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#i have to start on the other prompts help
ssahotchnerr · 15 hours
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i rlly wanna see how aaron would react to reader accidentally starting her period and leaking on his white sheets. i just know he would be so caring and conforming !!
stains
he soooo would cw; fem!reader, period talk, blood mentions, language, fluff <33
Even on the weekends, Aaron doesn't tend to stray from routine.
Apart from setting an alarm - he presses a kiss to the first patch of your skin he can find, rolls out of bed, and then opens the blinds so the morning light can naturally assist in waking you. Trailing into the en-suite bathroom, he hears you let out a gentle squeak, stretching from your laid position in bed.
He preps his toothbrush, blinking once, twice, in attempt to rid the heavy sleep from his eyes. Brushing his teeth is number one on his morning agenda; not only because it was the hygienic thing to do, he simply could not stand having horrid breath.
Despite the brushing sounds echoing in his head, he doesn't miss your low,
"Shit."
"Honey?" His attempt to speak was muffled, as his toothbrush was in his mouth. He tilted back from the sink, just enough to allow him to peer into the room, to see you.
You were sat upright, a handful of sheets in hand, meeting his eyes guilt-stricken. "I'm sorry. It wasn't due for another three days and you know I'm typically always on schedule and always prepared-"
"Hm?" Freeing his mouth from the toothpaste, quickly flicking the water on/off to rid the residue and wiping his mouth with a washcloth, he re-entered his room.
As he came closer, your flushed cheeks were vividly noticeable, the remorse in your eyes even more intense. You clarified, "My period."
"Oh," his expression softened, before alternating to deep concern. "Are you alright?"
"Am I alright? Aaron your bed-"
"What about it?"
"It's stained - the sheets. Fuck," you scrambled up, not wanting to ruin them further, wincing in pain as you did so. You quickly padded past him to the bathroom, the plush carpet soft under your bare feet. He followed behind.
"And? Sweetheart if you think I care about that," he chuckled, sweetly shaking his head. "Do you have...?"
"In my bag."
Feminine products - Aaron redirected himself, finding your overnight duffle tossed hastily near the foot of his dresser. As he rummaged through it, he mentally cursed himself for not already having a supply waiting under his sink, and mentally added such to his future shopping list.
He grabbed the other necessities - an extra pair of underwear, t-shirt, opting to grab your favorite pair of shorts from his drawer. One he hadn't worn in quite a while as you had claimed sole ownership.
You sheepishly accepted the items from him, refraining from lifting your gaze. "Thank you."
"Hey," With a finger he lifted your chin, causing you to meet his soft, brown eyes. "It's okay."
You shook your head in shame, prompting his hand to fall.
"It's your body. It's natural. It's- this is not an inconvenience to me, it is for you. Plus, this is exactly what they invented stain remover for."
Despite yourself you laughed, wrapping your arms around your middle. "I suppose."
The ends of Aaron's lips itched upwards, successful in his goal to crack a smile. Although, his amusement sobered back to concern, "You never answered my question from before. Are you alright?"
You grimaced. "Crampy."
"Advil then?" Aaron asked and you nodded. He placed his hand on your lower abdomen soothingly, the warmth of it calming your tensed muscle. That was the thing about his touch, it never failed to relieve any aches or discomfort, physical and emotional. "And a bath? I recall you saying that helps, with easing the pain."
"Please."
He quickly obtained the pain reliever, started the bath. "Don't worry about the sheets, I'll strip and get 'em in the wash. Hand me your clothes too." He ran his hand under the stream of water, regulating the temperature as you immediately began to protest, claiming, 'it was your mess, your doing,' but Aaron kindly shut you down, "Nope. Let me handle it, I insist."
"And if the stain doesn't come out?"
"I've been meaning to dispose of them anyway. They're getting old, they've fulfilled their job well." After flashing you a sympathetic smile Aaron stood, his age vaguely showing when his knees cracked as his legs straightened. He placed a kiss on your forehead, hoping to dissolve your current, growing pout. "Just relax."
You willingly met his eyes this time. You tousled his hair, still disheveled from sleep, paying extra attention to the short hairs behind his ears. Your nails scratched at his scalp, expressing your gratitude silently.
"And if it makes you feel any better, this isn't the first time I've had to soak blood from linens."
"It doesn't," you rolled your eyes at his injury-prone occupation, but he did however manage to pull yet another smile from you. A gentle laugh came from deep within his chest at your response. "But thank you."
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shootingstar-scuderia · 14 hours
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shoot an arrow through my heart
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max verstappen x reader
there's something you need to hear max say, but you're not sure if he's actually going to say it. you do know one thing though, it was always gonna be you and max.
a/n: started this longer ago than i'd like to admit but here we are! a big thank you to my fave beta reader K and to @scuderiahoney who helped me figure out all the banner image stuff. based on prompt #966 from this list.
masterlist
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It starts with Lando. Because doesn’t it always? 
Lando says shit he doesn’t mean, Lando says things just for the sake of saying them. Lando says things as if they are fundamentally truths when they are in fact are lies.
And so, one moment you’re hanging out with Lando, letting him talk you down from buying the little trinket of the week you’ve fixated on, and the next he’s saying that Max is in love with you, saying it like it’s a truth, and then moving on as if he hasn’t just tilted your world on its axis.
And then, before you know it, you’re banging on Max’s front door trying to figure out if it’s true or not. 
Trying to figure out if your best friend is in love with you.
“Max! Open the door.”
He doesn’t.
You honestly don’t know if you want him to, or what you’re going to do when he does. Or if he even will, Max doesn’t know you’re here and you don’t even know if he’s home.
You’re just about ready to search for the spare key, the one you told him to hide in the firehose down the hallway because having a fake rock in front of his door makes no sense when he lives in an apartment building, when the door is flung open and a very grumpy looking Max, headset in hand, is giving you just about the most fed-up, unimpressed, stare you’ve seen in your life.
“Are you in love with me?” You can’t help it, the words foreign on your tongue but there’s an urgency to get them out and into the space in between you. You’re so desperate to hear him say it back.
Max blinks at you, bewildered at your words. You can see the gears turning in his head trying to work out what you just said and if you’re being honest you don’t know if you should be offended at the fact that the answer isn’t an immediate yes.
His brow furrows and his lips purse, “what?”
A beat passes, and then another, and then the idiot actually has the audacity to close the door.
You roll your eyes, even if he can’t see it you know that he knows that you’re doing it. As you push the exasperation out of your lungs you knock again.
“Max, nuh-uh, that is not going to work, open the door and answer my question.”
Nothing.
You bang your fist on the door one more time for good measure, “Max, you know I know where your spare key is and we both know that I’ll let myself in if necessary.”
It’s true and he knows it. 
There have been many nights where you’ve verged on the edge of too far gone and walked from the club to his apartment. Nights where you didn’t want the fun to end so instead of going home you go to Max’s where you can cuddle and coo at Jimmy and Sassy and sit around in comfy clothes and watch as Max putters around doing whatever it was he was doing before you came over.
It’s true. He knows it. But still, he doesn’t open the door.
You sigh and softly thump your forehead against Max’s front door, through the absence of your knocking you can hear his nervous shuffling on the other side. The inquisitive meows from the cats, the faint scrape of the peephole cover as Max checks to see if you’re still there, if you’re still waiting for him. 
You would wait for him for forever, but that’s just for you to know really.
Max opens the door again, just the barest amount. Just enough so his eyes, wide and disbelieving can lock onto yours. 
They’re so blue, you don’t know how you never noticed it before, so classically storybook blue that you’re really starting to wonder if this is all some kind of weird dream where you’re standing at his doorstep begging to be loved by him, like some kind of cheesy romcom star. Because after all, aren’t you just a girl standing in front of a guy?
“You’re in love with me.”
The words stretch the impossible distance between the two of you. Even when he’s halfway around the globe he’s never felt this far away.
And still, somehow, you feel too close to him. Like somehow all the other versions of you and him have been false proxies to what you’re reaching for right now. Like all of a sudden, somehow, he’s been molded into your every contour of your soul and you don’t want anything else
The door edges open a little wider.
“Are you asking me that or are you telling me?”
He’s stalling, you both know it. But, you can’t really bring yourself to do more than give him a fondly smile and roll your eyes at him. Because you know, if the roles were reversed, if he was the one throwing pebbles like some kind of suave Dutch romeo, demanding to know if you were in love with him, you would be doing the same thing.
“You and I both know how much you like being told what to do.” With a sigh Max opens the door to his apartment a little wider once more to let you in, “and yet, you’re still here telling me to open my door.”
You can’t really fault him for that one can you?
You make your way to the living room where you settle down on your spot on the couch while Max flits around the living room. Sassy is meowing at Max, desperate for a taste of the outside she only ever gets when the front door opens, and even though he knows she’s not going to make a run for it he still takes the time to half-heartedly shoo her away.
Max does this, dragging his feet, until both of the cats have curled up next to you on the couch and it is only then that he makes his way over to you. Coming to stand behind the armrest on his side of the couch, putting a little too much distance between the two of you for you to not feel spurned by him.
You can hear it in silence between you, you can feel it in the way your body seems to ache from having him in the ways you have him now and not in the ways you want to have him.
You’re not ready to have this conversation.
There’s a part of you that almost wants to say nevermind and forget that you even said anything in the first place. But deep down you know that the two of you have been putting on this elaborate dog and pony show for far too long. You’re only delaying the inevitable.
“So,” you say, nervously running your fingers over the fabric of the couch. “Is it true?”
You try to catch his eye as you say it, not only to try to make sure he doesn't chicken out but to see the reaction he gives. You want to see his soul and know that he means whatever he says.
But Max doges your gaze at every move in a way that makes him look like a kicked puppy. And you’re not really sure what it means but you can feel the way the dynamic has shifted. All of a sudden the two of you are on shaky ground, not sure where you stand with each other. Even though two hours earlier you would have called him your best friend with your entire heart.
“Well?”
“Please,” he says your name, strained and with a weight to it that you don’t quite want to acknowledge, “don’t make me say it.”
You’re not above begging, you really aren’t, but something about the way he sounds makes you falter. Just a little.
“Max,” you say his name softly, “I think you and I both know what your answer is going to be.”
“Then why do you need to hear it so bad?” His words bite, tinged with an anger that you know he doesn't really mean. “So, I can say it back!” Your words match the sharpness in his and you can see how much they throw Max off kilter.
He blinks at you and then rocks on his feet, first a step forward and then a step back like he’s blown away by the force of what you said. “Oh.”
“Yeah.”
“Why did you never tell me?”
You cross your arms and shrug your shoulders, “it was a personal issue.”
“You being in love with me kind of also involves me.” 
You really don’t want to admit that he’s right on with that one.
You huff and shrug your shoulders again, “well it goes both ways, why didn’t you say anything?”
“I asked first,” Max shoots back.
You groan at his response and launch yourself up towards Max in a play attempt to strangle him. “Argh, you’re so!” You drape your arms over his shoulders as you slump against him, head resting in the spot where his shoulder meets his neck, “God I hate you.”
Max laughs underneath you, his arms coming up to wrap around your waist, “you evidently don’t.”
“You're so silly,” you sigh, tilting your head up to look at him. "You want to hear me say it so bad."
Your nose nearly brushes against his, he’s so close you think you could count every single one of his eyelashes if you tried.
Max makes a noise that’s somewhere between exasperated and surprised and you know that you’re toeing the line with your teasing
You always know when to give in when it comes to him.
“Okay, yes, I love you! I love you,” you say, “do you love me?”
“Yeah, I do,” Max says as he moves to cradles your jaw in his hands. “I love you.”
You grin, “good. Now kiss me please.”
And he does. He does and it feels like all the cliche things people say. It feels like coming home, it feels like fireworks are going off in the background, it feels like you were meant to be, that he was made for you just as much as you were made for him.
And you just know. You know that there can never be anyone else but him. That there was a version of you before Max and now there’s going to be a version of you that’s with Max, but there’s never going to be a you after Max.
“I love you.” Softer, quieter this time.
You don’t dare look him in the eye, instead choosing to press your cheek against his and stare out the window of his apartment. Your gaze settles somewhere in the distance as you try to memorize the feel of his body pressed up against yours.
You curl your fingers around the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging absentmindedly as you say, “I’m glad that worked out, I didn’t even know you were home.”
He pulls away from you to fix you with a look that is so quintessentially Max, “you have my location on your phone, you’re always stalking me,” he says, punctuating his words with little jabs to your shoulder.
It’s true, and you honestly don’t know why you didn’t try to check his location in the first place, your logic getting lost somewhere in the panic of knowing that he loved you. 
“Mhmm.” You shrug noncommittally, trying very hard to ignore the rushing feeling of warmth in your chest that comes with the realization that Max was so ingrained in your life and you in his from the start. 
You try not to think about the fact your toothbrush sits next to his in his bathroom, about the fact that your hand automatically gravitates to his favorite spoon in your cutlery drawer, the one you can identify solely based on the weight of it in your hand. You try very hard to think about how you couldn’t separate the love from the friendship.
It was always gonna be you and Max. 
There’s a silence between you for a moment. You try to match your breath to his and let the sounds of outside filter through your ears. And for a moment you can hear how the rest of the world keeps turning, even when your world has stopped spinning on its axis.
“So, what now?” Max asks, turning his head to press kisses to your hairline, his hand squeezing your waist. You can feel his nose brush against your temple as he makes his way down, lips featherlight on your skin. The intimacy of it makes your blood sing with electricity. 
You pull “Mhmm, you could take me to bed?”
It’s half serious, half a joke. You’ve waited so long to have Max like this that now that you finally do you want him in all ways possible. But still, there’s some young and girlish part of you that wants it to be special.
Max pretends to think about it for a little bit and it’s so impossibly silly that you have to resist the urge to strangle him again for it, “it’s three in the afternoon, I think it’s a little early for sleep.”
“You know that’s not what I mean, stop being a smartass.”
Max smiles, taking your hand in his and lacing your fingers together. “Well,” he says, “how about I send you home so you can get all nice and pretty for me and then I’ll come pick you up and take you to a nice dinner, hmm?”
You flush, not just from the way he pours honey, slow and sweet, into your ear, but from the way it feels like this was always meant to be. Like you were always meant to have this, always meant to have him. 
“And then,” he says, dropping your hand to pull you in by your belt loops so your hips are press flush against his, “after dinner, that’s when I’ll take you to bed.”
