in understanding. Still new to this whole military thing, the redacted danger of it all, but you think you’re getting the hang of it. At least, Kyle never seems annoyed when he can’t answer you, only apologetic.
“Is it gonna be the whole team?” you ask.
“Nah, just me and the cap.” He rubs his palm along your calf, a gesture that you suspect is self-soothing rather than for your benefit. “Probably not too dangerous, then.”
You make a noise of protest, nudging at his thigh with your foot. “Bad luck!”
“Sorry, sorry!” he chuckles, tapping his knuckles on the wooden end table. “You’re right.”
You crawl from your side of the couch to his, nuzzling up under his arm. He trails kisses along the side of your face as you snuggle in.
“I’ll miss you,” you mumble into his neck. Still a little embarrassed to be so needy, but you want him to feel appreciated.
“I’ll miss you too, chickadee. I’ll call if I can, yeah?”
You hum in agreement, squeezing an arm around his middle.
“While I’m gone, if you need anything - even some company - you ought to call Soap,” he adds.
The idea is tempting but… “I don’t want to bother him.”
“I promise you won’t,” he laughs. You don’t know what’s so funny, but hearing his voice rumble in his chest like this is always a treat.
“Maybe,” you allow.
“We’ll take it.” Before you can ask what that means, he loops an arm around your waist and scoops you into his lap. “Now then, about my send off.”
Your giggle turns into a moan as his mouth slants over yours.
Kyle’s only been gone three days. You’ve occupied yourself with cleaning up the flat you share with Brandon. Dust has been collecting since you’ve been out and about so much - and god knows Brandon hardly does more than load the dishwasher. Besides, a good bit of spring cleaning is a pleasant enough distraction, humming as you toss out old things to make more room for the new stuff you’ve been collecting.
“Good to see you getting back to normal,” Brandon says cheerfully. You glance up from the laundry you’re folding. He continues, “I was worried with how behind you got on things, but I knew you just needed some time. I told you this would be better for us both.”
You try not to let that sting. Even if things are better now, and continuing to get better, you can’t forget the pain that lingers from the beginning.
“Tell you what,” he adds, hands in his pockets. “When you finish cleaning up, I’ll take you out to the pub, yeah? Put on something pretty.”
You perk up, pleasantly surprised, though hesitant.
“We could leave earlier if you helped,” you point out, hoping for more than just dinner. “Maybe we could walk in the park or something before eating.”
He gives you a weak smile. One you recognize more than his real one by now. It’s almost apologetic, but not quite.
“I would but I’m bloody exhausted from this week, ya know? Big projects coming up at work.”
Your smile freezes. “And some late nights, I’m sure,” you try to joke.
He doesn’t laugh like you expect, but gives you an odd look. “Why would you say something like that?”
Baffled, you shrug. He shakes his head.
“I’m going to take a nap, come wake me up when you’re ready to go.”
You manage to finish the majority of your to-do list by 5. Shower, get dressed, do your hair and makeup with Brandon snoring in the background until 6. By then, he still hasn’t woken up from his nap, so you perch on the edge of the bed and gently nudge at him until he stirs.
“I’m ready to go, babe,” you murmur.
He scrunches up his face - you spare an affectionate thought for how cute it is. You’ve always found it cute.
“Five more minutes,” he grumbles.
You laugh a little. “It’s getting late, we should probably head out.”
He groans. “Five. Minutes.”
You huff in amusement and reach for his phone to set an alarm, but pause at all the notifications from dating apps crowding his screen. There are… a lot. And as you’re looking, a new message pops up, just labeled “blonde” with a peach emoji. Gross.
You set the alarm and slip away to the living room.
It takes him another half hour to finally rouse, shuffling into the living room with a groan.
“C’mon,” he yawns. “It’s going to be bloody crowded by now.”
You follow him quietly to the car, knowing he’s not chatty when he’s just woken up. Hunger only adds to his mood; you can practically see a cloud forming over his head. By the time he pulls up to the pub, he’s downright grumpy. He grumbles about shit parking, and the milling people outside. It looks busy.
“We could go somewhere else?” you suggest.
“This is fine,” he says.
He parks a block away and starts at a swift pace. You try to hold his hand, but halfway there, he pulls away to check his phone and doesn’t take it again.
Surprisingly, it’s only a twenty minute wait for a table - but Brandon sneers something like “of course it is” under his breath. You smile apologetically at the hostess and usher him away.
He doesn’t talk during the wait, at first. Until suddenly he blurts. “We wouldn’t have to wait if you’d woken me up.”
You blink at him. “I did. You asked for five more minutes.”
“Well, why didn’t you wake me up then?”
“I set an alarm?”
You don’t know why he’s so irritated, just that he seems tired and hungry.
“You know I don’t listen to alarms,” he complains, scowling at the sidewalk.
“Okay… I’ll wake you up next time,” you offer.
“Yeah, next time.”
Thankfully, the two of you are called a little early. The pub is indeed loud and crowded, and you’re definitely overdressed. But at least you know what you want - Brandon’s taken you here a million times before.
Wisely, you wait until he’s downed the texmex rolls before trying for conversation again. He hums along as you talk about work, about the books you’ve been reading, about the new movie you saw last week. You think it’s going pretty well, catching up on each other’s lives, when he interrupts you mid-sentence.
“Where was this?”
You frown. “At the grocery store…?”
“You’re still on that? Thought we moved on from that story.”
You don’t bother finishing it, just ask him about his work. It’s like pulling teeth. A lot of “good” and “busy” and “same as usual.” By the time your entree comes, you’ve given up, not sure if you want to cry or just walk away to see if he even notices. He keeps checking his phone. Your fingers twitch to text Kyle, but you don’t want to bother him while he’s working.
The end of dinner can’t come sooner. You decline dessert when the server asks.
“Probably for the better,” Brandon tells you lowly when they’re gone to get the check. “I think you’ve put on a bit of weight. You know how you get.”
You probably have - Kyle has a sweet tooth and practically begs you to split desserts with him. Johnny’s shares his food with you now too, grinning when you express approval for whatever high-protein dish he’s picked and shoving more at you.
As for “how you get”… Brandon’s mentioned in the past when you were heavier that you get mopey, aren’t much fun to be around.
(A small part of you wonders how that would even effect him at this point. He doesn’t spend enough time around you to notice if you’re mopey. Is that why tonight has been such a disaster…?)
You just collect your purse and lead the way out of the pub. It’s a quiet walk back to the car, even though Brandon seems to be in a better mood. He’s still texting, nearly bumps into an elderly couple along the way.
Back at the apartment, he runs his hand down your side, tugs at the lace hem of your shirt.
“Careful,” you chide.
He sucks his teeth and drops his hand. “I’m just trying to be playful.”
“I know, but I like this shirt.”
He rolls his eyes. “You’ve got three just like it.”
You don’t answer, know it’ll lead to more useless bickering. Just tug the stupid thing over your head, ready to go to bed.
“Hey now, that’s more like it,” he drawls, fingertips running down your spine.
You jump, surprised, but play it off that his hands are cold. He makes some crass comment about warming them up, reaching for your breasts, and your stomach churns.
“I-I think I ate something bad,” you lie, all but sprinting for the bathroom.
You close the door behind you - but don’t lock it. Just sit on the floor, the wall cold against your back, while you try to breathe through your spinning, conflicting thoughts.
He’s finally giving you attention, affection. Why aren’t you jumping at this opportunity to spend time with him? Not long ago, you would have been weeping with joy to have an iota of your normal relationship back. Maybe you really did eat something bad.
“Hey,” Brandon calls through the door, “I’m gonna stay somewhere else tonight.”
You stare at the blank white wood, aghast. “But I’m sick.”
“It’s not like I can do much, is there? Except listen to you be sick all night,” he reasons. “And who knows. Maybe it wasn’t something you ate. Maybe it’s contagious. I don’t want to spend the weekend ill.”
Your eyes burn. He didn’t even open the door to check. “Yeah,” you agree, voice robotic, “you’re right.”
Not even five minutes later, you hear the front door close. That almost, almost does you in. You manage to keep your lackluster dinner down, but not the tears.
You let yourself be pathetic for a few minutes, crying into your arms, folded over your knees. When you finally manage to get yourself together, it’s not Brandon you ache for. It’s Kyle. It’s not possible, you know. You just don’t want to be alone even though the nausea is dissipating.
Sighing, you remove your ruined makeup and wash your face, climb into one of Kyle’s jumpers. At least it still smells like him. It’s only as you’re trying to decide on a comfort show, huddled into a ball on the couch, that you remember his advice.
It takes all of fifteen seconds of debate before you scramble for your phone.
I know it’s late, but are you free, you text Johnny.
A response comes almost immediately.
Always for you, lass. You bite your lip on a tiny smile, already feeling better. Your phone buzzes again. What’s up?
Your thumbs hover over the keyboard for a moment as you figure out what to ask - then how to ask it.
Would you want to come to mine for movies? I don’t feel good…
He answers instantly again. Ice cream not-good or Theraflu not-good?
You sniffle when you remember that being sick was a dealbreaker for your night with Brandon.
Ice cream not-good, you reply.
Say no more, hen. Be there in fifteen. Pick a good one.
You watch TikTok’s until there’s a knock at the door. Upon answering, you’re swept up in a bear hug that lifts you off your socked feet.
“Johnny!” you cry, laughing a bit in shock.
“There she is!” he crows, swinging you around. “Been missin’ my best girl!”
You tell yourself the thrill in your stomach is just from him setting you down. (It’s a harder sell when it happens again seeing his wide smile and warm blue eyes.)
“You're ridiculous,” you huff, “I’m not your best girl.”
He arches his eyebrows. “Oh, yer keepin’ track, are ye?”
“C’mon, you must have a partner or something?” you prod as you usher him inside.
“Kyle must’ve told ye, hen, it’s hard in this line of work,” he explains, shrugging. “Tried before but… usually they just end up feeling neglected, ya ken.”
You hum. That’s why Kyle said you and he would work so well with the open relationship - that you’d still have someone at home while he was out. That you wouldn’t be alone if something happened to him.
“Anyway, this is no kinda talk for a cozy night in, now is it?” Johnny says, cutting your melancholy musing short. “Come look at what I brought ya!”
You only notice then the two grocery bags in one hand. He herds you to the couch and sets them on the coffee table for you to root through.
“My favorite!” You exclaim when you extract the tub of ice cream.
The grin Johnny shoots you is proud. “Kyle said so.”
“You two,” you sigh happily.
He’s also brought a squishy stuffed animal, crisps, popcorn, soda, candy, and a small collection of self-care items. You hold the face-masks up with a questioning smile.
“Heard somewhere that it’s good for ye, when yer feelin’ down.” You try not to giggle when the last word comes out sounding like “doon.” He continues, blissfully ignorant. “Hope that’s the right shite, there was a lot to choose from.”
You throw your arms around him, chest warm. “Thank you, this is perfect, Johnny.”
He circles his arm around your waist, holding you close. “Anytime, bonnie,” he murmurs into your hair.
You squeeze his shoulders as you pull away, waving one of the mask packets with a wicked little smile.
“Wanna try this ‘shite’ with me?” you tease.
You expect a resounding and masculine-heavy no. Instead, Johnny tilts his head consideringly for a moment, then shrugs.
“Eh, why the hell not?”
You wake up the next morning to a mess of candy wrappers, discarded moisturizers, and an empty carton of ice cream. And the smell of eggs. Cartoons are playing quietly on the telly. When you yawn and sit up, you’re greeted by a cheerful Johnny at the stove, wearing your pink apron.
“Mornin’, sunshine,” he calls.
You flush and smile back, glad that you called him. “Mornin’!”
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dekusleftsock · 21 hours
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I JUST HAD THIS REALIZATION IN THE SHOWER WHY HAVE I NEVER. THOUGHT ABOUT KATSUKI LIKE THIS.
So this is going to kind of go into Izuku’s bullying from Katsuki but it’s mainly if not entirely about why Katsuki has always stood out as a person, regardless of quirk or even leadership.
What got me thinking about this was actually those “American meets K-Drama bullies” on tiktok, which I often feel has a hint of xenophobia, but I digress.
One of the main points as to WHY the American in those examples would “win” is because of the cultural differences between fighting back vs shutting up and taking the beating. The main reason most Americans believed they would win is because culturally, a K drama bully would never think that their victim would retaliate, much less try to beat their ass in the first place.
Japan and China have similar cultural standards, especially to bullying (which is why bullying is so so bad statistically in Japan, with a whopping 57% bullying rate), and this “sit down and take the beating” cultural standard often permits bullies to continue to retaliate within the school. (Fun fact I was actually researching divorce in Japan for this due to some misinformation I’d read a while ago, but apparently Japan doesn’t have joint custody?? Like period?? It comes from the idea that a family is a set unit, and that were a parent to want to leave that unit, they are fundamentally no longer apart of it. No marriage, no custody, no child. You simply don’t see your kid very often, or ever. Sometimes this is even a decision on the father’s part, thinking that it’s “too painful to see the child after separation”, and that parents don’t see the benefit in children having both parties in their lives)
So, thinking of this in mind, I first went to why Izuku wouldn’t necessarily speak out or try to fight back. He wants to, he definitely almost does, but ends up standing silently shaking instead. Yes, fighting back may feel good, but even to people who would sympathize with said struggles may still blame the victim in this situation for “causing trouble”, it’s why Izuku and Katsuki’s relationship is even more interesting; it’s not just Izuku gaining confidence as he goes into high school, but that after he was given a space TO fight back (the first hero training), he actually started his arc on “defying society” and “not pushing things under the rug”. Tearing that rug to shreds doesn’t just mean looking out for those who haven’t been looked for, but also for destroying the standards that fighting back is a fault of yourself.
Tbh we also have this in the west as well, even those Americans who like to make those TikTok’s shaming people in countries they have no contextual idea to understand, much less solve. Because it’s not that fighting back itself would be hard, but that the social backlash would cause you to be even more of a target. It’s a lose-lose situation, so yes, a student will choose the wisdom of their parents and their elders that tells them to pretend it isn’t there.
But, besides that, in America (and I honestly wouldn’t doubt that this is in Europe too) the subtlety of that shame IS STILL THERE. I can even account for this in my middle school, for lightly pushing my bullies who ganged up on me, I was the one blamed and threatened punishment. The idea of a fight at all in high school would cause immediate suspension on both parties records, regardless of why or who started it. My brother in middle school was expelled for threatening kids who were both physically and vocally harassing him, and instead of any sort of help from the school, they REFUSED footage that might have defended him and my brother was then ostracized by my neighborhood/school district and thought to be some kid about to shoot up a school, he wasn’t.
Violence isn’t always the answer, obviously, but this is mainly to point out the hypocrisy of putting the west on this pedestal for fighting injustice.
I wanted to put this in somewhere but didn’t know where so it’s going here, but I find this take even funnier given the fact that North America has a 1% higher bullying rate than Asia which is so fucking funny and ironic
BUT BACK TO THE MAIN POINT ON KATSUKI, IM GETTING THERE I PROMISE🙏🙏
I think there’s this perception online of Katsuki that he is considered so unbelievably cool and normal given the context of his middle and elementary school, but putting it into perspective? Fighting your bullies, especially ones a year older than you, is REALLY WEIRD. Like, he’s an odd ball. It actually makes so much more sense as to why Izuku admires Katsuki in the first place. Katsuki has NEVER simply sat down and took the beating IN HIS LIFE.
And when you really think about it? All of that direct language, how rude he talks in Japanese (as in what pronouns he even uses for people, to the point that even the “softer” or “more intimate” pronouns he uses are… also kind of rude), and yk, suddenly, it’s almost like all the people at the beginning of their first year making fun of him… makes sense. And not just in a “lets humble this guy” way, they have no reasons to think of him in any kind of way really, they’re simply reacting to Katsuki and his odd way of speech and forwardness. He IS weird here, not just an asshole.
But EVEN GIVEN the fact that people know and think Katsuki is weird, he still strides along anyway. In fact, the only person who has ever gotten under his skin has been Izuku, who never even implied that he thought any malice of him in the first place.
Even now Katsuki continues to be himself to such a visceral, outward degree. I saw this post recently that was saying Izuku was actually quite mature for his age, but I’d argue that it’s less maturity, and more that he has just abided by a certain cultural standard of being thankful for the opportunities he’s been given.
It’s almost like Horikoshi has used Katsuki as this… idk, societal commentary? He certainly stays a societal commentary here in the west and our standards, often portraying more nuanced ideas of forgiveness and change and humility, but it’s different now that I think about it.
Katsuki isn’t just a character made to be rude for the sake of being funny, he’s an honest to god, walking, talking, culmination of what Japanese culture stands to change. It’s why Katsuki keeping his “hardened” traits is so so SO important. And it’s even more interesting given that he’s popular, he’s powerful, and he’s still bold while he does so.
