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#god I wish I could make better memes
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I just want to keep my job even though I don't know how to make memes. Buy our coffee. We've got holiday gifts for the coffee lover in your life.
Awesome Coffee is different because 1. we source our beans directly from small farmers collectives, 2. it's better and fresher than grocery store coffee, and 3. ALL of our profit goes to fight maternal and child mortality in impoverished communities, whereas almost all other coffee makes rich people richer, which is the dumbest thing that can be done with coffee (or other forms of wealth).
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yellowbentley · 8 months
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last year i made some Poor Decisions™️ with a man and im starting to think that i made them with the wrong person
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dakotalun · 9 months
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"Oops" | Eddie Munson
pairing: Eddie Munson X Fem Reader
summary: Part 1--Eddie "accidentally" sends a tasteful pic to his best friend.
warnings: mutual pining, pet names (sweetheart), strong language, description of naked Eddie
word count: 3.4k
Part 2
a/n: went a little crazy at 3am the other night and wrote this. Part two will be up later this week!! Luv y'all <3
*******NOT MY GIF, CREDIT TO OWNERS*******
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Eddie is your best friend of many years, the two of you being inseparable from the moment you met. So when you got a text from him tonight you don’t think much of it, figuring it was just a dumb meme he saw or a random thing from today.
What you didn’t expect to see was a picture of Eddie standing in his bathroom, towel slung over his shoulders with a prominent boner happening.
His hair is wet as if he just got out of the shower and hadn’t bothered to dry it yet. The long dark brown locks stick to his neck and chest in a way that can only be described as godly. The tattoos on his skin are glistening but covered by the towel around his neck and as you move your eyes downward the path of hair that leads to his dick is delicious.
And talking about his dick it is, mag-fucking-nificent! The way that it hangs there, the tip swollen and red, leaking the smallest bit of precum. It has your mouth watering.
You nearly choked on your own spit when you saw it. Never in a million years did you think that Eddie would be sending you of all people nudes. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t wonder what he was packing but you never really indulged in those thoughts, until now. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from the screen, memorizing every little detail in the photo.
Eddie sends another text but you’re too distracted to see what it is. Then a stream of texts start flooding in from him.
‘SHIT!’
‘I DID NOT NMEAN TO SNED YIU THAT!’
‘IGNORE THE PICTUREA’
‘HOW THE HELL DO I DELETE THE PIC?!?!?!’
‘GOD I AM SOSOSOSOSOSOSSOO SOORRY!!’
You giggle at his frantic typing, noting all the typos. Curiosity gets the better of you and you scroll up a little to see what he had said after he sent the picture. You’re eyes go wide at the words displayed on your screen.
‘Couldn’t stop thinkin’ about you. Jerked off twice while in the shower and I’m still hard. Wish you were here with me right now ;)’
You had no clue who this was really meant for but if it was meant for you you would 100 percent be on your way to him right now. The bottom half of the picture stares back at you as your eyes acan over the text again and again. You can’t deny the small hint of wetness that you feel on your underwear while looking at the two.
Twice? He came twice and is still hard. Whoever he thought about must be really hot if he can go 3 rounds without breaking a sweat. Could he go more?
Your thoughts were interrupted by your phone receiving a call, from none other than Eddie himself. You sit up in bed and pull your knees towards you as you answer his call.
“Sweetheart I am so so so sorry I sent you that. It was clearly meant for someone else. If I had known it was your contact that I was on I would have never sent that at all. I want you to know that I don’t go around sending nudes to everyone or anything, I’m not a slut I was just-”
“Eddie it’s fine. No need to apologize. I figured it wasn’t meant for me anyways.” It pains you a little at the thought that someone else was supposed to receive that message from your best friend.
“I’m still sorry. Is there any way I can make it up to you?” His voice sounds smooth like spreading butter onto fresh pancakes.
“Hmm,” You fake thinking about what you want even though you know exactly what it is you want, “You’ve gotta tell me who that text was really meant for.” Silence. For a whole minute there is just silence on Eddie’s end, you’d think he was dead if it weren’t for the fast pace of his breathing.
“Sweetheart,” The nickname is not helping the situation you have going on right now, “You don’t mean that. Can’t I just take you to breakfast or buy you a new outfit?”
“Nope.” You respond popping the ‘p’ as you say it. “Either tell me who it was meant for or I send it to the groupchat.” You were bluffing. You couldn’t let the others see him like that, that was for your eyes only. Not that anyone needed to know that.
“You wouldn’t dare,” His voice turned deep and threatening.
“Try. Me.” You challenge back.
Eddie groans, “Fine. You win,” A smile spreads across your face, “It was meant for Callie. This girl in my chem class, we’ve been talking for a little bit.”
You’re a mix of emotions right now; happy that Eddie found someone he’s interested in and took his shot, confused because he never told you about it, sad because you thought he trusted you with things like that, and slightly jealous because you want to be the one Eddie sent nudes to, purposefully.
“Sweetheart? You still there?” You completely forget that you’re still on the phone with Eddie until he says something.
“Uh yeah yeah I’m here. I’m um happy for you Ed. Glad you found someone. Look I gotta go to sleep, big test tomorrow, talk later. Bye.” You hang up before he can say anything else. 
Why did you feel this way about all this? You shouldn’t be thinking of Eddie in this way, he was your best friend. Best friends don’t think about going down on each other, or the way it would feel to have his cock inside you, or the moans he would release when he finally cums in you.
You shake it off and lay back down, setting your phone on your nightstand to charge. You try for half an hour to fall asleep but your mind can’t stop thinking about that damn picture. So you unlock your phone and go back to your messages with Eddie, looking to see if he deleted the picture or not. And to your luck it was the latter, the picture and text below still there for your viewing pleasure.
You’re still horny from the initial thought of him so it doesn’t take long for your hand to wander under your shorts and underwear to your clit. The thought that your fingers were his and the way he would whisper in your ear egging you on to finish.
The images of him jerking himself off in the shower flood you, his hand on the cold tiles, water hitting his back as he fists his cock, rubbing it slowly at first but becoming impatient and going faster until he cums all over the wall and his hand.
The image of his face when he does and the moans that would leave his mouth is what throws you over the edge yourself. Wishing it were him between your legs pulling it from you not your own fingers. Finally your body is tired enough to let you go to sleep, dreaming of Eddie once more.
---
You’re sitting with Eddie and the rest of Hellfire at lunch a week later. Neither of you have talked about what happened that night, both too embarrassed to say anything.
Things were normal though, Eddie would pick you up and drop you off to and from school. You’d talk on the phone every night about whatever happened that day that the other wasn’t there for. You liked the thought that the text didn’t hinder your friendship but you can’t help but be a little jealous about Eddie fucking someone else. It’s not like you were expecting him to confess his hidden undying love for you the next day but the realization that Eddie really did send you that accidentally; hurt.
The freshman are talking about some video game coming out when Eddie lean over to you.
“Whatcha’ thinking about?” There’s a smile on his face, one that you always loved seeing.
“Nothing,” You go back to eating your fruit.
“Alrighty then. Hey I was wondering what time you wanted to come over tonight?”
Your eyes grow wide, mind going back to the text, “Why?”
“Um it’s Wednesday. Horror movie marathon night, remember?” His head cocks to the side a little, his hair falling into his face. It reminds you of a dog questioning what it’s owner has in their hand.
“Oh right yeah. Um I don’t know if I can make it tonight.” That was a lie, you had nothing going on. But being in the trailer alone with Eddie after knowing what he looks like naked is not what you need right now.
“Awe come on! I rented Scream, Saw, and Halloween for tonight. You can’t make me watch them all alone,” He lowers his voice and leans closer, “What if I need protection from the bad guys?” His big doe eyes large and pleading with you.
You roll your eyes and push his face away from you, “Ugh fine. I’ll be there, how’s 8?”
“Perfect! I’ll order the pizzas, do you think you could make those amazing cookies for us?”
“You mean for you?”
“No. I mean for us, I would never eat all the cookies myself.”
“You did like 3 weeks ago! There were 30 cookies there and I had none of them.” You stare at him as he thinks back to then.
“Nope don’t remember which means it didn’t happen. So will you?” There are those puppy dog eyes again.
“Whatever but I swear if you eat all of them again I’ll castrate you.”
Eddie’s hands fly to his groin, protecting it from your threat. “Ouch, sweetheart. Didn’t know you hated my dick that much.”
I don’t. Just hate that it’s not mine. You thought, but you just rolled your eyes and continued on eating lunch until the bell rang.
---
Eddie rushed around his room looking for his favorite shirt when you showed up for movie night. You let yourself in, per usual and set the cookies down on the coffee table before heading to Eddie’s room. He was squating in front of his closet when you come in, you don’t announce yourself just stand there staring at his back.
He got a few new tattoos since last summer, two of which on his back. A skull and crossbones along with a knife wrapped in barbed wire. You haven’t seen them in person yet, it still being too cold to sit out in the sun. But looking at them now was a pleasure, the detail popping out as his muscles flex.
Eddie huffs and stands, defeated about not finding the shirt he wanted. He turns around and finds you standing in his doorway.
“Jesus! Why didn’t you say you were here?” His hand is over his heart as he catches his breath from the unintentional jump scare.
“I texted you like 20 minutes ago that I was on my way. Figured you knew I’d be here soon,” You say as you enter his room fully to sit on his bed.
“I did not see the text, I was in the shower,” The mention of this brought back memories of the photo, and what you did whilst looking at it, “Anyways pizza should be here soon and I’ve got beers and soda in the fridge.”
Eddie walks around you to his dresser, grabbing a random shirt and throwing it on. You’re sad at the loss of his bare skin but quickly shake the thought away. You get up from his bed and head to his living room, Eddie following in toe.
“So what are we watching first? I’ve seen Scream a few times but the other two I haven’t seen,” Eddie remarks as he grabs two beers from the fridge, opening them before handing you one.
You mumble a thanks before taking a sip, the bitter liquid coating your tastebuds. “I’ve seen Scream and Saw but not Halloween. Heard good things about it though, at least that’s what Robin said, Steve had other opinions.”
“Lemme guess pretty boy hated it and wished he never saw it?” Eddie laughs as he sets up Halloween on the tv.
“Yeah pretty much,” You laugh along. The thought of your friend sitting there watching the movie curled up in a blanket next to Robin bringing a smile to your face.
Eddie finishes setting up the movie and walks back the kitchen. He grabs a bag of chips and some dip before returning to your side on the couch. He opens the chips and pops one in his mouth, crunching it loudly.
You smile at the normalcy of everything right now, it’s as if nothing ever happened between the two of you. Which if we’re being honest nothing really did happen, Eddie just sent you a nude on accident. It’s not like you kissed or anything. Not that you’d hate it if you did.
You snack on the chips and dip with him while waiting for the pizza to show up, never starting the movie without it. The two of you talk about nothing in particular while you sit there. Eddie tells you about the upcoming DnD campaign he’s been working on.
His eyes lighting up and hands flying around erratically as he explains what he planned, the animation in his character brings an even bigger smile to your face.
Just as Eddie concludes his explanation, inviting you to come sit in and watch it at the end, the doorbell rings notifying the both of you that the pizza was here and it was now time for movie night to begin.
Eddie pays the guy and happily walks over to the couch and sets the food on the table in front of the two of you, he can’t even wait til the movie starts playing to begin eating. You laugh at him as he opens and closes his mouth quickly trying to cool the hot pizza in his mouth, you just hit play and start watching the movie.
The pizza is gone, same with half the bag of chips and the cookies. Eddie actually let you eat  a few of them before he scarfed down the others. You’re nearing the end of Scream, the third and final movie of the night when you look at your phone for the time. 12:25 stares back at you, you groan knowing that your parents are going to kill you for coming home so late on a school night.
Eddie hears you and turns to see why you made that noise. You just wave him off and go back to watching the movie, watching as Skeet Ulrich gets shot for the final time in the head. A few minutes later the credits roll and Eddie turns off the tv, letting the trailer fade into silence.
“Wanna tell me what that groaning was about?” Eddie asks turning to face you completely.
“Nothing, just didn’t realize that it had gotten so late. Parents are gonna kill me if I go home at this hour.”
“So just stay here,” He says with no hesitation, “You still have a few clothes here after last movie night. They’re just siting in my drawer.”
You think about it for a minute. You and Eddie have had sleepovers in the past, nothing special about them, just two people sharing a bed, occasionally cuddling because of the small size of it. But now the thought of it made you nervous, having him so close to you, so near yet not being able to touch him. It killed you, but it’s better than going back home right now and having your mom and dad rip you a new one.
“Alright, I’m gonna need to shower though. Coach had us run the mile today at practice and I still feel disgusting.”