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kingkaizen · 18 hours
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𝓻𝓸𝓾𝓰𝓱𝓮𝓻
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∘ desc: although things are going great with your boyfriend nanami, sometimes you think he's too nice in bed. who better to ask for some pointers than from nanami's opposite, gojo satoru <3
∘ ft: nanami & gojo
∘ word count: 2.7k
∘ includes: voyeurism, threesome, pussy slaps, spanking, face fucking, edging, dacryphilia, dirty talk
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Nanami is the best boyfriend that you’ve ever had.
No matter everything that you’ve been through together in the last three years, nothing has ever made you doubt the amount of love you had for each other. You absolutely adored everything about him. After being friends for years before getting together, it wasn’t hard to fall so deeply in love with the man that he’s become. Being able to come home to him is everything that you’ve ever wanted and more.
But, of course, all relationships come with their issues.
When Nanami received a message from you saying that you had to talk, his heart immediately dropped. What could he have done wrong? Was today a special day that he forgot about? Did he accidentally leave the toilet seat up? What could possibly be it? He rushed home from work, unlocking the front door to see you sitting on the couch.
“Is everything okay?” Nanami questioned, slipping his shoes off and placing them neatly on the floor along with pinning his coat on the rack. “Your text worried me.”
“No, Kento. Everything is fine, I promise, come sit with me.” You gestured to the cushion next to yours, trying to keep him calm. You knew that texting him like that would elicit this concerned reaction, but what you’re about to say could not be said through a simple text message.
“Kento, when I say this to you, I need you to know that I love you so much and you are an amazing boyfriend okay?” Nanami nods his head slightly, eyebrows slowly coming together in complete anticipation of what’s about to come out of your mouth.
“I want you to start being rougher with me in bed.”
Finally coming out and saying it, you felt like a weight being lifted off of your chest. Nanami always treats you like glass, in and out of the bedroom. Although you love how gentle and loving he is with you, you need something more. You can’t help but think back to all of the times that he would come back home from work, irritated about something that happened. How good it would feel for him to take out those emotions on you. But, knowing your sweet boyfriend, that thought would never cross his mind. 
“Am I not satisfying you enough? I thought you enjoyed our intimate moments together…” Nanami responds, his brain thinking back to every single night you’ve spent together in the past. Why hasn’t he seen this before? Knowing that he hasn’t been satisfying you in the way that he thought hurt him much more than he was willing to admit right away.
“No, that’s not it at all. You know that you always make me feel good. I just want to change things up a bit, that’s all.” You placed an encouraging hand on his thigh, prompting him to look up at you. “I know you, Kento, don’t think too much into it. I love every moment that we have together, I just want us to try something different, that’s all.”
Nanami took in all of your words, making a pact to himself that he will change things for the better. He understands what you want, he’s just not sure how to fully give that to you. How he is in bed is exactly the way he is outside of that: sweet, loving, and overall just concerned. He would never forgive himself for hurting you in any capacity, so living up to your request will be a challenge for him. Who better to ask than his complete opposite in every single way?
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“She wants you, Nanami Kento, to be rough?” Gojo almost can’t help but laugh at the thought. It’s not laughable because Nanami doesn’t have a rough side to him, Gojo of all people would know how it feels to be on the opposite end of that. The funny part is that he can’t imagine him being rough towards you. Even from an outsider looking into your relationship, anyone could see how he treats you.
“I didn’t tell you this so that you could laugh at me, Satoru, I’m asking for your help.” This request from Nanami also humored Gojo. Finally, after all of these years, Nanami is actually voluntarily asking for his help.
“How exactly do you expect me to help you? Do you need me to demonstrate?” Gojo laughed as he said this, waiting for Nanami to show some sort of disagreement in his face.
That look never came.
“That is actually exactly what I want you to do. I know the type of history that you two have, I’m not an idiot. All of these years since we’ve all been friends before we started dating, I would see the way you would look at each other. I know that there is chemistry there and I wouldn’t be surprised if you have been intimate before.” Nanami looked at Gojo, seriousness etched across his face. “I want you to show me how to treat her the way that she wants to be, I only want her to be happy.” As much as Nanami hates to admit when Gojo is better than him in any sort of way, he knows the truth when it comes to this. He sees how other women have fawned over him, and it must be for good reason.
“I’ll teach you how to fuck her like a slut.”
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The sight of two shirtless men is enough to excite anyone. After telling Nanami what was on your mind, this is the last thing that you expected him to do. Of course he brought this up to you before this moment, always wanting to ensure your comfort. It was hard to disagree, you’ve been with Gojo years prior but it was never anything serious. Always flings, Gojo was never the “relationship type”. 
“So gorgeous, my love.” Nanami always admired how ethereal you looked, both in and out the bedroom. He caressed your face, planting soft yet firm kisses on your lips, growing more and more passionate by the second. Gojo was sitting on the chair in the corner of the room, watching with an intense gaze. You would think that having another man watching the two of you would freak you out, but it weirdly turned you on. Gently, as always, Nanami laid you down on the mattress, fingers finding their way to your covered breasts, exposing them to his hungry mouth. After moving the fabric, his lips puckered around your nipple, tongue pushing on the hardened nub as you ran your fingers through his hair.
“Kento, I need you so bad.” You whimpered, the impatient side of you coming out already. You know Nanami, you know that it doesn’t take much begging to get what you want. You know how bad he wants you too, he can’t help but fully oblige to every word you say.
“I know honey, I’m going to give it to you.” Nanami had no self control when it came to you. Gojo rolls his eyes in the corner, finally making his presence known.
“Nanami, you can’t let her talk to you like that.” Gojo slowly began to touch his growing bulge through his pants. “It’s like you already forgot everything I told you.” He stood up and walked towards the two of you, Nanami moving to the side. Gojo gently gripped your chin, turning your head to look him dead in his eyes.
“If you want something from him, you’re going to have to earn it.”
You nodded your head, his authoritative tone sending a wave of pleasure throughout your body. Following his discrete directions, you kneeled in front of your boyfriend, fingers playfully toying with the zipper in his pants as you pulled it down along with the rest of it. You kissed his hard length through the last piece of fabric still left on his body, looking up at him through your lashes.
“D-Don’t tease me like that, (y/n)”. Nanami loved this obedient side of you, even if he wasn’t the reason you were acting this way. Before he could even process, Gojo lightly tapped the side of your ass, sending a slight sting throughout your body.
“Tease him like that again and you’re gonna have to make yourself cum. Now say sorry.” Gojo threatened, backing away once again to see how this unfolds. By now, he has fully released himself from the confines of his pants, fingers wrapping around his girth as he slowly began to pleasure himself at the sight.
“I’m sorry.” You looked up at Nanami once more, pulling away the last piece of clothing separating your awaiting mouth from his leaking tip. 
“I’m sorry what?” Gojo sneered.
“I’m sorry sir.” Your pleading voice made Nanami groan, watching as you finally began to wrap your lips around the tip of his cock. You began to put your tongue to work, swirling it around his head while keeping your lips firmly around the top, sucking in. Nanami could tell that you were still in a teasing mood, refusing to go any lower than that. Suddenly, you could feel his hand find its way to the back of your head, forcing you to let more of him in. Nanami would never do something like this normally, his forcefulness with you turning you on tremendously. Gojo laughed, approving of Nanami’s sudden confidence boost. It’s arousing to him too, watching you take all of him so deep in your mouth, gagging on his length as he throws his head back.
“That’s it, take it all.” Nanami grunts, “I love how messy you look, choking on me like that.” He could feel you moan around his length at his words, thighs rubbing together in anticipation of what’s to come. “I know how wet you are already, if you want some help you have to ask for it okay?” 
No matter what, Nanami is still always keeping your needs in mind, noticing how soaked you're starting to become. He removes himself from inside your mouth, allowing you to fully breathe. You look so beautiful, tears threatening to spill from your lash line and saliva coating around your mouth. He helps you back up to your feet, leading your body to lay backwards onto the bed, callused fingers catching any tears that manage to slip. “Tell me what you want.”
Your gaze moved from his eyes over to Gojo. “I want you both. Please sir, just touch me.” You felt pathetic as you begged, your core pulsing with need. You’ve never felt this sensitive before, everything feeling that much more intense given how hungry the two men in your presence are. 
“Aww, what a little slut you are.” Gojo grinned, making his way closer to you. “What do you think Nanami, has she been a good girl for us? Should we give her what she wants?” Gojo’s fingers began to rub on the outside of your panties. “Look at how wet she is for us.” Gojo showed Nanami your slick on his fingers, watching it glisten underneath the lowlight. 
“I think she has been a good girl.” Nanami smiles at you, so proud of how well you’ve been doing for them. “Go ahead, Gojo, you can touch her.”
“Finally.” Gojo quickly moved your panties to the side, the coolness of his touch catching you off guard as he teased the inside of your folds. “You don’t understand how torturous it was watching you without being able to touch you yet.” He makes quick work of finding your clit, slowly rubbing his thumb on your pearl as he watches you begin to writhe underneath. “Don’t forget why you’re here slut. You wanted to be treated like this so bad and now you got it. Beg for it.”
“P-Please Satoru, please touch me. I can’t take it anymore, I need it so bad.” You pleaded, beginning to feel helpless underneath him. Gojo smirked, plunging his slender fingers inside of you unexpectedly. You felt your body arch up in surprise, a gasp leaving your mouth as pleasure began to consume your body.
“So fucking greedy.” Gojo began slowly at first, catching a rhythm. “Look at how she’s drenching my fingers.” Nanami rubs himself at the sight, growing impatient. You’re too far gone to notice, feeling your own orgasm already beginning to slowly creep up in intensity. Before you know it, you're cumming all around his fingers, eyes rolling to the back of your head. Gojo quickly pulls his fingers out, not doing anything to help you ride it out. “Who told you that you could cum?” He taps his hand against your pussy repeatedly, watching you moan in a mix of pleasure and pain and you slowly come down from your high. “What a fucking whore.”
“I’m sorry sir, I couldn’t -fuck- I couldn’t help it.” You sob, looking at Nanami. You’ve never seen him look so angry. He didn’t say anything to you, only twirling his finger around, motioning for you to flip over. You quickly follow his que, not wanting to do anything to tick him off further. You can’t fully process that this is happening, your Nanami actually treating you this way.
You fucking loved it.
You felt his familiar touch rub over your ass as you got on all fours, arching your back slightly. He groaned at the sight of your wetness, glistening core almost calling out to him. He rubbed his tip against your folds, feeling your hole try to suck him in. Meanwhile, Gojo is sucking your juice off of his fingers, loving the taste of you.
“Get on with it Nanami, if she wants to be punished so badly then so be it.” Gojo made his way in front of you, rubbing the tip of his cock against your plush lips. “We told you what would happen if you didn’t listen, right? You have to be a bit smarter than that sweetheart.” The syrupy tone of his voice didn’t match his actions as he parted your lips with his head, feeling you wrap your lips against his girth. With that, Nanami finally pushed himself all the way in, moaning in unison along with you. Gojo could feel the vibrations of your moans against him.
Nanami gave you no time to adjust, pounding his entire length into you with such force that caused your mouth to hang open in shock. You felt so good, brain completely fogged over with no thoughts other than the complete monster that Nanami has become. He’s never fucked you like this, usually preferring soft thrusts over the hard pounding that he’s subjecting yourself to now. You suddenly felt a sharp slap on your ass, his large hand rubbing the sting away almost just as quickly as he placed it.
“Don’t ignore Gojo now, honey. I thought a slut like you would love to have two thick cocks filling you up this way?” Nanami questioned, picking up the pace which made it so much harder for you to focus. Gojo wasn’t having that. He placed one hand on each side of your face, holding it in place for him to thrust his hips against you. His cock filled your mouth, spit sloshing everywhere as your face got messier and messier.
“Fuck (y/n), you’re doing so fucking good for us princess.” Gojo moaned, the sounds coming from the room overwhelmed his senses. The bed creaking, you struggling to take Nanami while also pleasuring Gojo, and the sound of Nanami’s balls slapping against your ass sounded like music to his ears. Nanami couldn’t believe how hot this all was, feeling as your walls began to quiver around him.
“You’re gonna cum again baby?” Nanami asked, gripping your hips tighter as he felt himself get even closer. Gojo was already almost there, hips beginning to stutter as he watched you cry out. All you could do is whimper in response, the knot in your stomach growing tighter and tighter. Nanami made it there first, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he spilled himself inside of you. Ropes of cum flooded in as he fully pressed himself against you, beads of sweat threatening to drip off his nose. Gojo soon followed, shooting his load into your mouth as you took it all.
“Such a good girl.” Gojo mused, wiping the side of your mouth when he finished. He proceeded to kiss you, tasting himself on your tongue. Nanami pulled himself out slowly, watching in delight as his seed slowly dripped out of you. You whimpered at the now empty feeling, your orgasm slowly starting to retreat.
“You’re not going to finish me off?” You angrily turned to Nanami, watching the smirk begin to creep up his face.
“Not unless you beg for it.”
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© kingkaizen | do not copy, steal, or duplicate!
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leviathanleva · 1 day
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Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Fem Reader
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Request:
This is kind of a weird req and I want to write something for it eventually but-
Fem! Reader who was frozen but eventually escapes and falls for the Ghoul and they fuck a couple times and for some reason she has symptoms of pregnancy and they're like what the fuck but it just turns out that she was pregnant before she was frozen and the Ghoul's reactions and whatever. Angst or fluff I don't really mind :)
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[MDNI, Angst, Smut, Fluff]
[ I don't usually do requests, but I wanted to help out a friend who believed they wouldn't be able to do justice to this prompt. It's sloppy, not perfect, but time is limited and I have other projects that need my attention so I hope this suffices. ]
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Freedom.
Freedom was sweet.
Freedom was bitter.
Since the moment you’d awoken in that Gods-forsaken cryo pod in that wasting away vault you’d known there was no other path except the path of freedom. Stepping over mummified corpses, fellow vault dwellers you presumed, you’d lead wobbly legs and a pounding heart to the entrance of the vault. It felt like yesterday you’d first set foot in there. In reality, you had no idea how many years had passed, but from the looks of the rusting walls and thick blanket of dust, it had been a while.