Katsuki didn’t try to be popular, he just happened to do so. Explaining why he’s so bizarrely different from everyone else suddenly makes everything about his character make sense to me. Like, ofc Izuku would admire him to an almost worshipping degree, ofc he would stay in his life regardless of his flaws, Katsuki is himself in the most unapologetic way possible and THATS what’s truly admirable about him. His quirk, his determination, they’re both beautiful, but he’s the hero in his life because heroes inherently juxtapose the society around them. And that is exactly what Katsuki is.
And Katsuki, for all his flaws, never changed himself for society. He was always, long before he went to UA, before he even had his quirk, before he’d probably even met Izuku—been a hero.
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osteochondraldefect · 2 months
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Ilyen lennék, hogyha nem lennél nekem [ver. without glow + translation below the cut]
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"And I'm beginning to miss missing you" and for caption "This is what I'd be like if I didn't have you" song lyrics are taken from the song Kék Hullám Kemping by Carson Coma
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salaciousdoll · 7 months
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· · Just in: Kento Nanami isn’t tolerating his young hot neighbor party habits, here’s what he has to say · ·
・˳ . ⋆ Reporting Live from Kento Nanami and Next door neighbor!Fem!reader ・˳ . ⋆
୨⍣୧ ⁺⁎˚ ⋆━━ Warnings : smut, Nanami is a hard!dom, hair pulling, creampie, fucked through orgasm, pet names( stupid bunny, slut, etc.), degradation is big time here, bed breaking( not just the head board), breeding kink, Nanami talks about getting you pregnant, hardcore, reader is mind fucked, Nanami is pussy drunk, reader is dick drunk, fluids( cream, squirting, drool), if I’m missing anything let me know WC: 1,081
MDNI, 18+
ෆ ‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿ ෆ ̟ ̇ ┈•゚Note from salaciousdoll: Please do note this was just to poke and have fun, it’s not gonna be perfect so don’t expect it. Anyways, hope you all enjoy my 35 min writing and yes I know this troupe and idea been used a thousands times, act like it hasn’t 😭 Nanami ass may be ooc here, idk.
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Nanami always kept his eyes out for the new neighbor who threw parties with mountains of people coming in and out. He was pretty tired of the parties you throw even if you never introduced yourself to any one of your neighbors. You were young and everyone in this neighborhood was either stepping into their 30s or older than that. Only reason he knew you were young was because of how often he’ll see you leave and come in with different boys and girls.
The parties you threw were rowdy and full on project x type beat except without trashing your house. Nanami would be sleep and all he would hear is screams, music, and even the sound of fucking near his window. It’s like you didn’t care about anything or anyone, not even the complaints or calls from the police the other neighbors sent.
So Nanami didn’t care about the way you were clawing at his chest with your long, pretty acrylics as he gripped your hair in a tight ponytail— pounding into your pussy from beneath you with no mercy. The squelching sounds weren't enough to make him stop, in fact, that’s the sole reason he kept going. He ignored your cries and scrambling to get away from him because of how good he stretched your little hole out.
“ you’re not lasting like I thought you would… I mean sluts last long, so why aren’t you?”, Nanami grunts into your ear, his hips thrusting up into your weeping pussy, angrily. He didn’t care about the bed hitting the wall as he fucked you like the whore you’re mother wouldn’t be proud of.
You coughed and tried to make eye contact with him, but his grip on your hair was too much for you to see his face under you. So you cried out your frustration through crystallized vision, “ M’not a slut. Please slow down, Mr. Nanami.” Your sweet little moans and whimpers were beautiful.
Nanami let out a loud growl like moan and wrapped one arm around your body while he now had some of your ponytail tangled and wrapped into his hands, he was making your hair messy just like he was making your pussy messy. You partially regretted coming on because of the dare, but in the same breath, you were happy because now you’re living two of your fantasies.
“ You are. You are. Nnnhh, you’re a little slut that’s been disturbing this neighborhood since you stepped foot in here. Shame on you, did your mother and father teach you anything or are you too dumb of a bunny to understand. Fuck!”, Nanami grunts out his words because of how tight your fluttering walls wrapped around his dick.
Nothing but cries and little chokes escaped out of your mouth. You couldn’t form basic words, how dumb can you be? Nanami balls were slapping on your puckered hole from how fast and rough he was going. You gave up on digging your nails into his chest because you were so fucked out and tired from the pounding he’s giving you. So now your bare chest was pressed onto his bare chest, sweat glands producing from both of you.
“ Please! Please! Please! M’gonna m’gonna— uhhnnn.”, your moans were suppressed by his smooth lips. You were screaming into his mouth as you squirted over his pelvis, his balls, and legs. Some of it was getting on his sheets and he didn’t care one bit. He was too angry at you to see how messy you’ve gotten his covers.
You tried to scramble off him because you were squirting too much and the pressure of it all was too much especially for your already beaten up pussy. It’s like Nanami has superhuman speed and stamina. He sped up even more faster as he fucked up into you, you and your pussy screamed and cried.
Nanami grunts were beginning to become broken, “ Sh-ittt, s’good, pussy is so good squirting like that. I guess all those boys coming in and out of your house taught you how to milk cock, perfectly.” Your eyes widened and then they rolled back into your head at the rolling of his hips hitting the inner thighs repeatedly.
As soon as he did one more snap of his hips, the bed frame broke underneath you two causing a loud noise to erupt from how hard it hit the floor. The poles attached to his bed fell in the opposite direction of you two. If someone were to walk in right now, they’ll see that it looks like a tornado hit his room with how broken the bed was. Yet that still didn’t stop him. He now had a great angle as he pounded your tired, wet cunt over and over with one knee propped up, so you were now fucking rapidly and properly. He felt your velvet walls sucking him in with your liquid coming out at the same time. You were perfect for his cock. Nanami’s cock was big, way too big for your pussy. He loved your pussy so much. He was too drunk on your pussy to understand that his bed broke.
“ My fucking slut, such an devilish little temptation you are, gonna breed this tight little pussy. Nghh! Hopefully that’ll get you to stop having these parties and fucking with those boy toys of yours…. Settle down and grow round and big with our child, how does that sound? Hmm.”, Nanami moaned as you were now creaming on his cock from how overstimulated you were.
Your brain was fogged and your words were slurred with drool hangin out your mouth as you answered him, well tried. Luckily he understood every word you said. “ Yesh—yess, I wan’ your babies. Ahnnn. Want to be full and bloated with your children, mmm mr. Nanami”
Nanami smirked in victory because now there were no more parties, boys, or loud music. Gotta love corrupting and breaking his pretty little neighbor.
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ෆ ̟ ̇ ┈•゚ Tagging: @chosoist @simpingfor-wakasa @honeybleed and anyone else who wants to be tagged
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゚•┈© all right reserved to salaciousdoll, she does not give permission to steal, plagiarize, and translate.
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heich0e · 2 months
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shouto has not stopped talking about his new nephew for an hour and fifty seven minutes.
you can't blame him, really, for not being able to stop rambling since he got home—you saw the photos he snapped on his phone, the sweet little boy is borderline cherubic. and it's his first nephew, after all, with touya being the first of the todoroki siblings to have any children. there's added novelty to this new arrival. the fact that the baby is so cute is just a serendipitous bonus.
"...and then he fell asleep right in my arms." shouto rinses his toothbrush under the stream of water flowing from the tap in your shared bathroom. half the story he'd just told had been lost to the froth of toothpaste in his mouth, talking around the toothbrush as he cleaned his teeth before bed, but he'd already told you this part of the story three times—so thankfully you didn't miss anything.
you smile as shouto wipes at the corner of his mouth with a towel hanging from the rail on one side of the bathroom, watching his reflection in the mirror. his eyes flicker up to meet yours in the surface of the glass, and he sees the mirthful twist at the corner of your mouth.
he turns to you in the narrow bathroom just off your bedroom and approaches you slowly, his arms winding around your waist as he tucks his face into the crook of your neck. he's in his pajamas now, ready for bed, and without lifting his head or stepping away from you, he begins shuffling the two of you out the door towards your waiting bed in the next room. you can't help but giggle as you go, reaching up and wrapping your arms around his neck for balance, allowing him to guide you wherever he sees fit.
shouto leans you back gently once the back of your knees hit the edge of your mattress, crawling overtop of you to get to his side of the bed and then pulling you into his chest once more as he tugs the blankets up around you both.
"sounds like you had a lot of fun today," you remark quietly as you settle into bed, your fingers tracing idle patterns into the flat plane of shouto's sternum.
"i didn't expect him to be so small," shouto replies. "or to smell so good."
you want to laugh at his sincere tone of surprise, but hold it back.
"i hope i get to meet him soon, too," you say.
"touya says you're welcome any time," shouto insists. "he said i'm only welcome some of the time, though."
that really does make you laugh, because you can practically hear the eldest todoroki son's voice saying the words.
it's quiet for a while as you and shouto lay in bed, tangled up together.
"he's gonna make me the godfather," shouto finally says after a while—so softly you almost miss it. the remark, and the tenderness in his voice, makes something in your chest squeeze tight.
"that's so nice, sho," you answer.
"that means if anything ever happens to touya, we get the baby."
'we' he says—not i—like he doesn't for a second picture any future (even one where his beloved older brother has met some untimely demise) without you in it.
"don't wish anything ill on him just because you want to steal his cute baby," you tease him, lifting your head up and resting your chin against his chest so you can watch his face. he looks pensive, like he's really mulling over your words, and it makes you want to laugh again.
"but it would be nice, i think," shouto finally speaks again after his careful contemplation. "having the baby here with us."
heat floods up fast to your cheeks, and you glance away unconsciously. you're sure shouto has no idea what he's just said—still a little giddy from how smitten he is with his new nephew. but it still makes your mind go to places it shouldn't.
"no baby stealing," you reiterate firmly. flopping down again to go to sleep—if for no other reason than you suddenly find it hard to meet his gaze.
shouto sighs a little, but the sound is resigned like he's reluctantly agreeing to your terms. he eases you over onto your side so he can curl up behind you underneath the cover of your quilt, his strong arm looping over your waist.
the heat of shouto's breath hits the shell of your ear as his face rests on the pillow behind you, and you can still smell the spearmint from his toothpaste. his warmth seeps into you as he presses into your back. you close your eyes and luxuriate in the familiarity of it.
"we could have our own, you know," shouto's voice is much nearer to you than you expect it to be when he speaks again, his lips brushing against the back of your ear softly as they shape his words. his hand slips up underneath the t-shirt you wore to bed—the tips of his fingers feel scorching as they ghost across your skin. "and i bet our baby would be even cuter than touya's—no stealing required."
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hoshigray · 10 months
Text
Been thinking about this scenario a lot, but ex-husband! Toji, where you two are pretty chill with each other, even after five years of divorce. But the feelings between you two start to parade back after all these years, and it all comes boiling over after spending one night together.
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A/n: Been a while since I've done one of these scenario thingies, plus this idea has been rotting my mind for a long time, and I needed it to get out, lol. I pushed back my Gojo fic to tmrw or Thursday because my brain was not feeling like re-reading 3-4k words while running on one hour of sleep. So, instead, we're dropping this in its stead. Sorry about that, and hope you like this while I fix the fic up later today :) Any grammar/spelling errors on this will be dealt with tmrw.
Cw: ex-husband! Toji x fem! reader - implied that reader is entering their mid 30s - starts out cute the first half but smutty the next, so minors DNI - implied that Tsumiki and Megumi are around middle school age; 12 (T) and 11 (M) - pining; Toji is whipped for you, I fear - Daddy kink - prone bone position + mating press - pet names (baby, sweetheart, sweetie, mama, princess) - cervix fucking - praise - itty-bitty-tiny overstimulation - closure; happy ending (?).
Wc: 3.4k (wow, way longer than the last one, lol)
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Ex-husband! Toji...
...who you've divorced after being together for four years. It was a marriage built on love, convenience, and heartache. There is no denying that Toji loved you very much; if anything, the man would set the world ablaze if anything were to happen to you. Especially when you were the sweetest thing that blessed his presence and his two children who were young at the time — Tsumiki and Megumi at age three. The fact that you loved him as much as he loved you is beyond doubt in Toji's mind. However, somewhere down the line, you felt a "shadow" that you could not surpass nor fill — the late wife of Toji.
You could tell that Toji still had a piece of him that just couldn't let the memory of his late wife go, and you understood that. Hence why you chose to leave him, which was glum for all parties, but Toji understood where you were coming from and signed the papers.
...who's still chill with you after the divorce. You two promised not to act like complete strangers, especially with Tsumiki and Megumi being close to you. Just because the ring isn't on your finger doesn't mean you must change completely. The two of you are comfortable enough to be in each other's company, taking turns watching over the kids and acting like you're still married by poking fun at one another like the good days.
"Hey, big guy," Toji turns to the kitchen hallway where you're looking at him, his usual black coffee in his mug still sheltered in your apartment cupboards. "You look like shit; too tired to go to the clubs to find some minx to wow you enough like you used to?"
He snickers at your brazenness. "Shut up, brat. I could ask the same fr' you. Got some good dick on the side to help that attitude of yours, baby?" After checking around to see if the kids are nearby, you give him the middle finger. He chuckles before sipping his coffee.
...whose kids adore and love you so much that they secretly try to have you and Toji in the same place, which the two of you are entirely aware of. Five years passed after your separation, though that doesn't hinder the children from wanting you back in their lives again. Because to them, you are always a Fushiguro, and the love for you will always be there. It's there when you go to Tsumiki's soccer games and drag your ex-husband to find a better seat on the bleachers to watch her play. It's there when Megumi tells his father he "accidentally" left his baseball bat at your place and "unfortunately" now has to spend the night there (and you always receive them). And it's there when you promise to come along on family trips, like going to the zoo and taking pictures by the Panda enclosure with his daughter or going to the aquarium and listening intently to his son explain all the different types of jellyfish.
Toji can't blame his own kin for being attached to you because you are still a mother in their eyes. And so to his.
...who has his wedding ring on his dog-tag necklace but always tucks it under his shirt whenever you're present. It gives him a peace of mind when it comes to you because if he can't be there for you 24/7, he knows you're under his protection whenever you need it. But the thought of you knowing he still wears it makes him anxious, worried that you'll take it the wrong way and request he never wears it again. So, for his sake, he keeps you blind to this secret. And he wonders if you ever wear yours...
...who welcomes you without hesitation when you have to spend the night at his place because he notices you're too exhausted to go home so late. The only problem is that there's no other room outside the kids and Toji's. And as much you protest, expressing your satisfaction with taking the couch, your ex-husband disagrees and will carry you to bed, sneering to himself as you try to wiggle out of his stronghold until he smacks the bedroom door closed with his leg.
"I told you I was fine sleeping on the couch, Toji." You complain to him, yet your back is pressed against his chest with his arm around your waist.
"And I told you not gonna happen, princess." his hold around you gets tighter, pulling you closer for him to rest his chin on your shoulder. "You'd probably fall off and smack that pretty face of y'rs on the floor."
"I would not—You know what," you stooped from saying anything further to the man grinning behind your ear. You shift a bit to make yourself comfortable. "Goodnight, Toji. And thank you."
It takes every fiber in his being to not kiss your cheek then and there. Exhaling softly through his nostrils as he lays his head back on the pillow. "No problem, sweetheart."
...who the last time he had someone after your separation was not feeling it at all. You even said he is free to do whatever he wants when moving on to the next minx that caught his attention. You two are adults and shouldn't feel entitled to putting each other on a leash. Despite that, he knew moving on from you wouldn't be easy — especially in the bedroom.
The women he's had after you can only be counted on one hand. No matter how good the fun was with the others, his mind would always crawl back to you. It didn't matter how different their hair was, what they dressed that night, or how fucking good the sex was; you would cloud his mind in some way. They weren't you. They weren't his sweet thing.
...who's extremely perplexed in a nightclub when he sees you. He didn't want to go in the first place until Satoru Gojo barged into his apartment, dragged him out in his best attire, and left Nanami (another victim of Gojo's foolishness) to babysit Megumi and Tsumiki. And it was bad enough that Gojo snaked away from Toji to the dance floor the second they got inside, the raven-haired man almost popping a vein in vexation.
So the older man resorts to just doing the usual gig: walking around before sitting at the bar to ask for a regular beer. He stays there for nearly half an hour, taking sips of his bottle while sweet-talking to the ladies that occasionally find him and give him his number. Things got really loud when the DJ at the discothèque played "Up!" by Lil Vada and DonnySolo, all the party people crowding the floor, bumping and grinding each other while singing the lyrics. It was at this point that Toji had enough of the massive headache growing in his head, so he was about to down his beer and leave the club; Gojo be damned because the fucker could find his own way home and then some.
But midway through putting the beer bottle on his scarred lips, something in Toji's peripheral captures his attention. And his jade eyes go wide at what he sees.