“Yeah no problem, you go ahead and shower, I’ll clean up here.” He stands and starts clearing the trash from the table. You get up too and head into his bathroom, but no matter how hot the water is or how long you stand under it you can't get the thought of the picture and the words under it out of your mind.
He was right here, jerking off to the thought of someone. You scold yourself for thinking about him like that, again. But you couldn’t help it.
Recently you’ve thought about him more and more; his smile, the dimples that show when he’s really happy, how animatedly he talks, the way his hair is always unkempt but still looks so damn soft. You thought about him in ways you never did before seeing that picture; his arms, his muscles, his hands, his rings. Everything about him turned you on and you needed it to go away.
Eddie finished up cleaning and sat down on his bed, beer in hand while he took out his metal lunchbox for a joint. You walk into his room, towel wrapped around yourself, hair dripping wet from the shower. He stops his actions to just stare at you, the same way you did earlier that night.
“Uh could I borrow some clothes? I don’t have anything to sleep in,” You say wrapping your arms under your boobs, pushing them up ever so slightly.
Eddie clears his throat, “Yeah, sure.” He gets up and walks over to his dresser, rummaging through it to look for something you can wear tonight. He pulls out a pair on your underwear that you “left” there a while back and one of his Hellfire shirts. You denied his offer of some pants, saying they would be way to big on you and you’d rather just sleep in the shirt.
Eddie’s mind went straight to the gutter at that thought, you sleeping next to him, in just his Hellfire shirt and a pair of underwear he stole from you. His dick was growing hard just thinking about it. He quickly got back to looking for his joint and lighting it upon it’s appearance. He took a few hits while you changed in the bathroom, his mind slowly fogging over.
You return, hair still slightly wet with the towel in your hand. You toss it into his hamper before laying on his bed, grabbing his beer and taking a sip. You lay back and close your eyes, letting the serenity of this moment wash over you. Eddie offers you a hit but you decline, being that you don’t ever mix weed and booze together.
He finishes the joint while you finish his beer. The two of you just sitting there with the light sound of whatever record Eddie has playing. Your thoughts are quiet for the most part, just soaking in the time with your best friend, until you think of something. A question you’ve been meaning to ask for a little bit.
“Eddie?”
“Hmm?” He responds head leaning back onto the wall where a headboard should be.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure, hit me.” You reach your hand out and hit him in the thigh.
“Ouch! Not literally, I meant with the question, sweetheart.”
“I know,” You giggle.
“Brat,” He mumbles back.
“Anyways, I was gonna ask -and you don’t have to answer this if you don’t want to it’s just something I’ve been thinking about- but did you really not know it was me you were sending that picture to?” The words lay heavy on your tongue as you say them aloud. You’ve been thinking about this for a while, it’s hard not to.
How did he not know it was you he was texting, your name was right there at the top of the screen. And if he was sending it to someone else how could he not double-check to make sure he wasn’t sending it to someone like Wayne or Robin.
He’s quiet for a moment, thinking about the best way to tell you that, yes he did know it was you he was sending it to. And yes he knew it was stupid but he wanted to try something to see if you felt the same way about him that he does you. Eddie’s loved you for about a year and a half now, never saying anything to anyone in fear of running your friendship.
But that night he was watching a show and one of the characters did this thing where they pretended to send a text to someone “they didn’t mean to”, to see how they’d respond. He thought that maybe this was an easy way of figuring out how you felt about him. But when you didn’t respond to his photo or texts he got scared and called you. Needing to clarify what he sent, and why.
Eddie Taglist: @ali-r3n @dixontardis
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kneelingshadowsalome · 11 months
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Hi !!!! I’m sorry if this is bothering you and if so you can totally ignore this but…
I’ve been thinking about how Ghost would react to reader gradually pulling away from him because she gained some weight and is self conscious and ashamed and doesn’t want to be seen by him, so sculpted and beautiful… but of course he’s feeling low because he wants to be close to reader and so he asks and she finally explains it to him (ready to be broken up with…)…. And I’d love to read your take on it !
You can make it female or gender neauteal I don’t really care !!!! Thank you anyway ❤️❤️❤️❤️
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Wildflowers Grow in Ruins
(Ghost x F!Reader, word count: 5 k)
Summary: Reader tries to break up with Ghost because she thinks she's not good enough for him.
Tags/warnings: FLUFF, soft sensual smut 🔞, hurt/comfort, light angst, Jealous!Ghost, Soft!Ghost, self-loathing & self-body shaming. Good girl talk/praise kink. Reader is female and wears a skirt for smut plot purposes.
A/N: I hope you like this take & I hope you don't mind that I tweaked this request just a little bit!) Also: JFC I'm wordy. The "I need to explain why they're fucking!" meme comes to mind every time I write anything.
Wars are exhausting. 
You know fighting for something can empower people. Fighting against something usually just depletes your strength.
But waging a war against yourself… 
Now that is pure hell. 
It started somewhere in your youth. You thought adulthood would take it away; that reason and tolerance would take it away. You were supposed to feel more confident in yourself, more positive about life. And for a moment, you thought you might just succeed.
But standing beside a god of war is no easy feat.
He came into your life like a walking myth, swept you away, and you only laughed as you went. It was fun at first. He was supposed to be your savior, the solution to all your problems. If a man like him found you attractive, perhaps it was the world that was crooked and not you.
But then you got soft: you started to gain pounds. Meanwhile, he became even more magnificent. It reminded you that it had all been just a dream.
Perhaps it was his eyes that seemed to worship you, that seemed to look past your every flaw. Perhaps it was the hands which never seemed to get enough of your skin. Whatever it was, it was too much. And at the same time, never enough.
The day has finally come to let him go.
You think yourself heroic. It's like it should be: it's only right that you finally release him to someone better than you.
But inside, the noble feelings twist and turn and curl around your throat and stuff your stomach full of ice - the kind they fill glasses of mojito with. The drink you'll always remember him by because he teased you about it: that you wanted an ice-cold summer drink even in the middle of winter.
Now you feel cold all over, and wish he could warm you like he used to. 
You would forsake all the mojitos of the world to keep him. You would renounce the whole drink if it came to that; if you could make him yours.
But he's not yours. He never was: he was just on loan to give you a taste of what it would be like to have a man like him. That taste should be more than enough for a lifetime. You should feel grateful.
So why is it so hard to let go?
The key on the front door turns, and your heart shoots up your throat: you're supposed to settle this thing once and for all. You're supposed to let go of him today. 
And still, when he arrives, you can't find the courage to say what you need to say. The words are stuck in your throat, but tears are not. He should already be a memory, but you find yourself suffocating on memories as you cry. You've learned to do even that in silence, like the rest of your suffering.
You take a few deep breaths, wipe the tears away, shove the rest of them down your throat – you save them for later, later, when he's far away and you can finally curl up and cry your heart out without no one there to look. Fucking later.
Good. 
Good.
Great.
You put your heaviest armor on. It protects weak and soft flesh because you can't meet him all bare. Then you step forward with the knowledge that you’re a thoroughly wounded guerrilla while he is a seasoned, well-rested veteran. The fight is nowhere near even, but it's ok. You are not meant to be in the presence of immortals anyway.
The man looks at you warily as you finally enter the room. That haunted look has followed you for some time now as the distance between you has grown. 
It should be easy, what is about to come, because he hasn't touched you in weeks. You haven't wanted him to.
Or you have… But it's not easy to have his hands on you when your body is only a vessel you hate. How can you even think about pleasure when all you think about is how it must feel for him to caress something as awful as this?
The man is a vision, and he settles for a peasant. It should be against the law, but it's not… so you figured a some time ago that you should simply find the strength and grace to do ii: do what's right.
"I need to talk to you." 
Your voice comes out neutral, and it makes you more confident, if only for a second or two.
He lifts his chin: already knows what's coming, because he's not stupid. You've been shutting down for weeks, and he hasn't done much about it. But when the thunder rolls in, he doesn't flee. Probably because he fears nothing.
"Go ahead then," he says, equally as neutral, equally as icy. Got his armor on, too. 
This should be easy…
It's really not, so you decide to rip the band-aid off in one yank.
"I think we should go separate ways."
The following inhale from across the room pierces the air like a bullet. You can hear his breaths gain depth and speed all the way to where you're standing.
"Ok."
It doesn't look or sound like he's ok. If anything, he looks like he's trying to process the sudden storm. 
"Ok…" His eyes are on the floor as he rubs the back of his neck. Then he starts to pace around the little kitchenette you've shared for almost six months, just before you started gaining weight.
He stops to look out the window, then turns to you, and the hurt in his stare comes through like a thousand needles pushing through skin.
"Is it because of my work?" 
"No."
"What is it then?"
Your breaths are getting out of hand, too. He looks like a lost, tired creature in an abandoned animal shelter for a moment, and it breaks your heart. It squeezes the organ inside a flaming fist until it shatters like it has never been nothing more than ice.
Your lip starts to tremble, and he notices, as per usual. Nothing escapes this man, except perhaps the true reason for your anguish.
"Hey. Hey."
He comes to you and hugs you like it's the only thing that matters: to comfort you when he sees you're about to cry, no matter how crushed he's feeling himself. The sudden warmth, the intimacy after weeks and weeks of pain is knee-buckling. 
"Is there anything I can do to change your mind?"
His voice is soft, so soft… The tears rush forth now; there's no way of stopping them. What the hell can you even say to a question like that? That you wish he could grab a magic wand and turn you into someone gorgeous, the woman he deserves?
His embrace feels good, kind of. It also feels smothering because your self-hate makes you want to disappear from existence entirely. His eyes are equal to physical touch, a probing scan that sees every little flaw, not to talk about massive faults, the ones which make you feel like you're simply disgusting. His touch only reminds you how you must feel like to him: soft, too soft, weak.
And he must hate weakness.
"What do you need me to do? I'll do anything," he tries with a parched throat, then swallows. 
It's fucking horrible. This isn't going at all like you had imagined.
"It's not about you," you struggle out of his hold, and he lets you go with reluctance. You have to basically fight your way out of a bone and steel prison. Why would he even want to hold a pathetic woman who's on the brink of ugly crying on top of everything?
"What do you mean?"
He's slightly breathless – and restless as fuck. He's usually so calm; nothing can get to him, nothing can rattle the tower of raw strength. Now you've not only pierced some invisible armor; you can hear pieces of it falling on the floor.
"Have you found someone else?"
What the…
"No." You put as much weight on that word as you possibly can. To imagine that he thinks you are cheating… Fucking cheating on someone like him. "Jesus Christ…"
He takes a deep breath and sighs deeply, sighs out relief, perhaps. Then his razor-sharp stare fixes on you again, and you can see the fear turning into something akin to concern. You suspect you have to tell him the truth, otherwise he will dig it out of you. 
"I'm just…" 
Jesus, this is just humiliating. 
"I'm just not your type."
"What the hell are you talking about," he mutters, the impending fury giving way to momentary surprise. 
He gets intense sometimes. This time, the ferocity is born of barely concealed distress. He's broad and magnificent, even in despair. He’s just so fucking fine… The perfect man, someone you had never even imagined yourself with. Pulled down to the world of puny mortals, evidently stressing about losing one. 
Losing you.
"If you have someone new, you can just bloody well tell me."
"It's not that. You don't understand–" 
"Try me."
"I just…" A tear escapes down your face as you finally break for him. "I'm fat. Okay? And ugly. And–"
"Stop right there."
The look on his face is just… It's priceless, you suppose.
"Bloody fucking hell…" 
He looks at the floor, then runs his fingers through the short cut hair on top of his head. You've yanked those blonde strands more times than you can count, nearly every time he's been between your legs, and you miss it – you long for it, like fallen angels long for heaven. 
And if there was a time this man was rendered speechless, you would say you were witnessing that moment right now. His brows knit together, then he looks up at you again with blaring disbelief.
"You're serious?"
"Yes."
"This is the reason you wanna break up?"
Ugh.
"Yes?"
His voice grows rougher with every question until it resembles thunder, and you suspect this is the commanding tone his soldiers are used to hearing. 
But you're not: it's gravelly, harsh, and betrays the feeling of having been insulted. You feel even more devastated with yourself – it appears you can do nothing right.
"Where has this… idea even come to your head?"
"I don't know." 
"And you never thought to ask my opinion?"
"Would you please stop yelling," you whisper and blink back some putrid tears. His mouth is snapped shut, his head pulls back just a little as he realizes what he's done. 
"Sorry," he says with a half-whisper, and you catch the strain in his throat. You've never seen him cry, but now his voice is suddenly thin and frail. "I'm sorry."