You took what you could, stuffing a stray children’s backpack you’d found along your scavenging mission, anything and everything that would be necessary for a journey into a land you used to call home. A small pocket knife was the best you could get and it wasn’t the perfect self-defense tool, but with no other choice there wasn’t much you could do but stuff it in the pocket of your suit and hope for a miracle if you ran into trouble.
And trouble you found.
Since your first step into the bone-dry, scalding hot, merciless wasteland, you’d found trouble in the shape of a deranged group of people hammering at the vault door with makeshift weapons. You might have been able to fight off one of them, you doubted given how dizzy and out-of-touch with reality you were, but there was a slim chance. Three of them though, all large burly men with enough scars to put a military general to shame? No, that was impossible. You ended up a writhing mess on the ground, face pushed into the cracked soil and screaming and kicking as you were being taunted and tied up like a good catch after a successful hunt. Trafficking, cannibalism, organ harvesting, death. A slew of words so vile they made your stomach churn and your eyes bulge out of your skull because who in their right mind said such things to an outnumbered, weak woman who pleaded in a broken voice and had tears staining her cheeks?
Then he appeared, your guardian angel.
A man so grotesque on the outside, so vicious and bitter and terrifying, and yet he was the one who shot your captors down. He was the one who cut your wrists and ankles free and helped you sit up as you heaved and choked and sobbed. He was the one who checked you over despite the visible revulsion on his gaunt face at the sight of your vault suit. He’d dragged you to your feet, forced some sense into you, given you a stern reality check of the world he came from and never really shooed you away when you’d started following him around like a lost pup.
You loved him since that day.
And maybe it wasn’t the good kind of love because he’d used you as a distraction for his enemies more than once and never shared his water with you even if you were on the brink of passing out from dehydration. But he also let you sit close to the fire at night, told you stories of his bounty hunts, taught you how to handle a gun and always kept you in his sights lest someone thought you were up for grabs. He was a cruel man, but he was also a kind man.
You never overstepped. Always following his every order, whether it was to hide, to strip bleeding men of their valuables, or to get him another drink when his feet were kicked high and he couldn’t be bothered to do so himself. Always pliant, always willing, no questions asked because you wanted to live despite the hellhole reality you were thrust in. Maybe that’s why he grew fond of you over time, you didn’t rebel against him and took what he gave you with a whisper of gratitude. A good dog, that’s how he saw you. He slowly softened for you, split your rations evenly when you sat down to eat, thrust the canteen in your hands when he noticed your lips were dry, and smushed his hat over your head when the sun was too awful and you were too delicate to withstand it.
Cooper Howard, that was his name, a man made ghoul by the sheer toxicity of the surface, a man who gave you enough scraps to keep your love for him flourishing but never progressed things beyond a one-sided infatuation.
That is until he was left struggling on the floor of an old abandoned farmhouse, a feral ghoul looming above him and pinning him in place and snapping its jaws at him as foul-smelling, viscous drool dribbled down its chin. His hunting knife was gripped tightly, but between keeping himself from being bitten to shreds and holding one of the ghoul’s hands at bay before it could sink into his side and tear at his gut, he was stuck.
When the shot rang out and the ghoul slumped against him lifelessly, he saw you. Holding his gun as you shook violently, about ready to piss yourself because you’d never killed anything remotely resembling a human in your life, eyes wide and lips trembling and knees buckling. Smoke leisurely rose from the tip of the barrel and as he pushed the corpse off himself you sunk to your arse and burst into a fit of haggard breaths and disturbed whines.
You didn’t resist when he picked you up with alien tenderness, didn’t protest when he stuffed you in an old rickety couch and crushed you beneath his weight with a handful of sweet praises. You didn’t pull away in disgust when his tongue pushed past your lips in search of your own, twirling, dancing, letting words spill without ever being spoken. He wasn’t gentle, since the moment you heard his belt unbuckling he was all pawing hands and chopped curses, fiddling with your clothes until his need became too much to bear and he simply ripped them off. He threw a weak promise to get you new ones, but you couldn't care less at that moment. High-pitched mewls and desperate grunts bounced off the walls as he took you on that couch, rutting into you like a man possessed and gripping onto you so firmly as if you’d come to your senses any moment now and run away from him.
A radstorm raged outside, clashing against the boarded-up windows as the pitter-patter of acid rain poured against the tin roof. You never even noticed, too drunk on the sloppy sounds coming from the slick mess of your conjoined bodies, on the verge of a climax so raw it would surely knock you out. Blunt fingernails sank in your supple thighs, scarred hips slammed into yours as he fucked you dumb into the couch. His mouth never left yours, whether it was to keep himself quiet in case too many loving words escaped or because he craved your taste like a rabid dog did blood, you didn’t know. When your ankles locked around his waist he snarled, whatever self-control he’d managed to scrape by completely dissipating as he drove himself deeper. The tip of his cock snapped against the barrier of your squishy cervix so deliciously and you screamed his name in desperation and he couldn’t fucking take it anymore. He released one of your hips to slide a hand between your bodies and drag his rough thumb over your swollen clit. Your back arched, eyes rolled back and mouth agape as you bombarded him with barely coherent sentences that he didn’t deserve. He clutched at your hair when you clamped down on him, milking him for everything he had while he rocked out his release with face stuffed in the crook of your neck.
Something in him changed after that night.
It might have been the unfathomably long time without a caring touch or him finally succumbing to the little voices in his head telling him what he held for you wasn’t simply fondness. He took you every chance he got. In a guest house, against the wall of a bar after one too many drinks, bent over on a chewed-up fence after scavenging another farmhouse. He was relentless and you loved that about him. You loved everything about him. Always needy and ready and he couldn’t ask for more because this was the closest he could get to expressing himself when it came to you.
Life was good.
Everything was perfect.
Until it wasn’t.
You wince as the needle prickles your skin before retracting back in the Pip-boy. The green screen whirls, loading up and analyzing your blood sample for a full body scan. You give the damn thing a few smacks when it freezes and stutters.
Now really wasn’t the time for technical difficulties.
“You okay?”
Apparently, no matter how hard you had tried to hide your bubbling panic, it was still evident enough for Cooper to notice. He’s looking at you with a hint of suspicion, attention averted from the steaming can of cram he’d been stuffing in his mouth.
“I’m good, no worries.” you muster up a weary smile and instinctively tuck the Pip-boy closer to your stomach.
When the Vault Boy pops up on the screen with all the information available regarding your condition, you tense up. Your fingers hesitate to turn the cog to the main body scan as doubts and confusion and raw, untamable fear chew at your sensitive stomach and tug you slowly towards the gates of insanity.
“Don’t look okay to me.” Cooper straightens from his slouched-over position over the measly fire and sets aside his food before clasping a hand over one of his thighs. “Was wrong? Was I too rough again?” there’s a teasing scowl brightening his usually stoic expression, he scoffs and shakes his head. “I told you t’ smack my shoulder when I get too loose, woman. You never listen.”
You want to cry and laugh, but you do neither.
“That’s not it, Cooper.”
“Then speak for fuck’s sake!” he grumbles and gestures to you with slight agitation.
You pay him no mind, having delved too deep in the premises of your mind on what you were supposed to do if you read that single life-changing word on the scan. With a huff and a mental pat on your back, you turned the cog and opened the main body scan.
“Pregnant.”
It made sense. It explained the morning sickness that you hid, being forced out of your sleep while Cooper snored lightly next to you, and carefully pulling away before rushing to a safe spot where you could empty your stomach without being seen. You never told him, just jammed RadAway after RadAway, hoping it was poisoning or maybe some sort of flu. When the cravings came, you started second-guessing. You never gave into them, throwing caps left and right for a slice of some nearly impossible-to-get delicacy was unthinkable, you had to survive and there was no room for luxury.
You failed to spot the rugged ghoul as he left his seat and crept closer, spurred by your awkward demeanor, until he was kneeling right next to you and silently sharing the sight of the green graph.
“What in the hell…”
You recoiled at his words, at his realization, and tried to cover the Pip-boy with your hand and hide the thunderous revelation of your condition.
He was having none of it.
He smacked your hand away and gripped your forearm so tight you shuddered, bringing it closer to his eyes as his face contorted.
“What the fuck does this mean?” he spits and looks at you with something vile in those whiskey-colored eyes you loved so much.
“I don’t – ” you swallow thickly, crumbling under his gaze and snuffing out the need to rip away from him and run. You meet his stare for a split second before turning away. “ – I haven’t…Not with anyone except you.”
Lightning strikes into his core and he pulls away like bitten by a snake.
“The hell you mean you haven’t fucked anyone ‘cept me?” he stands, intimidating and cold, berating you with just his visage and nothing more. “How the fuck did you get pregnant then?”
“I’ve been with you since the day I left the vault, you know this.” you reach out for him, desperate for some sort of comfort, desperate for him to calm down because you couldn’t mentally take on both him and the news. “Cooper, please.”
He shoots you down with a snarl and a spine-chilling glare.
“Don’t fucken’ touch me.”
He’s pacing, trotting around like a cornered animal, the spurs on his boots clinking, a sickening cacophony that roots you in place and keeps your mouth shut. You don’t know what to say, you’re not a liar, yet you wish this was some twisted joke and you could laugh it off and confirm it wasn’t real.
A hand is rubbing vigorously at his chin as he tries to think, but there’s nothing in his head except that one single word that means so much and makes absolutely no sense.
He knew you weren’t lying, he’d always kept you within arm’s length, there was no way for you to even sneak past him without being noticed.
It still hurt though, the image of you leaving because he was a rotten man who’d struck gold by finding you. He was no good for you, never would be, and it tore him to shreds because he knew all of this and still he kept you by his side and cocked his gun at anyone who tried to step too close.
Why wouldn’t you bed another man when he looked like a walking corpse and acted even worse? Why wouldn’t you ditch him to be with a nice bartender or a good-mannered farmboy who would treat you like a lady should be treated?
Why wouldn’t you cheat him out of the only happiness he had?
“Is not fucking possible, sweetheart.” he finally speaks, faltering at your audible sobs. The idea of you slipping past his fingers to sleep with someone else is pushed to the side by the absolutely pathetic sight of you curled up on the floor and crying.
Ghouls were sterile, all of them, 100%, there was no way for him to knock you up even if he wanted to. But the Pip-boy said otherwise and now he was left questioning the very foundation of his existence.
“I know that.” you sputter through choppy hiccups. “But you’re the only man I’ve been with...It doesn’t make fucking sense.” you clutch at your sides, waterfalls streaming down your cheeks and pooling under your chin, eyes distant and jittery. “What if it’s deformed because of the radiation? Or if it’s not even alive? Or – What am I supposed to do…”
His body moves despite his protests.
He kneels in front of you, encasing you between his thighs, his fingers twitching and rising as he drowns in the long-forgotten feeling of being presented with such news. His hands are shaking and he rests them over your shoulders and pretends he can’t feel his pulse rampaging in his throat.
“What do you wanna do?”
It’s such a simple question, but coming from him under such a premise makes your head spin and your heart stop.
“I – ” you press your forehead against the center of his collarbones, arms protectively curling over your belly because despite not showing there was someone in there. Someone precious. “ – I don’t know…I’d like to – I don’t know.”
You stop and start, cutting off words that you weren’t ready to tell him yet and he wasn’t ready to hear either. But life didn’t care if you were ready or not, things happened, consent or not, and now you were both stuck in a mess you’d unwittingly made all by yourselves. There was always the easy route – find a settlement, get to the doc, have it removed, done deal, easy peasy.
But did you really want that?
It wasn’t just your kid, it was his too and him not saying a word, not even mentioning discarding it made things so much harder.
No, he gave you a choice, he put everything in your hands and he was holding you while you fought a silent battle that would dictate the entirety of your future.
“I think – ”
“ – I ain’t goin’ fucken’ nowhere.” he slices through your hesitation like butter, body rigid and jaw clenched because for once he was trying to be a man and not a monster.
Maybe even a father.
You shatter in his arms like glass and he presses one of his palms against the back of your head while the other circles your waist and brings you closer.
“You’d stay?” you ask with such horror and disbelief that it clutches at his chest and he struggles to breathe. You’re no coward, despite how heavy the air feels, you look up at him and you’re so vulnerable and angelic that he forgets every setback that would come his way. “If I kept it…you’d stay?”
He can’t answer, the words refuse to form, but he holds your gaze with calm stability, a good masquerade to hide a mind that was racing and a heart that was pounding so heavily he felt his entire body pulsing. Instead, he leaned in and pressed his chapped lips against your forehead in a voiceless promise.
You suck in a breath like it’s your first and cling to the collar of his coat, disappearing in his form, hiding from the world that was so cruel yet gifted you with something so precious.
The Pip-boy is still lit and waiting, the scan bright and piercing. You skim over it absentmindedly, a simple curious flick, then look again and squint your eyes at the tiny text printed under your pregnancy announcement.
“Four months.”
You’d only been out of cryo for three…
He followed your wide-eyed stare, he was no fool, he could do basic math.
You’d been pregnant before meeting him, before leaving the vault, before the bombs.
You want to puke. You want to rip your skin off and bury yourself alive because for the love of God it couldn’t be just perfect, there had to be some sick underlying thing to ruin everything. It wasn’t his, he was right, ghouls couldn’t have children.
It wasn’t his child.
You look disgusted and utterly pained because the realization makes you mourn at the idea of carrying his baby. You wanted to, you’d give anything for it to be his and not some random bloke you couldn’t even remember the face of. You wanted it to be his…
You search his face for anger or disappointment or anything that would prepare you for what was to come. Why would he stay if the damn thing wasn’t even his? He had his own problems, his mission. You were just an obstacle that had nearly made him believe he was going to be a father and maybe it was his second chance at doing it right.
There was nothing though.
He simply blinked at you, lips parted as he formed a sentence that had you pledge yourself to him for as long as you stood and breathed.
“That don’t change a damn thing.”
Tag list: @bountydroid @v3lv3tf0x @silverose365
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lancermylove · 2 days
Text
Body Swap (HC)
Fandom: Obey Me
Pairing: DB x fem!Reader
Warning: None
Requested by: Anon
Prompt: Can you do a body swap headcanon with demon brothers? So basically female MC swap body with one of the brothers
A/N: Hope you like it! Anon, who requests the N.SFW version of this. I don't write for gender bender, especially with 18+ HCs. This one is an exception because it's more emotional and comedic, so sorry!