Down to the right side of the dance floor are booths catered to bigger parties, so it's obvious to notice when a single person sits alone on one of the round tables while everyone else is dancing their hearts out. That one person was you, observing the dance floor with your head on your hand resting on the table.
To say that Toji was flabbergasted by the image of you in a place like this after all these years was tough for him to comprehend. Yet what really had him in a chokehold was how stunning you were. From where he stood, he could tell that you dolled yourself quite a bit. Your hair was kept in a style that displayed your face wholly, and you were wearing a beautiful halter-neck dress with slits revealing your thighs deliciously.
He forgets how to breathe when your eyes drift in his direction and find him. You're just as surprised as he is for a short moment, but you offer him a familiar smile and beckon him to come to your side of the club. The older man wastes no time, paying the bartender and making his way through the crowd to your table. When he's close enough, he can tell that your dress is backless, exposing your smooth skin that calls for him to touch.
And when Toji notices the ring on your left hand — the old wedding ring he gifted you — the world around him comes to a complete standstill.
"Hey, big guy." He snaps back to look at your beautiful face, your smile still there to blind him, and the booth far from the dance floor and music so he can listen to your sweet voice. You move to the side to make room for him to sit. "Didn't think I'd find you here."
"Me neither." He admits to you as he takes a seat, his green orbs never leaving your figure. "What are you doin' here?"
"Some friends dragged me out here for one of their birthdays. I figured I'd be here for a few hours and loosen up a bit, you know? But I don't know, I guess I'm just so used to being at my place that I'm out of practice with clubs."
Toji nods at your answer. "Yeah, I was dragged here, too. I'm with—"
"Gojo? Yeah, I thought so. He's right there dancing with my friends." He pans around to the dance floor to see commotion at the center. The snow-haired man was dancing as a crowd formed around him, getting grinded on by a woman with a "happy birthday" headband.
Gojo notices the raven-headed man staring his way, pulls down his shades, and winks. That's when the reason why Toji was brought here in the first place hits him. Gojo knew you would be here tonight because of your friend's birthday. And now that you two are sitting alone, the wink signaled Toji to make his move.
"....Wanna get the hell outta here?"
You giggle at his suggestion. "Yeah, I don't feel like watching my friends get pregnant on the dance floor."
Toji snickers and grabs your hand to lead you out of the booth. He then drapes his denim jacket over your shoulders to cover your exposed shoulders and back, and the two of you leave the club without anyone noticing a thing.
...who spends the rest of the night with you as if you two are on a date again. It's late, so many shops around the area are closed already, but that doesn't stop the two of you from having fun. From sharing a meal at a nearby diner, walking around a shopping plaza admiring the silent ambiance, and listening to old tunes in his car as you two share stuff about your day while holding hands. And the change of mood completely baffles Toji. Nevertheless, when he sees the smile on your face and hears the sweet tune of your laughter, the grasp on your hand gets tighter with every minute. All his intentions go into enjoying having you with him like this again.
...who stays by your side until he has to drop you off at your place, parked his car to walk you to your apartment door. It's 1 o'clock in the morning, way later than Toji ever intended to stay out. Not that it matters now, because it's all worth it being able to walk with you. He doesn't let go of your hand even when his heart dies a little when you two arrive at your door.
"Had a good time?" You ask while unlocking the door; your eyes showcase subtle exhaustion but are overshadowed by your smile.
"Sure as hell did since I saw you at the club." He confesses, your chuckles casting a spell on him.
"Hmm, I'm glad you were there too, Toji." You meant those words, your eyes gazing into his, and the man's plunged deep into your gorgeous orbs. A feeling that he now realizes he wants to be the only one experiencing with you.
An awkward silence for a few seconds prompts you to snatch your hand away from his, causing his stomach to drop. "Sorry, your jacket" is what you use to excuse yourself, moving to take off the denim jacket. But Toji stops you, his hands stationed on your shoulders to keep you still.
"No, it's cold, sweetie." His voice is hushed, only for you to hear. "You can give it back next time."
Silence comes back again, but the air is heavier this time. The awkwardness is replaced with something more solicitous, more affectionate. You notice it when Toji has yet removed his hands from your shoulders, his large palms warming you up to the touch.
"Toji—"
"It's alright, baby." His gruff tone is still a whisper, and butterflies flutter in your stomach. "I won't do anythin'."
"No, no," you don't know what came over you, but you place your hands on his chest. Then your finger touches something from underneath his turtleneck, having you pull his collar down to pull out the dog-tag necklace that still harbors his old wedding ring. Toji's blood shifts to ice cold when you see the accessory — his anxiousness spikes up to an all-time high, only mere seconds from combusting based on whatever your response will be. And it comes.
"I...I want you to do something, Toji." It felt strange saying those words with your shaky confidence, though it's what you wished to express. "I want you..."
And just like that, whatever restraint that the older man had for you was butchered away. Emerald eyes take in every feature of your anticipating expression, and his lips come crashing down on yours.
...who couldn't care less how late it is right now because he finally has you where he wants you after all these years. It's 2:30 in the morning, way too late for loud noises as they'll disrupt the neighbors next door. But, again, Toji doesn't care about that. When he finally has you lying under him on your stomach, screaming out his name while he drives his cock deep inside you, what is there to care about?
The two of you are in the prone bone position, where you lie flat on your belly on the cream-white satin sheets of your bed, your legs in between Toji's and bare ass out for him to have easy access to your creamy cunt that hugs onto him all so well.
Tears paint your wet and sweaty face, drool escapes from the corner of your mouth and meets the sheets beneath you. The harsh thrusts of Toji's pelvis hitting your ass with such precision have you see stars, and his big hands keep your arms still. All you can hear are the ecstatic cries of your voice and the noises of skin smacking together.
"Nnmph!! Haaaah!! Ahhhh, yesssss, Daddy, just like that," your voice feels strained from all the screaming you've been doing for the past hour. Lips are swollen from the constant biting, your butt stinging from the intense contact with your ex-husband's pelvis. It's hard to think of anything but the man above you and his dick rearranging your slit like his personal toy. You never thought you'd experience this exhilarating and rewarding sensation again. And now that you do, it's all you want to indulge in. "H-Harder, pleaseeee, I want mo—Ahhhnnn!"
Toji grinds his hips down to your ass, churning your insides and grazing your cervix to the point of incoherent babbles. "Mmmm, oooh, shit, fuckin' shit. You're too tight on me, mama." He gives you a sharp thrust when you least expect it, and the walls of your chasm clamping down on his length has him hiss. It's hard to believe you're permitting him to have you like this. It's been five years. Five years of respectful boundaries and keeping a platonic relationship. Five years of denying feelings of want and desire. All those years of heavy guilt suddenly lifted from his shoulders just for him to have you under his bow again, your body quivering and voice shaky because of his touch.
It feels so surreal...But, God, Toji missed this so goddamn much. Missing your eyes, your smile, your touch, your body. Just you. Only you. "Hnnngh!! Damn, you feel so fuckin' good, baby. Can never have enough..."
"Mnnaaaah! Daddy, I'm gonna cummm, I'm gonna—Oooohh!!" The tip of his shaft scrapes the upper walls of your vagina, your brain pounding so hard to the point it hurts. "Pleaseee, let me cum, Daddyyy..."
He can tell you're close and senses your orgasm climbing up with his. That's when the pace of his hips goes erratically fast, jabbing your sweet spots and tender cervix, causing more tears to come down and your peak to finally release for the third time that night. As you cream on his cock, Toji's not too far from his own crescendo. Your velvety walls contract around his member divinely, and the older man spills his load into your quivering figure.
You're allowed to experience the aftershocks of your orgasm as you two let your bodies calm down, Toji laying his chest on your sweaty, heaving back. He then slowly removes his dick from your chasm, and the essence of your unioned sex feels cold while sliding down your inner thighs.
"Haaaaah...Mmmm, thank you, Toji." You whimper out as he lays kisses down your neck and shoulders. "Thank you..."
But little did you know that it wasn't the last of it. Before you could apprehend what was going on, Toji already had you flipped over to your back, stationing your legs on his shoulders to a mating press. And you see that his cock is not limp yet...
W-Wait a damn second—
"T-Toji, wait, hold on!" You try to rationalize with the man who aligns his shaft to your gushing vulva, and your sweat runs cold. "It's getting late. I just came three times already! We should—Nmmmph!!"
The head of his cock slides right in thanks to the slick and come lubricating your opening. Adding his weight onto you as he pushes his length deep into your chasm again, you cry choked sobs when he meets your cervix again, and his pelvis rubs against your clitoris. "Sorry, mama. Just lemme finish here, 'kay? Daddy missed havin' you like this, so I wanna give you all of me while I still can."
...who has your fatigued self lying on his chest, rubbing circles on your back and placing soft kisses on your forehead as you feel the effects of sleep slowly creep up on you. The lights are now off, the moonlight bargaining from the curtains being the only light source as you two are ready to gather whatever amount of sleep you can get.
"Hey, baby." But before that, Toji wants your attention for the last time before you sleep.
"Mhmm?" Your eyes are closed, but your ears are still open to listen.
His eyes drift down to the left hand that lays motionless on his chest. The gem on the ring flashes softly for it to be distinguishable. "How come you were wearin' your ring at the club?"
A few seconds go by before you give him the honest truth. "Same reason you wear yours. I always wear it when going out somewhere or alone someplace. Gives people the idea that I'm not ready for anyone else."
"Then why not wear it when I'm around?"
You giggle breathlessly. "Same reason why you don't let me see yours. I don't need a ring when I have you with me. A ring doesn't compare to my big man who will love and protect me wherever we go."
And Toji doesn't ask anything else after that. He lets you fall asleep in his arms and listens to your breathing follow a melodic rhythm. Your words stick with him even when his eyes close, and he soon falls into a deep sleep.
It's far-fetched to think that you two will be married again. Maybe it's possible in his dreams, but not in the real world. Regardless, Toji knows he will always stand beside you and be there for you. With or without a ring that's merely evidence of your love to outsiders. He knows you love him, and that's all he needs to keep moving. And if he could have you as his wife again, he'd sweep you off your feet in a heartbeat.
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BORIS JOHNSON RESIGNS AS MP. Thoughts? The people howl for a new update to the Big Dog the Clown saga.
Yes this was not on my personal bingo card; my most recent Big Dog event was that a friend of mine works for air traffic control and recently had to delay BoJo's holiday flight by four hours, and on being told that this particular plane had to be prioritised for a runway slot because it contained an Important Clown promptly pushed it to the bottom of the priority list. Lol. And then all this! What larks.
Okay not a lot of detail yet still but LET'S TAKE A LOOK AT THE EVENTS OF 9TH JUNE, 2023 and you know what? It's been a while. Let's do it properly.
7.15am
Another day dawns in the reign of evil Grand Vizier-turned-PM Rishi Sunak. He's a very boring flavour of evil, tbh. Say what you will about Johnson, but at least there was spectacle and showmanship to his clownshow. Something for the children to boo and hiss. An animate ham in a villain's wig, something to really enjoy as you sit back, relax, and savour a tall, cool glass of schadenfreude.
By contrast Rishi just gets sycophants - who are no less ridiculous, but far more grey and boring - who pretend he's a tech bro because "he understands AI" and they think that will make him a visionary and a man of the future and maybe some sort of Elon Musk figure, because that's obviously a smashing template to be copied in a leader of a country.
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This briefing was presumably drafted using ChatGPT.
Anyway, this is what we thought the day would be: another dreary overcast washout, livened up by Downing Street's latest attempt at making Sunak seem like a good idea to stave off the hulking spectre of Labour's inevitable GE win next year. How trite. How tedious. How mediocre.
What a shame it would be if... something were to liven it up.
8.39 am
Fun fact!
When a PM's term ends, as their last act in office, they get to present an Honours List. This means they write a list of all the people they reckon have been Jolly Good Sorts who have done Good Clowning and Supported The Community, and nominate those people for honours. Honours here can be anything from an MBE/OBE etc, to a Damehood/Knighthood, all the way up to entering the Peerage i.e. becoming a Lord. Traditionally, people have been fairly reasonable with these lists. Apart from anything else, the outgoing PM can only write the list - the new Prime Minister has to sign off on it, and it's usually the case, of course, that PMs are deposed by the opposition party.
Why am I mentioning this? Well: Boris, you see, has now presented his list to Sunak to validate. You may be unsurprised to learn that it contains quite a lot of clowns.
Another fun fact!
If a sitting MP is given a Peerage, they cannot continue to be an MP. MPs are elected. Lords are not. So an MP offered a lordship right now would have to stand down if they accepted, triggering a by-election in their seat that... well. That anyone could win, couldn't they? Ordinarily. Except Labour's shadow is growing, isn't it? I don't suppose Sunak would be all that happy about losing, for example, any Tory MPs nominated for a peerage right now.
What fun facts.
At 8.39am, Politics UK reveals an as-yet-unverified report that Nadine Dorries and Alok Sharma have been removed from Boris Johnson's honours list, and will go back to vetting.
(They also reveal that Big Dog's dad has been removed from the list, because nominating your dad for a Peerage is "inappropriate". Sorry, Bigger Dog. Apparently even corrupt ghoul Rishi Sunak has a limit to what open corruption he will allow, which is news to us all, most of all Rishi.)
10.41am
Nadine Dorries decides she will play to her strengths, and appear on TV to do some Public Speaking, which always goes well for her of course.
Nothing, let's remember, has been confirmed yet at all. But she's here to put people's minds at ease! No power-hungry status-chasing pink maniac, she! She is very clear in her aims.
“The last thing I would want to do would be to cause a by-election in my constituency.”
Quite right, Nadine. That would be disastrous.
11.20am
Oh, it’s Tory think tank NRG’s conference in Doncaster today.  Gideon George Osborne, pig-stupid former Grand Vizier and idiot fail-heir to David "pig-fucker" Cameron, gives a speech.  Let's see some quotes!
On the Tories’ choices of chancellors since he personally fell on his sword over Brexit left the role:
“You can see when the partnership doesn’t work. The government's paralysed and the politics is terrible.”
Fair, but also you are a government, George.
On Tories who attack the civil service:
“We’re in charge of our country’s destiny. We should stop blaming others if we don’t get things right." 
... right. But you just... Uh.
On Tory culture warriors:
“It’s really important that the Conservative Party is excited about the country we aspire to lead… and doesn’t get in to ‘we’re against all these groups of people’. We’re the inclusive people.”
Well, points for clearing that absurdly low bar, I guess. Christ, I cannot BELIEVE Suella Braverman is making George fucking Osborne look good-by-comparison.
1pm
Ooh. Nadine's attempts to put minds at ease have inexplicably not worked, can't think why not. She's such a reassuring and charismatic speaker normally.
But the rumour is now FLYING about that Nadine has indeed been dropped from the honours list, and specifically because Sunak wants to avoid a by-election that will lose him more seats at a time when he is desperate for even a mat on the floor as long as it's blue.
Sorry, Nads. Still; this morning you were very clear that the constituency comes first, so I suppose that's okay. The priority now is that she MUST stay in position, so the Tories can keep their numbers steady. It is VITAL she remains an MP. Let's remember her exact words!
“The last thing I would want to do would be to cause a by-election in my constituency.”
3.45pm
Nadine Dorries tweets her resignation.
The last thing she does as an MP is indeed to cause a by-election in her constituency.
3.50pm
Except this is Nadine Dorries we're talking about. She's found some flashy balls to juggle, look, and a boy to pour custard down her trousers.
Not five minutes after dropping the bombshell, she deletes the last tweet announcing her resignation, and tweets a new one.
The new tweet says, “it is now time for another to take the reins” as the MP for Mid-Bedfordshire.
The original tweet said, “it is now time for someone younger to take the reins.”
*
On Talk TV, Dorries says that "something significant did happen to change my mind", but doesn’t elaborate.
3.56pm
The whispers are whispering. The rumours are rumouring. The knives are sharpening.
Nadine's now-former seat is Mid-Bedfordshire, and has been Tory since 1929; a safe seat, which certainly explains how Nadine fucking Dorries managed to hold it for as long as she did.
An MP on the right of the Tory party says that if the Tories lose the Mid Bedfordshire by-election, it’ll open questions about Rishi Sunak's leadership CLOWNFALL 3: REVENGE OF BIG DOG LET'S GOOOOOO
3.57pm
Nadine Dorries is removed from the WhatsApp group.
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I would love to know who leaked that image. I really should not have that image. Ah well. Now you do too.
4.12pm
Good tweet alert!
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5.08pm
Phew! What a day. Let's see how Rishi's getting on.
He approves the rest of BoJo's honours list. Shall we take a look at our newly-honoured citizens? Shall we see what familiar names crop up?
Honours for staff at centre of Partygate Jack Doyle, Rosie Bate-Williams and Shelly Williams-Walker (and a lot of other terrible and disgraced people who were loyal to Johnson, and some of Carrie Antoinette’s friends).