He takes a step, then another, places fingertips on the counter as if to take the faintest support.
"Can I touch you?"
You don't really want him to do that, but you feel pity for the man. He's trying to find a way through this mess, and you want to help him.
"Yes," you whisper, and he immediately comes and takes you in his arms again. Hot tears disappear into his shirt, and you sniff a few times. He feels so good, so safe, even when you're about to lose him. His hold tightens around you, and the kitchen is silent; the whole world is silent. You don't know if you're being put to a grave or if you're in a deaf womb, waiting to be reborn.
"Now I don't know who's said this shite to you but ugly is the last fucking thing I'd call you," he declares above you. As if it was some bully whose fault it is that you were this way, a bully he could deal with with his fists or a gun. If only things were that easy…
"Have I said or done something? To make you feel this way?"
Then the blade is turned against himself. The man desperately searches for a culprit so he can deal with them.
"No," is the only thing you can say because it's true: he has never done a thing to make you feel like you weren't good enough; quite the contrary. But then again, he doesn't have to. It's enough that he exists and resembles a god.
"Then why do you think you're not my type?"
"Because you're so perfect," you hear yourself wail, no, cry into that shirt that smells of sweet safety and familiar musk – his scent, another thing you have missed like it's the only way to heaven.
"That for sure ain't true."
"But it is."
He seems to have the utmost difficulty in grasping what the issue here is. You can almost hear the wheels turning in his head with a rusty, laborious creak.
"Can't believe you wanna break up because of this," he finally says. You've chipped his pride, the ego that lives off of pleasing the ones he loves: the few chosen ones who he wants to give his whole life to. 
"To me, you're perfect," he then says, and you simply… You stop breathing. "You're like… my dream woman. Ever thought about that?"
It can't be true, even if you vehemently, desperately want it to be. You reach out to his words like they're precious food after years of famine. Like they're sun and spring rain after being buried in the cold, dark soil whole winter.
"No…?"
"Never occurred to you that I might find you fucking beautiful?"
"Stop," you whisper, because it's too much to take in. He sounds so serious, so sincere.
"No, I don't think I will."
He pulls back a little and cups your face. Brushes away a tear, looks at you with so much love that it physically hurts; you feel like it's a lance that slowly drives through your heart.
"How about I kiss every part I love about you?"
You let out a soft little whimper. Fuck, that you want him to… 
It would also be uncomfortable as hell. To try and let him love you and your body, which you have grown to loathe.
"It's gonna take all night, though. Wanna be as thorough as possible."
"Simon–"
"Love. I want you. Thought I'd made it pretty clear, but apparently I haven't. If you only knew how much–"
He sighs deeply. The man is frustrated with his shortcomings, thinks that this is all his fault. You cry a tear or two just for the sake of how absurd it all is. 
"I don't want you to go. I fucking love you. Everything about you."
For the second time this afternoon, your lower lip starts to tremble as if this was some stupid, romantic movie. He can be so soft when he wants to, more romantic than the soft-spoken gentlemen in Jane Austen's novels. It doesn't even require any effort: underneath the cynical surface, there's fiery emotion, so powerful and raw that it almost bleeds out of him. Fuck… Does he even know what he's doing to you?
"I love you too," you whisper back, and the warmth that starts to bloom in his eyes is an entire sun on its own. It's hope, and you believe him, almost believe him.
"Then I'd say it's a bloody bad idea to break up."
You chuckle while few more tears push through to the surface.
"Simon…" You sigh and look back up at him, your armor falling to the floor too. "I feel like a wreck."
You allow him to see the pain, all of it. His breath is sharp as it hits him, but he still doesn't waver.
"Then let me help you."
The arms around you gain more strength, and you're crushed against a chest made of power. He tries to turn shit to gold, and threatens to succeed. You allow yourself to soften in his hold. How good it feels to be supported – no, loved.
"You don't even let me touch you anymore."
It's a filed complaint, but also heart-rending, soul-wrenching longing. You have evaded him for weeks now – hell, this shit began months ago and has escalated gradually, stealthily, until the moments together were a rarity, the space between you was full of frost; and not the crispy, happy summer drink kind.
"I thought you'd found someone else. Could've found out if that was the case in minutes, but honestly, I didn't wanna know."
Oh my God…
Has he lived with a growing suspicion and dread all these months? 
That would explain why he has avoided you too…
He has allowed you to go to your supposed lover, has given you space to be alone and without too much attention. The man has shielded himself from pain. 
Jesus fucking Christ.
"I'm so sorry," you say with a strained little breath. "I swear it's nothing like that. I just… I feel like a mess."
"Never seen such a gorgeous mess." 
He speaks on your skin, the kiss on your forehead feels like an absolution. 
Then you notice it's not only his words which try to assure you. He's growing harder by the minute against your stomach, just from a simple hug. Just from being pressed against you like this, after weeks of dry, bitter longing.
"Miss your taste," he murmurs to your skin, his voice like sand wrapped in burning velvet. "The sounds you make when you want it hard."
Oh God–
"Miss your smile when we go to shower after."
"Hmh…"
"Don't wanna live without that smile."
You don't have to. 
God, you don't have to…
"How about we make a deal," he draws fingers down your chin, coaxing you to look up at him. His eyes are stripped from the cold distance that greeted you just moments ago: now they are filled with warmth that spreads to your chest and belly and bones. You drink him in like summertide.
"You come to me every time you feel bad and I'll make you feel good. Alright?"
"...Ok." 
He tilts his head a little to the side, not entirely satisfied with your shy little answer.
"Come on. Make me believe it."
"It's a deal," you say with more grit to it, even if you're nearly crying again, this time from relief.
"That's my girl."
Oh fuck…
He knows exactly what strings to pull, the good girl talk being one of the things that instantly makes your legs feel like jelly. 
And why does he always have to use that voice when he calls you a good girl or his girl, that sultry smoke that makes you want to swoon until he catches you and carries you to bed?
The man seems to be a mind reader as well, because he sweeps you off your feet and does exactly that: carries you to your bed which has mainly seen silent tears and painful sleep last months.
"Poor thing doesn't even know how lovely she is."
He sounds amused in the face of your darkness: sees it in full and still doesn't fear at all. He's ready to battle your demons for you, and you feel like shaking: from his touch and that voice, from the stress and loneliness that starts to release as he lays you down on the bed.
He looks so different from the man that has haunted this place for the past months, the complete opposite of the reserved soldier retreating into the shadows.
He moves to kiss you, and it's been – what? Weeks since your last kiss? And even that was only a quick peck, nothing like this… Wet, and desperate; a devouring. It makes you clench around nothingness, and you finally surrender. 
No one can fake such fervor.
You try to accept it: accept the fact that even if you hate yourself, he does not. For some reason, he adores you. His breaths hit your face hot and urgent, and he can't keep his hands to himself anymore. They wander over your waist and hips, they even risk to steal a feel of your breasts, and then he groans in your mouth.
"I've missed you. Fuck, I've missed you..."
You taste notes of burning leaves; tobacco, his only weakness. You fantasize on the thought that you might be another weakness, too.
"Remember when I fucked you in my office?"
"I've missed you too," you utter softly in between the kisses that threaten to turn into a sloppy mess. "So much..."
He smiles at that, and it makes you weak, even when lying down like this.
"Yeah…?"
"You were so loud I had to put a hand over your mouth."
His voice is thick as he laughs a short chuckle. Your inner walls clench again at the sound, you throb among the warm syrup surrounding you.
"Never seen you so wet. Almost dripped all over my gear."
"It's that stupid mask you wear," you hear yourself breathe like you've just been underwater. Feel yourself throb some more, feel a burning sensation in the nether areas from the scorched desert turning wet again. You want him so much that it actually hurts down there.
"Knew you'd like it. That's why I kept it on."
If this man keeps talking, your underwear is going to be utterly ruined. And of course he does; of course he continues to pour more love in your ear.
"Everyone looked at you like you were a queen," he grunts in your ear, sounding almost… pissed.
"Don't be ridiculous," you try to form sensible words. It's only a faint breath, really, but he huffs at your modesty. 
"You don't have eyes in the back of your head, love."
Wow… He is a bit pissed.
Had they checked your ass out when you visited him? 
It was the first and, what you thought, the last time you got to visit him at his workplace… but you never would have guessed the reason for him not asking you to visit again would be jealousy. 
"Don't worry. I put those fuckers in their place after you left." 
Whoa. 
Ok…
First, he had fucked you senseless in his office – a highly inappropriate move for a man in his position – then got jealous because some soldiers had checked you out as you left with his cum practically dripping from your cunt.
You put yourself in his shoes for a moment: he's had to live with thoughts of you running to some other man's arms when he's not home, and then watch you waltz around his workplace after making what was supposed to be the last effort to make him love you… When he has loved and adored you this whole time, has watched the sway of your ass with the rest of those home-deprived, horny soldiers, thinking you had fallen out of love and were on your way to go see some other guy.
Had he invited you there to try and win you back, too? By showing himself to you in all his puffed up, masculine glory? A desperate man in a skull mask, hoping to get love from you…
There's so many misunderstandings; they rip your throat. A sob escapes, and he stops his caress.
"Love… Tell me to stop if you–"
"No. No, I don't want you to stop." 
Your request comes out with such demand that he hesitates only a second or two. Then he moves on top of you and tugs your skirt up. You don't even have time to realize what is happening before he has worked himself out of his pants.
He's hard and heavy between your legs, and your eyes go wide as you realize he's not going to bother to take your briefs off. He just slides a hand under the skirt and draws the fabric aside, and the fat tip of him is pushed in the middle almost clumsily. It's hot, and slips down to your opening with ease.
Oh f–
"Been jerking off to you nearly every night at the base," he says just before he pushes himself in. 
"Uh–...."
Your thighs spread wide as he fills you slowly, inch after inch. The sound that leaves him is starved: a dry, painful sigh. He's been waiting for this for god knows how long, and you're just as hungry to take him in. He seems endless, the way he finally works himself fully inside, spreading you even wider as the thickening base of his cock reaches its end. 
"Thought you were getting railed by someone else while I only get to fuck my hand."
"Oh god…"
There's really nothing else to say as his balls press against you, heavy and taut. He's not going to last long.
"Yeah. Imagine that," he admits, breathless like you. 
You look at him with what must be the most helpless stare of longing in your eyes. Then he moves, and you want to grip him to keep him inside. The first thrusts are divine, they're pure heaven, and your head sinks deep into the pillow as you try to get enough air, try to not scream from pleasure already. Somehow, all you are able to utter is a desperate little whisper.
"Simon–"
His cock is good enough to bring tears to your eyes. You're starving too, you're pulling him in with fierce hunger, and he groans, then nearly falls forward, his weight pressing against you, swallowing you, until you feel like you're an idiot for thinking that you're too big. The thickness of his chest rubs against you as he makes love to you with passion that echoes the first times you did this.
"Just wanna adore you, love." He's panting desperate somewhere above you. A god and a man, both furious and gentle. "I wanna adore you. Just like this."
You answer him with what must be those sounds he told you about, the sounds you make when you want it hard. 
You want him to fuck you, to wreck you after weeks of loneliness and hate. To love you until you break into a million pieces.
"Simon," you whisper. "...Love me."
He halts, huffs in your neck. It's almost a sob. There's so much emotion and desperation in the air that it could be scooped up and sold in the streets.
"Always," he rasps in your ear, then moves to kiss you again. "Always."
The promise echoes around you, it coats your lips as he loves you with all he has. It's been so long, and he feels so good that you nails dig into his shirt, his shoulder, you try to hold onto him even though he's the wave that rocks you.
"You feel that?" He goes deep; he's out of breath and desperate, even more desperate than you. "That's love. You feel it, yeah?"
"Yes," you sob in his shoulder, tears trying to escape your waterline as you're going dumb from the pure sensation, the sensuality of it all. 
"That's it, love. That's a good girl," he turns to your neck and gruffs in your ear as you whimper and moan. "Always such a good girl."
Shit…
"I, I'm gonna…"
Your legs wrap around his middle, your muscles twitch and your hands reach and grab – they claw and yank and tug everything they can: his back, shoulders, shirt, something sturdy to keep you from drowning in a glorious orgasm.
He laughs in your neck and continues to grind you through your climax even when you're shattering, sighing, moaning, writhing under him. He just laughs, the man who never laughs: from witnessing you respond to him calling you a good girl.
Fucking bastard…
Lovable, infuriating bastard who knows you to your core. 
You're an overstimulated heap by the time he comes as well, not long after you, but long enough to make you feel like you're only a tender bunch of nerves. Your legs have fallen to the side, he has open access to take what he needs: you, your love, all of it.