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Lucifer
Lucifer is the most mature in handling the body swap incident. He doesn't make a big deal about having to deal with being in a woman's body, even though he secretly feels uncomfortable.
If you set any rules for him, he will gladly follow them as it is your body, and Lucifer does not intend to take advantage of it.
He asks Solomon and Barbatos to help resolve this situation as soon as possible. But for some reason, he can be himself without feeling pressured to uphold his title.
On the other hand, you don't like openly showing your emotions, even more than usual. You also feel the pressure of being prideful. It almost feels like things are out of your hands. You don't want to be prideful, but the universe forces you to behave that way. Is this how Lucifer always feels as the Avatar of Pride? Your ego also gets wounded more than usual.
But you can finally take off your...Lucifer's shirt...and get to see the scars of his wings firsthand.
Most of all, you enjoy ordering others around. Even though the brothers know that you are not Lucifer, they still get intimated since you are using the first brother's body.
You would have taken full advantage of this by transforming into Lucifer's demon form, but he already warned you not to do that by threatening you with a tough punishment once you two switch back.
Mammon
He is embarrassed! Why did he switch bodies with you? How is he supposed to sleep and go to the bathroom and stuff? Just the thought of undressing makes his mind explode.
When you suggest using a blindfold or closing his eyes, Mammon tries his best to do things without peeking at your body, even though a part of him is tempted. But no! Respect is more important.
Meanwhile, you have the sudden urge to hoard valuable things and 'borrow' things from others, and the most prominent thing in your mind is money. Money, money, and MONEY!
You feel your greed levels rising and have a hard time to control. Sometimes, you have to talk to Mammon to figure out the best way to control your destructive urges.
"Now, y'know how I feel..."
Those words hit you hard, and you forgive him for everything he has ever done.
While you were protective of the younger brothers before, you have a devastating urge to sacrifice yourself for them, even though your...Mammon's body trembles at the thought of what punishment Lucifer will give him.
You make a mental note to help Mammon get out of punishments in the future when you switch back.
Levi
Absolutely refuses to do anything and sits in his room in a fetal position. He can't even bring himself to go to the bathroom or take a bath. Even if you tell him to clean your body, he will refuse.
Though, Levi feels lighter because he can think more clearly being away from his demonic body. It's almost like he can think more clearly.
For some reason, you start to feel jealous of everything...every little thing to the point where it makes you feel down and suffocated. When you start crying from the feeling, Levi panics and tries to calm you down. After calming down, you realize that he always feels this way - no wonder Levi is always down. You give him (your body) a tight hug, making him blush profusely.
Unfortunately for the brothers, when you become aggravated due to an argument between them, your emotions accidentally summon Lotan. However, the brothers don't blame you for it, and Levi finally realizes how scary it is for the others when he calls Lotan out of nowhere.
You spend the most time in Levi's room and get into a habit of changing into his demon form and wrapping his tail around him (your body) just to get a reaction out of him.
This experience brings you two much closer than before, and Levi trusts you far more than before.
Satan
Oh my Devildom, he doesn't feel angry, even when triggered. This feeling is very difficult for him to get used to, but it's a refreshing change. However, he constantly reminds himself that this is only temporary and that he should not get used to it.
He is also mature about the body swap and does his best to respect your body as best as possible. Even though Satan won't admit it, he finds the experience fascinating and finally understands how a woman's body works. Although, he will never get used to random body aches, especially random lower back pain.
You, on the other hand, are not so fortunate. You feel like you are a ticking time bomb of anger. One little mishap, and you feel like destroying everything around you. Satan tries his best to pacify you, but it doesn't work all the time. At times, Beel and Lucifer have to restrain you after you have a rage episode. Then, you profusely apologize and nearly break into tears. It's a vicious cycle.
This makes you realize just how hard Satan has to work to keep his anger in check, and Satan realizes how difficult it is for his brothers to control him when he gets angry.
Once you switch back, you are tempted to tell Satan to meditate, but the thought of a demon meditating is hilarious yet odd.
Asmo
Asmo is the only one who is excited about the body switch. He doesn't feel uncomfortable in any way and actually enjoys being in your body. He has always wanted to see what it feels like to be a woman.
Even though Asmo is in your body, he has the urge to fix every skin problem you have. If you don't have any, he will continue to take care of your skin for you. He may even go as far as to develop a skincare routine tailored to you. If the two of you stay switched for a long time, he will whip your skin into perfect shape.
Meanwhile, even though you feel beautiful in Asmo's body, there is always a voice in the back of your head that whispers 'what-if' scenarios. What if you stop being beautiful? What if you get breakouts? What if no one loves you? What if others think you are unattractive? The pressure to be beautiful is suffocating. A part of you feels very bad for Asmo and can finally understand why he has to be beautiful at all times.
One thing makes you very uncomfortable, and that is Asmo's urge for desire. His avatar needs physical affection all the time. The thought of getting close to someone in Asmo's body is very disturbing, so he helps you out by cuddling with you whenever you need to get close to someone. At least you are hugging your own body...which is still odd to think about but better than the alternate option.
Beel
He doesn't like the feeling of being shorter and less muscular, but that doesn't stop him from working out. However, you will have to remind him not to start with heavy exercises if you don't work as much as him.
Most of all, he feels odd not having to think about eating 24/7. He can actually focus on other things, and it's a nice change. But he does miss eating endlessly solely for the taste of good food.
Meanwhile, you feel like devouring the entire world's food supply. Nothing you eat, no matter how much and how heavy, satisfies you.
You cannot focus on anything except food. The worst part is that Beel forces you to exercise, following his normal routine. He doesn't want his body to be out of shape.
On the plus side, you can see over most people's heads. You will never lose anyone in a crowd. Also, you have a great deal of strength to the point where you can lift an entire house if you want.
For the time you are in Beel's body, you act like a superhero, saving everyone from the bullies and villains. All you need to do is grab them by their shirt and lift them off the ground with one hand. That is enough to make them petrified.
You also get the pleasure of flexing in front of the mirror and admiring Beel's rock-hard muscles to your heart's content.
Belphie
He finds the situation hilarious and doesn't seem to care. Belphie almost has a 'it is what it is' reaction. Initially, he thinks his sloth-like nature will pass to your body but soon realizes that he has a lot more energy to do anything and everything he wants.
Belphie decides to use this chance to fulfill this bucket list before he returns to his sleepy body. Of course, he drags you with him everything, much to your dismay.
You feel sleepy, lazy, and lethargic. No matter how much you sleep, it's never enough. Your brain always feels hazy to the point where you can't even think straight. How does Belphie constantly put up with this? No wonder he sleeps most of the day.
You secretly try to consume caffeine products, but nothing works to keep you awake. Sometimes, Beel has to carry you around because you get into a habit of falling asleep anywhere at any time.
Though you don't tell Belphie, you are secretly happy to return to your body. A part of you doesn't feel like sleeping for days as you got all the sleep you needed in the few days you were in Belphie's body.
----
Epilogue:
After you switch back, you finally understand why the brothers behave the way they do. While you don't say it aloud, you believe the avatars are more curses than anything else. However, you learn to sympathize with them more. How do they deal with the curse every day? They are strong.
So, the next time Lucifer gets prideful, Mammon gets greedy, Levi gets jealous, Satan gets angry, Asmo goes on about beauty, Beel eats endlessly, and Belphie dozes off, you don't get mad at them. All you do is hug them and tell them, "It's okay."
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➣  Obey Me Masterlist: [1][2][3] ➣ Main Masterlist
➣ Buy me a Ko-fi? ➣ Commission: Open
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ynbabe · 2 days
Note
LOGAN FIC REQ!! (i love your messages au smmm btw THEYRE SO GOOD AHH) ok anywayssss
can you pls do logan x super super famous!reader.(preferably an actress but i don't mind any) so both of them are dating but are trying to keep it a secret since they've only been dating for a short amount of time. one night they decide to go on a date but paparazzi was there and it was going VIRAL. reader regrets not double checking if there would be any paps. sooo then everyone starts investigating on logan as the internet does and since everyone doesn't watch f1, they only see logan crashing and blah blah blah so they see him as a "bad driver" and he starts getting A LOT of hate because people think reader deserves better. they also start comparing him to reader's "more better and famous ex". reader and logan take time off social media and people think they broke up until reader releases an instagram post defending him and yeah a lot of fluff and hurt/comfort.
idk if this made sense but pls feel free to change anything!! again i love your work sm 💕‼️
Hiiii, omg thank you so much! Love love LOVE the fic idea and without any further ado- here's the fic, it isn't exactly as the prompt but I hope you love it-
Keep my wife's name OUT YOUR DAMN MOUTH ୨୧ Logan Sargeant x famous! reader
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As a celebrity, you don’t often have the privilege of privacy. The cameras seemed to follow you everywhere, from outside your house to the restaurants you ate at and even to private celebrations with your friends and family.
Your last relationship had gone south exactly because of the paparazzi, making assumptions about the seriousness of your relationship and even spreading pregnancy and marriage rumours, scaring the man away.
You had wanted to take it slow, heart broken from your previous relationship but then you met Logan and for the first time in a long time you felt like you could breath, like you could do what you wanted without being judged.
You knew who he was and he knew who you were and that was perfect.
The both of you had spent a perfect week in your villa in Bali, it had been risky but no one caught on, surprisingly.
You thought your luck would continue and you threw causation to the wind, not asking your assistant to check for paparazzi at the sushi restaurant you were going to in Shanghai.
Unfortunately, you were caught just as you were leaving the restaurants waking up to a host of notifications, some good and some gut-wrenching.
Logan on the other hand tried not to throw up, his eyes wide, you could tell he was scared. Would his team drop him? No, no. Why would they? Right? Oh God.
"Logan, Logs, baby are you okay?" You called out, dropping to your knees and cradling his face in your palms.
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f1waglife
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f1waglife Y/n nation how are we feeling tonight? Logang? How are we? This was definitely not the couple we expected but is this the couple we deserve?
Username OH HELL NAW- WHY IS THIS FLORIDA MAN DATING QUEEN Y/N?????
Username Y/n come home the kids miss you
Username Omg mans is in love
Username Get someone to look at you the way Logan looks at Y/n
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You saw some of the comments and while some made you smile, some made you want to slap a bitch, unfortunately, a scandal would not help, so you called up your PR manager, and the post was gone within a minute.
Logan's race had gone sour, with him getting an unfair penalty and points on his licence. The already poor start to your day had turned even worse when you saw Logan tiredly storm into the room collapsing on the bed, burying his face in his pillow.
"What... the..... fuck?" He screamed into the pillow making you smile a little. The small habit he'd picked up from you, screaming into the pillows as a way to think, one that you had picked up from one of the characters you played a long time ago.
"Why do people even care about who's dating who? That's so stupid." He rolled his eyes.
"Don't we binge Keeping Up with the Kardashians every Monday?" You asked.
"That's not the same though-" He paused and switched his phone off, he already didn't have access to his own Instagram, having given access to his manager a long time ago, he now didn't even want to talk to his friends or colleagues many of whom just wanted an autograph from you along with an explanation how he could be with you.
He turned around, pulling the blanket on him, tired from the day.
You pulled up Twitter as a habit but were greeted with a terrible chain of tweets judging every aspect of your relationship and even worse criticizing Logan without even knowing anything about the sport.
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"What the fuck-" You cursed out loud, you knew your fanbase was slightly (an underestimation) larger than your boyfriends but how could they call themselves your fans, when you have been a fan of Logan's since his first season in f1? All your co-stars American or not knew your borderline obsession for the man, every race week you'd be posting Williams on your story, how could they still hate on him?
You looked next to you, where your boyfriend was sleeping a small scowl on his pretty face.
PR be damned, he didn't deserve this.
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y/nl/nofficial
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y/nl/nofficial To anyone who calls themselves my fans and talks shit about my lovely boyfriend, UNFOLLOW ME ASAP. Logan is the kindest, sweetest, most talented man I've had the pleasure to know and he deserves better than the bullshit he gets from some assholes who don't know anything about him. To quote my friend Will: KEEP MY WIFES NAME OUT YOUR DAMN MOUTHS-
username oop sis snapped
username you tell em girl
username LOVE a gf whos rabidly in love with her bf
username now why would y'all try and shame Mother's boyfriend when all she does is post about him for race weekends??
username fr shes been a logan fan before logan fans have been logan fans
Williams We stan a protective gf 😮‍💨
username admin you'll always be famous y/nl/nofficial Cant help it he looks really pretty in blue 🥰 username oh she in love love
username shall we start calling him Father?
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The way I was struggling to write this fic cause I had to write bad things about Pookie Bear Logie is insane. But- I hope yall like it, please do let me know in the comments or reblogs!!!