Damehoods for Andrea Jenkyns and Priti Patel.
Knighthoods for Jacob Rees-Mogg, Conor Burns, and Michael Fabricant.
An OBE for Kelly Jo Dodge, Parliamentary hairdresser.
Also honours for Ben Houchen, currently at the heart of a media storm about dodgy property deals.  His huge regeneration project in Teesside is subject to a government investigation regarding the governance, finance and value for money.
*
(Interesting point – Tory MPs Allister Jack and Nigel Adams were offered peerages, but decided to wait, since accepting now would trigger by-elections.
Why were they offered at all, do you think?)
*
So … this means Michael Fabricant is now Sir Michael Fabricant.  Like, actually.  Genuinely.
Nice one, Rishi. Thank goodness you understand AIs.
5.44pm
The Guardian’s Pippa Crerar - journalist who brought down Big Dog one Partygate reveal at a time - tweets her guide to he honours list:
Martin Reynolds, former PPS, invited 200 officials to drinks in Downing St garden.  He told officials to "bring your own booze", later adding: "We seem to have got away with it".
Shelley Williams-Walker, getting a Damehood, was No 10 head of opps & now runs his office.  At No 10 party the night before Prince Philip's funeral she was dubbed "DJ SWW" for her banger playlist.
Jack Doyle & Rosie Bate-Williams, who get OBEs, were press spox who repeatedly denied the parties happened
Dan Rosenfield, who gets a peerage, quit in mass exodus of senior No 10 staff as anger over Partygate grew.  Former chief of staff faced reports he was among senior Downing Street officials who attended a Christmas quiz when restrictions were in place.
Shaun Bailey, who ran unsuccessfully for London mayor, gets a peerage, and Ben Mallett, a close friend of Carrie Antoinette's who ran Zac Goldsmith’s disastrous mayoral campaign, gets an OBE. Both are in this picture of a lockdown-flouting party at CCHQ:
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What a sea of punchable faces.
7.58pm
But we've been so focused on Nadine! She's fucked up her juggling, look, but she's sliding around on the rollerskates, ever so distracting. But here's the thing, Tumblrs, here's the thing:
Among all of this, what's the Chief Clown doing?
The Privilege Committee reveals in their draft report that Boris Johnson misled Parliament, and recommends a sanction of more than 10 days.
Does that sound too little? Are you wishing it were smething more meaningful? Let me help put it in context.
This sanction would be enough to trigger a by-election in Johnson’s seat.
8.02pm
Boris Johnson
QUITS
as an MP
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The committee said Johson had “impugned the integrity” of the House of Commons. Fascinating! I didn't know its honour had ever been pugned.
He accuses the inquiry of trying to “drive me out”!!!!
"It is very sad to be leaving parliament - at least for now - but above all I am bewildered and appalled that I can be forced out, anti-democratically, by a committee chaired and managed, by Harriet Harman, with such egregious bias".
Worth noting that the committee has a Conservative majority, mind. But you mustn't let things like facts get in the way of your feelings, BlowJo. You never have as a politician. Nor as a journalist, come to that.
(Also SIDE NOTE – “at least for now”??  What are you planning, Big Dog??  I suppose Nadine is leaving an empty seat...)
8.41pm
Christopher Hope of the Daily Telegraph reports he’s heard rumours of a THIRD Tory MP potentially resigning – and another Johnson loyalist at that. Lol. Trololol. Lmao, even. Perhaps rofl.
11.43pm
And finally, the day is wrapped up with the Guardian revealing their front cover for the following day:
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Big Dog is OUT, hot trans bloke is IN.
Not a bad finish.
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dcxdpdabbles · 8 months
Note
Cave boy Danny has way to much fun fucking with the bats after a while. Jason is too until Danny bites him after some unwanted human contact. Alfred gets a big wave of nostalgia when Danny does it too.
Danny can say that the Waynes have been ridiculously welcoming, all things considered. He still hasn't come clean about not being Bruce Wayne's alternative double, so to throw them off from finding out the truth and have a safe place to crash- he's missed plumbing- he has been invited to the Wayne Manor and has been lazing about when under their watch.
If there was one thing apparent, it was that Bruce Wayne did not laze about. It was mind-blowing to those who knew him to see Danny- a version of Bruce- act like walking across the room for a remote was too much work.
It drove them mad to see such a difference between them, and thus, none of the Waynes noticed Danny's side project to get home.
The Waynes gave him a giant room and helped set up a fake Identity for him while they worked on getting him home. To the public, he was Danny Kane, a long-lost relative recently coming to Bruce for help.
Thanks to the support of Jacob and Kate, they agree to make it seem that Jack Kane- Danny's made-up father- was the result of Bruce's material grandfather having a fling after his wife's death. Jake was hidden from the public eye but had his father's financial support until he was an adult.
Jack was never bitter and told Danny stories of his wayward father, filled with love to prove it. These stories inspired Danny to seek out the remaining Kanes after Jack's untimely death, which led him to Bruce as Martha Wayne nee Kane's son.
The day Danny would be sent home, the Waynes would fake his death, and no one would be the wiser that Danny Kane never existed.
Fine by Danny
. He only planned to stick around long enough to get his ship ready and pinpoint a location that had the vile between the living and dead thin enough to slice his way back to the Ghost Zone.
Unlike Wulf, who could open portals wherever he wanted, Danny had to find points weak enough to punch a hole through. He knows his parent's portal was way out of his set of skills, and he sure as hell wasn't going to give anyone the idea to build their own here. Two percent of portals were already two too many.
He mostly hung around the house- with someone always close by in a poor attempt to hide the fact they were watching him. Most of the time, Danny was either lazing around the house, eating and sleeping, and it felt like a costly vacation.
He refused to help on the coms when the Bats went out to kick ass, even after Dick offered to sit in front of monitors and relay information to the heroes like he was offering the chance of a lifetime.
This seems to disturb everyone else in the house except for Alfred.
If anything, the fact Danny straight-up refused to put on tights and rush into night to fight crime made Alfred adore him. The butler claimed he was worried everyone in the family would forget what everyday life was supposed to feel like.
A few Waynes couldn't seem to wrap their heads around the concept.
"You're not interested at all?" Tim asks, eyes narrowed. He was among the few who thought Danny was suspicious for not wanting to risk his life to fight the corrupted system.
"Nah, man, I'm good here. I got my nachos, I got a movie room and I got the softest bathrobe ever bathrobe." Danny snuggles more profoundly into the pink plush robe that Steph had lent him. "Why would I want to ruin any of these? Sides, I can't even throw a punch."
".....There has never been a single alternative Bruce Wayne that wasn't involved in this life in some way. If not as a hero then he was a villain. Bruce as a villain is one of the most dangerous things that can ever happen across the multiverse" Tim reveals grimly. "We've won every single encounter but only by the skin of our teeth."
"Damn. Let me guess. You guys beat the evil Bruces by sending his kids after him."
"Yes."
"Problem solve. You already know you can kick my ass, so if I try anything, you can take me out, right?" Danny doesn't wait for a answer. He turns away from the teenager to stare at the movie screen showing his picked movie. "I can do nothing but tremble before your bat might."
Tim steps into his line of sight. "I mean it. You do anything to harm this family and will regret it."
"Does that mean I can't bite Jason again? That sucks. It's the only way I can get him to stop trying to drag me to galas. He wants to scare the other rich people with my poor people's manners."
Tim's lip twitches and Danny knows he's fighting to keep his face under control. "You didn't have to lock your jaw in like that."
"I really did. Jason tested me."
Tim tilts his head. "You don't really feel like Bruce. You look just like him at fifteen. Alfred says you act just like him. But for the last three weeks, you've been trying really hard to make it seem like you're okay with doing nothing."
"I am comfortable doing nothing."
"I think you're lying," Tim says, moving closer to stare down into Danny's eyes with frankly a manic glare. Danny's core flares up with the sense of challenge he finds in that dark blue gaze.
Which is a first for a human, and frankly is terrifying. If Tim had been a ghost he would have easily been an Ancient assistant or a baby Ancient. He has to be able to match Danny's power like this. Holy shit.
"I think your parents didn't give you enough love as a child, and now you seek approval from everyone around you while trying to push everyone away because you are too scared to make yourself valuable. You find yourself in an endless loop of self-doubt and self-hate by doing both simultaneously." Danny blurts. He watches Tim freeze, then winces. "Shit, sorry, the psychoanalyze came out as a reflection. Forget that."
Tim is still frozen in a way Danny recognizes as someone hearing something challenging to come to terms with. This is why he needs to break the habit of using Jazz's psyche training as a weapon.
He forgets not everyone insults each other with their deepest insecurities. That's just how he and Jazz love.
"...Do you want to watch the Grey Ghost Marathon with me?" He asks after a long pause. Tim closes his eyes before plumping down next to him.
"I like that."
Neither mention Jason, who is gasping in the last row of seats and attempting to suppress muffled laughter behind the wrist cast that Danny lovingly gave him at the last gala.
On a side note, Danny Kane is called "Rabid Dog." by the elites of Gotham, who watched the boy make three grown men cry after two minutes of talking to him and also witness four Waynes attempt to pry his mouth open screaming, "No Danny drop it. drop it!" while the boy munched on Jason's wrist.
No one has noticed that half of the tech has disappeared.
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rash0roar · 2 months
Text
𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐬 🩷 𝐋𝐮𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
Summary : Lucifer and reader get invited to Ozzie and Fizz's wedding, and Lucifer has a surprise planned at the end
★ type : fluff
★ warnings : a bit of suggestive language <3
a / n : I saw two Twitter posts and the idea came fast tbh ; sorry if there are some grammar mistakes I forgot to fix ; this is my first story and post so I hope you'll enjoy <3
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"Lucifer! Lucifer!" The sound of excited steps echoed through the lonely halls of Lucifer's castle. You excitedly barged into his rubber duck filled office holding an envelope. "Woah Woah love! What's the rush? " Stopping in front of your boyfriend you smiled, jumping up and down. "Lucifer you won't believe what we got!" You handed him the paper, that has been opened once, smiling and gesturing him to open it again. Lucifer looked at the envelope closely. " 's from Ozzie? You nodded. "Mhm!"
Opening the envelope, Lucifer took out the latter and it's- , an invitation? "An invitation? To what?" Lucifer looked at you seeing your smile became wider and your eyes were sparkling. Lucifer looked at the invitation reading it closely. You quietly laughed at his eyes becoming wider by the second. "Ozzie getting married?!? Well, that's certainly something I'd never thought I'd catch in this life. Hm, seems like the wedding is next week" "I know! Isn't it great! It's gonna be so fun- oh, I forgot, are you ok with getting out love? If it's too much we can stay home, I don't mind" "Are you kidding? This is the first time I'm actually excited in my boots for something! Besides it's Ozzie. He's, well, he's my best friend, kind of. So I can at least go to his wedding as a sorry for not talking to him as we usually would do" You smiled at your lover sweetly. "That's so sweet of you Lucifer" You said while kissing his forehead. At that he smiled. "Well, I guess someone should go search for some matching outfits for us don't you think?" His face became a tint of pink at the sight of your eyes lighting up. "Matching?! Really?! You bet! Let your girlfriend take care of this" You gave him a kiss on the cheek before turning around and running to another room.
Lucifer made sure you were far enough before he slowly closed his office doors. "Oh my golly, oh my golly! Ok Lucifer calm down, you already discussed this with Ozzie, it's gonna be ok you definitely got this don't panic. . . OH WHO AM I KIDDING I'M PANICKING RIGHT NOW!!" He took his phone and started texting Ozzie, searching for some sort of support from his friend. While walking in circles around his office, Lucifer looked at the little box hidden well from your eyes in his office.
The week has passed quite fast, you and Lucifer were getting more and more excited for what was about to come. In the morning of the wedding, you were in yours and Lucifer's room, preparing the outfits you were about to wear. In the other room Lucifer was tapping his feet on the floor nervously, thinking about the surprise he had planned for you. He remembers well when he went to Ozzie for support, telling him his idea. The sin of Lust was more than happy to help, suggesting Lucifer to wait for the right time. Never in a million years did Lucifer think that, Ozzie would text him and say that his wedding is the perfect time. He found it weird. He felt bad too. His friend was good at heart, but a part of him felt bad for accepting his idea despite the fact that this was not about him, but his friend. "Lucifer! Come on we have to get ready! No time to waste!" He laughed at the sound of your voice, forgetting his thoughts from earlier.
As he entered the room, he saw you searching through your drawers. You lifted your head and looked at him. "There you are! Come on Lu, get dressed will you? We have a lot to do besides getting dressed" "And that would be what, my love?" "Well your hair and makeup of course! You're the king of hell, you need to look nice remember that" Lucifer laughed, this was one of his favorite ways of you showing you loved him. Always making sure he looks good when he goes out. He loved that about you. Lucifer went to pick up his outfit. He saw you choose two suits, he remembered you mentioning that dresses weren't for you. He would always disagree. Both of the suits were red with gold and just a bit of white, since white is worn by the married couple. The red suit didn't look too different from his regular one, just that he would have to wear a white and gold shirt beneath it. Your suit, was also a red one with a long tailcoat, Lucifer thought that it's so that he could represent the back of a dress, as the back of his suit was straight, yours had a wavey back. The fact that Lucifer would finally wear matching outfits with you brought a red color to his cheeks.
After a while, you both were ready to go. Lucifer was missing his hat ( also complaining about it ) as you had your hair styled in an "elf way" you said to Lucifer after you did it ( Lucifer never understood your movie references ), tied in a very nice pin with roses and an apple ( gift from the king himself ). "I guess you're ready no?" You nodded taking his hand as the Lucifer tapped the cane on the ground and teleported to you at the location of the wedding. And oh my were you stunned.
You never knew hell had a forest before. Well, you've figured the wedding will be in a hidden place. Lucifer told you once the fact that not many people knew about Ozzie's relationship with an imp, he has told you that the sins and royal princes were looked down on if that were to happen. That made you question if you were enough for him lots of times. "My my is that Lulu I see?!?" Looking in front of you, you saw a yellow fox with wings with a neon light to replace her stomach. "Boy I haven't seen you in years! How 've ya been?" Lucifer smiled at her. "Well, I couldn't miss this even if I wanted right? Oh! Right! Ahem. Love, this is Beelzebub! I've told you a lot about her remember?" "OMG! Is this your new girlfriend? Girl you are adorable! Call me Bee, you're like, my bestie now. What's your name?" "I'm Y/N! It's nice to finally meet you Bee!" "You're absolutely gorgeous, I like love your voice! You should definitely come to my parties one time!" You laughed. If she was like that, you couldn't wait to meet Asmodeus for the first time. "Now you two lovebirds come on! You both have to meet the crew!" You looked at Lucifer. He was nervous, he never was the kind to be around people. You put a reassuring hand on his shoulder smiling. He smiled back. "I'll be fine, don't worry my duckling" He smiled and took your hand following Bee inside. The inside was very pretty too. You haven't been to a wedding since forever, you enjoyed it. It wasn't a surprise there weren't many people. Bee was gesturing you and Lucifer to come, you've both gone to her, as you were walking, you saw two other hellhounds on both of Bee's sides, a group of little imps and two goetias. You had to remind Lucifer about the beauty of hell after this. "Ok now you guys, this right here, is my boyfriend Vortex, and this here is my favorite person ever Loona! You'll love them once you get to know them!" "Hello you two! Nice to meet you!" You said while Lucifer nodded and gave a small wave. "Nice to meet ya too your majesty" "Yo" Your majesty? Well that's new. "No ,uh, please don't call me that! Me and Lucifer we are not engaged so I'm not really the queen" You couldn't miss how all three smiled at each other after you've said that. Did you say something funny? While looking at them you failed to notice Lucifer's red face next to you.
"So you're the king of hell's new bitch huh? I'm Blitz! And I'm the leader of the imp! And these two lovebirds behind me are M&M. Actually, Millie and Moxxie. And that there is my lovely daughter Loona! Hi Loonie!" "ADOPTED" "Lucifer. Lucifer they are adorable what the actual hell" "You think so? Well, I can't argue with you I guess"
You couldn't keep it, the little imps were absolutely adorable! The gotia demons too! Stolas and his daughter Octavia were very nice , you found it relaxing to stay around them. Although, you've been meaning to ask if Stolas is ok, he always seemed to be tired and sad.
The rest of the night was absolutely amazing! You swore you'd never forget it. Not even the fact that you and Lucifer were asked to be the man and lady of honor in the last moment! Looking at the couple, you were thinking, what if you and Lucifer were in that place? Here in hell, with these people at your wedding. You wished it could be you indeed, but, you were happy for them. These kind of things weren't too common in hell, heck they don't happen at all actually! Seeing this, you hoped Lucifer would see the good part in hell.