His whole middle goes tense as he cums, he groans and swears somewhere deep into your neck, rolls his hips over and over again like it's a must that his balls press against you with every thrust that shoot his load. 
Then he falls slack, nearly collapses on top of you, reminding you of what it feels like to be small under a giant like him. You're throbbing together, you're full and fulfilled, and he is still lodged deep inside you, panting and broken in a sweat.
"Jesus Christ…" 
He sounds dazed. 
Relieved. 
"Should've done this weeks ago."
You laugh at seeing him so done – a man in love, torn by jealous yearning, finally taking what's his. You stroke his neck, his back – it's so good to have him finally there… So close, with no barriers in between.
"I should've talked to you weeks ago..." 
"Yeah. You should have."
"Are you going to punish me?" You giggle a little – the flirt is light and frees your heart further from its recent jail. He moves to look at you with all the tenderness there is. It's too much... His love is too much. But you won't run from it anymore.
"Nah. Think I'm gonna spoil you some more."
He spoils you right away with a kiss. You surrender to his treatment with happiness: happy tears, even. 
The medicine to your anguish has been the exact opposite to what you had first tried, what you had originally thought. The true remedy for your sickness is mercy. Perhaps some spoiling…
And love.
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f1byjessie · 3 months
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HE LIKES MY AMERICAN SMILE ━━ OP81.
love is a wild ride, and logan sargeant's sister is about to find this out the hard way.
( oscar piastri x sargeant!reader )
━━ part two.
INSTAGRAM.
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liked by logansargeant, williamsracing, and 17,349 others
tagged: logansargeant
yourusername from a little boy meeting his heroes to a young man racing alongside them, getting to see all you’ve accomplished throughout the years makes me the proudest sister in the world. 2024 better watch its back, because sargeants always come back swinging.
view all 2,863 comments
logansargeant we pack a mean punch too 👊
↳ yourusername the meanest 👊
user wait no cuz this is actually so cute omg??? i want a sister to make cute posts about me
user definitely can’t wait to see more y/n at the races in 2024
williamsracing It was lovely having you in the paddock this season Y/N! We’re already looking forward to seeing what 2024 has in store!
↳ yourusername it was a genuine honor to be there! plus i look great in blue 😉💙
↳ user wait does this mean logan is re-signing??
alex_albon me and lily would love to have you both come round during the break if schedules align! 
↳ yourusername awwww alex!! speaking on behalf of logan, we’d love to!!
user i’m living vicariously through the sibling bond that the sargeant twins have
INSTAGRAM.
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liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, and 426,972
tagged: oscarpiastri
mclaren Some of our favourite meme-worthy images of Oscar from 2023! Which is your fav?
view all 2,632 comments
oscarpiastri guys…
user mclaren admin knows what the people want
↳ user mclaren admin feeding us well on this fine day
user these are actually so funny omg mans ain’t got no face filter
landonorris yea so this won’t be necessary for me pls and thx
↳ mclaren We already have the pictures ready! 👍
user i’ve made all of these faces at my tv this year
yourusername oh to be a rubber ducky in oscar piastri’s ice bath
↳ user OH? MY?? GOD???
↳ user UMMMM
↳ user real
INSTAGRAM.
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liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri, and 835,781 others
tagged: oscarpiastri
landonorris papaya pals! looking forward to another season with you mate
view all 6,264 comments
user going into cardiac arrest
user damn oscar looking caked up
↳ user i’m glad i wasn’t the only one thinking it
oscarpiastri of all the pictures
↳ landonorris i giveth thy people what they want
↳ yourusername and we thank you for it sir lando 🫡
user MANIFESTING MORE PODIUMS FOR 2024
mclaren Looking forward to another year, boys! 🧡
danielricciardo you’re only posting these to show off your ass
↳ landonorris and if i am?
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liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri, and 11,263 others
yourusername i can still recall our last summer 
view all 926 comments
logansargeant it’s december 1st???
↳ yourusername it’s summer somewhere
user i wish i lived in florida
user MAMMA MIA REFERENCE
oscarpiastri ☀️
↳ yourusername 🌊
user i’m so delulu about what this could mean
↳ user it’s probably just an aesthetic caption?? y’all are fr crazy
↳ user no cuz it’s literally winter rn in the states so why would she post about summer?
↳ user bc she lives in florida?? where the weather is like summer all the time??
You lower your phone and look back to the dark waters crashing against the shore. Logan’s time in Formula 1 has meant you’ve been traveling around the world, getting to experience so much more than you’d ever imagined you would in your lifetime, but nothing compares to the familiarity and comfort of Florida— of home.
And your friends.
“So,” Sophia bumps her shoulder against yours, eyes alight with mischief when you turn to meet her expectant gaze. “Come on,” she teases, “tell me about him.”
You’ve been friends with her for a few years now, ever since moving back to the United States. She was born and partially raised in Belgium, so after spending so long in Europe, she’s the only one who understood the minor culture shock of moving back. You both clicked, and you’ve been stuck together ever since. You’ve learned, however, that if there’s one constant about her, it’s without a doubt her need to gossip about anything and everything— but specifically boys.
You huff out a laugh, “There’s no ‘he’ to tell you about.”
She hums into her glass of wine, eyeing you skeptically.
“There isn’t!” You laugh, shoving her lightly.
She gasps and feigns falling back onto the blanket spread out beneath you. She’s dramatic, too, and that’s another reason you matched so well. She feels like the sister you never had, which makes moments like this feel even more special.
“This back and forth with a certain OP-eighty-one suggests otherwise,” she sing-songs back at you as she sits up, making kissing faces and cackling when you shove at her again.
“I’m not sure how you even know about that,” you grumble. “You don’t even use Instagram.”
“Maybe not, babes,” she casts her gaze out across the ocean, “but I have my sources. So come on, between us girls and us girls only, tell me what’s going on.”
You heave a sigh, gulp down the last mouthful of wine in your glass, and then pour yourself another while she waits. You’re not getting out of this, and part of you does really want to talk about things. On top of being your brother and therefore way more protective than he needs to be, Logan is also Oscar’s best friend and you’re not sure what “bro code” is exactly, but you imagine not dating your friend’s sister is part of it— so he’s out of the question. You’d go to Dalton if you were sure he wouldn’t tell Logan, but they’re loyal to each other and have some sort of unspoken pact when it comes to your love life. You joked once that instead of your dad, it’d be them waiting at the door with a shotgun if you ever brought a guy home, but you’re not sure it was a joke at all with how they act sometimes.
“It started in Bahrain,” you begin, rolling your eyes when she wiggles excitedly and turns her undivided attention to you. “I’ve known him for a while because he and Logan have driven together since they were young, so I messaged him after the race to say that it sucked he had to retire so early into it.”
“And?”
You shoot her a look. “And, we kept talking. One thing led to another and we met up for drinks…” You fiddle with the rim of your glass, glancing back out to the water. You can’t tell if the heat on your face is because you’re embarrassed, or from spending so much of your day under the Floridian sun. “That’s it.”
“That’s it?” She asks incredulously.
“Well—” you purse your lips. “We kissed. Once. When he dropped me off at the hotel. But it was probably just the alcohol or something. I don’t think he wanted it to mean anything. I bet he just wanted to have fun but couldn’t because he had to leave early in the morning.”
She sends you a look. “He was sober enough to drive you back… but you think it was alcohol influencing his decisions? And he kissed you, even knowing he wouldn’t be able to ‘have fun?’ Right. Didn’t mean anything at all.”
You shake your head and huff. “He was upset because he’d had such high hopes for his first Grand Prix and it ended poorly, and I was there to comfort him, so maybe that’s why. He got caught up in the moment, or something.”
“Y/N, I love you. I do. You’re my best friend and you’re like a little sister to me,” she cups your face in her hands and turns you to look at her. “But you can be so dense sometimes, do you know that?”
“Then why hasn’t he brought it up?” You ask, your voice garbled slightly from the way her hands squish your cheeks together. “We saw each other again in Melbourne, to celebrate him getting his first points, and he didn’t say anything then. Or Miami, or England, or Japan.”
She gives you another look and lets your face go. “It’s a two-way street, babe. Why haven’t you brought it up?”
And… that’s a good point. You technically could’ve brought it up, too. You’d just been so afraid of how he would’ve reacted that you’d chosen to keep quiet, preferring uncertainty over rejection. It’s the same reason why you so rarely pursue the things you want. A fear of rejection stands in your way, and you realize suddenly that you could’ve ruined things with someone you genuinely like just because you were afraid.
“You know, like, Schrodinger’s cat," you start meekly. "If you don’t open the box, the cat is dead and alive, because you don’t know. So I never brought it up. Because not knowing is better than him telling me it was nothing.”
She reaches out and wraps her arm around your shoulders, pulling you into her side. When she speaks again, her voice is calmer, less accusatory, a murmur against the ambiance of the hissing tide— “But what if he tells you it’s something?”
You groan. “He probably thinks I’m not interested.”
“Y/N—”
“Oh God!” You pull away and bury your face into your hands. “I ruined it all!”
She pries your hands away and looks you in the eye. There’s a sparkle in her gaze, it’s the look she gets when she has a plan.
“You haven’t ruined it. We just have some work to do.”
━━ tags: @f1-is-lovely-33 @chasing-liberosis
━━ a/n: i am overwhelmed by the amount of love on the first part of this! genuinely did not anticipate it at all, and i'm so thankful. so here's the second part! i hope it does justice to the first!
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calisources · 2 months
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𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒.
Sentences were taken from different sources of literature that depict dark romance, these include possessive language, jealousy, power trips, some kinks, innuendos. Some sentences are tamer than others, please use wisely. Change names, pronouns and locations as you see fit. This meme is not safe for all audiences, as it contains adult themes.
Cara is mine, and only mine.
You didn’t seem to be in any danger when you were being my good, little girl.
A crush? I had consumed at least three of that woman’s bodily fluids, as she had mine. 
I worship you.
Very, very bad girl.
So you admit it, I make you scream.
See, my sweet gift? I knew you’d f/cking come around.
My beautiful, sweet gift. I am forever lost in you.
Let me heal those wounds and soothe that ache.
I’m gonna fuck you now. It’s gonna be fast and hard because I’ve waited too long for this.
In this fucked up world of ours, we're meant for each other.
I may have broken you, but know that you've broken me just the same.
Let me free you of the constraints of virtue. Better yet, free yourself.
You're supposedly protected by god, but here you are fucking the devil.
Like this you are powerful. Learn what it is to command the attention of a god.
I need you to take me the way you want me.
I hope you never forget about me and that the thought of me haunts you for eternity.
I was born to be your god, born with the power to make you do what I want.
You've captivated my soul and breathe life into me.
No escaping. I told you I'd never let you go.
I am a poison that all of humanity must fear.
You  ruined me and I can’t be bothered about it.
I forgot how good you taste. 
Real men get their girls nice and ready first.
This girl. She’s living, walking art. And she’s mine.
Do you want me on my knees?
You’re a bad man and you do bad things. You will always do bad things. But not to me.
You are painfully beautiful, do you know that?
Every time you look at me, it feels as if you start a wildfire inside my heart
Such a perfect girl you are, put on this world just for me.
I have killed for you, baby. And I’ll never stop.
You forgot I was a siren.
I just wanted to keep you forever.
I have missed you for so long. And now you are in front of me, but you’re afraid to touch me.
 There can never be anything in the world that would hurt me more than when you left me.
I don’t know if I want to cry or if I want to scream or if I want to fucking kiss you.
Christ, I wish you could see yourself. You look otherworldly.
I used to smell your dirty shirts when you weren’t looking.
In order for me to fuck you, I’m going to need you to be healed first.
 How I’ve missed that filthy mouth.
What else did I teach you?
You taught me how to be a good girl for you.
How to let you ravage me so badly that I feel like I’m on the brink of death.
I'm a simple man who's been reduced to his base instincts to hunt, capture, keep.
If she is my devil, then I will gladly burn.
If you don’t protect what belongs to you, then sooner or later, it belongs to someone else.
The power he holds over me―
You like to be owned by me? Knowing that I will kill anyone that ever tries to steal you away?
You want passion. A love that completely devours every inch of you. 
I know that you long for a little danger, too. I saw how you thrived on it.
It only hurts because I want you so much.
 if you could see yourself through my eyes, you’d know why I chose you. 
You taste like sin.
You're doing so good, Handsome.
No one touches what's mine.
And you are mine. Whether you agree is irrelevant.
I caught you, so now I get to ravish you.
Let’s do something about that mouth of yours, hm?
Be my woman, Ana. Allow me to call myself yours.
I want you to know that you can’t hide from me.
Play nicely, little lamb. Or else, I won’t.