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wifeyoozi · 1 day
Note
hiiii!!!! i adore your works and love reading them!! 🫶🏻 while scrolling through your profile i saw that your requests for ot13 were open! :) so i thought maybe i could request ot13 reaction to a s/o with tattoos? (doesn't have to be a full sleeve for example, just tattoos in general)
or if you're not really feeling it, maybe ot13 reaction to a s/o with physical touch as their love language? 🫣
i hope you're having a nice day / night and keep up the good work!! 💘
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ot13 seventeen : when your love language is physical touch
ceecee's note : sorry for late post lol and also I'm doing the second prompt not cuz I'm uncomfy with tattoos in fact I have two myself but I just find the second one really fluffy tho if you want me to do another one with the first prompt too, you can ask again and I would love writing about it too <33
seungcheol : he's really clingy himself, so he loves that you show your love to him by constantly hugging him and cuddling with him. when not in front of camera, the two of your really look like those teddy bears who hug each other and have been stitchd at their hands so they can literally not be separated from each other. like two koalas.
jeonghan : doesn't respond to you clinging on him very actively like seungcheol but everytime you hug him, he'll automatically hug back and when you are just touch starved, he'll come and plop his head on your lap so you can touch him and hug him and cuddle him all you want.
joshua : my gentleman. not the one to usually start physical contactbut really loves when you do and responds with almost the same energy. loves having you in his arms and keeping you warm all the time.
junhui : secretly very cuddly. doesn't show it a lot at the start of your relationship. now he'll pout every second you are not physically in contact with him and is just as much of a cuddle bear as you are.
soonyoung : he also naturally has physical-touch as his love language. he is more often clinging on you that you on him and literally loves when you two are hugging so close there is not even space for vacuum between you two, cheeks squishing against each other.
wonwoo : physical affection isnt his love language but he loves being the recipient of it. there are very less people he is as comfortable to be so close and touchy with and you are one of them. he really loves having you cling onto him like you are a koala and he is your tree branch
woozi : he rarely responds to you cuddling to him always, but that doesn't mean he doesn't love it. he really loves it. he actually feels so loved and appreciated the way you are always holding on him. on rare occasions like when he is tired or just full of love for you, he'll initiate physical touch by hugging you close and clinging to you instead.
minghao : doesn't show on surface to others how much he loves having you constantly bother him with hugs and cuddles and touches but you do know that he really enjoys that just by how he looks at you and smiles at you and always has a loose yet firm hand resting on your hips or back everytime you are by his side.
mingyu : this big baby literally feels so happy every time you cling to him. though physical touch isn't his primary love lang, its definitely one of them. literally greets you with bone-crushing hugs everytime and is peppering you with kisses whenever you cuddle beside him.
seokmin : he loves whenever you are constantly touching him. loves seeing you smile when you hug him and breath full of his scent. hugs you every chance he gets because he knows how much you like it. would never push you off him or even tell you so whenever you are hugging or cuddling him, even if he gets slightly uncomfortable or his arm dies under the weight of your head.
seungkwan : all he really needs after the long day of work is being hugged full by you. it just so helps that you love doing so. literally relaxes under your touch every time, just increasing you urge to keep him close all the time. if you let go of him even momentarily, he'll get so sulky.
vernon : he isn't one to start physical touch by himself either, but is always really comfortable when you do so. doesn't even realsie when he wraps his arms around you and rests his head on top of yours while cuddling. just loves you being in his space when he loves you.
chan : he's the kind who keeps changing his love language to match his partner's. your love language is physical touch? well now so is his! literally matches your energy in cuddliness and touchiness all the time. will hold you close and tight all the time and kiss you all the time because he knows how much you love it.
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bookyeom · 2 days
Text
campfire - bsk
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pairing: seungkwan x reader word count: 1.7k warnings: the tiniest mention of blood at the beginning request prompt: "What are we to each other?"
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A/N: Thanks so much for all the support for my 700 follower celebration. You guys rock! I'm doing my best to get through the requests, but there were way more than I anticipated so bear with me!
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"I’m bleeding," you wince. You sit down on one of the rocks, turning your foot to assess the damage. A small trail of blood leads from your ankle to your pinky toe, and you let out a little whine. "Gross."
Who’s idea was it to go on a hike at 5:30am, anyway? 
Yours. Right. It was your idea. 
You’d thought some of your friends would join you – you’re on a week-long cottage vacation. Why would you not immerse yourself in the nature all around you? But only one person had signed up to tag along – the one you thought liked you the least. You don’t even know if you would consider him a friend.
The hike had been mostly silent, awkward even – and then, like an idiot, you’d gone and tripped. 
Seungkwan wastes no time, immediately crouching down on the ground in front of you. He motions for you to put your foot up on his knee and you oblige, wincing again as you move. You can’t help but watch his face as he assesses the injury. His hair is messy from the wind, and parts of it are falling across his forehead as he leans forward. He looks kind of beautiful in this element, you have to admit. All sweaty and flushed from the exertion. You try and fail to suppress a shiver as his fingers run across your skin, and his eyes meet yours in concern. 
"Did that hurt?" 
You feel your cheeks heat up as you shake your head no, before breaking his gaze and looking back down at your foot. You watch as he pulls off his backpack, resisting the urge to comment on the fact that he has a first-aid kit in there (because of course he does), even though that’s what you do. You and Seungkwan are just that – two people who happen to have the same friends, and bicker over the dumbest shit. But right now, with the way he looks so soft and concerned, his lower lip between his teeth in concentration, you can’t find it in you to make a snarky comment. 
You’ve been finding it harder and harder to do that lately, if you’re being honest with yourself. You don’t know when it started to happen, but the teasing between the two of you just makes you feel warm all over now, instead of irritated like it used to. You’re starting to resent the way he makes you smile.
“This will hurt.” Seungkwan’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts, and you nod, unable to find your voice as he presses a piece of peroxide-soaked cotton onto the affected area. You hiss at the pain, and his free hand gives your calf a gentle squeeze of reassurance. “It’s not sprained,” he tells you, “but it’s going to hurt like a bitch. You should be okay to walk on it, but we should definitely head back.”
He starts packing up his bag again, and you wish that you could find something, anything to say. You know a thank you is in order, but all you can manage is, “Since when did you become an expert in sprained ankles?”
Seungkwan snorts, but he doesn’t so much as flinch while he continues to put his things back in his bag. “Being the captain of the volleyball team has its perks, I guess.”
“And co-captain of the badminton and table tennis teams.”
That makes him look up. His eyes are wide in surprise, and you try to ignore how flushed you’ve suddenly become under his gaze. “Yeah,” he says slowly, “I didn’t know you even knew that about me.”
You can’t help the defense that shoots back up as you retort, “What do you mean? It’s all you talk about. We get it, you’re sporty.”
“Right.” His lack of response to your quip has you flustered. He simply hums, stands up and slings his backpack over his shoulders. “Can you walk on your own?”
You feel stupid all of a sudden. “I think so,” you respond, dejected by the weird energy between the two of you, and you can feel Seungkwan’s eyes on you as you stand, testing the weight on your foot. “I’m good, just go slow.”
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You don’t talk to Seungkwan for the rest of the afternoon. He disappears when you make it back to the house, and all you get from him over lunch are some smiles and a giggle when you guffaw at Mingyu tripping on his own shoes. You spend the afternoon hanging out with Vernon and Seungcheol in the library, ankle propped up as you read in silence. 
A campfire is on the agenda for dinner, and you're told to sit back and relax as things are brought out from the cottage. You’re entertained from your seat by Seokmin and Mingyu as they begin cooking, and the rest of your group comes out one by one. The sun is beginning to set, and the sky is a beautiful array of blues, pinks and purples when Seungkwan sits in the chair next to you.
“How’s the ankle?”
“It’s fine,” you manage, and he nods. He settles in, eyes on the fire, and you can’t help but gawk at him. He chose to sit next to you?
The evening passes without much more chatter between the two of you. Your other friends are entertaining as always, and the time slips away peacefully until Jeonghan announces his early retirement, and others begin to follow suit. The fire is dwindling when Chan, Soonyoung and Seokmin announce that they’re headed in, leaving just you and Seungkwan, and you’re about to ask Seokmin to help you back to the house when Seungkwan interjects.
“I’ll help them.”
You flush at the chorus of oohs and ahhs that echo through the remaining group, but Seungkwan doesn’t even flinch, already maneuvering his chair in front of yours. 
“Come on,” he pats his thigh, “let me see.”
“Seungkwan…” 
He hums, focused on the task at hand. It’s quiet now as he stops fidgeting with the bandage, moving instead to gently massage the sore area around the wound. His touch is gentle but firm, and you feel electricity shoot through you. You’re holding your breath, and you feel a little dizzy; there are goosebumps on your leg from where he’s touching you. It’s not cold out, so you know you can’t blame it on that. It’s quiet, and all you can hear are the murmurs and occasional laughter of your friends in the distance, and the dying fire. 
“Why are you doing this?” Your question comes out harsher than you mean for it to, and you wince.
Seungkwan looks up at that, his fingers stilling on your skin. He’s silent for a moment, processing. “What, helping you?” He sounds incredulous, and you shrink a little bit back into yourself. He begins to gently press his fingers into the muscle of your ankle again, his eyes falling back to his work as he adds, “Didn't know you thought so lowly of me.” 
“It’s not as if you like me either, Seungkwan.” You wish you could pull your ankle away from him without it hurting, wish you could find a way to hide from whatever this conversation is about to be — but you can’t. 
Seungkwan shakes his head, the disbelieving huff of a laugh escaping his lips as he does. “Unbelievable.”
You cross your arms, defensive. “What?”
Despite being obviously annoyed, Seungkwan is gentle as he sets your foot back on the ground. “Nothing. Just let me help you back to the house, alright?”
You stare at him in disbelief as he stands, moving his chair back to its place before he holds out an arm to you. “No. What? You’ve got to be kidding me, Seungkwan.”
He runs a hand through his hair, jaw tight as looks away from you and mutters, “Fine. Get back to the house on your own.”
“That’s not…” You fight back the sudden urge to cry, blinking rapidly. “Seungkwan.”
Something in your voice makes him turn back to you, and now his own arms are crossed in defense. “What, Y/N?”
“I…” You don’t even know what you mean to say, really, and it takes a moment before you whisper softly, “What are we to each other?” 
You can tell he’s surprised by your question. His eyes widen as he straightens. “I… I don’t know,” he admits honestly. “But I can’t figure out why you don’t like me.”
His admittance lingers in the air around you, and your mouth falls open as you process. “Do you like me?” 
Seungkwan’s hand lifts to run over his face as he sits back in his chair. He’s embarrassed, you realize, and your heart stutters over itself in your chest. “I mean, yeah, but I just meant — you think that I hate you or something, but I don’t, even though you don’t like me —“
“I like you,” you blurt out, cutting him off before he can ramble any further. “I thought that you didn’t like me because you’re always so competitive and want to beat me at everything, and you never seem excited to see me or try to talk to me at parties, so I just… gave up on trying to make you like me.” 
Seungkwan lets out a whine. “You intimidate me! You’re good at everything and yes, I’m competitive, but you’re an equal match and that’s so hot. But I thought you didn’t like me, so I didn’t try, either.”
“Oh my god,” you say after a moment. 
You stare at one another in the dim firelight for a moment. And then you both begin to giggle.
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“Are we going to ignore that you called me hot?”
Seungkwan stumbles a bit, the arm he has slung around your shoulders tripping you up a little bit too, but he quickly catches himself. You bite back a smile. “Yes. Yes we are.”
“Why? I think you’re hot, too.”
Seungkwan fully stops the two of you now, turning to you with an exaggerated pout. You can just make out his features in the light from the cabin up ahead, and he looks so cute you could cry. “Don’t tease me,” he whines.
“I’m serious,” you tell him honestly. He looks away, but you can see the shy smile that’s formed on his face. 
“Fine,” he says as he begins to walk again. “We can talk more about that inside.”
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@wheeboo @tae-bebe @waldau @eoieopda @gyuminusone @minisugakoobies @lvlystars @seohomrwolf @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @christinewithluv @wqnwoos @iluvseokmin @darkypooo
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fluffymiyaa · 3 days
Text
Waste The Night
Painting!Gojo x Painter!reader x Painting!Geto
Summary: In a haunting twist of fate, your tragic painting suddenly springs to life, its sorrowful characters and somber scenes manifesting before your eyes.
3 4
Masterlist Main Masterlist
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You decide to start your morning by making breakfast. Just a simple omelet and a nice, hot cup of coffee. You eat it quietly, enjoying your morning routine as you watch TV. Then suddenly, there's a knock at your door. You furrow your brow, wondering who could be visiting your house this early in the morning.
You quickly finish up your nearly-done omelette and rush to the window, trying to discreetly peek outside. Your eyes widen in shock, and your body starts shaking when you see the police car parked outside your house. The sight sends a wave of fear and confusion coursing through you.
What? What's going on? What happened? What did i do?
Your mind races with a thousand questions as you approach the door, each step heavy with apprehension. What could have prompted the police to come to your house? You rack your brain, trying to recall if you've done anything that might warrant their attention, but nothing comes to mind. Your pulse quickens as you reach for the doorknob, your hand trembling slightly. With a mixture of fear and determination, you twist the knob and swing the door open, bracing yourself for whatever awaits on the other side.
You face the two police officers, their stern expressions sending a shiver down your spine. Your heart races as you try to maintain your composure.
"...can I help you, sir?" you manage to stammer out, your voice trembling with apprehension.
"Ms. L/N Y/N, correct?" One of them addresses you, his tone serious and probing.
"Y-yes, that's me..." you reply, the words barely escaping your lips as you struggle to keep your voice steady.
The two police officers glance at each other, a silent exchange passing between them. One of them retrieves something from behind his back, and your eyes widen as he holds up your phone. How could you not have realized your phone was missing? Your furrow your brow in confusion, wondering how they came to possess it.
"Huh...yes, that's mine...but how?" you manage to ask, your voice tinged with uncertainty and concern.
"Miss, please come with us to the police station." one of the officers replies, his tone firm yet respectful.
"What? No! I didn't even do anything!" you protest, your heart racing as panic begins to set in.
The officers sigh, their expressions sympathetic yet resolute as they try to maintain control of the situation. They show you a picture of a familiar old man - your manager.
"Do you know this man?" they ask, their eyes searching yours for any sign of recognition.
You gulp, feeling a lump form in your throat as you nod in acknowledgment.
"Yes...he's my manager." you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.
The officers nod, their demeanor becoming more serious as they continue to speak.
"He was found dead in the hallway just 50 meters from here. There was a long, sharp cut on his neck, indicating that someone had slashed his throat. Based on the condition of the body, it is estimated that the incident occurred in the middle of the night or early morning, as the body was still quite warm when it was discovered. We have called an ambulance to take him to the hospital, and we are currently trying to contact his family, including you." they explain, their words weighing heavily on you.
"So what I'm saying is, miss, you are the first suspect in this case. The last time the victim had contact was with you." they conclude, their gaze unwavering as they hold up your phone as evidence.
Your mind races with disbelief and fear as you try to process the gravity of the situation unfolding before you.
You freeze in place, a wave of shock washing over you, followed by a surge of panic that leaves you sweating and trembling. Your breath comes in ragged gasps, and tears threaten to spill from your eyes as you struggle to comprehend the situation unfolding before you.
"W-wait, there must be a misunderstanding! I-I didn't have the phone with me! Someone must have stolen it from me! Please, you need to trust me! I'm innocent! Somebody must have framed me!" you stammer, your voice trembling with desperation and fear.
The officers exchange a glance, their expressions unreadable as they listen to your frantic pleas. Yet, despite your protests, their demeanor remains stoic and unwavering, their duty to uphold the law evident in their unwavering resolve.
"Save that explanation at the police station, miss," one of the officers responds sternly, his tone leaving no room for argument.
With a heavy heart and a sense of dread gnawing at your insides, you nod weakly, realizing that you have no choice but to comply. The weight of the situation presses down on you like a suffocating blanket, leaving you feeling helpless and vulnerable.