As the night went on you noticed that everyone started on getting more and more excited, and Lucifer, more and more...frustrated..? Why was that? What's happening? Is there something you should know? "Alright everyone! Listen up!" You looked in the direction of where the voice was coming from, it was Fizz's. "I'm throwing this flower bouquet, so let's see who's the lucky bitch that'll catch it!" ONE - everyone was getting ready - TWO - everyone's on their position - THREE!! GO!!!" "I got it I got" "Nuh uh! I do! " As Blitz and Bee were fighting, forgetting about the bouquet, you watched it carefully, closer, closer, and - "I GOT IT I GOT IT! HAH! YES! I GO - why is everyone looking at me like that?" You turned back at everyone, noticing everyone looked at you smiling softly, or, at something.. behind you? "Why is everyone - ohmydear" Turning behind you, you saw him. Lucifer was behind you, on one knee, looking at you with a soft smile. "Y/N, I know this is really sudden but, you've been beside me for a long time, you've helped me through my problems, supported me and took care of me. I love you so much, I really really do, so will you please...make me the happiest man in hell and, marry me?" You could see it, he was crying, as he opened the box that revealed a beautiful golden ring, you looked at him with your hands over your mouth, you could not, not cry. You nodded, sobbing loudly running in Lucifer's arms and hugging him tightly. "Yes, a hundred times yes, Lucifer I love you!" "Me too, me too my love. You have no idea" He took your face in his arms and kissed you. "LET'S FUCKING GO SHE SAID YES YEEAAAHHHH!!" EVERYONE OPEN THE CHAMPAGNE BOTTLES!" You and Lucifer laughed at the sight of Bee, Blitz, Ozzie and Fizz laughing and screaming at the news. Millie, Moxxie and Stolas were beyond happy, Millie hugged you while Stolas was staying besides Lucifer, congratulating him for it.
You all knew?" "Well yeah! We all helped him actually, man was he a big ball of stress and anxiety. But hey he did it! Yes! Finally! Man I'm SO HAPPY! Let me be your lady of honor pleeeeaaase?" "Of course Bee!" "Sooo, when's the wedding?" You looked at Lucifer"Yeah, when is it?" "How about next month? YOU'RE ALL INVITED NO ONE ELSE THOUGH! "YYEAAAAHHHHH"
They were happy, all of them. You squished Lucifer's hand. "Thank you, Lucifer" "No love, I thank you, I think the wedding will go well, don't you?" "Yeah - you said watching everyone party like at the beginning of the party - yeah me too" You turned at Lucifer and kissed him lovingly as he returned it.
Once the party ended, you both went to bed and cuddled next to each other. And as Lucifer whispered a love you, after you did the same you both fell asleep, the moonlight reflecting in you and Lucifer's golden rings.
a / n : let me know if you guys want a part 2 with Lucifer and the reader's wedding! <3
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lunarduty · 3 months
Text
𝙋𝙊𝙐𝙍 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝘿𝙄𝙍𝙏 𝙄𝙉𝙏𝙊 𝙊𝙐𝙍 𝘽𝙀𝘿
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☾ sfw & nsfw headcanons for dating soap JOHNNY 'SOAP' MACTAVISH X F!READER TAGS | nsfw. smut. oral (female receiving). female reader. WC | 2,063 x
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SFW
☾ in his mind, he was already your boyfriend before even becoming official. soap is fiercely LOYAL and dedicated - just as soon as he realized the depths of his feelings, he was yours before you even knew it. stopped so much as looking at other people, much less thinking or fantasizing about them. for soap, you were it. he just had to convince you to go out with a guy like him, which is very soap. not always looking before he jumps.
☾ he loves calling himself your boyfriend, or calling you his girl. soap isn’t one to try and make it lowkey or anything. he wouldn’t be unprofessional - disrespecting or making you look bad is the last thing he wants. but soap will insert the fact into mundane little conversations whenever he can. the team quickly gets tired of it long before he does.
“soap, you joining us for drinks after the debrief?” “don’t know,” he says, sounding awfully CHIPPER for someone who might miss out on a night at the pub. “gotta check in with my girl, see if she wants to do anything tonight. missed out on lunch with her, y’know.” he was still beating himself up over that. you kept insisting it was fine - you both have crazy schedules sometimes. but soap didn’t want to make it a habit of blowing you off. gaz nodded like he agreed - soap didn’t think he really got what it meant to be your boyfriend.
☾ his favorite thing in the world is making you laugh, and he does it so easily. and a lot of the time, he doesn’t even mean to. soap can be blunt and cheeky sometimes, and his smart mouth has gotten him in hot water more often than not - but he’s always very happy to make you laugh, even accidentally. always acts kinda proud when his jokes land perfectly. or if he’s not in a great mood, but ends up saying something that makes you laugh, it always brightens his mood.
☾ while he usually finds one petname and sticks with it, soap is known to call you different ones - each worse and more SAPPY than the last. they’re never spoken seriously, he just enjoys seeing your nose wrinkle and look at him as if he just tracked dog shit into the house. it’s one of his favorite ways to tease you without feeling like he’s going too far, like he does with some of his mates.
with his nose buried against your neck, and the slowly thump of your heart vibrating on his chest, soap was damn near close to following you into unconsciousness. it had been a chaotic last few days - the mere chance to cuddle up with you in bed had him relaxed beyond the point of needing a quick fuck to tire him out. at least until you shifted your legs, and your icy toes pressed against his legs. “fuck, lass. toes are fuckin’ freezing,” he hisses against your shoulder. you just hum, not bothering to reply, more interested in finally falling asleep. he hums in return, and condemns himself to the icy torture. “lucky i love ya, my l’il popsicle.” “jesus, johnny.”
☾ generally enjoys going out on dates than staying home. of course, if you’re more of a homebody or he just doesn’t feel up to going out, a home date is perfectly fine with him. but soap likes going out and experiencing things - most of all, he wants to show you off. absolutely loves walking down the street with you on his arm, or you pulled against his side. tries to get some leave every few months so you two can travel somewhere, but usually, soap’s idea of a good date is simply going somewhere and having fun.
☾ gets super soft when you start getting comfortable around him. before the relationship began, you two were good friends - there was already a layer of comfort and familiarity before, but it’s different when you start dating. so one night, when you both are just chilling on the couch, and you start cackling at a joke on the TV or ugly-crying during a sad scene, soap just REVELS in it. he’s heard how far some people go not to show certain sides of themselves to their partners, and he’s super pleased that you don’t feel like you need to do that with him. on the flip side, soap immediately gets super goofy with you right off the bat, so it’s not like you’re alone in your silliness.
☾ don’t think you can outkiss this man. don’t even try to challenge him. soap mactavish is a man made for kissing and he will do it all day if you let him. your eyes in the morning to wake you up, on your cheek before he leaves, your hand after meeting up for lunch, your lips when he gets home at the end of the day, your neck while doing the dishes, your forehead after a good fuck before falling asleep. soap loves being able to kiss you whenever he wants and he takes full advantage of that privilege.
☾ arguments aren’t super common, but they do happen. soap can be stubborn and sometimes doesn’t see the wider picture. he forgets to take your feelings into account. arguments are usually resolved pretty painlessly, since soap knows he can be dumb sometimes and he doesn’t let his pride get in the way of apologizing. even still, he likes to go out of his way when it comes to make ups. he doesn’t like feeling guilty and can go a little overboard in comparison to the argument.
“so, you forgive me yet, bonnie?” “hmm,” you draw out the hum, even if the smile on your face negates the tension, “i haven’t decided yet.” suppressing his own grin, johnny throws his hands up in defeat. reclines back in his chair with a sigh and a shake of his head - always with the theatrics. “yeah, i figured ya say that. but i’ve learned to never enter a battle without a secret weapon.” “making up for a fight is a battle for you, is it?” your question, though a joke, made him pause. “well, no, i didn’t- fuck’s sake, lass. take it easy on me.” johnny stands, his hands clapping together. “i was listenin’, though. i know you feel all alone when i’m gone so much, and i’m sorry. wish i could change it.” of course, you knew he couldn’t just uproot his whole life. some of the things you said during the argument weren’t even exactly how you felt - just something said in the moment. “johnny, hold on, i didn’t mean-” “hey, hey, i’m not done.” he backs away from you toward the bedroom. “last thing i want is you to be here feelin’ all LONELY again. so i got something to fix all that.” he finally turns and makes for the bedroom door. when you stand and follow to watch, you notice how carefully he opened and slid right past. like he didn’t want you coming in. but you realized right away it was because he didn’t want something getting out. “a puppy? john, this is-” “great, right? can cuddle up to him when i’m not here!”
☾ definitely thinks about marriage super early on, but doesn’t really bring it up because he doesn’t wanna come off as weird or creepy. but honestly, soap knew you were the one right away. he’s not out looking at rings or wedding venues - he just kinda ACCEPTS that he’s gonna marry you. might make little jokes or comments here and there. jokingly calls you his wife or “the missus.” so when he eventually does pop the question, he’s a little taken aback when you’re caught off guard. and then he remembers that, oh yeah, he’s always been mentally married to you since basically forever.
NSFW
☾ it’s not hard at all to tell when soap is in the mood. he’s going to get very touchy if you let him - from soft grazes of his fingers along your skin to straight up groping your ass when you walk by. he is an absolute menace when he’s horny. loves coming up behind you when you’re doing something and just squeezing your hips and kissing your neck. grinds his cock against your ass, as if it isn’t painfully obvious how wound up he is.
☾ foreplay with soap is more fun than anything. there are rare moments when he’s silent and serious and focused, but mostly, he likes to keep it light. makes you laugh before sucking on your tits to take your breath away. says some dumb comment when you’re grinding against his thigh to distract you, only to suddenly change pace and laugh when you whimper. he sees sex with you as something to 100% ENJOY and making sure the both of you have fun with it…
☾ …that is until soap gets completely pussy-drunk off you and just shuts the fuck up and enters this kind of tunnel vision when he’s eating you out. it happens a good 60% of the time - he starts out his usual light and teasing self, kissing your thighs, asking you if you want to fuck his mouth. but just as soon as he gets his tongue on your clit and his fingers buried knuckle-deep, it’s so easy for him to just get lost in it. will make you cum twice before he realizes it, and is almost confused when you’re begging him to stop, or at least give you a break. 
“fu- fuck, johnny! i can’t- shit, you need to stop.” those words seem to finally break him of his little trance. your little moans and whimpers of his name are always MELODIC in a way that makes him want to hear more and more. but hearing you ask him to stop makes soap blink and pull his face away - lips parted in his panting, chin glistening. “okay, bonnie?” he asks, a hand squeezing your hip. you’re breathing hard. skin flushed. chin tilted upward with your eyes closed and he wonders just how hard you came. or how many times. “i’m okay,” you answer quickly. “just…need a break. or just fuck me - that works too.” a wide grin spreads over his face, and when he pulls his fingers free, the soft squelching sound almost makes him shiver. “just said the fuckin’ magic words, beautiful.”
☾ not at all picky with positions, so he usually just tries a bunch of different ones or follows your lead. there’s something to enjoy with all of them, so how can he have a favorite? fucking you in missionary gets him on top, where he feels so big and strong and loves feeling you hold onto him like your life depends on it. when you ride him, he gets to watch your face the entire time, or play with your tits, or do anything he wants. getting you in doggy is great when soap is feeling especially FERAL and just wants to drive into you, grabbing your ass, tugging on your hair when he feels like he can’t hear you well enough. gun to his head, he can’t pick just one.
☾ soap does have a preference when he cums. as fucking fantastic as it feels to cum inside you, there’s something otherwordly about pulling out and painting your skin. he saves creampies for slow and sleepy sex (or when you beg for it), but every other time? soap is cumming on your back, your belly, your thighs, your face, your tits. anywhere and everywhere is fair game for him. he’s definitely taken a picture when the sight is too good to leave to memory. eventually deletes them because he doesn’t want them to somehow get out, but not before using it as wank material while he’s away.
☾ very gentle and attentive with aftercare. sex with soap isn’t especially rough or intense most of the time, but he still doesn’t slack on it. kissing you good and proper after you both cum, letting you know just how much he loves you. always gets something to clean you up and talking while he does so - soap is a chatterbox anyway, but more so after sex because he doesn’t want you to start feeling awkward. lots of cuddles and touches when he climbs into bed - but be warned, he does tend to nod off pretty soon.
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facefullofsadness · 2 months
Note
The world needs guitarist winter!! 🗣🗣🔥🔥🔥 (i die a little each time i see her with a guitar)
AGREE!!! everyday that has passed since 230225 winter playing guitar at synk hyper line in seoul for the first time has just been me trying to recover and seek guidance bc damn, she ruined my life and it's all I've been able to think about
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content - rockstar guitarist!winter, best friend's sister!winter, dom!winter, includes txt members (beomgyu and yeonjun) and giselle, song references, smut (messy and wild sex, slight degradation, fingering, cunnilingus, strap-on usage, choking, breeding kink, quickies, squirting, vibrator usage, semi-public sex/voyeurism)
wc - 3122
a/n - a loaded one since it's been a while. I had sm fun writing this in general, but especially a certain part (I think u'll be able to tell when u get there), I was laughing my ass off so fking hard. also I just got a haircut that's very wolf-cut-y so it helped a whole bunch to get into writing this lol, committed to the bit!
winter's a damn good guitarist.
she's fuckinggg hotttt too when she plays and she knows it. watched a vid of her recently doing her guitar solo during girls and after the final riff she smirked at the camera and I LITERALLY COMBUSTED DEAR LORD.
anyway, I imagine her in a rock band, one with beomgyu, and they're both just the hot, wolf-cut, dark emo guitarists. you're the lead singer and front man of the band and were the reason the band formed in the first place. you were besties with beomgyu and you two wrote and composed music from time to time, always having the idea of a band as a passion project at the back of your minds.
eventually, gyu recruited his sister, minjeong. the three of you worked together diligently, recruiting yeonjun as a drummer who knew and dragged along aeri as a bassist. it was truly a dream come true, getting to pursue what you're passionate about the most with your best friend and a group of people just as enthusiastic as you were.
though, it was hard to focus with such a pretty girl like kim minjeong breathing down your neck at all times. you, beomgyu, and minjeong would primarily work together on music, usually going from the afternoon until after midnight hours. while minjeong was only a few months older than your best friend, she'd boss him around and push him to go home, saying it was late and that their mom needed to see at least one of them to know they were okay. he'd groan and complain about it, especially since you and him were the main collaborators for songs and were the best when you were together, but she'd always promise to take good care of you, whatever that meant (huehuehue).
beomgyu cares more about you as a little sister than he does his own sister so when he gets confirmation that she'll take care of you, he accepts it and goes home early, leaving you and minjeong in the studio alone. you bite your lip as you watch the door close, your friend leaving you behind with her.
"just you and me now, huh pretty?" the girl leans into you on the couch.
you shift uncomfortably at the close proximity and try to subtly scooch away, "uh yeah, I guess so... we should try to finish this arrangement before we get out of here."
you try your best to compose yourself and act professional, hearing minjeong's deep chuckle next to you, "alright then."
actually getting work done and writing some lyrics alongside figuring out the instrumental arrangement with minjeong since she's the other guitarist, besides beomgyu (also bc he left). you tell her that you get frustrated with the fact you're not that good at playing, her having asked why you don't just make the arrangements yourself. and so, she decides to teach you! well, "teach you."
placing her acoustic Silvertone on your lap and crawling up slowly behind you, her warm body pressed up against your back, the brush of her lips against your ear making you shiver. she brings her arms over and places her hands over yours, guiding them around the strings and assisting with the chords.
she whispers deep and raspy into your ear various instructions, "if you cover this entire fret and press down on these strings, you'll get the F Barre chord. it's a little difficult but nothing you can't manage, right princess?"
"the placement kinda hurts..." you complain, feeling the burn of the metal strings against your skin.
"it'll be a little painful when you start, but with practice you'll get better. you have to press down harder than that though," her pressing your fingers down harder against the nylon strings.
whining softly at the pain, making her lips come closer to your ear, "come on baby, you can do it, a little pain goes a long way. I know you can handle it."
a chill runs down your spine at her words, proceeding to repeatedly attempt to strum the chord correctly until the sound was full.
"good girl, it wasn't that bad right?" you turn to face her, her lips just centimeters away from yours.
your breath picks up at her proximity and a smirk tugs at her lips, moving her face into your neck and hotly sighing against it.
"how badly do you want it, hm? how badly do you want me to fuck you like a rockstar?"
your grip on her guitar tightens as her mouth trails around your neck, gasping when you feel her tongue drag across slowly.
"what do you think you're doing?"