I will do with you as I please.
Show me how much you want me.
You haven’t been getting what you need, have you?
Would it make you feel better if I call you Daddy while you fuck me?
You’ll never know when I’m going to drag you into the darkness.
I’m rough with your body sometimes, but I’ll always be gentle with your soul. 
Fucking hell, you’re sweet. You’re so goddamn sweet.
The flesh wants what it wants.
If you continue to behave like this, I'll actually start to believe you don't hate me.
Desire becomes surrender. Surrender becomes Power.
And I will break you. I will make it so you can't breathe without me. 
What happened to the thrill of the chase?
I just like the way wrong feels.
I swear I won't touch you even with a finger until you ask me yourself.
I need to hear a yes, sir.
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theoddest1 · 3 months
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Let's Actually Talk About The Issues With Vivziepop
Okay, first off, hello you beautiful people! Sorry about this foreboding title, but I needed to catch y'all attention on this so I can break down the issues that I and many have with "Hazbin Hotel" and "Helluva Boss" creator, Vivienne Medrano. Now I am sure you all on here are already aware of at least a couple of the controversies that revolve around this particular creator and if you have seen my posts floating around already, some have been greeted with the problems surrounding her social media presence and just her overall as a person. I know seeing another callout on her seems very very tiring at this point, but I felt that a lot of the current callouts missed key details that were not at all addressed or properly delved on. I plan on shedding light on my issues with her and I hope you get where I am coming from when I say that she sucks.
BULLYING
Okay, I am starting off with Vivienne's blatant use of bully mentality, her agreeing or encouraging her fans to call people who see flaws in her works sub-humans or harass those who find issue or simply jest about her works trademark cussing and and overcrowded designs. She has had this issue for YEARS and refuses to grow up and act her age despite many telling her, even her own fans at times, that she shouldn't be acting so unprofessionally. Clearly, she doesn't care and thanks to her fanbase caring more about her feelings than her being better she feels as though she doesn't need to change or do better. This goes for her friend group as well, who defend her tremendously and act as though she is never in the wrong. Name one time a friend of hers called her out for acting childish, I'll wait.
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Now, you're probably wondering, "Wtf could they have done to warrant such a response?"
Criticism...That's all they did. (White Text is random peeps they would speak with or maybe mutuals)
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Keep in mind...they used to be a fan as well. They were also a minor at this point
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But, Viv doesn't care, this person's critical yet harmless tweets about her shows is what lead to her painting them in a horrible light and making them out to be someone who has attacked her personally and as "nasty".
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Rich coming from Viv since she is completely fine doing exactly that for "Ava's Demon". Not only does she criticize it, she takes a shot at the creator as well, but GOD FORBID others do the same towards her.
And according to someone who knew her well, it's all cause they felt creeped out by her.
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Her hatred for criticism is so prominent that Ima makes that a section of its own. But let's get back on the topic of bullying.
Vivienne has a fanbase filled to the brim with pushy and overall annoying individuals who have harassed, threatened, disrespected, and wished harm on many people, all cause someone had a negative thing to say about Vivziepop's mid af show. One of the earlier known instances is the one revolving around a MEME of all things.
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This was what started it all, and it led to both parties blocking each other and people being mad pushy and calling them an idiot and the like over their opinions. Now look, their take and you're opinion on said take is fine so long as you stay respectful and humane about it all, but don't dogpike someone all cause they think HH sucks. And while Viv can not control her fanbase, for they are not a hivemind (some of y'all act it tho, ima keep it real) she is seen here ENCOURAGING the behavior. Tell me how someone who doesn't even like your trash ass show has the sense to tell people not to harass others, someone with a smaller following, but not your grown damn near 30 year old ass?
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Oh, but people wanna act like she can handle criticism, is a sweet person, and grew from her past experiences. Fam, she was 27 in this screenshot [December 16, 2019] and has shown no change from 2013 to fucking 2024. Over a decade of the same petty ass behavior, and keep in mind, according to several of her old friends and workers, she is worse behind close doors. WORSE. She's already acting like she got no damn sense out in the open, imagine behind closed doors.
Last but not least, a glimpse into her outright blatant slander towards Dollcreep, a once good friend of hers that she even visited and spoke with frequently!
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She stated that they fetishized pedophilia yet according to the victim and friends of the victim who were once friends with Viv as well, Viv actually threatened to end their friendship if he hadn't drawn NSFW art of her character and his character having sex [Addi was 15 at the time this was drawn]
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On top of that, she liked the post, something she didn't need to do. The art also depicted things she had regularly drawn on her own. Addi being tied up forcefully, being sexualized, being harmed to some degree through bondage, etc. The claim that she forced DC to draw this out is backed up by her own art depicting similar elements. Also, if my memory serves me well, Viv and Doll were 17-18 years old [Doll was 17 Viv 18] and have a 1-year age gap. The way Viv frames things here is as if DC was way older and imposed some sort of power over DC, which sources say otherwise. If anything, Viv had a LOT of control throughout all of this drama, which deserves its own section.
I'll be making posts that talk about the different issues regarding Viv, so one post isn't too long (this one is already lengthy enough) and that you can just pick at one post targeting certain issues around this creator.
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lenaellsi · 17 days
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it's honestly a bit odd to me that so many people have jumped on the 'aziraphale will be pulling all the strings and playing politics in heaven' train. like I think it's true that the metatron is underestimating aziraphale's intelligence and ability to disrupt the second coming even while separated from crowley, but I also think the idea that aziraphale is going up to heaven with a clear idea of how he's just been lied to, an understanding of how much danger he's in, and a plan to stop it is a huge reach.
frankly, aziraphale is very vulnerable to manipulation. I'm thinking now of neil’s post with the diary entry from before the edinburgh minisode where he was duped by two humans, the whole thing with the nazis in 1941, and his sponsorship of shadwell's various obviously fake agents (sergeant milkbottle, etc.). he's not nearly as savvy as fanon tends to portray him. he takes people at face value, especially people he thinks of as Good. (that's not a dunk, btw--I find these things endearing, and a sign of aziraphale's innate wish to see the best in people. I just think that sometimes the BAMF protective aziraphale of fanon overshadows the slightly more naive aziraphale of canon. and honestly, I also think TV aziraphale is just a bit softer than book aziraphale, though he is capable of stepping up when it counts.)
and he's a bad liar! I know it's a meme in the fandom that aziraphale lies all the time, but he doesn't like it, and he's bad at it. he gets nervous and comes up with terrible excuses and the only reason he ever gets away with it is because the people he's lying to are idiots (gabriel), have their own agendas (god, the other archangels), or trust him to be honest (crowley).
aziraphale's real strength is his ability to take sudden, completely unexpected action. that's one of the things that crowley admires most about him. "he's unpredictable," is what he says to nina, and it's true! aziraphale's greatest moments of rebellion have always come from spur of the moment decisions, not intricate plans. (if anything, crowley is the planner--the arrangement and the thwarting of the apocalypse, their two longest cons, were both his idea.)
aziraphale gives the sword away because when he is forced to make a decision under pressure, he tends to land on the side of rebellious kindness. shielding crowley from the rain in eden, lying to gabriel to protect job's family, defying the quartermaster and returning to earth via possession during the apocalypse, blowing up his halo--he does these things because he's following that same impulse. when aziraphale has time to over think, he frets and fusses and is paralyzed by indecision. (or worse, he falls back on what heaven has taught him.)
TL;DR: I don't think aziraphale has any sort of grand plan other than a generalized "make things better," and I certainly don't think he is planning to betray heaven. he might try to come up with a plan once he figures out how bad things are going to get, but my bet is that what will actually disrupt the second coming is an absolutely bonkers off the wall decision that no one, crowley included, could ever predict. and I think it’ll happen, as it usually does with aziraphale, just after he accepts a difficult truth that fundamentally shifts his worldview—in this case, his final rejection of the idea of “good” and “bad” people, and of the entire morality system of heaven and hell.
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cosmerelists · 3 months
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Cosmere Characters: Should They Be At The Club?
As I think I've mentioned, I write these lists a couple months in advance, usually. So I don't know if the great "They should be at the club!" meme is still going strong, or if people will see this and be all, "Bah! That's SO 2023!" But eh.
So anyway, should Cosmere characters be at the club?
1. Dalinar
Dalinar should not be at the club. Dalinar would not understand the club, and he would not like the club.
2. Sadeas
Weirdly, I think Sadeas would understand the club better than Dalinar would, but he still should not be there. Sadeas's presence would make the club worse, no matter how fashionable he is.
3. Tress
Tress was only eighteen! She should have been at the club, although the club would probably be less exciting than her life at sea.
4. MeLaan
MeLaann is only, uh, thousands of years old (I think) but she should ABSOLUTELY be at the club. She would love the club, and the club would love her too.
5. Rlain
Has Rlain ever NOT been having a tough time? He deserves a wild night at the club with Renarin, and I'm sticking with that.
6. Vivenna
Vivenna was only twenty-two when she was supposed to be sent to marry the god-king. Yes, she should have been at the club instead. She would hate it, though. She would hate it so much.
7. Painter
Painter should get to be at a club lurking in a corner, drinking vodka on the rocks because it sounds tough and wishing it didn't taste so much like rubbing alcohol.
8. Hoid
Hoid should not be at the club. He's very old and also, no one at the club would be able to hear what he was saying and that would make Hoid sad.
9. Demoux
Demoux was in his early twenties when Kelsier's rebellion was going on. He 100% should have been at the club instead. He's named after a friend of Brandon's and Brandon said he'd survive and "get a girl" apparently and those are both things that can happen at a club.
10. Lift
Lift should not be at the club. Isn't she like 13? That's too young for the club.
11. Kaladin
Kaladin should be at the club. Adolin will have to drag him there, though, and he will spend much of the time looking glowery.
12. Ulaam
Ulaam should not go to the club because drunk people cannot consent to giving up their body parts (even after death) and Ulaam knows that and it would make him sad to see all of those beautiful elbows or what-not and not even be able to ASK for them.
13. Sebarial
Sebarial should not be at the club--he should be home drinking with Palona. He would own clubs, though, if he could.
14. Hrathen
Hrathen should not be at the club. He would definitely kill the vibe.
15. Szeth
Szeth is like 35 years old. He should not be at the club. He should be wrapped in a warm blanket and placed somewhere quiet, peaceful.
16. Moash
Yes--at any point in the narrative you can look at what Moash is going through and say, "Would it be better for him to be at the club right now?" and the answer is always yes.
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POV: AUSTIN BUTLER IS IN LOVE
(AND DOESN’T CARE WHO KNOWS IT)
masterlist here x
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liked by fan21, user13, and 937 others
enews Love is in the air! Austin Butler and his girlfriend shared the sweetest reunion outside the airport 😭 more photos at the link in bio
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fan34 omg i am so freaking jealous
user12 GOD HAS FAVORITES AND IT AINT ME
butlerfan It feels so good to see him be publicly in love and not hide it anymore
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austinbutler Happy day 🎂❤️
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fan13 LMAO THE OFFICE MEME RETURNS
tchalamet happy birthday gee! @yourinstagram
zendaya 27 has never looked better queen 💕
ashleytisdale I’m telling Jupiter LOL! Happiest birthday to you @yourinstagram you are a blessing in our lives 🥰🥰
ashleybee HAPPY HAPPY BIRTHDAY 💘💘💘
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yourinstagram 💋 smooches for @austinbutler
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glenpowell Austin Butler is one lucky lucky man
fan13 not glen in the comment section please
user13 this gets cuter when you realize she was actually kissing him through the glass 😭❤️
oliviadejonge absolute stunner 🥀
austinbutler Get over here right now
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enews Austin Butler and girlfriend spotted sharing a few cuddles and kisses while on a date! We all know how much they love their smooches 😚
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user21 one hand on her back, other in her pocket this man knows he’s fine
fan13 IM SO FUCKIN LONELY 😩
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austinbutler sweatin’ because my date is so hot
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ashleybee HAHA the caption 😂😂
yourinstagram lol u cheesy man 🫶🏻 ily
anthonyboyle He was probably so proud with it too 😂
keoghan ace mateeee 😌
ayoedibiri this is my favorite post you have ever posted
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liked by keoghan92, zendaya, and 93166 others
austinbutler Took over lighting production during a visit on set and she killed it !!
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florencepugh I’m so mad you didn’t bring her on the Dune set
yourinstagram WHAT DO YOU MEAN I WAS THERE EVERY WEEKEND
florencepugh not enough. i needed you there every day.
yourinstagram Michael Mann said the job is mine 🤩
user13 y/n getting a job on the heat 2 set iktr!!!