You take a deep breath and follow the officers as they lead you towards their patrol car, your mind racing with unanswered questions and fears of what may await you at the police station.
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Your gaze shifts to the handcuffs encircling your wrist, a stark contrast against the soft fabric of your pajamas. These hands, once so adept at wielding a paintbrush with grace and precision, now rendered powerless and confined.
Alone in this sterile white room, the silence weighs heavily upon you, broken only by the rhythmic whirring of the fan above. Each breath feels labored, as if the air itself has grown thick with uncertainty and fear.
The door creaks open. A figure steps into the room, their footsteps echoing against the sterile white walls.
It's a detective, clad in a crisp suit with a stern expression etched onto his face. His presence alone sends a shiver down your spine, amplifying the feeling of unease that has settled over you like a suffocating fog.
"Miss Y/n, good morning" he says, gesturing towards the lone chair positioned in the center of the room.
Oh yeah what a good morning
You comply silently, the handcuffs rattling as you move, a constant reminder of your current predicament. Sitting down, you feel small and vulnerable under the detective's scrutinizing gaze.
He takes a seat across from you, opening a file with your name written on it in bold letters. His eyes flicker over the contents before fixing on you once more.
"We have some questions for you regarding the events of last night," he begins, his voice firm yet measured.
You nod slowly, your heart hammering in your chest as the gravity of the situation sinks in. This is far from the peaceful morning you had envisioned, and you can't shake the feeling that your life is about to change in ways you never imagined.
"Where were you last night?"
The officer's gaze remains fixed on you, probing for any signs of deception or evasion in your responses. You swallow hard, the weight of his scrutiny bearing down on you like a heavy burden.
"I was sleeping, in my room." you reply, betraying the nervousness that grips you.
He nods slowly, jotting down notes on a pad of paper as you speak. The scratching sound seems to echo loudly in the otherwise quiet room.
"How do you feel about him being your manager?" he inquires, his tone measured yet insistent.
You hesitate, searching for the right words to convey the mix of emotions swirling within you. "He... uhm, he's good at his job," you finally manage, the words sounding hollow even to your own ears.
The furrow in the officer's brow deepens as he continues to study you intently. "Ms. L/n, does your manager ever mistreat you?" he presses, his voice taking on a more serious undertone.
Your mind races, recalling the countless arguments and disagreements that have punctuated your working relationship with the now-deceased manager. "Well... it's just normal arguments," you offer hesitantly, attempting to downplay the significance of your conflicts.
But the officer doesn't seem convinced, his scrutiny unwavering. "Do you have any feelings of hatred towards him?" he probes further, his gaze piercing through your defenses.
Your heart pounds in your chest as you grapple with the weight of his question. "N-no... not at all," you stammer, though a nagging doubt lingers at the back of your mind.
"Ms. L/n, I need you to answer the question truthfully," the officer presses, his tone firm yet not unkind.
Your hands tremble slightly as you respond, the weight of the interrogation bearing down on you.
"I do" you admit
The officer's gaze remains steady, his eyes searching yours for any hint of deception. "Do you know if he engaged in inappropriate behavior, such as harassment towards someone else?" he asks, his voice soft yet probing.
You shift uncomfortably in your seat, struggling to find the right words amidst the chaos of your thoughts. "W-well, he has a bad temper," you offer tentatively. "I think he may have had a lot of enemies."
"Enemies, huh? Does that include you, miss?" the officer inquires, his voice taking on a more serious tone.
Your heart pounds in your chest as you meet his gaze, the weight of his question hanging heavy in the air. "No!" you exclaim, a surge of frustration and desperation rising within you. "I told you, I have nothing to do with this! Somebody else must be trying to frame me!"
The officer raises a hand in a calming gesture, his expression remaining composed despite your outburst. "Please, Ms. L/n, I understand that this is a difficult situation, but I need you to remain calm and lower your voice." he advises, adjusting his glasses with a practiced motion.
You take a deep breath, attempting to steady your nerves as you nod in acknowledgment. Despite your fear and uncertainty, you know that maintaining your composure is crucial if you hope to convince the officer of your innocence.
"Do you perhaps know somebody else who harbors ill feelings towards your manager?" the officer probes further.
Your mind races as you consider the question, recalling the various individuals who had clashed with your manager over the years. "Uh... I have some people in mind," you admit hesitantly, careful not to implicate anyone unfairly.
The officer nods, gesturing for you to continue. "Can you say their names?" he prompts, his voice calm yet insistent.
You take a deep breath, steeling yourself before naming those who had openly expressed their dislike for your manager and had been heard saying disparaging remarks about him.
"Are any of them aware of your security password?" the officer inquires, his brow furrowing in thought.
"Hm... Miko? She's one of the closest to me," you respond, your mind racing as you try to recall if you had ever shared your password with her. "But I never thought she's the one who stole my phone..."
The officer nods, jotting down notes in his book before closing it. He rises from his chair, his posture professional yet empathetic. "I think that's it for today. You can go home," he informs you, his voice carrying a sense of finality. "But you must remember, you're still a suspect. The police will continue to monitor you."
As he walks towards the door, he pauses, turning back to face you with a somber expression. "Oh, and I think you might need a lawyer." he adds, his words hanging heavily in the air as he exits the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the weight of uncertainty pressing down upon you.
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As you step back into your house, a wave of exhaustion washes over you, leaving your body feeling heavy and your limbs weak. You can hardly muster the energy to move, let alone eat. Your appetite seems to have vanished, replaced by a gnawing feeling of anxiety that weighs heavily on your mind.
Collapsing onto the nearest chair, you curl up into a ball, seeking solace in the silence of your empty house. The minutes tick by slowly, each passing moment adding to the weight of the burden you carry. You glance at the clock, its hands seemingly frozen in time, mocking your sense of helplessness as they stubbornly refuse to move.
As you sit there, the weight of the situation pressing heavily on your shoulders, you feel a surge of panic rising within you. The thought of finding a lawyer seems like an impossible task, especially considering the overwhelming number of options and the uncertainty of who you can trust. The exorbitant costs associated with legal representation only add to your distress, leaving you feeling trapped and helpless.
Tears well up in your eyes as you struggle to comprehend why this is happening to you. You've always tried to live your life with integrity and honesty, yet now you find yourself thrust into a nightmare of accusations and suspicion. It feels unfair, unjust, as if the world is conspiring against you for reasons beyond your understanding.
You bite your lip, trying to stifle the sobs that threaten to escape your throat. The weight of uncertainty and fear bears down on you, making it difficult to see a way out of this predicament.
"What should i do..? Why is this happening to me?"
You cry until exhaustion overwhelms you, and you don't even notice as you drift into sleep, your head resting on the table. Once you slowly wake up, your body jolting in panic as you glance at the clock.
"Shit, how long have I been asleep?"
It's already 3 pm. Feeling too restless to eat, you grab a pudding from the fridge and quickly devour it. Then, you make your way upstairs to your studio.
As you enter the room, your eyes land on the paintings of Suguru and Satoru on their canvases. You long for their comforting presence right now. Absentmindedly, you pick up a brush and examine it, lost in thought.
Suddenly, a light bulb seems to illuminate above your head. An idea forms in your mind.
"Wait, if I can't find a lawyer, maybe I can just make one?"
You chuckle at the absurdity of the thought, imagining crafting your own lawyer from brush, paint, and canvas.
But then you pause, considering the idea more seriously.
"...I mean, it's not a bad idea. And I wouldn't have to pay him or anything, right?"
Lost in contemplation, you sit in silence, the idea lingering in your mind as a potential solution to your current predicament.
"God..im gonna get real in jail if they find out it's a fake lawyer."
Your hand slowly dances on the canvas, skillfully shaping the figure as you contemplate what personality to imbue him with.
With each stroke of the brush, you pour your passion and determination into creating this imaginary legal representative. Despite the absurdity of the situation, your focus is unwavering. After all, you refuse to entertain the thought of ending up in jail.
As the painting begins to take form, you infuse it with characteristics that you believe a trustworthy lawyer should possess: intelligence, confidence, and a hint of charisma. With each brushstroke, you mold him into the ideal representation of legal expertise and competence.
In your mind, this painted lawyer becomes more than just a creation on canvas. He becomes your lifeline, your protector against the unjust accusations looming over you. And as you continue to paint, you feel a sense of empowerment wash over you, knowing that you are taking control of your own destiny, one brushstroke at a time. You drop your brush and let out a satisfied groan as you admire your creation. The image of the lawyer stares back at you from the canvas, exuding an aura of confidence and intelligence.
"Ah..i end up making him good looking. Well, what's the harm anyway." you mumble to yourself, a faint smile playing on your lips.
Stretching your tired muscles, you take a moment to appreciate the sense of accomplishment that comes with bringing your idea to life. Despite the unconventional circumstances, you can't help but feel a sense of pride in your artwork.
With a deep breath, you remind yourself that desperate times call for creative solutions. And if your painted lawyer can help you navigate through this legal ordeal, then his good looks are just an added bonus.
Feeling a surge of determination, you gather your resolve to face whatever challenges lie ahead, knowing that you now have a unique ally on your side, even if he exists only in paint and imagination.
"Now the problem is..i don't know when he's gonna become real!" You cried out, frustration evident in your voice.
"Please please become real in the morning till evening! Not in the night please please please!" You beg in front of your painting, your desperation palpable.
What a scene it must be, if somebody else were to find you in this position—on your knees, pleading with a two-dimensional figure. They would undoubtedly be puzzled, perhaps even weirded out by the sight.
But you don't care about appearances right now. All that matters is finding a way to ensure your painted lawyer materializes at a time that's most advantageous for you. So you continue to beseech, your words echoing in the quiet of your studio, hoping against hope that somehow, your plea will be heard and answered.
"What are you doing?" You hear someone's voice, and as you turn around, you see Suguru looking at you with a puzzled expression, while Satoru regards you with a mixture of concern and pity.
"Oh no..is she losing her mind?" Satoru expresses his worry, his brow furrowing.
"I think she is." Suguru agrees, his tone tinged with a hint of amusement.
You flush with embarrassment, realizing how bizarre your actions must appear to them. But you don't know how to explain yourself, especially considering the circumstances. All you can do is hope they won't judge you too harshly for your desperate attempt to summon a painted lawyer to aid in your defense.
You quickly get up, trying to conceal the painting behind your body, although it's barely covered.
"You guys are surprising me! Don't show up like that!" you exclaim, feeling caught off guard.
"And so are you. Besides, why are you hiding it behind you? The canvas is way bigger than you." Suguru remarks, his eyes glinting mischievously.
Satoru takes hold of your wrist, his expression one of curiosity mixed with concern.
"What are you trying to hide from me?" he asks, his tone gentle yet probing.
You glance between them, feeling a flush of embarrassment creeping up your neck. How do you explain the bizarre situation you've found yourself in?
Satoru gently pushes you aside to get a better look at the canvas. His eyes widen in surprise as he takes in the figure of another man painted on the canvas. A pang of unease and hurt tightens his chest.
Suguru narrows his eyes, studying the scene with intensity.
"What's the meaning of this? Explain." he demands, his tone icy.
"Are you cheating on us? Are we not good enough for you?" Satoru's voice trembles with a mix of hurt and confusion as he confronts you.
You feel a lump form in your throat as you try to find the words to explain
"Wait, no! I can explain! Please, hear me out! I-I need him!" you plead desperately, feeling the weight of guilt and fear pressing down on you.
"You don't need us anymore?" Satoru's voice cracks with hurt and confusion.
"N-no! T-that's not it! P-please, I just..." Your throat feels dry, your breaths coming in shallow gasps as you struggle to speak. It's all too much, the overwhelming weight of everything that's happened crashing down only in one day.
You break down into sobs, unable to contain the flood of emotions any longer.
Satoru and Suguru rush to your side, their faces filled with concern and apology as they try to comfort you.
"I'm sorry, y/n... Please, just take a breath," Satoru says, squeezing your hands tightly in his.
"Hey, calm down." Suguru murmurs soothingly, gently stroking your cheek in an attempt to calm your trembling.
"Let's talk about this calmly," Suguru interjects, his voice steady despite the tension in the room. He takes a step closer, his eyes soft with concern. "Y/n, we're here for you. Just explain to us what's going on."
Satoru nods, his expression a mix of worry and understanding. "Yeah, we're not going anywhere. You can tell us anything."
You take a shaky breath, trying to compose yourself enough to explain. "I... I made him because... because I didn't know what else to do. I'm in trouble, guys. The police came to my house today... they think I had something to do with my manager's death."
Suguru and Satoru freeze in dread as news of the police's arrival sinks in, a heavy silence enveloping the room. That night, driven by uncontrollable impulses, they acted rashly, blinded by a desire for vengeance. Unbeknownst to them, their actions inadvertently shifted blame onto you, leaving you to bear the weight of their mistake.
As tears continue to stream down your face, they exchange guilt-ridden glances, debating if they should tell you or not.
"Wait a second, Y/n." Suguru interjects, his voice tinged with urgency.
They step away from you, huddling in a corner, frustration evident on Satoru's face.
"What are we going to do?" he mutters in frustration, his mind racing for a solution.
Suguru closes his eyes, grappling with the weight of their actions.
"This is on me. I should have been more professional, ive been doing this for years but my recklessness led to this. I dont know what makes me so uncontrolled that night." he admits, a heavy sigh escaping his lips.
Because it was you.
Satoru look at you who still slump down on the cold floor. He cant seeing you like this it hurts him.
And so Suguru, he put you in danger and he was behind all of this.
"It's not just your fault. We did this to protect her, but we've only made things worse." he insists, his voice filled with remorse.
"We need to clean this for real this time." Suguru agrees, determination flickering in his eyes. Satoru turns to you, resolve in his gaze.
"I'm going to tell her," he declares.
"Wait what?"
Satoru turns back to you, steeling himself for the inevitable confession.
"Y/n... we..." Satoru begins hesitantly, but Suguru interrupts, his voice strained with uncertainty.
"Satoru, don't." Suguru stopped him.
"But i can't lie to her!"
Suguru exhales heavily, rubbing the bridge of his nose in frustration, his eyes filled with remorse.
"Fine."
With a heavy heart, they turn to you, their expressions fraught with sorrow.
"W-what is it?"
"Y/n... we're the one who killed your manager" Satoru confesses, the weight of his words hanging heavily in the air.