"nothing you don't want me to already, sweetheart."
you lean into her touch, moving your hand away from the body of the guitar to lace your fingers through her soft wolf-cut hair, pulling her head in further into your neck, now placing wet kisses against the skin.
you suddenly shoot your eyes open at the realization of what you two are doing and stutter, "I-I don't think we should be doing th-this... we need to finish the arrangement... and also, y-your brother, what will h-he think?"
you stumble over your words as minjeong just hums in response to, continuing to leave sloppy marks across your neck, feeling her make hickeys on parts of your skin that wouldn't be noticeable.
"we have all the time in the world to finish the song. but what about gyu? did you want him instead then?" she asks, almost threateningly, challenging you to say yes.
in response, you whimper and pull her head in further towards your neck, practically begging her not to go away.
"don't you feel ashamed letting your best friend's sister do this to you? or are you just a slut?"
you don't answer, only shut your eyes and bite your lip. minjeong doesn't like that, resulting in her hand to pull you by the hair backwards, head facing the ceiling. your eyes shot open at the contact and you see her blown pupils staring into yours.
her voice comes out low and dark, "answer me whore. tell me what you are, I wanna hear you say it."
you gulp down a lump in your throat, debating if you should listen to her or to your morals. all sense jumps out the window when she sexily raises her eyebrow at you, an expectant expression sitting on her aroused face.
fuck it whatever, she's too fucking hot, "I'm your slut, minjeong, all yours."
finishing the arrangement? what a joke! she has your legs spread wide open on the soundboard, skillful fingers pumping in and out of your squelching cunt, your head thrown back, moaning into the hot air of the studio. her one hand plunging deep into your pussy while the other one is wrapped around your waist, holding you close, keeping your thighs propped open with her body. and she's just watching you, her mouth slightly open and lips a deep dark plump red, her messy hair tousled, bangs sticking to her sweaty forehead. she loves watching how your face contorts in response to her digits curling to hit that delicious spot in your hole, hitting it repeatedly, her palm slapping against your clit with every quick thrust of her hand. the sounds of your croaky moans, wet and clenching pussy, and her heavy breathing fill the sound-proof room, the thought of productivity not even grazing either of your minds.
the pleasure built so much, you felt that knot in your stomach tighten. minjeong quickened her pace as she felt your legs start to shake around her, sensing how close you were to cumming. it was all too much and you suddenly orgasmed, crying out moans with every wave of delight that surged through your body, thighs trembling, eyes rolled back and mouth hung open, your hands gripping her shoulders for dear life. she intently watched with a lustful stare at every expression your face made while you came, memorizing how good you looked when she fucked you. pulling her fingers out and collecting every drop of cum you leaked onto her hand and wrist, licking it clean until a thin sheet of her saliva remained.
"open your fucking mouth and stick your tongue out," she demanded with a deep voice.
you obeyed and gagged, feeling her tongue shove itself down your throat, forcefully swallowing her saliva and your cum. drool seeped out the sides of your lips as she continued her onslaught in your mouth, feeling her clothed hips grind against your sensitive clit, moans slipping out of your throat in the form of gags.
she'd pull away suddenly, tongue exiting your mouth with a wet slurping noise, making you cough. "you. are. mine. remember that."
she'd remind you, running her damp fingers through her hair.
these late night escapades continued to occur with every single long session held in the studio (she definitely recorded some audios of you guys fucking for sureeee). the creative part of you wanted beomgyu to stay and help with the music, but the sinful part of you so desperately wanted him to leave as soon as possible to have his sister all to yourself. your best friend never caught on to you and minjeong, but oh, yeonjun and aeri caught on like THAT. the tension between you two was so palpable, the two older members would side eye you during practices and giggle to each other, watching the two of you eye fuck from across the room.
eventually, the band's popularity would build and proceed to skyrocket, leading to your guys' first tour. tour meant performing together, traveling together, being with each other, and ultimately, tour meant being with minjeong. and so when management would get 3 hotel rooms for you all, 1 for the boys, 1 for the girls, and well, 1 for aeri being the sleeping beauty she is, rooming with minjeong meant a few things. practicing together, writing and composing together, and sleeping together (for the girls in the back, SEX).
throwing you onto the bed as soon as you reach your hotel room, tearing your clothes off and pinning you down, sloppily kissing each other. she'd prep you by eating you out, sticking her wet muscle inside of your leaking core, caressing your walls and flicking against your g-spot. you bit down hard on the pillow, muffling your moans as her thumb covered in her saliva rubbed against your throbbing clit. her pulling away right before you came and putting on a strap-on she brought on tour (for you of course!), wasting no time in thrusting it into you.
the pillow probably did nothing to silence your screams as she mercilessly fucked you into the mattress, hand pressing down on your lower stomach to feel her cock pumping in and out of you, the tip of her dick hitting your cervix again and again, her thumb still stimulating your clit. minjeong had your back arching, your hands flew everywhere, trying to grip onto anything to ground yourself, but nothing was enough, even as you screamed and bit down on your pillow. your eyes watered and your vision blurred as she rammed into you, the dark-haired girl moving her hands to wrap around your neck, choking you, gradually adding pressure with every rough thrust. her pants eventually became moans too, loving the feeling of the side of her strap hitting that delicious spot inside of her too, slapping her clit against yours as she bottomed out in you.
"I'm gonna fucking cum in you y/n, I'm gonna knock you up, fill you up until you're leaking both of us," minjeong growls above you, lowering her face to level with yours.
you feel tears fall down the sides of your face and your throat sore from another scream ripped out of you as well as her hands around your neck as she throws the pillow in your mouth onto the floor, attaching her mouth to yours instead. you cry onto her tongue as you orgasm against her strap, toes curling and legs wrapped around her waist, nails digging into minjeong's shoulders, cum gushing out of you as you feel her cock shoot fake ropes of white liquid into you, filling you up. you feel her shake in your arms too as she cums, her pleasure leaking out onto your thighs, soaking the bedsheets. she collapses on top of you, both of you desperately gasping for air, her dick still inside of you, keeping the fake cum from leaking out.
"good thing we have another bed."
of course being on tour also meant fucking in the green room before a performance. having done interviews all morning, having a concert for the tour tonight, minjeong was so mean! she had you wear a vibrator the entire day! it would be on the lowest setting up until the interviewer would ask you a question. she would turn up the intensity and you would squirm as you tried to answer, gripping your ripped jeans, almost causing another tear. and so when you two were left alone in the green room for just a minute, she took you right then and there, your legs wide open on the sofa, her mouth stimulating your clit while she increased the vibrator's setting to max, thrusting it in and out of you.
you were screaming in pleasure, all the built up tension in your stomach finally being relieved with each pump of the sex toy in your pussy. you clutched onto her leather jacket for dear life as you came all over her face, squirting everywhere. she licked as much as she could and you both worked quickly to clean before anyone came back. your members, staff, and the fans would notice you limping around on stage that night, winter with an especially evil smirk resting on her face.
being on tour also meant getting fingered in the bathroom backstage. it's literally 10 minutes to showtime, but minjeong NEEDED to fuck you now! her calloused fingers pumping in and out of you while you reciprocated fingering her too. both of your skirts hiked up and panties pushed to the side (no safety shorts? idk this is fiction, ignore it!), moaning desperately into each others mouths as you messily and sloppily made out against the bathroom stall door. curling your fingers at the same time, biting down on her lip while her fingernails dug into your thigh at the feeling. rolling your hips against her palm to stimulate your clit, her repeating the motion and pinning you harder to the door so that your bodies were flush against one another.
screaming into each other's mouths as you came at the same time, cum dripping down your wrist. quickly cleaning one another up (with your tongues, yup) and running to your places since there was literally THIRTY SECONDS to showtime! beomgyu confusedly looking at you two in frustration, asking where you guys had been, yeonjun and aeri rolling their eyes laughing, still lowkey irritated that you guys were LITERALLY FUCKING instead of getting ready to perform smh. everyone definitely noticed the redness in both of your cheeks. winter had fingered you with her calloused hand, the dampness making it more difficult to play the chords during that show, the band noticing the change in effectivity too (how technical!).
at some point, the fans would notice the tension between you two. who wouldn't ship the lead singer with the guitarist in a band anyway right? especially when it's the hot dark wolf-cut emo guitarist winter and the stunning pretty charismatic lead singer. but of course that wasn't the only reason, you guys were soooo obvious. you're singing the flirty and seductive lyrics towards her, minjeong returning a smirk back at you and sticking her tongue out while she fingerpicks her guitar, raising her eyebrows when she does. trailing your fingertips over her bare skin in skimpy outfits they'd put her in onstage, singing the lyrics into her ears.
or literally just flat out fucking saying it. like having those soundcheck Q&As where fans would ask you questions like "if you were to date one of the members, who would you date?"
answering each other's names at the same time, causing everyone to laugh in the audience, beomgyu gagging, and yeonjun and aeri holding back laughter. minjeong following up by saying something like "I mean, it's not like it hasn't happened before." LIKE WHAT ARE YOU SAYING?
or when you and winter are in an interview and they ask what the inspiration was behind a particular song, let's say a more sexy song, and she responds first, "well, every song that we've written has influences from our own personal experiences."
the interviewer would be like, "so then is it true when you sing quote 'I might fuck your friend, I made my mind up'?"
you blush profusely and winter just dies laughing, "I'll let you guys decide that one."
"y/n, you wrote "we go for hours and it's still good" correct?" the interviewer continues.
"yes yes but the details don't really matter do they?" you nervously laugh while minjeong drills holes into the side of your head, staring at you with a playful and sinister smirk on the side.
my favorite headcanon to think about is online discourse regarding you and minjeong. your guys' new mv dropped for your latest single and there are a bunch of scenes with you and winter acting like an angsty couple in the rain, making up in the end by having an alluded to sex scene (lmao, wild if this actually would ever happen).
I just imagine twt going INSANEEE.
slut4winter: DID Y/N AND WINTER FUCK AT THE END OF THE VIDEO?!?!?
y/nonechancepls: i literally cannot defend minjeong and y/n anymore...
beomgyuswolfcut: bro, winter fr cucked her brother from y/n 😭😭
aerifuckinguchinaga: win-y/n's chemistry is a lil too real yall 💀
drumjunyeonjun: not them saying it was their fav scene to film, the closet is made out of AIR, IM SICK OF U F WORDS !!!
and of course, despite all of this, your dear bestie and minjeong's brother doesn't catch on. at times, beomgyu will be all what the fuck is going on when you two say something that has double entendre or has some sort of underlying meaning.
yeonjun usually just pats him on the back while laughing, "oh my friend, never change, never change."
aeri being such a nosy friend LOVES hearing you rant about it, chin propped up on her fist, leaning forward against the table, a cheeky grin on her face. with every spicy detail, she's always just like, "girllll, you're insane and wild, but good for you!"
a/n - like rq, through a guitarist pov, winter is so attractively good at guitar it pisses me off. also headcanon songs this band would make are like wdywfm by the neighbourhood, sex by the 1975, do I wanna know by arctic monkeys, and slow down by chase atlantic. incredibly self indulgent hc and WHAT ABOUT IT!!
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honeytonedhottie · 2 months
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starting and managing ur blog⋆.ೃ࿔*:・🍰
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so you wanna start a blog? in this post i’ll break down effective ways to start, manage and maintain a blog (from my own experience of course) i hope u find this helpful ✨
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TOPIC AND IDEA ; 
to have a blog you need an idea or concept about what your blog will be about. make your blog about either something that you know a lot about/are proficient in.
or blog about something that u are learning about as a way to track ur progress and learn new information. you could blog about something that you love a lot etc etc. 
AESTHETIC ; 
what is your aesthetic? for me it’s hyper feminine and pink and just DIVINE. when u choose and stick to an aesthetic it’ll give ur blog kind of a signature which is important for the rest of this post. 
when u have an aesthetic in mind for ur blog make sure that you have plenty of pins on pinterest that mesh nicely with ur aesthetic so u can find things like headers, dividers, photos and emojis that suit the aesthetic of ur blog. 
RESOURCES ; 
pinterest is my holy grail for resources. there u can find headers and photos to use in ur posts to give ur audience something visually pleasing to look at while they read ur post. 
what ur gonna want to start off ur blog aesthetic and theme is ; 
a header 
a color scheme (for coloring/bolding words. and the colors for ur blog page in general)
an informative bio 
a pfp 
dividers 
START OFF POST IDEAS ; 
if u want to run a well organized blog there are a couple posts that i think are beneficial for u to make. in fact the most important post that i think any blog should have is a MASTERLIST.
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master lists are great for a multitude of things. they help ur audience to navigate ur blog easier and see all that you have to offer in one convenient tap of their finger. plus when u make navigating ur blog easy, more people will experience ur content which will mean more interactions with ur post.
not only does it help the audience but it also helps u to know what u did and didn’t post, so that u can plan effectively for the future. it’s also a fun way to see how much u posted. i recommend making a new masterlist every year or when you can’t put any more links onto it 💀. if u want a reference for a good masterlist you can check out mine right here.
CONSISTENCY ; 
consistency is key in anything and everything and blogging is no exception. i recommend not blogging in a competitive nature, rather i think in order to be consistent with something like a blog you should genuinely just do it for funsies/passion and as a way to have ur own authentic creative outlet.
i don’t have a set posting schedule bcuz i don’t want blogging to feel like a chore when in reality it’s just a hobby that happened to gain an audience because people enjoyed it. and because people enjoy what i write, it in return makes me happy and wanna write more.
SIGNATURE ; 
i cannot stress this enough but when u have a platform whether it’s small or big individuality sets you apart! have something that sets u apart like personalized hash-tags, a way that u talk, etc etc. 
personalize hash-tags with things like emojis. also, USE UR HASHTAGS because when someone looks up something like “self improvement” your post will be what they see if u add those hashtags.
furthermore if u personalize those hashtags it sets u apart and gives ur blog a kind of brand and individuality in a way. like a signature at the end of a post.
THINGS TO KEEP TRACK OF ;
what posts you’ve done/want to do
upcoming projects or ideas that u have
how your following/interactions are growing or shrinking
how much $ u get from tips
inbox questions or dms to answer
your plans and goals
your personalized hashtags
i hope this post was helpful to anyone who has been thinking about or wants to create their own blog, i encourage you to do so ✨
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angelltheninth · 10 months
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Perhaps you could write about how they would react if Y/N was bitten/stung by a breeding spider?. Yes, that's right, reproduction baby hehe. I don't care what the character's gender is. Would it be possible to describe the headcanons?👉🏻👈🏻
(I already apologize for the spelling mistakes, I'm using the translator :D)
Spiderverse🙏🏻
Oh fun, breeding kink is always fun.
Pairing: Ben Reilly, Peter B. Parker, Miguel O'Hara, Noir x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, breeding kink, feral sex, creampie, pregnancy mention, dirty talk, wall sex, rooftop sex, kind of sex pollen, pheromones
A/N: Added Ben this time around, I think I might include him in some other future stuff too.
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Ben doesn't want to take advantage of you when you come on to him and tell him about your problem. He also can't deny that he's very, very horny for you. Despite it not being a good idea he can't have you go home like this, he can't have you swinging in between buildings in such a state. But he needs to make sure you want this. Yanking his pants down and sucking his cock because you were so needy for cum is a good argument. The issue is you don't just need to taste him to make this go away, you also need to feel him inside you.
"You really want it? Are you sure, I need to know. I know its hard to talk while you're sucking on my dick but I need to be sure before we go any further. Baby, you know I want you, I want to tear that suit off your body and fill you with cum but I need you to say that you need me to do it. Hah, I'm not teasing you I promise."
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Peter is hesitant because you're currently on a rooftop together and you can't seem to move an inch without moaning. He can't leave you here and he can carry you because he knows the moment he touches you he won't be able to resist your charms. You don't want him to resist, you don't care that he's a hero and you a civilian, you need his cock and you need it now, you need his cum inside you, you need him to breed you right now. All this talk of breeding has his senses going haywire, his hands desperately finding your ass as you drop your pants and offer him your pussy, which he sinfully takes.
"I know you're scared right now, you don't know what's happening to you, but I promise I'll help. I'm here for you sweetheart. Ah, your pussy feels good around my cock, a wet mess and I just put it in. You won't last long, I know you won't but don't worry, just need to get some cum in that cunt and you'll be good as new won't you?"
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Miguel can't resist the pull the pheromones have on him. He's pinning you against the nearest wall, kissing you, teeth scraping against your neck as he tells you he needs you just as much as you need him right now. The feeling is mutual, and the pleasure will be too. Let him take these suits off and he'll give you what you crave. His cock and cum, to have his babies right? He knows, you can't your desires from him because they're his desires too. They have been ever since you started working together.
"Fill you up, I'll fill that pussy up with so much cum you'll be pregnant in to time. Such a good hole, taking me so eagerly. Are you sure this is due to the spider bite? I think... fuck... I think you're not being honest here. You'd want me regardless, I've seen how you look at me. I know this is a bit backwards but after this let me take you on a date hum? Prove to you I mean this, that you're not just a warm hole to be fucked."