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liked by tchalamet, bazluhrmann, and 101766 others
austinbutler I want to do with you what spring does to cherry tress - Pablo Neruda
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fan23 … is everyone else also transfixed on her awesome boobs or am i a perv ?
oliviadejonge gorgeous girl
tomholland2013 aren’t we lucky boys mate?
ashleytisdale 😍😍😍
ayoedibiri she’s got you quoting pablo neruda and i completely understand why
yourinstagram if your boyfriend isn’t also your photographer break up with him
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liked by catherinemartinedesigns and 89716 others
austinbutler 🕶️
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zendaya the coolest to ever do it
keoghan92 sickkkk
rileykeough Austin we’re gonna need you to release a book of all the photos you have of this gorgeous girl 🌚
ashleybee Her job is Cool Barbie
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liked by ashleybee, anthonyboyle, and 67178 others
yourinstagram was my turn to snap a photo of this handsome guy who makes me the happiest i have ever been ♥️♾️ ‘love could be labeled poison and we’d drink it anyway’
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austinbutler oh no
yourinstagram taste of your own medicine mister lol
keoghan92 my teeth can’t handle the sweetness
florencepugh not one bad photo of either of you exists
ashleybee Having a big sister moment because he’s winked the same since he was like 5
yourinstagram can we look at baby pictures again 🥹
No disrespect intended to Austin’s current relationship, I respect their privacy but also I really wish Austin would post his gf, talk about her, all that good stuff I GET WHY HE DOESN’T 😭
also using Sydney Sweeney as a FC because I’m currently obsessed with her she’s awesome?? Brilliant ??? She is everything. Also I may have an idea for part 2 but it would be nsfw concerning leaked nudes and such but would anyone be interested in that? Lemme know! As always feel free to come chat 💬
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rainystarters · 2 months
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๋࣭ ⭑𓆩✧𓆪🗡ྀ࿔ 〖 and other stories . . . 〗 a collection of dialogue + action prompts inspired by angela carter's the bloody chamber and other stories. some prompts usfw. add +reversed for the muse receiving the meme to perform the action instead. adjust details as necessary.
dialogue :
are you sure you want to marry him?
oh! how you must want me!
soon.
i had never been vain until i met you.
anticipation is the greater part of pleasure.
all the better to see you.
what is that key? the key to your heart?
every man must have one secret, even if only one, from his wife.
all is yours, everywhere is open to you.
but now... what shall i do now?
my darling, i cannot wait for the moment when you make me yours completely.
there is a striking resemblance between the act of love and the ministrations of a torturer.
you are in some great distress.
any bride brought to a castle should come ready dressed in mourning.
oh god. i can smell the blood.
i thought all these were old wives' tales, chattering of fools, spooks to scare bad children into good behavior!
can't it wait until morning, my darling?
who can say what i deserve or no?
i've done nothing; but that may be sufficient reason for condemning me.
i have a place prepared for your exquisite corpse upon my display of flesh.
good fellow? i am no good fellow.
forgive me for robbing your garden!
all she wanted, in the whole world, was one white, perfect rose.
and what else was there to be done?
they are the death of any tender herbivore.
so late! you will want sleep.
you will come back to me? it will be lonely here, without you.
i will come back. soon, before the winter is over.
i am sick and i must die.
if you'll have me, i'll never leave you.
i think i might be able to manage a little breakfast today.
i have lost my pearl, my pearl beyond price.
if you are so careless of your treasure, you should expect them to be taken from you.
for all my pride, my heart is heavy.
if you wish to give me money, then i should be pleased to receive it.
i shall twist a noose out of my bed linen and hang myself with it.
you are a woman of honor.
nothing human lives here.
we have dispensed with servants.
take off my clothes for you, like a ballet girl? is that all you want of me?
all cats are cynics.
you read my thoughts, my love.
the woods enclose. the wood swallows you up.
all will fall still, all lapse.
it is easy to lose yourself in these woods.
i thought that nobody was in the wood but me.
there are some eyes can eat you.
sometimes the birds, at random, all singing, strike a chord.
eat me, drink me.
dive in and fetch it for me.
now you are at the place of annihilation.
and she is herself a cave full of echoes, she is a system of repetitions, she is a closed circuit.
can a bird sing only the song it knows or can it learn a new song?
beauty is a symptom of disorder, of soullessness.
a single kiss woke up the sleeping beauty in the wood.
be he alive or be he dead.
coffee. you must have coffee.
welcome. welcome to my chateau.
i rarely receive visitors and that's a misfortune since nothing animates me half as much as the presence of a stranger.
this place is so lonely.
now the village is deserted.
often i am so silent that i think i, too, will soon forget how to do so and nobody will ever talk any more.
i must apologize for the lack of light.
you have such a fine throat, like a column of marble.
i am condemned to solitude and dark.
i do not mean to hurt you.
i will be very gentle.
and could love free me from the shadows?
i've been waiting for you in my wedding dress, why have you delayed for so long.
you will feel no pain, my darling.
so delicate and damned, poor thing. quite damned.
the end of exile is the end of being.
it is a northern country; they have cold weather, they have cold hearts.
the devil is as real as you or i.
do not leave the path.
you are always in danger in the forest.
they are as unkind as plague.
fear and flee the wolf; for, worst of all, the wolf may be more than he seems.
besides, aren't you afraid of the wolves?
actions :
clasp. from behind, the sender places their hands over the receiver's eyes.
opera. through opera glasses, the sender watches the receiver.
choker. the sender fastens a gemstone necklace around the receiver's neck.
carriage. the sender locks the receiver in with them in their train compartment.
spine. the sender presses a kiss to the back of the receiver's bare neck.
cigar. the sender leans in and blows smoke in the receiver's face.
ermine. the sender wraps the furs around the receiver tighter as the snow falls.
keys. the sender silently enters the room and listens to the receiver play piano.
harem. the sender undresses the receiver before a collection of mirrors.
lazy. the sender brings the receiver breakfast in bed.
call. the sender calls the receiver and bursts into tears upon hearing their voice.
note. the sender discovers a love letter sent to the receiver from a previous lover.
death. the sender finds the receiver with the body of their latest victim.
hospitality. the sender watches from the shadows as the receiver take refuge from a storm in the sender's seemingly abandoned home.
servant. invisible, the sender feeds/washes/cares for the receiver.
hearth. the sender and the receiver talk past midnight by the fire's light.
hands. the sender falls to their knees before the receiver and kisses their hands.
bouquet. the sender has a hundred white roses sent to the receiver.
reunion. the sender lays eyes upon the receiver for the first time in an age.
bad luck. the sender hangs their head having lost a bet to the receiver.
voice. the sender sends their valet to speak their desires to the receiver.
powder. the sender dresses/makes up the receiver before an important night.
stallion. the sender grabs the reins of the receiver's horse and leads them away.
weep. the sender cries at the sight of the receiver in such a state.
dry. the sender brushes a tear from the receiver's cheek.
flush. the sender pinches the receiver's skin, watching it redden with blood.
prey. the sender guides the receiver's hands as together they skin a rabbit.
song. the sender sings and the receiver is spellbound, their feet following their song's command.
caught. the sender locks the receiver into a cage.
green. by the sender's command, the growth begins to take over the receiver.
tarot. the sender tells the receiver they are doomed to a sad fate.
stain. the sender touches the bloodstain on the receiver's white negligée.
wild. the sender rides hard through the night, chasing the receiver.
thirst. the sender sinks their teeth into the neck of the receiver.
china. the sender pours tea for the receiver and offers them biscuits.
blemish. the sender explores the receiver's skin and finds the mark of a witch.
wolf. the wolf reveals themself to be the sender before the receiver.
muzzle. the sender kisses the monstrous mouth of the receiver.
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bokutosmochi · 7 months
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kinktober day one: size kink!
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BAGGY PANTS ♡ GETO SUGURU
fem!reader x metalhead!geto suguru
ingredients: geto suguru's baggy pants are more than just a fashion statement
what's it: smut
allergen warning/s: size kink, hair pulling, pleasure sub!reader, oral [m!receiving]
sugar level: 1.5k
regulars: @ventdavi154 @deobiforever @sugusshi @angelshub
parlor's note: you don't have to be a metalhead to be able to self insert, but it is mentioned a couple of times that you two attend metal concerts together. i love this fic, it's really just self indulgence and i hope you guys enjoy it too!
bon appetit!
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you've been friends with him since you were a student in high school, being inseparable and attached at the hip. whenever there's a metal band that's going on a world tour and is going to tokyo, he always comes knocking at your dorm's door. quite a number of nights and midnights of your teenage years were spent with him in the moshpit, and patching each other up because someone got too rowdy in said pit.
unfortunately, once you two graduated, due to a shortage of teachers in jujutsu tech tokyo's sister school located in kyoto, you had to transfer, making you and suguru drift apart for some time. of course, you always kept in touch with the man, a month wouldn't pass without either of you shooting the other a message, you'd always greet each other happy birthdays, send each other memes, and on rare occasions, you'd attend concerts together like you used to, but suffice to say, your relationship now is lackluster compared to your relationship then.
a few months ago though, you received an email from principal yaga about coming back to tokyo and being the third year's teacher. he informed you that he has already asked principal gakuganji about the matter and there was another sorcerer who could handle your students in kyoto, making the decision a no brainer.
the offer made your heart skip a beat in all right ways and in just a few more messages, you were unofficially a teacher at tokyo metropolitan jujutsu technical high school and the rest is history.
ever since reconnecting with geto, you've gotten closer and eventually started dating your best friend since high school. there were a few changes about him, but none that you minded. he was taller, broader, hair a few inches longer, and now, he wears it in a half-up hairstyle unlike back then when it was always in a bun. he's more mature now too, wiser, smarter, better at strategizing. finally, back when you were students, a hundred percent of the time, he'd opt to still hear his school uniform when going on outings, except for those concert nights where he'd wear this uniform pants and then the band's merch tee. nowadays, when you'd go on dates, he wears baggy pants, yet the chosen top is still the same -- at this point, you're sure that ninety percent of suguru's closet is just black band shirts, while the remaining one percent is composed of his uniforms.
it fit his whole aesthetic; his chosen outfits. it's all very him, and at first, you thought that was the only reason why he wore the things that he wore.
when did you change your mind? right now, as he stood before you with his pants down for the first time.
it started with him recommending you a song, the summoning by sleep token and at first, you reacted to it the way you do with any good metal music, headbanging and wondering how the band composed such wonderful sounds, but it was five minutes into the song where the mood in the room changed.
suguru's featherlight touches accompanied the sensual instrumentals and the yearning in the vocalists words and voice translated itself into the way you ran your fingers through your boyfriend's hair.
oh, and my love
did i mistake you for a sign from god?
or are you really here to cut me off?
or maybe just to turn me on
'cause these days
i would be lying if i told you that
i didn't wish that i could be your man
or maybe make a good girl bad
i've got a river running right into you
i've got a blood trail, red in the blue
something you say or something you do
the taste of the divine
you've got my body, flesh and bone
the sky above, the earth below
nothing to say and no where to go
a taste of the divine
one thing led to another, and one by one, you were both stripped of your clothing until you were nude, having nothing but the other's body heat to keep each other warm.
geto found his ego skyrocketing at the sight before him, and you found yourself salivating at the sight before you.
suguru's cock was hard, the tip - flushed red from the blood rushing downward - moist with specks of precum. it seemed to be so heavy, the muscle curved down, presumably from the weight. bulging veins decorated the shaft and it was all so pretty, as weird as it sounds to describe your boyfriend's dick with the word. perhaps using big would be more appropriate. after all, the fact that you were intimidated by the size shows in your eyes, looking like a deer in headlights.
"it's okay, baby," geto cooed, breaking you out of your how-am-i-gonna-fit-that-in-my-mouth induced trance. one of his big hands were on the side of your face, his thumb stroking your cheek in comfort. "you can take it inch by inch, kay? you'll be good for me, won't you?"
under his spell, you couldn't do anything but nod. the only thought bouncing around in your head was the want, no, the need to please the adonis of a man in front of you, and as a thank you, he graces you with a soft smile before pulling your pouty lower lip down with the pad of his thumb. your eyes wander over to his other hand, jerking his cock off and pressing the head to your kiss swollen lips.
"fuuuck, there you go, pretty." he moans out as you suck it into your mouth. his precum hits your taste buds and the salt and tang of it almost makes your eyes roll to the back of your head.
encouraged by his hand petting your hair, you fit more of him in your mouth.
you try to make it easier for yourself by relaxing your jaw as he pushes his hips forward slowly, but the ache slowly creeps in. the sides of your mouth starts stinging as he stretches it out and centimeters after, tears are pooling in your eyes. you don't make a sound, though, or make any indication that you wanted to stop.
you wanted to take all of suguru in your mouth, you just wished it wasn't so damn hard.