The revelation hits you like a sledgehammer, sending shockwaves through your entire being, leaving you feeling as though the ground has been pulled out from beneath you.
"H-huh?"
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Ik this isnt make sense, lets just pretend theres no cctv or they managed to avoid them im literally so dumb😮‍💨
Thanks for the notes, reblogs make me feel more appreaciated<3
Tags: @ceramic-raven @beastofthetrees @r0ckst4rjk @gothiccwhore666 @barryatsumu
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v3nusxsky · 2 days
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Hey hey hey - 🦭
Can you do an Alpha Larissa X Pregnant Omega Reader. Where reader is pregnant with twins one a boy, and the other is girl. And Larissa is proud like a peacock, that she managed to give her mate and wife a litter of two pups when her family was known not to conceive a litter. ( for more that 4 generations they never managed to have litters in their family, and reader broke the curse. )
Babies then are born and Larissa is shocked when her pups are both born with white hair just like hers. Larissa cries to reader in happiness and reader is laughing and showing her family through camera another generation curse broken. ( white hair is very hard for Larissa’s family to conceive, but that genetic inheritance has been shown through generations before it stopped and miraculously Larissa was born with it and now her pups have it. ( Which is a miracle for Larissa’s family.) both families jokingly saying that reader is a miracle worker.
Hope you have a nice weekend Mars!
Blessings
*Authors note~ we interrupt sinful souls for a little fluffy Larissa fic🥹 enjoy y’all I’m burnt out with school work and this little fic is what I managed to create*
Trigger warnings~ pregnancy? Birth? Omegaverse
Prompt~ see ask^^^
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Life with your Alpha is more than you could’ve ever dreamed off, you remember how she found you suffering alone through your first heat, how scared she was to not be able to help. With your past and how Omegas are treated you couldn’t tolerate touch of any kind especially in heat. Your pained whimpers and whines of fear whenever an Alpha was in close proximity to you broke the blondes heart. It was then she realised, you were destined to be her Omega. She didn’t get this way with any of the other Omega staff, just you.
With time and effort from both of you, your Omega called for her to help during your heat about a year later. Now being your Alpha and girlfriend Larissa did everything and anything to ensure your comfort and safety. Time is a great healer of wounds, and with Larissa by your side you finally got to heal. Heat after heat she proved to you she’d be here in whatever way you need and want her. Happy to just cuddle and scent you into a little moment of peace or to give into her wolf and take her Omega.
The little test with the bright blue lines sat on her desk as she went to make her morning tea. After your previous heat, you’d noticed you felt a little differently, some of the older Omega students even noting your scent was off, so naturally you panicked and well. You’re pregnant. It’s not something you’d planned for right now but with that little blue plus starring right at you, you knew that this was the perfect time.
To say Larissa was extatic would’ve been an understatement, the moment she saw that test, you became the most fragile diamond in the world. Larissa always had to be touching you at all times. And when your stomach started to swell? Well, she was always rubbing and holding your stomach as you leant your weight on her. Introducing you as her gorgeous wife to be. She made sure you got every craving, she was there for every appointment, bout of sickness and even the false contractions.
Giving birth that night will forever be a memory. A perfect prince entered the world with a little squeaky squeal of protest, absolutely perfect in every way. Itching to hold your new pup until another sharp contraction hit. Something was wrong. You immediately called for your Alpha in fear, instructing her to be with your son despite how exhausted and terrified you were. And just a few minutes later your daughter arrived. “It’s a girl” was all you remember before blacking out.
“Alpha?” You whined coming back to the world, “where’s baby boy?” You mumbled not even being able to open your eyes yet. “Shh my sweet omega, he’s right here with his sister. You did so good my love. A litter of pups. So beautiful” she whispered eyes never leaving the sleeping infants. “Two?!” You mumbled trying to sit up despite the strong aftershocks of giving birth to two babies, “I thought I imagined her.”
Only when you held your daughter in your arms did you finally believe it. You’d given your Alpha a litter. Knowing the family history for Larissa it’s unheard of to have a litter. No wonder Larissa is grinning from ear to ear. Only then did you realise you hadn’t been able to dress the pups in their outfits, thank god for getting one for each gender! Larissa gently taking your daughter as you undressed your son.
“Sweet girl? She-“ happy tears trailed down Larissa’s cheeks as she spotted the Snow White curls on your daughter’s head. Larissa didn’t know where her hair colour came from, no one else living in the family had it, yet here her baby girl was with the same stunning feature. “Alpha” you murmured taking your son’s little hat off to show the same coloured hair. “Y/n! They are perfect. Your perfect. My perfect darling Omgea”, your precious litter completing your family was all so perfect.
Larissa’s aunt couldn’t wait to meet the pups, your family stood with her as they all awaited the new arrivals. Larissa, proud as ever carried both car seats into Nevermore, got you settled on the sofa with both babies in your arm, water in your favourite flask at your side. “Theodore Rodwell James, this is your family baby boy, our sweet prince” you murmured happily allowing your mother to hold her grandson. “And this beauty is Isla Arwen Saige, our little surprise” you murmured before handing her off to Larissa’s aunt. “Auntie look at her hair” Larissa prompted unable to wipe the smug smile off her face. The shock around the room being nothing but a beautiful buzz as both babies were passed around the family and congratulations given to the new mothers.
“Two curses broken, what a little miracle worker you are dear” your mother teased before pressing a sweet kiss on your cheeks. “M sweet girl?” Larissa murmured after taking a seat next you. “Alpha?” Was all you offered as you lulled your head to rest on her shoulder. “My darling omega, thank you for this blessing”
Word count~906
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junggunz · 1 day
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5 | 🔞
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summary: Jay Jo tutors you for an extra hour. wc: 2.2k cw: fembodied!reader, smut, university!au, tutor!jay jo, reader tests Jay's patience fr, oral (m receiving), facial cum shot, light degradation, spanking, p in v, all characters featured are 18+ an: since the prompt list had two different number 5's, NATURALLY i picked the one i've been thinking about for agesss.
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“First, differentiate this part here…(-S)2 is equal to C2+S2…” Jay explains, using his pen to circle the components of the number expression you were currently working on.
Sitting beside each other in the library, knees brushing against each other every so often, you were growing antsy. It's hard trying to stay focused when all these equations are starting to look the same. And not to mention, your tutor is looking extra attractive today. But maybe that was just because of the residual tension lingering from your last tutoring session.
“Didn’t I tell you to stop interrupting me when I’m trying to teach you something?” Jay says through gritted teeth, his patience long gone after hearing you complain about being bored one too many times. 
You insulted his teaching skills, which led to him getting up to leave. Truly fed up with your poor attitude because it was your grades, not his, that needed help; he only offered to tutor you for the extra credit. You’re ready to let him walk out on you until you remember that he’s the only one who had an open schedule and was down to study with you at any time of day as long as you gave him heads up. Now desperate, you begged him to stay. Unmoved by your pleas, Jay tells you to give him one good reason to deal with you. 
And that’s how you ended up in this position.
Half past midnight on a Saturday, the library was sparsely populated. At least one person had fallen asleep with their face in a textbook. Aside from the three other people in the entire building, it's a ghost town. Not very many people want to pass up the Saturday parties when they can just cram on Sunday. Jay uses the lack of potential spectators to his advantage, making a mess of your mouth. There's no need to be sneaky or secretive if there's no one to witness the lewd dalliance of you and Jay.  Ducked under one of the tables at the library, knees digging into the scratchy carpet while Jay kept a firm hand on the back of your head; bobbing you along his cock leisurely. 
“I guess it’s true. Dumb sluts like you always give the best head.” He murmured softly, the faintest of smirks tugging at his lips as he watched your lips move up and down his shaft.
It doesn’t take long for your jaw to start aching from how wide you have to open your mouth to take him. Even with the slow pace he was fucking your mouth, you  gagged and sputtered every time the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat. 
 With the deep strokes he gives, your drool gathers in your cheeks and slosh around with each push of his shaft until it trickles down the sides of your mouth. The way one of your soft hands squeeze and fondle his balls with your saliva acting as a lubricant, Jay is very much tempted into spilling his load down your throat. God knows he’s been craving this type of release for ages. But with how warm and slick your mouth is around him, he really doesn’t want the feeling to wane. 
Caught between a rock and a hard place, sweat beaded along Jay’s hairline, his teeth gnawed at the inside of his lower lip, and he kept your hair in a vice grip. The longer he held off, the more desperate your actions would become. Nastily slurping up the mixture of precum and your spit that covers his shaft, using your tongue to massage the underside of his cock and trace along each of the pulsing veins, and even going as far to flick your tongue across the seam of his balls whenever you deepthroated him; it seemed like you were getting a point of wanting Jay to cum more than anything. 
Jaw feeling like it was locked open for him to use, you looked up at Jay with glossy eyes, silently pleading for his climax. Desperation is cute on you—at least Jay thinks so, and wanting to take in the expression on your teary face, it makes the perfect incentive for him to hold out longer. Reaching down with the hand that wasn’t tangled in your hair, Jay yanks down the neckline of your shirt. Stretching out the soft fabric, he can slip his hand into one of the cups of your bra, roughly pinching your nipple. The tender flesh of your breast is used like a stress ball for Jay; his palm squeezing harder every time you hollow your cheeks around his cock. 
It would be a bold faced lie to say that you never imagined yourself kneeling in the library with your tits spilling out, sucking someone off all in the name of saving your grade. But with Jay Jo of all people? Jay was just some quiet nerd to you. You were confident he wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to get his dick sucked if you offered. However, that was the only correct assumption you made. He wasn’t as shy as you expected. He wasn’t awkward. And he definitely wasn’t small.
His cock felt so heavy against your tongue. You felt the true weight of it when he pulled it out of your mouth to slap against your cheek. Just the sound of his shaft making contact with your face renders your mind completely vacant. And that’s exactly how Jay wanted you. He doesn’t wanna see any semblance of a thought when you’re sucking him off; you need to save the thinking for when he was actually trying to teach you a lesson.  
Deciding that he’s deprived himself of his release long enough, he guided your hand with his own to stroke his cock at the exact pace and grip he liked. Not even giving you a warning, all you saw was blurry white ribbons flying toward you before you felt warmth dripping down your face. Even in this situation, Jay’s expression was indifferent as usual albeit his flushed cheeks and labored breathing. It was only after he pulled up his pants and handed you some tissues before leaving, you were able to tell if he enjoyed this encounter.
“Same time, next week. Bring your last exam with you.”
“Jay, we’ve done so much tonight already. My brain feels like it’s gonna explode if I look at any more numbers.” You whine, laying your head down on the cool surface of the wooden table. “Can we end the tutoring session? Or at least take a break?” 
“If you start slacking now, you’re not gonna be ready for finals at the end of the term.” He reminds you, using that same vacant tone he spoke with all the time. 
Maybe if he was just a little more expressive, you’d feel more encouraged to power through the rest of your study session. You definitely felt more encouraged after last week. Jay wasn’t the type to make a big deal out of it, but he did acknowledge the six point increase on your quiz scores.
“At least I’m passing the class now! That deserves some sort of reward.” You insist, looking at him with puppy eyes. 
Seeing that your focus had been disrupted since the beginning of the session, Jay relents. 
“Fine, my reward will be helping you correct all the points you missed on your last quiz.” 
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Initially, when you hear his proposal, you’re ready to complain and fuss. But when Jay starts packing up his things and telling you to do the same, you’re quick to shove your notebook and pencils into your bag so you could trail after him. 
Now, in the privacy in his dorm, you find yourself in yet another situation you couldn’t have foreseen. In Jay’s bed. Naked from the waist down. Settled on his lap with his cock deep inside of you but unmoving while he looked over your most recent exam. One of his hands held the neatly stapled set of pages while the other rested on the apex of your thigh.
“Didn’t I tell you how to solve these kinds of problems last time I saw you?” Jay scolds you as he looks over the first section of the questions you missed. “You did these problems just fine during our review session. How come you missed them?”
“Aah…I forgot a step of the formula.” You mumble in a wavering voice, struggling to refrain from rocking your hips against his. 
“You should have that formula drilled into that pretty little head of yours by now.” He tells you sternly. “Lift your ass up.”
Obliging to his demand, you pick up your hips until only half his shaft remains inside of you. With your eyes focused on Jay’s stony expression, you don’t notice his hand coming off your thigh until he brings it down on your ass; slapping you hard and making you whine. 
“Question 13 is the same. I even went over this one with you.” Jay murmurs, eyes scanning over your work shown and scoffing at the little mistakes.
“I forgot…” You mumble which earns you another mean spank to your ass. 
Flipping through the rest of your test, Jay does reward you for your good work; letting you bounce yourself up and down on his cock like the needy slut you are. Your walls are slick and hot around him, dangling the idea of forgetting about your test corrections right in front of his face. As much as he wants to lose himself in the feeling of your pussy hugging him so tightly, he can’t. For just a few minutes, Jay allows himself to focus on how hot and wet you are for him. 
That is, until he comes across another incorrect question. Immediately, he demands that you stop moving, giving your already burning ass cheeks several more slaps until you heed to his command. Manhandling you onto your back and telling you to hold your legs apart from him. Giving you only shallow thrusts, he reads off another problem you missed points. 
You look up at Jay with a glassed over expression, trying to focus on him to explain where you went wrong but all that fills your mind is the sensation of your walls clenching around his dick and trying to lure him deeper into your heat. The hand that wasn’t holding your paper menacingly lifts up, hovering above your already stinging ass as Jay asks you what the correct answer is. And now, you’re racking your brain, trying to remember what he said about solving that particular problem.
“Is the rational value negative two?” You ask in a small voice, already squeezing your eyes shut and trying to brace yourself for the repercussion of getting a question incorrect.
“Good job.” Jay tells you, awarding you another spank that’s not as harsh as all the previous ones. 
And then, your position changes again. After listening to him lecture you about everything you did wrong on your test, it’s time to actually make the corrections. Now laying flat on your stomach with your test in front of you and a pen in one hand, Jay fucks you from behind. Holding himself above you, his attention is split between rutting into you hard and watching you shakily redo each equation. 
“You’re too slow.” Jay grunts out, the tip of his cock meanly pressing against your sweet spot as you struggle to scrawl out any semblance of a number. “You can’t spend too long on a single problem.”
“But-” You start to whine out, trying to reason that during a real math quiz, you wouldn’t have him rearranging your guts and making it hard to focus. 