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Noir doesn't want to risk your professional relationship by having sex with you in a deluded state of mind. He tries to give you space while also being close to you in case of real danger but you quickly make your way onto his lap, saying how you don't need any space between you two, in fact it'd be better if there was none at all. He curses his judgement as he pushes you to the floor, rutting his clothed hard cock against your pussy almost animalistically. He hates that he's letting his desires take over his rational part of mind but he can't lie to himself, he wants to see what you look like when you're painted white.
"What have you... I can't think about anything but your pussy. Shit, I need you, fucking need to feel you, see you taking my dick. You look beautiful when you're rolling your hips into me, your mind is mush right now isn't it? This will help, I think. If you... I promise you I'm not the kind of man to run from my actions, I'll take responsibility for this, weather you be pregnant after or not."
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nohaijiachi · 6 months
Text
Why I Think The Fandom Has Been Doing Aziraphale Dirty Ever Since Season 1 And It's Only Gotten Worse With Season 2 And It's Killing Me Inside
Before we get into the subject matter of the title let me preface a couple of things:
1- All that will follow is, big surprise, my opinion and my interpretation of this character. Do I think I am The One And Only Who Gets The Blorbo Right and that my ideas are 100% the way the author(s) intended to convey the character? No.
More likely than not the way I see Aziraphale could be intensely different from the way Authorman sees him, or Actorman sees him, and I don't think that my interpretation is necessarily any more correct than anybody's else.
That said, if I also did not think that I am, in fact, correct on a certain level, I wouldn't have bothered forming such a thought out opinion of Aziraphale in the first place, nor would be sitting here, writing this post that I can already tell is going to be entirely too long and might probably ruffle some feathers.
So I'll be writing the rest of this post with the caveat that I while I do think my interpretation correct, I'm also not trying to change anybody's mind nor to discredit anybody's else interpretation of Aziraphale. We can sit here in the sandpit and hold different opinions and still be able to build sandcastles together, it really isn't that deep at the end of the day; I can assure you, I'm not here to fight nor cause fights with this one.
2- With the above point, comes also the fact that I won't bother continuously saying "In my opinion" for the rest of this post. You already know that. So, if something will come across as a bit caustic, do know that it is very much tongue in cheek and I am poking a bit of fun at general fannish habits that I am also very much quote-unquoute 'guilty' of having partaken into, and will partake into again plenty of times in the future, I'm sure.
So, with that: Here's Why I Think The Fandom Has Been Doing Aziraphale Dirty Ever Since Season 1 And It's Only Gotten Worse With Season 2 And It's Killing Me Inside
A large part of the people comprising this fandom prefers Crowley. There, I said it.
This fandom's preference blatantly skews toward Crowley. Can we admit that openly? Let's admit that openly.
To be clear, this isn't meant to be an accusation or recrimination or any other -ation you can think of, I am merely stating matter-of-factly a phenomena I've observed in the last four years.
It is also not a wrong nor bad thing in any way, shape or form. I adore Crowley myself. I love them both so much it's unreal.
But I started with that because I think it is very much a symptom of the fact that a lot of people don't get Aziraphale.
I remember back with S1 there had been plenty of times when I found myself reading discussions and opinion exchanges about Aziraphale and Crowley, their dynamics, all the things that went unsaid behind the things that were said, and found myself genuinely surprised by seeing how some people interpreted certain moments wildly different from how I personally saw them.
I look back at that and I think "Oh, sweet summer child". Nothing could have prepared me from the onslaught of takes about Aziraphale that make me go "Good lord, what???" in the wake of S2, and the infamous Last Fifteen.
Now because I don't want to be pointing fingers at specific things and risk upsetting somebody more than I already am by being open in admitting that, guys, yes, some of the takes y'all have been sharing make me go "Yikes(tm)", I'll move on the interesting part and what I would actually love to discuss, aka cracking Aziraphale's head open and see what that actual fuck is going on in there.
Another preface: Because this duo is intrinsically linked and woven together it is downright impossible to only focus on Aziraphale without also mentioning Crowley, so... Let me circle back to our fav demon bae for a sec, here.
I think the reason why it seems that a larger part of the fandom favors Crowley is because I feel like Crowley is a much easier character to grasp. He is very open in his thoughts and feelings, at any given moment us, the audience, have a much easier time watching a scene and sort of ruminating in the back of our heads about Crowley's motivations for saying the things he says and doing the things he does.
That isn't to say Crowley is a less complex character than Aziraphale. They are very much equally complex and multifaceted individuals with their strengths and weaknesses, their issues and the way they each cope with them, how differently they approach their existence and so on and so forth.
But whereas Crowley as a character presents itself with a certain dynamism and a far more outward openness about his complexity, Aziraphale does the exact opposite; we can say Aziraphale is downright hermetic about it.
For us, the audience, he presents a challenge that requires a good deal of thought being put into him to see over the facade he presents at a more superficial level; he requires time and effort to fully dismantle him in our minds to try and see what makes him thick (other than his thighs), and thus I think it is entirely natural that more people latch on the far easier to identify-with, and relate-to, Crowley.
And that is the inevitable consequence of everything that makes Aziraphale... Well, Aziraphale.
So, where to start? Let's try and jot down what Aziraphale truly is at his core.
He is a contradiction.
This man-shaped being is a walking contradiction, constantly existing in a state of being coated in three thousand layers of misdirection and obfuscation and double thinking.
Why is that? Well. He's an angel.
Aziraphale loves being an angel. It is a tenet of his entire existence and something he cherishes. He wants, so very much, to be his ideal of what a good angel is: An entity who is kind and loving and understanding and forgiving.
Of course us, the audience, know that is utter bullshit, because we know angels can be individuals just as complex as the humans Aziraphale loves so much, with all their inherent flaws and capability for cruelty. And, on a certain level, Aziraphale knows that too.
So there we have it, one element of contradiction: Aziraphale wants to think that angels are always Good and Righteous and Never Wrong; Aziraphale knows that angels aren't, in fact, always Good and Righteous and, by god, can they make plenty of mistakes, too.
What else? How about Aziraphale sitting there, being in love with a demon, fully knowing that at the end of the day demons really ain't that different from angels, and also desperately hanging onto the concept of Good vs Bad.
And he sits there, existing with these two contrasting idea equally taking space in his mind, neither side ever capable of taking over the other.
What else do we have? Aziraphale loves God and wants so hard to believe in Her love for humanity and Her ineffable plan, and Aziraphale also time and again does things that very blatantly go against Her will, lies to Her face, and Doubts. He Doubts, a lot, and that requires the capital letter because those Doubts are what spur him in going against everything he's ever told to believe in order to do the right thing.
Aziraphale's very existence is a constant push-and-pull of things he wants to believe and things he knows are real; things he's told to do and things he wants to do. That's how we get "My side" and "there's a bit of good in you" and "you are the bad guys".
And nothing he's lived through has managed to break him out of this unhealthy way of existing quite yet; that's why he acts the way we see him act in the Edinburgh flashback in S2, or at the start of S1 when Crowley has to ease Aziraphale into the idea of trying to stop Armageddon with the usual song and dance of "temptation" and "plausible deniability" and "you'd be thwarting me", even though from the start we can tell there's a little part of Aziraphale who is clearly not at ease with the idea of the end of the world, and once he's been given 'permission' by Crowley nudging him, he is all the way in with the whole saving the world business, not take-backsies.
Both the moments I mentioned here are very important for different reasons, but of the two is very much the Edinburgh flashback that gets a lot more flack by the fandom and is blatantly misunderstood, which I think is the inevitable consequence of that minisode immediately following the glorious, beautiful, heartbreaking piece of art that is the "A companion to owls" minisode.
I've seen a lot of people lamenting that Aziraphale acts obnoxiously in the Edinburgh flashback and, yeah. He does. But I feel like the fact that we are seeing this after watching Aziraphale struggle his way through saving Job's children, even being willing to go to Hell for it, is a though act to follow and probably soured Edinburgh-Aziraphale for a lot of people, made them think that the character had regressed instead of progressing.
But, see, the way he acts is wholly congruous with who Aziraphale is and has always been and keeps being up to the very end of S2. Yes, even after what he does for Job's children.
If you get down to it, Aziraphale had been ready to give up and let the children die, in episode 2. For a brief moment, after Crowley told him he 'longed to destroy the blameless children', Aziraphale was walking away, having tried all he thought he could try to do to stop this senseless act. That was until Crowley tested him by making the crows bleat, cuing Aziraphale to the fact that his impression of Crowley wasn't wrong, and the he could count on him to do the right thing.
To be clear, I don't want to undermine Aziraphale's action by only giving the credit to Crowley but... It is, also, only thanks to Crowley cajoling him and giving him the right excuses, that Aziraphale feels safe in doing what he's always wanted to do all along.
He'd wanted to save Job's children, and thought he couldn't until Crowley threw him that hell of a lifesaver. He wanted to save the world and thought he couldn't until Crowley nudged him on the path of plausible deniability.
He wanted to save Elspeth's eternal soul, blinding himself to the hardships she'd have to endure in her not-eternal life, and was smacked right in the face by the reality of human suffering multiple times.
The way Aziraphale acts in that flashback can't be a regression, because there never was a progression in the first place: He'd always walked the line between Heaven's and God's will and his own, personal morality and sense of justice.
By all means, if we look at Uz-Aziraphale and modern-day-Aziraphale at the start of S1, his reticence about the whole saving the world business should, by all means, appear as a regression as well. You mean to tell me that he'd been ready to become a demon for the sake of three mortal children, and then suddenly a handful of thousands years later when faced with the prospect of the whole world going up in flames he'd just be all like "Heaven will triumph over Hell and it will be all rather lovely"? Like, fuck off, Aziraphale, you lying double-thinker, you (/pos)
Aziraphale constantly exist while being at war with himself. Circumstances have allowed him to rebel the will of Heaven and God more or less safely time and again, but he never quite managed to break free entirely. He'd always ended up being reeled back in, being fed the party lines, being made to feel shame for his independent thinking, until it all becomes too much and he is forced to step back from that freedom he'd been inches away from grasping.
Back and forth, back and forth, never stopping.
And all of this, all of what he is, makes it so hard for us, the audience, to truly see him. To truly grasp him. To truly watch any given scene with him and figure out what he might be thinking or feeling.
To understand Aziraphale is to understand what he is not saying when he says something, which is a good deal harder to do than it is to understand and relate to a character like Crowley, who very much revel in saying exactly whatever the heck he thinks whenever he damn well pleases.
All those layers of obfuscation and misdirection and double thinking that Aziraphale coats himself in are as much an armor that makes it harder for the audience to understand him as they are his very own downfall because, good lord, if you exist like that, if you exist forced to keep things hidden from yourself, well... It's inevitable that at some point you are going to stumble into pitfalls of your own making.
And I love him for it.
So, there? I hope I managed to explain something with this post, and that it wasn't just the rambling of someone who spends way too much time thinking about her blorbos. To be clear, I don't think people who haven't spent as much time as me trying to dissect and better understand Aziraphale's character are like, dumber than me or anything. It's just that this pair of angelic-demonic blorbos take too much real estate in my mind, lol.
Feel free to let me know your opinion and if you think I am wildly off mark and my Take Is Bad. I might answer, I might not, it all depends on time and my mood ◝(ᵔᵕᵔ)◜
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islandofsages · 3 months
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Hello, can i ask for Octavinelle dorm with Octavinelle! M! reader?
He's a really chill and silly guy but somehow crazy good with money and business. Like, if you give him 10 bucks and tell him to do whatever he wants with it and come back with 100 bucks, he'll somehow come back with 10000 bucks and become the CEO of some company. And, yeah, he's got these goofy ideas that somehow just work.
characters: the octavinelle boys x male octavinelle reader
tags: relationship not specified, crack (?), imagines format
warnings: a bit of swearing (just one word really)
author's notes: i love yall yall's readers are so goofy they're so fun to write
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Azul Ashengrotto
He appreciates how you’re one of the more level-headed guys around, though if only you could lay off the joking and teasing
But as long as you don’t cause him trouble he doesn’t mind you as much - and you end up proving to him that you are the very opposite
One day, he asks you to run him a errand (with fair compensation, of course; he is the soul of benevolence after all)
It’s quite simple - fetch him a sum of money Sam owes the Mostro Lounge (you don’t question how and why a fully-grown adult owes a seventeen year old money)
And so you go over to Sam’s. You won’t lie, you’re a little curious of what this debt entails. You’ll see if you can squeeze some details out of Sam
You meet up with Sam, all smiles as per usual. Though when you mention that you’re there because of the debt, he takes you into the shop’s backroom instead
He gives you an envelope, stuffed with the goods no doubt. He seems insistent on not letting on anything - but then you hit him with a classic move
“Now, now, we’re not in a rush, are we? I don’t even work for the Mostro Lounge. Least you can do is entertain a guy. I’ll keep my lips sealed.”
Sweet-talk and half-truths are a way to a salesman's heart after all. It’s true that you don’t work for Azul but that’s only because you have other businesses going on right now
Sam gives in with a sigh. It seems as if he’s been carrying such a secret for a while and needs an outlet. And you are definitely here for it
You come back to Octavinelle, skipping merrily (if not physically, at least you were on cloud nine mentally) and carrying more than just an envelope. Azul, on the other hand, is borderline seething for whatever reason. Little does he know
The moment you reach his office, you toss him the envelope and is about to leave - until he sees not one but the two enormous bags you carried in your hands that are definitely filled with money
Distraught, he questions you on how the hell you manage to score that much money. You shrug while walking towards the exit. It's just a matter of persuasion and creative thinking.
Business is so easy, you thought.
Jade Leech
Similar to Azul, it’s nice to have someone who has their shit together - plus, he finds it amusing when you mess with Azul. It reminds him of Floyd’s antics
Once in a while, you’re a pleasant guy to just sit down and have small talk with, though at times he wishes you would let on about yourself more
For his information, you only let slip when you want to; and he finds that out himself one fateful day
He jokes that if there’s anyone who could overpower Azul and steal his authority over the Mostro Lounge, it’d be you. You chuckle knowingly at this
Feeling a little playful, you propose to him a bet - if you manage to do so by next week, he owes you ten thaumarks. But if you don’t, you owe him ten thaumarks
He lets out a carefree laugh, amused. He reserves his assumptions and agrees to play along with you for the next few days
He doesn’t see you in a while. Not intentionally - he genuinely can’t find you anywhere, though he only attributes it to the fact that there’s only so much time he can use to look for you
After a whole week has passed, he seats himself where the bet initially took place and waits patiently for you to show up. True to your promise, you come waltzing up to him casually, your hands in your pockets and a friendly smile on your face
You slide next to him as he asks you how’ve you been and the two of you update each other on your wellbeing. Then he starts chuckling, a hand over his mouth in true Jade fashion. You smirk in response, knowing too well what that chuckle is for
And in true you fashion, you pull out ten thaumarks and extend them to him
…wait a minute. That’s ten thousand thaumarks.
You savor the sight of a Jade with his mouth agape. You snicker at his bewilderment as he tries to process what’s happening in front of him
“It’s true that I didn’t usurp Azul’s power or anything - but that’s only because I’m not interested in the Mostro Lounge. I’d rather have it as a rival than my property.”
After he gets over his initial shock, he offers you a sinister, toothy grin. You respond with a finger to your lips. He nods understandingly and takes the money from you with no protest.
Floyd Leech
You’re more low-key compared to him but he still appreciates having a fellow pain-in-Azul’s-ass
Of course, it depends on his mood still, but his tolerance of you is pretty consistent despite everything. You take it as a compliment
On one of his good-mood days, he’s chatting it up with you and laying out potential ways to mess with Azul more. You bring your own idea to the table
“How about this? I get a common word used by literally everyone trademarked and anyone who dares utter it has to pay me. And that includes Azul himself.”
He guffaws at your ridiculous idea and voices his opinion. You laugh yourself and don’t deny it. It is pretty far-fetched… but you have your ways
Plus, he has to admit that would piss off Azul super bad it’d be worth the trouble
The two of you hang out from time to time as usual when behind it all, you’re setting up Azul’s eventual downfall
Or not. You don’t actually care about taking Azul down but it would be pretty funny. Also you’ll get to impress Floyd in some shape or form which you care more about frankly
Once the deed is done, it’s announced everywhere you could think of - you did it under a fake name of course. But the money you’ll be getting can’t be any more real
What did you trademark? The word “so”.
When you relay this story to Floyd, he lets out a howl of a laugh you could’ve mistaken him for a wolf - he has no idea what strings you had to pull to actually manage that but color him entertained
…until he realizes that he’d also have to pay you every time he uses that word. Then his mood goes down instantly
You shrug that realization off by giving him a pass since he let you entertain the idea in the first place.
Floyd happy again :)
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joshym · 1 month
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Muse
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Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!Reader
Summary: Your struggling artist is desperate for some inspiration.