"hey, hey, baby, don't cry." suguru looked down to sneak a peek at your beautiful flustered face, only to be heartbroken when he met your teary eyed face. he was quick to wipe the falling tears as he feels his heartbeat quicken. still, he can't help but chuckle. "it's not even half way in yet." his hand unexpectedly clutched at your hair when you gasped at his statement. it took everything in him to not immediately thrust his hips into your warm mouth after that.
a shiver went up your spine when he gave you a warning glance and you hoped you were able to communicate your nonverbal apology with your eyes as effectively as he could.
"look," he started to pull away. "w-we can do just the tip first, 'til you get used to it."
he stopped thrusting then, even though it took all of his power to do so. he wanted you to set your own pace, take as much as him as you could, until like said, you get used to it, and he knows you'll get used to it, after all, you're his good girl, always eager to please. if he's being selfish, he'd say it was one of his favorite things about you.
he absolutely adores that determined sparkle in your eyes as you bob your head up and down his shaft. spit's starting to leak from the corners of your mouth and drip down your chin to your tits, but you don't pay it any mind. you have a singleminded ferocity that aims to pleasure suguru, and nothing is going to stop you, not the way the back of your throat aches from being poked roughly each and every time you go back down, not the way your cheeks and your mouth starts aching, and not the way the corners of your lips feel like they're being torn apart. after all, if they do end up getting cut, you know suguru would drive you to the hospital with a fake reason.
no one but you had to know the real reason why geto suguru wears baggy pants.
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i get: reblog
you get: a metal band shirt
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f1crecs · 4 months
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Fic Rec List - The Best of 2023
Happy New Year's Eve! Or New Year's Day, depending on where in the world you are right now. What a year it has been - for the sport and the fandom and for this blog right here.
I (Briony) started this blog in June, after a horrific bout of writer's block took away my writing skills. The only thing I love more than writing is reading, and so I decided to funnel my newly gained fandom time into cataloguing all of the wonderful things that I have read over the last few years, in the form of fic rec lists. My wonderful team of fic rec volunteers joined me at the end of October, and we have been collating the lists together ever since.
Thank you so much to everyone who follows, reblogs, likes, and comments on these lists, and an extra special thank you to everyone who shares that love with the writers themselves, in the form of comments, kudos, and bookmarks. You are amazing, and you make the fandom tick. Thank you.
Please find below the team's favourite fics of 2023! This is just like the FIA Gala, except slightly less glamorous and probably can't be used as a plot device in an F1 fanfiction.
These are the fics that really touched us - that stood out, and took our breaths away, and made us cry and laugh and curse. To these authors, and to everyone who has shared their talents with us this year - thank you.
Enjoy. And have a wonderful 2024. ❤️
Esteban/Pierre
nsfw: my thumb's on your teeth by @geluksalig | E | 14.7k @lydia-petze's favourite fic of 2023 Esteban experiences hyperrealistic dreams of a parallel life where he and Pierre have been together since they were teenagers, and neither of them race any more. He gradually becomes more and more disoriented by them as the twin realities begin to blur. This fic is so well done, with twin timelines wound together seamlessly. The grief for a life that never was, that might have been, is palpable. There are clues scattered throughout, however, that there may yet be time to fix things. Pierre's characterisation, as seen through Esteban's eyes, is wonderful - passionate and ferociously protective.
'Pierre presses his lips together, nodding though Esteban knows he is unconvinced, disbelieving. He looks off to the side, and Esteban gets that tense feeling in his gut, like he knows Pierre would claw a hole in his chest to tempt God close with the affliction, just so the rest of them might be sheltered in the shadow that falls just behind. He’s never been sure how to tell him that he doesn’t have to.'
Daniel/Max, Charles/Pierre
nsfw: hook, line, sinker by @chubbydino | M | 92k (wip) @wanderhobbit's favourite fic of 2023 Pierre wishes he could remember, Max wishes he could forget. What I enjoyed: maybe enjoyed isn’t the right word but his fic is heart wrenchingly beautiful. Following the story lines with the two couples and those story lines connecting is beautiful.
'"I love being married to you,” Max said quietly as he pulled on another curl. Daniel dropped his phone on his chest and tilted his head back to look at him. “Oh yeah?” Max’s whole body buckled at the gentleness in his tone. Daniel always knew when he was getting close to a breakdown, when fear and guilt and shame started building up like storm clouds in his head. He nodded. “Yeah. I love you.” Daniel gave him an upside-down smile. “You wanna tell me what’s going on, Max?”'
Charles/Max
nsfw: All The Lights (Couldn't Put Out The Dark) by @fabbyf1 | E | 7.5k @frickinsweet's favourite fic of 2023 Charles needs someone to help him calm down – when his usual partner is indisposed he asks Max instead. For me this fic was the definition of the "this better not awaken anything in me" meme, not so much for the particular kink but for the dynamics. I was relatively new to F1 rpf when I read this and the characterizations of both Max and Charles became the "canon" that I compared every fic to for a while. The Charles in this fic is very hard on himself, tying himself in to knots with anxiety and when he gathers up the courage to ask Max for help he is immediately in to it and never reacts negatively despite the unusal request. This is tagged as PWP (although if one reads the whole series, which I highly suggest, there is definitely plot) and the smut is very much brain meltingly hot but the reason I choose it as my favourite read of 2023 is for the way the characters and their dynamic is so perfectly described - especially Charles who is the POV and whose internal dialogue is a special treat in this fic.
'There was really only one other person he could turn to in these trying times. That’s how he ended up in Max’s room, asking him for a “favor.” “What kind of favor do you need?” Max asked, smiling so openly at him that it hurt Charles' head slightly. He was so quick to offer up his services when he didn’t even know what Charles was about to ask him'
my thoughts will echo your name by witchee_writer | M | 38.9k @blueballsracing's favourite fic of 2023 When Max retires, he decides his next accomplishment to win is Le Mans. His partners are no other than Charles Leclerc and Sebastian Vettel. I loved the cute little quips each character had and the tension! This made me smile and was an amazing rollercoaster of a fic. So much flirting and it's also a Red Bull Charles fic, which I love ❤️
'Sebastian's eyes zeroed in on Max, and then Charles. His grin widened (dangerous). 'Are you here to save me from two idiots with a decade worth of sexual tension?''
nsfw: you and me, we got big reputations by lady_something | E | 93.4k @maaxverstappen's favourite fic of 2023 After publicly coming out when Max won his 3rd championship, Charles and Max have to navigate the consequences of being together. It affects both the dynamic with their own teams and each other, and lends to issues with races in not-so-LGBT-friendly countries. I loved how realistic this was. The author really dove into the real life f1 consequences of a coming out and didn’t shy away from it. Charles and Max love each other so dearly and deeply but also love this sport just as much, and that makes for a great plot driven story. The other characters in this fic add a lot and it feels very found family. This fic had me thinking about it for days after and I was so sad to finish it as I could stay in the universe forever. One of my top fics in general, let alone for 2023! (also, this is for the rbr!charles fans (iykyk))
“So, if you are really, truly worried that we cannot handle it, then I will retire. You mean more to me than another Championship does. I have already done what I need to, I have paid back the debts I owe to my father and my family, and I have won some for me, too. It’s enough. I have the GT3 team, I have iRacing, I want to compete in the WEC. I do not need F1, not like I need you.” # “You—you—you—” Charles looks completely gobsmacked. “Oh my god. Mon Dieu. Max. Max.” Max barely manages to stop Charles from crushing the eggs as he surges forward, plastering his whole body against Max’s as he grabs his face and kisses him.
Charles/Pierre
A Two-Man Cult by @moonlight0starlighte | T | 23.7k @singsweetmelodies' favourite fic of 2023 Charles has always thought he's a beta, but then he suddenly presents as an omega after a night out with Pierre. The consequences for their friendship are devastating when Charles tries to keep this a secret from Pierre. Of course, Pierre finds out anyway, and the two of them have a massive fight - which ends in Charles going into withdrawal after what he perceived as a rejection from his alpha. This fic redefines "angst with a happy ending" - but it is so worthwhile when they finally do get to the happy ending. I love this fic for a variety of reasons, the fantastic angst-with-a-happy-ending slow-burn friends-to-lovers of it all being a big one of them. But more than that, I remember reading this one chapter-by-chapter as it came out, and being so unbelievably hooked, texting everyone about the next update. The writing style is just so engaging, and the story the author tells is so gripping, intense and wonderful. It will also always hold a special place in my heart, because it's the first proper a/b/o fic I read, and probably the fic that got me hooked on the genre. It truly is a masterpiece in so many ways. &lt;3
"What are you thinking?" Pierre's lids flutter closed and he sinks into the warmth of Charles' hands as he brings it to his cheek, lips pressed against warm skin as he answers, "I just can't believe I get to have this."
nsfw: chassis by @hourcat | E | 50.7k @welightitup's favourite fic of 2023 Charles is a part-time art professor/part-time kindergarten teacher with car issues. Pierre is a mechanic. It’s an amazing AU, one I don’t think that had been done before. But wow, it’s so hot too! Expect tension, teasing, flirting, and hot garage/car sex.
'Charles is special, anyway. It’s not even a question. He’s different from anyone Pierre has met in his ten years here, and Pierre really does like him more than he probably should, for someone he really doesn’t know at all. He teaches kindergarten and is passionate about it. He’s got a decent apartment, although he hasn’t seen much of it outside of the bedroom. He’s got shit taste in cars. But somehow, deeper, Pierre feels like he knows him.'
Carlos/Charles
nsfw: my blood is singing with your voice (the saints can't help me now) by @7msc | E | 13.2k @boxboxbrioche's favourite fic of 2023 Carlos meets Charles in a half-finished church. I have already rec'ed this one before, but I just had to share it again for the 2023 roundup. This story truly moved me. It is ethereal and lyrical and I still remember it so clearly, even though it's been months since I read it for the first time. Simply gorgeous.
'He felt like he was cheating. Was he? Well, a church was any place where he could feel God. And he felt God in Mallorca. In Costa dels Pins. In Son Servera. (In his mom’s loving hands. In Blanca’s kind brown eyes, the same shade as his. In Ana’s conniving smile. In his father’s heavy arm across his shoulders. In his grandma’s thin fingers, hands almost too delicate, wrapped around his.)'
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isa-ghost · 1 month
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isa my bestie. do u have any tallulah and phil headcanons
Always famsquad
Other qPhil headcanons
Take one look at this man and tell me with your whole chest he's confident. NO HE IS NOT. He gets so insecure about being a good adoptive dad for her. He internalizes the full extent of it but oh my god is he terrified she thinks he loves her less than Chayanne or only took her in out of obligation or isn't good enough for her in general
She makes him laugh SO MUCH. Her dramatics, her comedic timing, the Mexican culture things/memes she shares with him once in a while. Even when she doesn't intend to, she makes him laugh so often. Genuinely she makes The Horrors more bearable for him.
He hates not being great at words bc he feels like he isn't the best advocate for her that he could be. Example: when she was wary of the new eggs. He didn't know how to vouch for her beyond reassurances she'd come around. He wishes he could've articulated himself better bc he Understands her but can't put it into words to other people to the degree he'd like to.
He will literally never look at flowers the same way again. Tallulah literally overwrote his association of them with Rose. Now his first thought is "peepoHappy Tallulah!!" Instead of Rose. Rose is now second.
Tallulah genuinely brings out a gentler side to him. This man is hardened by survival and bloodshed and at least one death in his past. He's a bit closed off and suspicious out of second nature. She brings him out of that shell so easily, he doesn't even realize it's happening.
She can see right through his bullshit and it's so fucking funny. "I'm doing fine m8" and she's just like "[cocks gun] Doubt. Bitch. Try again." She WILL cure this man of his emotional constipation.
I firmly believe she'll be the one to motivate Phil to finally build smth on a Hardcore Project scale one day. Somehow. He'd do it for her.
If he ever says he doesn't like when she acts like a little shit, don't listen to him. He's lying through his teeth. Tallulah being a little shit amuses him endlessly.
Tallulah doesn't swear a Ton, at least not as often as he does. He wishes she did, bc whenever she does it's super funny and usually perfectly timed.