Alas, Jay wasn’t hearing it and only slams harder into that extra soft area deep within your walls, causing you to nearly drop your pen. Your handwriting is scratchy and shaky, looking more akin to a toddler’s work when it’s next to your usually legible print. Taking in a shuddering breath, you grip your pen tighter; desperate to prove to Jay that this kind of tutoring was the only way you could work with him. And the only way to do that was to actually work on your test corrections.
Unlike you, Jay is a very talented multitasker. He has no problem looking over your shoulder while you struggle to scrawl out your work on the page due to the way he was roughly slamming into you from behind. 
“I shouldn’t have to remind you about the order of operations.” He murmurs in your ear, thrusts barely slowing down even as he chides you when you neglect the numbers you had just rewritten in parentheses. 
“For fucks sake…” You mutter under your breath, trying to collect your thoughts for long enough to correct your mistake while also keeping back the moans that were tickling the back of your throat.
It’s funny to Jay; the way you’re able to remember to keep your ass up and back arched so he could fuck you deeper without him ever needing to tell you in the first place, but after weeks of him telling you the same fundamental math principles over and over, the material just wouldn’t stick. But could he blame you? His cock was hitting all the right places and you simply couldn’t get enough of it. Meanwhile, math was a subject you absolutely detested.
With the way things were going, it was going to be a long review session; but totally worth it if all the ones after this would be the same. 
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dangerpronebuddie · 2 days
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Fuck It Friday!!
Tagged by @tizniz @thekristen999 both of whom shared fics I cannot wait to read!! (And probably cry through 😁) 🩵💜
I have three more kiss prompts I'm working on, but since I already posted two and another whole fic this week, I'm trying to pace myself lol. We're all back in our shooting era (I never left 😅) so I'm hoping to get Eddie's second oh moment finished soon. I wrote this last night half asleep. Does it make sense? You tell me:
Loving Buck grew over time, like a vine in his chest, curling around his ribs and beneath his sternum to cradle his heart. The flowers bloomed before he even knew the vine was there. And now that he knows, now that he wants to feel the softness of the petals every time Buck's shoulder brushes his own, or admire the bright blooms every time Buck smiles- now that he knows he loves Buck, he can't. When he first met Buck, there might've been something there. Not exactly attraction, but… curiosity? Something about Buck made Eddie want to be close to him. And then they could've died together and Buck stepped into that ambulance with him without a second thought. Eddie was struggling to find help for Christopher, and too afraid to ask for it, but Buck brought him Carla without feeling like he had to ask. Then Shannon came back, and the vine that had been in his chest since they were kids came back to life and bloomed into bright yellow flowers he wanted to nurture and protect forever. Forever doesn't last long. So much happened in such a short time after that. The bombing, a tsunami, Chris' nightmares, Eddie's bruises. And a lawsuit that kept Buck separated from them. Maybe that's when the vine first started growing, trying to reach out of his chest in hopes of pulling Buck back. They had just lost Shannon, and the only other person Eddie wanted- needed- cut himself off. When they finally mended fences, the vine started growing again, and bloomed with blue flowers as bright as Buck's eyes even as they were splashed with blood. The shocked look on Buck's face flashes through Eddie's mind and he snaps his book shut as a reflex. Hen looks over at him from where she's sprawled across the other armchair. “What's wrong?” she asks. “You look like you saw a ghost.” Eddie glances around to see Buck and Chim both looking his way now. Fuck.
Absolutely no pressure tagging: @13shadesofanni @lover-of-mine @monsterrae1 @loveyouanyway
@daffi-990 @wikiangela @exhuastedpigeon @actuallyitsellie
@spagheddiediaz @theotherbuckley @wildlife4life @hippolotamus
@diazsdimples @steadfastsaturnsrings @ronordmann @fortheloveofbuddie
@bidisasterevankinard @rainbow-nerdss @kitteneddiediaz @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove
@daniwib @shipperqueen6 @lunarspark-cos @likeamollusconarock
@idealuk @lin27 @misshiss727 @jshadow01
@smallandalmosthonest @weareallstoriesintheend11 @orangeboxfox92 and anyone else who wants to share!! 🩷🥰
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nakunakunomi · 3 days
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speeding for more Nanami goods
Hazel, to the previous one, could I add him with prompts 4, 5 or 1, pretty please? 👀🙏
I see so many jujugoods on the list, I'm already so excited!
This event is what got me back into writing a little. I have A LOT of JJK on my brain right now it's 90% Geto, I have no excuses. So I am more than happy to provide some Jujugoods! First one for the event is Nanami, and this one came out pretty sweet. Hope you enjoy!
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☁️ Pillow talk event - Masterlist ☁️ Prompt: “Sorry for the cuddling. I’m usually not that clingy.” Character: Nanami Kento x GN reader (no pronouns or genitals mentioned) ⋆˖⁺‧₊☽ Suggestive content | Minors DNI | Fluff ☾₊‧⁺˖⋆
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You had your arms wrapped around Nanami's broad chest, tracing figures on his arms. You were resting your head, feeling your breathing slow down and even out -you had been completely out of breath mere minutes ago. 
You listened to the sound of his heartbeat, the rhythmic pounding a soothing melody, only helping you further to relax. You let out a content sigh, almost as if to start a conversation, but you weren't quite sure what to say. You wanted to soak in the atmosphere and enjoy the post-sex bliss just a little longer. You had felt a connection to Kento unlike any other before. Usually, after an encounter such as this one, you would be getting up, ready for a shower and the rest of your day. But now, you just wanted to stay, hold him, caress him and cherish him. And this had all led to the apologies that came from your lips: 
“Sorry for the cuddling. I’m usually not that clingy.”
He chuckled, a deep rumble in his chest that you could feel on your cheek, the arm wrapped around you tightening a little bit more. He wasn't super talkative, not in the bedroom, nor outside of it; but he still humored you with a response. 
"Don't apologize. I am happy to be here with you. There is no rush, we have no plans." 
Sweet, yet practical. That was the man you had fallen in love with. And he was right: there was nothing going on, you had the rest of the day for the both of you. You could perfectly cherish the moment, and you would probably do so. You would soon get up, maybe get a shower together, and then get some food. 
But for now, you would enjoy his presence, his scent, his steady heartbeats and his breathing. You would be tracing figures on his arms and chest with your fingertips, muscles sometimes twitching slightly in response to your featherlight touches. You would feel the soft pressure of a kiss being pressed to the crown of your head, a soft wordless gesture of affection, so full of love, and it would make your heart soar. 
You readjusted your pose, snuggling even closer -as far as that was possible- and wrapped one of your legs around him. You relished in the feeling of your bare skin on his, even if the readjusting took some effort -remnants of sweat, and others, had made your skin a little sticky. 
You felt your heartbeat slow down, almost matching his, and you noticed your breathing had completely evened out, your body fully recovered -for now, you were sure you would be sore tomorrow. 
You turned your head slightly, pressing a kiss to his chest, and then closed your eyes, laying down again. This wasn’t a one time thing, this wasn’t a singular encounter. No, this felt like the start of something more than that. You were eager to see where this would go, though for now, you would just relish in the moment.
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phoebepheebsphibs · 14 hours
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What does the bad timeline au look like for your boys 👀
OOOOH, here we go!
(So, I did hint to this in the NFIF/UIFY Crossover when DvD met Omega, and Omega ran a simulation to see what DvD's future would be like. It was a general explanation, but I'm gonna go deeper into detail now --)
2020: So, first off, the Krang attack in 2020, same as in canon. Leon, 'Phael, Mikey, and DvD manage to survive the invasion by some miracle. For the first year, they just focus on staying alive and hidden from the aliens, but by the end of that first year the reunite with April and their friends and discover the beginnings of the Resistance. (Karai was separated from them all as well, but no one has seen her yet and so they all assume she's dead.)
2023-2025: Several years pass, and there is still no sign of Karai. While the boys are out doing a supply raid, they get ambushed by a Krang attack and are caught in a collapsing building. 'Phael freezes in panic and Leon takes a hit to rescue him, though the two are trapped in rubble together as they wait for Mikey and DvD to dig them out. However... Leon doesn't have that long, and encourages Raph as the leader of their family to stay strong and take care of Mikey and Donnie and April and everyone else...
Leo dies, having saved Raphael.
2025-2030: The three mourn their brother, but do their best to help lead the Resistance. In 2026, Cass gives birth to a son, and 'Phael helps her to raise the child. However, during these five years, tragedy strikes again. Michelangelo's hypoglycemia has been acting up due to the low rations, and in spite of their promptings to take care of himself, Mikey has been intentionally skipping meals so the others can take his rations, effectively starving himself. That, coupled with the injuries he gets from his ninpo overdrive, finally takes its toll on his frail body.
Mikey starves to death.
2030-2035: After Mikey's death, Donnie and Raph have a hard time staying cheerful. And to add to the grief, Cassandra dies in battle as well. But some good comes to light, as the group receives word of a lone stranger roaming New York and saving survivors while battling the Krang. After investigating, they discover that Karai has survived and become something of a folk hero! She joins their Resistance, bringing her own group of survivors with her. During this time, Raphael has grown to be a force to be reckoned with, and even the leader of the Resistance! Donatello is working around the clock to create weapons and grow nutritional, non-contaminated plants that they can eat safely. It's hard work, but no one said the end of the world was easy. DvD discovers a formula and equation that may work for time-travel, but he is unsure... he starts to build the machine.
2035-2044: The Resistance is not looking good. They can barely go above ground anymore without being picked off and slaughtered. The food and supplies are running low. 'Phael realizes that the end is coming, and there may be no escape. He has Donnie work full-time on the time machine, as it is their last hope. The Resistance grows smaller and smaller with each passing month, until it seems like it's just Raph, DvD, April, Karai, and Casey Jones Jr., along with a few special people like Big Mama Frida Kahlo. Finally, in 2044, the Krang find their hideout and begin to slaughter the last of the Resistance. Raph has CJ and Donnie evacuate into the labs with the time machine, and while Raph holds them off, Donnie begins to power the machine with his ninpo and what little electricity they have left. Raph instructs Casey on what to do, that he's sending him back in time -- not necessarily to stop the Krang, but more importantly to save Casey from the attack. If nothing else, Casey must survive. If Raph can do nothing else but make sure that his boy sees a world without war, where he is healthy... that will be enough for him. That will redeem his mistakes, how he let his brothers die because of his failures and fear. Casey has to live. He tells him to find his family, warn them, and to find his sister as well, because she -- Suddenly the Krang break into the room, and Casey is thrown into the time machine. Dee's ninpo goes into overdrive and powers the machine, though it costs him his life. Raph manages to hold the Krang off until the machine does it's duty, and then...
Raph and Donnie die sending Casey Jones Jr. into the past.
And yes, I did cry writing this.
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coldflashevents · 1 day
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COLDFLASH WEEKEND IS HERE
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Hello all, and welcome to the first Coldflash event of 2024!
Our first event of the year is a mini weekend event in which everyone can share fanworks based on a selection of prompts chosen by all of you!
Fan art, fanfiction, moodboards, playlists, gifsets, videos, edits... all contributions are welcome and we are so happy to have you :D
As a quick reminder, the prompts for this events are as follows:
Day 1:
I thought I lost you
Secret relationship
Day 2:
Time travel shenanigans
Accidental dating/didn’t know they were dating
Bonus Prompt (post on either day):
Alternate Earths
I'm also pleased to announce that the AO3 collection for the event is now open, and can be accessed here! Remember to share your works to the collection (if you'd like) so we can all see them and enjoy.
The tag for the event is #cfjune24, so remember to tag all your creations (and if you could tag us @coldflashevents that would also be super helpful—we want to make sure we don't miss any of your hard work!)
We also request that you use appropriate tags for any potentially sensitive/triggering content (things like nsfw, self harm, suicide, graphic depictions of violence, etc.)
Myself and the other mods will be here reblogging and sharing your creations all weekend, and we're very excited to get started!
So without further ado... happy coldflashing! :D
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goddess-of-green · 1 day
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BotW Link Being a Quiet (and Sleepy) Drunk
(A/N:) Playing TotK and immediately my soul is being recaptured by Linky Winky
(Edit:) This draft is almost a year old! I started it the day TotK came out, lol
Contains: GN!Reader, could be interpreted as either botw or totk link, him being CUTE
Word Count: 474
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Link's face pressed into the crook of your neck, having migrated a bit since he'd put his head on your shoulder earlier in the evening.
You smiled and lightly stroked his hair, which earned you a hum--the vibrations of which you could feel in your neck.
It wasn't like Link wasn't affectionate, he was incredibly affectionate when he's certain it's not unwanted. However, even with your constant prompting and encouragement for him to be more open with his displays of affection, he still always kept a respectful distance when you were around others.
You didn't take it personally, you knew it was just the way he was; and a part of you liked that his affection was reserved for just the two of you--that you were the only one who got to see him like that.
Still, that wasn't to say that you didn't like when Link was more open about his love for you, which was something often brought out by inebriation.
He's a quiet drunk, just as he is sober, and one might not think he's affected much at all by the alcohol, but you can tell.
You can see how his eyes linger on you for longer than usual, notice the clinginess that usually comes with him being in that state. And one thing that you loved was how he became more vocal.
Yes, he was a quiet drunk, but less quiet than when he is sober; and you relish in his soft sighs and hums as he nuzzles into your neck, unbothered by the presence of the others.
Zelda smiled at the sight of you two, but the others didn't seem to take notice. Sidon and Yunobo were in deep conversation, while Riju was idly talking about jewelry to Zelda.
Link wrapped an arm around your waist, hand settling on your hip. He seemed intent on keeping his face in your neck, and you recalled him once telling you that you always smelled good.
"Hmm..." Link sighed, squeezing your hip. You continued to stroke his hair.
Even though he became more daring when he was drunk, he'd still never touch you in a sexual way in even a semi-public context. You knew he just wanted to be closer to you. (Sometimes you wondered in amusement, if Link would attach himself to you, given the opportunity.)
Link looked sleepier than anything, and you brushed gently along his ears, coming to a decision.
"Everyone, it's been amazing to meet with you all and catch up, but I think it's about time we turn in for the night." You smiled, helping Link up, who neglected to let go of you. Whether due to trouble keeping upright or simply a desire to touch you, you didn't know.
Not that it really mattered. All you were worried about now was getting your boy to bed. 
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