Word Count: 3.4k+
Warnings: smut (18+ ONLY), unprotected p in v, oral (f! receiving), a smidge of sir kink, some spanking, a lot of fluff because i can't help myself, Jake draws a naked portrait of you (let me know if i've missed anything)
a/n: special thanks to this lovely anon for this brilliant idea. this was way too much fun to write.
this was inspired heavily by that scene from the Titanic. (you know the one.)
as always, thank you to my favorite editor/motivator, @jakeyt.
i hope you enjoy. ♡
“I want you to draw me wearing this.” You reach into the lapel of the robe, retrieving his coin that now hangs from your neck. “Only this.”
.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.
His frustration is palpable, evident in the nearly incessant huffing emanating from behind the closed door of his studio.
It's moments like these that leave you feeling utterly helpless. There’s nothing you can do, no inspiration you can provide that will pull him from his artist’s block.  
He's been holed up in there for hours, since the early dawn, lost in the depths of his imagination, sketching away. You know better than to intrude; he's never been keen on sharing his work until it's finished.
In fact, he's never once allowed you a glimpse into his creative process. "It's the strange doodlings of a mind overrun with ideas. It's not to be seen until it's in its final form," he's reminded you countless times when your curiosity gets the better of you.
Still yet, you're consumed by the desire to witness his beautiful mind in action, crafting masterpieces in real-time, each stroke flowing from his soul through his tireless hand on his Somerset velvet sheets.
But, like any artist, he’s his own worst critic. He’s never truly satisfied with anything he creates, though you are left utterly speechless after each piece he finishes. His mind is a beautifully profound chasm of endless wonder, manifested through his artistry.
You hate when he has these moments of doubt, these instances when he questions whether he’s truly capable of such greatness. 
And you especially despise days like today, when he spends the better part of it feeling as though he has a mental brick wall in the way of his ingenuity, hindering his hand from bringing to life what his mind so desperately longs to conceive. 
Commissioned pieces, like his project today, always hold the most weight for him— from the need to earn a living, to his persistent worry that his art might not meet the expectations of the client. 
It’s not that he doesn’t love doing them, or that he’ll ever stop taking them; quite the contrary, they’re his favorite pieces to work on. They provide him with an added pressure that elicits some of his best work. 
But, reaching that point can be rather strenuous for him. It can at times take days, weeks before he discovers the creative impulsion he needs. 
And right now, he’s in that very rut, awaiting the surge of inspiration that will reignite his dulled spirit.
There truly is nothing you can do when he’s lost like this, and any effort you’ve attempted in the past has always proved useless. 
The one thing you can do, however, is prepare him some dinner.
He’s hardly left his studio today, and you know he’s not eaten much, if anything at all. Perhaps a morsel of sustenance will ignite the dormant embers of his mind. 
.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.
After a quiet tap to the door, he invites you in with a serene voice. 
He looks tired, but lovely as ever. The golden hour has officially set in the sky, and the opened curtains on the windows have allowed for a warm hue to encompass his studio, enveloping him in its delicate lume.
“That smells absolutely divine,” he remarks as you enter his studio, his plate and yours delicately balanced in your hands. 
“I figured a little homemade pasta would do you some good,” you tell him while you pad across the floor to his work station.
With a sly disposition and a playful glint in your eye, you aim to steal a glance of his day-long project, but alas, you’ve been caught. Your sweet Jake misses nothing.
"Not yet, my love," he murmurs, flipping the page over as he takes your hand, planting a tender kiss over your knuckles. "You know the rules."
“I know, I know.” Your response holds a bit of remorse. You know better, but can’t begin to help the relentless desire to see his mind at work. 
Setting his dinner on the desk he’s working from, you move yourself across the small office to the green chaise lounge that sits across from him, silently seeking his permission with your gentle glances. The smile in his eyes tells you that he’s more than happy to be graced with your company for the time being. 
After taking a bite of the spinach tortellini you prepared, he unbuttons his white striped shirt, removing it from his shoulders and stretching his arms high above his head as though he’s ridding himself of the weight of his frustrations.
You can’t help your glare, watching him do something so normal yet so intriguing all at once. 
His skin is velvety smooth, his chest rising and falling with every breath he takes, his chestnut wavy locks sitting atop his broad shoulders. You’re in awe each time you look at him; the sheer magnitude of his beauty never fails to steal your breath away.
And his necklace, his most cherished piece of jewelry that he wears each and every day. The precious coin, a relic salvaged from a centuries-old shipwreck that hangs against his chest.
The way it sits on his bare skin is nothing short of elating, sexy. It’s a wonderful addition to his already captivating aura. 
He’s flawless. Everything about him.
Once he catches your gaze, he responds with a sly wink, eliciting a blush that paints your cheeks a bright shade of pink.
Then, a thought begins to swirl around your mind for a brief moment. One that you’re shocked you’ve not conjured until now. 
The vision of the pendant against his bare skin sets your own imagination alight. 
“I’ve got an idea,” you propose, your voice soft and sultry, trying to pique his interest even just a little, something that may help the rusted wheels of his mind turn at full capacity once again.
While his focus remains on his work, his right eyebrow arches ever so slightly, and you catch the hint of a grin daring to curl in the corners of his mouth.
“And what might that be, my dear?” he asks with an unknowing, devilish smirk. 
As you get up, he hastily flips the page back over to hide his work from you once again.
“Don’t worry,” you say as you move behind him, placing your hands on his bare shoulders. “I won’t peek.”
You glide your fingers along his skin, feeling the subtle rise of each goosebump in the wake of your gentle touch.
He hums inquisitively as you delicately take hold of the clasp of his necklace in between your index and thumb, undoing it in one fluid motion before slowly slipping it from around his neck. 
“Be right back,” you say as you head towards the door. “Don’t move.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he responds, a myriad of questions splayed across his features.
With light steps, you make your way down the wooden floors of the hall towards your shared bedroom. Hanging on the back of the door is your sapphire hued satin robe, adorned with a delicate lace detailing along the hem—the one Jake has always fawned over. 
The satin drapes coolly against your skin as you slip it on, wearing nothing underneath, save for the weight of Jake’s necklace resting against your chest that you hide beneath the fabric. 
You run your fingers through your hair, adding a subtle tousled look, before applying a light blush to your lips and cheeks to impart a bit of natural color to your complexion.
And with that, you're poised and ready.
.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.
As you turn the corner to face his studio, you see a very weary version of your Jake. His head sits in the palms of his hands, his leg bounces up and down at a rapid rate—a clear sign of the mental battle he’s waging. 
This is as good a time as any for your little idea, and you’re hoping that it’ll be the very thing he needs to find some much needed initiative to keep going. 
“Hi, baby,” you venture, leaning your body alluringly against the frame of the door. 
As he looks up, a familiar twinkle dances in his eyes—a sight you've longed for all day long. It's a glimmer that tells you he's rather fond of the vision before him.
“And what exactly is your idea?” he inquires softly, slowly standing from his chair. But you stop him, motioning for him to stay just where he is as you saunter towards the chaise you were seated on just moments ago. 
“My idea,” you begin, making a very slow, deliberate attempt to untie the sash holding your robe together at the waist. “...is for you to draw me.” 
As if your thought has affected him physically, his posture immediately straightens, and his once tired eyes hold a renewed sense of life as they watch you intently. 
“I want you to draw me wearing this.” You reach into the lapel of the robe, retrieving his coin that now hangs from your neck. “Only this.” 
Your robe suddenly falls to the floor, revealing your fully nude figure that was hidden beneath. 
“Oh…” he utters, his tongue wetting his lower lip before tucking it between his teeth. “You can’t do this to me, baby. I can’t look at you like this an–”
“Consider it a commission,” you interrupt, tracing your fingers lightly up and down the skin of your torso. “And when you’re finished, if it’s to my liking, you’ll receive a full payment.”
With a raised eyebrow, his gaze sweeps up and down your form, while his index finger lightly grazes his chin.
“You’re quickly becoming my favorite client,” he quips, wiping a stray bead of sweat away from his forehead, tousling the front of his hair in the process. “Consider it done, ma’am,” he continues with a confirming nod of his head. 
You lay yourself down on the forest green velvet cushions, positioning yourself sensually across the chaise. Your body is turned slightly to the side, your leg gracefully crossed over the other, an elegant display of your curved silhouette. 
The warm glow that is so beautifully cast upon Jake, is now cast upon you, the aura laying over your nude body like a golden blanket of light. 
“Is this okay?” you ask him, draping your arm over the back of the chaise, making sure the coin sits meticulously atop your chest before your other arm falls to rest against your body. 
He simply grins while nodding his head, his eyes drinking you in, a mix of surprise and desire evident within his expression.
“Yeah, that um…that’ll do just fine,” he tells you, the slight crack in his voice eliciting a smile from you, a break in his professional facade. 
With a deep breath, he takes his prized Faber Castell 9000, carefully sharpening the tip just a bit before putting it against a blank sheet. 
And then, as the true artist you know him to be, he begins without a hint of hesitancy. The gentle sound of the lead scratching away at the paper fills the quiet room— a sound you’ve come to cherish, a sound that signifies his craft is steadily blossoming to life.
He seems charmingly nervous, his hand gently brushing against his nose every so often between a series of strokes from his pencil, clearing his throat more than usual. His eyes flint to you, then back to the paper, then back to you, a succession of his adoration and determination, ensuring that the likeness captured in his art closely mirrors your essence. 
You try to keep your face composed, a seductive allure about your features. But as you watch him, immersed in his passion, the way he’s studying you so intently, it becomes nearly impossible to suppress the beginnings of a smile upon your lips. 
But despite your efforts, he takes note of the curve adorning your flushed lips, mirroring it with his own. “Relax your face for me, beautiful.” The soft rasp in his tone is enough to send a blush throughout your whole body. 
Breathing in your nose and exhaling through parted lips, you’re able to reclaim your composure enough to steady your expression. 
Every moment you share with him is a brushstroke of beauty, but something about this one stands out. The intimacy of it all, how he must diligently study every inch of your form to convey your image through his art, the intensity behind his focused gaze…your heart is racing in your chest, despite your relaxed demeanor. 
.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.
With the sun almost hidden behind the early moon, he completes the final stroke.
He lays his pencil down, gently blowing on the paper to remove any stray lead before he picks it up, examining it closely while he walks it over to you. 
As he holds it out before you, allowing you to at last see his craft come to life, you’re left entirely awestruck. 
“Oh, Jake.” The sight before you leaves you nearly breathless. It exceeds every expectation, beyond the boundaries of your imagination. It’s a portrayal of you, but not just that— it’s how he sees you.
It’s the first time you’re witnessing yourself through his eyes, and in that, you feel a profound sense of beauty within yourself that you’ve never known. 
“Do you like it?” He asks, a slight tremor present in his voice. 
“It’s…incredible, Jake.” 
Propping yourself up a bit, you carefully take the drawing from his hands, poring over his vast attention to the detail in your face, your body. 
Specifically your breasts, how perfectly he depicted their round curve above your rib cage, encapsulating the fullness and allure of them. 
You’re entranced by the way he drew the contour of your hips, how he captured the dip in them that you’ve always looked at with disdain, yet in his portrayal, you’re able to see the beauty in what you’ve considered a flaw.
He encapsulated everything, even the faint freckle beneath the curve of your left breast, and the mole under your belly button. He managed to immortalize all the intricate nuances that you typically overlook.
“Is this what I really look like?”
“Yes, but,” he takes the drawing from you, placing it on the mahogany table beside the chaise lounge. He helps you lay back down, gently caressing your face that he’s just conveyed through his artistry as he props himself above you. “The essence of your beauty defies any depiction.”
Then, his lips envelope yours in a kiss so fervent, so ardent, as though he’s waited hours to finally have you within his grasp. 
His hand moves with a swift grace to your breast, fingers toying with your perked bud. This erotic moment with him has you already so flustered, so sensitive to every touch of his hands. 
He breaks his lips from yours, only to land them down the column of your heaving chest.
“You’ve no idea how hard it was for me to look at you like this, to look at these,” he mumbles against the tingling skin, hands kneading the flesh of your breasts. “And fight the urge to come place my lips on every inch of this beautiful fucking body.”
And just as he said, he bestows tender yet hungry kisses down the length of your torso, maneuvering his body down the chaise lounge until he kneels before you. He nestles his face perfectly between your thighs, his warm breath tantalizing your wet center from his dangerously close proximity. 
“I certainly hope you don’t let all of your clients pay you like this,” you mutter, breathless and yearning for his mouth. 
“Only the ones that tickle my fancy,” he says, his words adorned with a playful wink before he delves into you. 
He laps away at your pulsing cunt, like he’s been starved for your taste this entire evening. The lewd, lascivious sounds he’s emitting from between your legs only serve to heighten your need for him, causing your back to instinctively arch away from the plush cushions. 
And when his lips envelop your throbbing clit, his tongue swirling around it inside his warm mouth, your body trembles and shudders. A rush of warmth encompasses you, starting from the depths of your core, the pit of your stomach, spreading to every inch of your being. 
You surrender to the intoxicating bliss, your breath catching in your throat while your heart pounds in a crescendoing rhythm.  
He guides you through it, gently holding your hips in place while the movement of his tongue slows in perfect time as with the ebb of your climax.
“Oh, that was so beautiful, my love.” He lovingly kisses the inside of your thigh before he stands, removing the belt from his patchwork jeans. “Turn over for me, baby.”
“Yes, sir,” you quietly utter as you obey his demand, knowing good and damn well what that specific name does to him. 
Just as he commanded, you turn your body over to your stomach, placing your elbows against the arm of the chaise, your back arched as much as you can so that your ass is sticking up just right for him.
“Love when my sweet girl calls me that,” he purrs before his belt hits the floor, his jeans and underwear quickly in tow and freeing his impossibly hard cock. 
“So, what’s the verdict, my love?” You feel the cushion sink in behind you as he settles himself between your legs, his right hand caressing your hip while the other teases your soaked cunt with the tip of his cock, leaking with precum. “Was my work to your liking?”
You giggle breathlessly, poking your ass out even further as an offering to him for his hard work. “Yes, I believe you’ve earned your reward.” 
He steadily begins nudging his cock into you, going slow at first, allowing you to fully adjust to him. 
Inch by thick inch, he fills you completely to the hilt, your breath catching in heavy gasps that are robbed from your lungs as he buries himself deeply within you. 
Your nails claw at the velvet armrest as his thrusts quicken in their pace, your upper body nearly going limp as you’re no longer able to easily hold yourself up.  
His hands hold a firm grip at your lower waist, pulling you into his cock rhythmically, yet becoming more and more disordered as he’s beginning to lose himself to the pleasure. 
You cry out a slew of obscenities mixed with his name, begging him to fuck you harder, faster.
Without question he complies, landing an open palm against your ass cheek. “So good for me baby,” he hums, his thighs slapping against the backs of yours as he drives into you just the way you need. “So fucking good for me.” 
With one more vigorous thrust of his hips, you feel that familiar rush throughout your whole body as your cunt throbs and pulses incessantly around his cock.
“Fuck, I feel you, baby. Pretty little cunt squeezing me so tight.” You feel the twitching of his cock inside of you, an indication that he's on the very brink of his own release. 
“Cum inside me, sir. Please…need you to fill me.” Your voice is faltered, your body still reeling from your second climax. 
“Jesus,” he groans, moaning exasperatedly as your words have him spilling within you, filling you with his warmth just as you requested. 
He stays buried inside of you as he catches his breath, feeling his release slowly trickling down your thighs as you struggle to fill your own lungs. 
You have to fight the urge to protest when he begins pulling himself away from you, not yet ready for the empty feeling he leaves you with. 
You practically collapse against the cushion, your body exhausted in the most enthralling way, the kind of exhaustion that only immense amounts of pleasure can bring forth. 
“My sweet, beautiful girl,” he whispers, kneeling himself before you as he softly caresses your flushed cheek. 
You kiss the pad of his thumb as it crosses over your mouth, summoning the strength to lift yourself up enough to steal one from his lips. “I hope it worked,” you say, gently cupping his face in your hand. 
“You hope what worked, my love?” He asks, leaning into your soft touch. 
“I was hoping this would help inspire you.” You reach for the drawing, savoring its beauty once more. “I was hoping I could help inspire you, pull you out of your moment of doubt.” 
“My love,” he murmurs, setting the portrait back down before he gently brushes his lips against yours. “You inspire me endlessly, every single day.” 
His tender smile warms your very soul as he leans in for a deeper kiss, imbued with all the love you could ever want for.
“You’re my perfect muse,” he utters against your lips, “I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you.” 
.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.
a/n: suffice to say, this inspired the hell out of me when i've lacked inspiration/motivation lately. thank you, anon.
if you have any juicy ideas, feel free to send them my way. ♡
love you guys.
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