Her wing hugs mean the fucking world to him they make him so ;-; every time
Tallulah has somewhat adopted Phil's over-caution. She's a bit more traumatized by The Nightmare than Chayanne is. The "abuel" sign haunts her
Phil will sing stupid songs along to her flute until she hits him for his goofy nonsense lyrics
Speaking of her flute, her playing Sweden unironically gives him nostalgia and kinda soothes his nerves. It's like his cue of "the kids are okay, they're safe and happy." The first time he heard it again after Purgatory & the eggs' recovery, he cried a little (I'm projecting)
One of the reasons he was most salty about The Reset was because it meant they can't go to Tallulah's botanical garden, her farm in the wall, or any of her other cool builds
Phil found her the purple striped hat she has in Phil's chat emote. She has it fr so she can be Just Like Papa :D
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tinandabin · 2 years
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Another gen z reader pls!
YOUR WISH IS MY COMMAND.
Yandere Muzan x Gen Z! Reader.
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Also, this will contain TRIGGERING THEMES!! It could be anything, like mentions of murder, blood, obsession, anything yandere related. Basically dark content, so if you are NOT comfortable with such stuff, please do not read this post!
Okay, so before we start this shit, just know that Muzan here is kind of gonna be like, only good to you and shit.
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"My love, I'm back-" Muzan announced as he started taking off his coat like they did in those 90s shit. Or not. God, my memory is fucking shit. That does not matter, for the only goal in your mind at the moment is to find a excuse to get away from this ugly orange of a demon.
"Oh no, I forgot to water my baguettes! I am so sorry, I must take my leave right now!" Just as you said that, your baguettes in the background screamed, "Hydrate us, [Name]!"
I can't even properly tell you how hard Muzan face palmed at your so stupid attempts to try and escape his affection??? And he doesn't even wanna know who you bribed to wear baguette costumes and say to hydrate them.. What did you even bribe them with???
One of them was probably Enmu.
Muzan, himself doesn't know why the fuck he finds you so amusing. It's probably because you are like, literally playing with your life. Literally.
Evidence is the time when you once tried drinking bleach because first, it looked tasty, and second, you wanted to know what bleach tastes like.
And my God, it did not taste as good as it looked like! IT WAS A SCAM. No one ever scammed you this hard. It tasted like extremely concentrated swimming pool water.
Oh that reminds you of the time when you drank swimming pool water-
And in the Taisho Era, there is no shit like fanfics or memes so Muzan can more than often find random drawings...which are memes but his boomer brain can't process what's so funny about it. Like, talking croissants are funny- no, not the ones you find on Kids YT.
But as I said there are no fanfics, and my goodness do you love reading, proof is of you reading this. So let's hope you like reading books too.
No fanfics. What can you do? Probably read Shakespeare. I'm bullshitting my way through this, please deal with it.
Of course, after reading Shakespeare your grammar and vocabulary got a lot better! Which Muzan liked, a lot.
But,,,,, you being you, now even have more ways to insult Muzan. Like,
Thou base decayed ingested-lump!
Thou perfidious weather-bitten writhled shrimp!
Thou fawning fool-born filthy rogue!
And you could go on and on, but let Muzan have a break.
It's so funny to the uppermoons, especially Douma, when Muzan is just 'scolding' them by 'gently' smashing there heads in and you come in and go, "Awww, mama duckling scolding her ducklings..." As you pretend to make a video with your phone which you don't have because Muzan broke it because he's an asshole.
And as soon as you come in, somehow all the blood disappears and everything is normal as he kisses your forehead and asks, "What are you doing here, darling, did I not tell you to not leave your room?"
Everyone present could feel the temperature drop when Muzan said that, and that was not a good sign.
"YOU AREN'T MY MOM." As soon as you said that, you ran away faster than light because you are....idk. You were able to run away mostly because Muzan let you, but trust me when I say that he wasn't angry at you, more so at the demons who he kept at your room's door to prevent you from leaving the room.
And those poor, poor demons who were now begging for their lives as Muzan glared at them, "I gave you one job, one job.."
That's just when you had to again come in, "CUT!" You yelled, "Do it again, but this time, with more feelings." The demons and Muzan nodded, "ACTION!" You said as the scene started again, this time, with more feeling.
One time you just pointed at one ugly demon and said, "This does not spark joy," Muzan killed it. And then after seeing what Muzan did to the ones you said that to, "This does not spark joy," you said to Muzan. Pointing at him.
And after that, he was seen sulking the whole day because he thinks you hate him, which you do. I hope. I don't know.
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MASTERLIST
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mellowcremepuff · 7 months
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Thinking about f/o’s who feel insecure about their size, and how you’d help relieve their fears…
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Content: NSFT, penetration, gender neutral reader, ‘they/them’ used for f/o, light breeding kink, light possessiveness, wholesomeness, average/small cock appreciation, you and your f/o just being in love
Word Count: 1745
Minors and proship DNI
This is my first post!! I hope you like it :] shout out to @rowarn and @werecreature-addicted, your writing inspired me to start posting my own!!
nsft under the cut ❤︎₊ ⊹
Shy and reserved f/o’s who take it as just another knock to their self esteem. They take ‘small dick energy’ memes to heart, poor things. They just wish they could be better for you. They never really cared about the size of their dick before, but they want to make you feel good and oh god, what if it’s not enough? What if they’re too small for you?
Self-assured and tough f/o’s who feel like it’s a failure on their part. When they’re trying to jack off they get a jolt of anxiety in their chest that ruins the mood. They’re so stocky and tall and strong, they feel as though they should be packing a monster cock. They’re scared you’ll laugh at them because their cock doesn’t match their overall size. Yeah… it takes a bigger toll on them than they’d care to admit.
And you know what? Their cock isn’t even small, (and even if it was, you’d still adore it!) it’s a wonderful 4 or 5 inches. More than enough to make you feel good and hit all the right spots. More than enough to make you squirm and feel so full. More than enough to feel it twitch inside you as they fill you so deep with their cum…
You’d be so shocked when you found out how insecure they feel. What do they mean? Their cock is perfect!! Perfect in general, but especially for you!!
“…Am I too small for you?” Your f/o just straight up asked you. It was so out of the blue that you struggled to form a response. Your answer came out in a frantic exclamation.
“What?? Of course you’re not! Don’t say things like that!!”
There was an apologetic flash in their eyes.
“Sorry…” they fiddled with their hands, feeling so stupid for even bringing it up. “I just can’t help worrying sometimes.”
You move closer, bringing one hand up to caress their cheek.
“Hey… you know I love you right?” You say softly. They nod, closing their eyes and leaning into your touch. “Well I love everything about you. And I mean everything. Nothing about you is too much or not enough. Especially your size.”
They open their eyes but don’t look at you, instead keeping their gaze downwards.
“I love you…” they mumble sadly, bringing your hand to their mouth to kiss your palm. You melt a little at the gesture, and bring your free hand up to rub their arm reassuringly.
“You know it’d be painful if it was too big, right?” You say.
They nod, though still refuse to meet your gaze. Inside their head however, their perspective was starting to shift. They would never want to hurt you… that would be even worse than not being big enough.
“If a penis is too big, it can make certain positions and even going too fast impossible.”
Your f/o pauses.
“…I didn’t know that…”
“Here, hang on.”
You turn and walk away with a purposeful step, and your f/o tilts their head in confusion as to what you could possibly be doing. You rummage around in the cupboards and draws for a short while, before triumphantly reappearing with a tape measure held aloft.
Your f/o’s breath hitches, a million things racing through their mind.
You fiddle with the tape measure as you make your way back over to them. By the time you reach them, the tape measure is pulled to 8 inches
“Look.” You say, one hand on your hip, the other holding the yellow metal strip up between you and your f/o.
Their heart began to sink. You would need both hands and your mouth to pleasure a cock that big. They couldn’t help but start to feel inadequate again.
It hurt like hell. They hated it…
“Look at this. Where is this going??” You held the tape measure diagonally against your cheek and neck. “Not in here!”
Your f/o couldn’t help but snort-laugh at your comical display. The sudden burst of laughter felt good, and they felt the insecurity inside them start to dissipate as quickly as it had appeared.
The more they examined the scene in front of them, the more they agreed. That length would make you choke- in an uncomfy way, not a sexy way.
You resize the tape measure, down to 4 inches.
“Now look,” you hold the tape measure up to your cheek again. Even outside of your mouth it seems a much better fit. “See?”
Your f/o shifts, dirty thoughts racing in their mind.
“Okay…” they say, their cheeks growing hot. “Yeah, I see… I’m sorry…”
Your face falls, and you move to cup their cheeks in both hands, discarding the tape measure to the ground.
“Hey… don’t be sorry. You have nothing to be sorry for,” You hold your breath a little. “I understand feeling insecure about… this kind of stuff…”
Your f/o’s heart skips.
“What? But you’re gorgeous! I wouldn’t change you or your body for the world! I don’t want anyone who isn’t you!”
They’re a little offended on your behalf. How dare you say such things about yourself! Can’t you see how wonderful you are? They’re so in love with you, and so attracted to you! You’re cute and gorgeous and sexy and funny and every good descriptor ever!
You chuckle a little, placing a kiss on their lips.
“That’s how I feel about you, silly.”
…..Ah.
Your f/o feels like they could die of happiness right there. God, what did they do to deserve you?
“You’re always good enough for me. You and your cock…”
You both can’t help but bust out laughing at the immaturity of that last part, but the loving sentiment is still very much there.
Your f/o is okay now, but they just want to fall on top of you and be held forever. Their mind is so tired, but they’re so so lucky to have you. They pull you into a hug, nuzzling their face against your neck.
“If I was bigger, you wouldn’t be able to take me in your mouth…” they mumble, as if saying the facts out loud will cement them in their head. “An' going fast would hurt.”
You wiggle a little, and they pull their face away from your neck. You place a hand on the back of theirs, and lean in close to their ear with a smirk.
“You wouldn’t be able to go balls deep either.” You say in a half-whisper.
You feel them tense, and hear them audibly gulp.
“Imagine that.” You continue. “Never being able to feel my legs wrapped around your waist, or slam your hips into me from behind. You wouldn’t want that, right?”
They were perfect.
They were always enough.
You weren’t going to let them forget.
And if you had to get them addicted to the feeling of your tight hole around them to make them remember it, you would.
As quickly as the conversation began you were naked on your bed, nails digging into skin and your f/o’s cock filling you up so good, pumping into you at a delicious pace. They practically had you in a mating press, caging you in under their arms and looking down at you with a glint in their eyes you’d never seen before.
They would pull out just enough to tease you with the feeling of emptiness, before slamming forwards and bottoming out inside you over and over. They kept angling just right to hit that sweet spot, and every moan and whimper just made them harder.
Nothing existed in that moment except the two of you. You were both drunk on each other, and you wouldn’t change it for the world. You wanted to fuck each other stupid and fall asleep holding each other. Together forever, so safe and so loved.
“See?” Your voice was weak as you caressed the back of their neck, pulling them into you. “Feel how you’re balls deep inside me right now? If you were bigger you wouldn’t be able to do this. We couldn’t be as close as we are right now.”
Your breath hitches as you feel them twitch inside you. You let out a moan, bucking up into them. The sensation elicits a growl from your f/o, a growl that sends tingles through your entire body.
“You’re not too small, okay? You’re good enough.” Your next words come out in a breathy giggle. “You and your cock are more than good enough. I love being able to take all of you. I love you.”
You do. You love them so much, and you’ll never stand for them talking badly about themselves. Not ever.
“Fuck…” your f/o growls against your neck, sucking and nibbling on your delicate skin. They were gonna mark you, so everyone knew you were their partner. No one else could have you like this. “Fucking love you… I love you so much.”
Their pace started to get sloppier as your highs both approached.
“I make you feel so full, right? I stretch you out and hit all the right places, huh?” Your f/o tugged on your hair to make sure you were definitely paying attention. You could only respond in fucked-out whimpers.
“Y-yeah… fuck… you do, baby. ‘Y fill me up so good..”
“Fuck yeah I do… gonna make you addicted to my cock…”
You gripped their shoulders tightly as your eyes began to glaze over.
“I already am… oh, fuck, I don’t want anyone else, ever. I only want you…”
“Me too…”
Your f/o grips your hips and bites down hard where your neck meets your shoulder. The sensation makes you gasp, and you feel their smirk against your skin.
“Fill me…” you begged. “Fill me up with your cum, please.”
“Yeah… yeah, I’m gonna fill you, sweetheart. Take it… take all of it. Fuck, I’m gonna- gonna cum-! T-together… Cum with me, please-!”
Your orgasms felt like they lasted for an eternity. Sweet, pulsing bliss and cloudy minds, guttural moans and squeezing muscles. In the afterglow, you snuggled as close as you could get to each other, each trying so desperately to catch your breath.
“Shit…” your f/o growled, leaning up to place a kiss on your forehead. “I love you…“
You smiled, feeling so fucked-out and blissful and in love. So full of love.
“I love you too.”
❤︎₊ ⊹
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