The issue of power is so interesting (or something) to see because yes, from an economic perspective Taylor undoubtedly has more sway -- she's one of the most famous people on the planet, she's a billionaire, her every move is followed, etc. So I can almost sort of understand the concern, in another scenario, where some people may expect that she could crush her detractors (For instance, I'm thinking about how Harvey W. silenced his victims as a Hollywood mogul, or how corporate titans silence whistleblowers which I feel are analogies some people may turn to. Or maybe we've all just watched too much of the Roys on Succession.)
I said this in the tags of a post the other day I think, but I think some of the discourse is kind of conflating power with platform. And yes, Taylor undoubtedly has a bigger platform, again by virtue of her fame and position in the media/industry. But part of that is that she's visible in these areas, and her presumed subjects aren't, of their own choice. If any of these subjects ever chose to spoke out, or make art based on their experiences, or pursue opportunities in the media/public eye, they would absolutely be given a platform for it. (Going way back, think of how JM used the media to give his side of the story through his music and his interviews after their split. And I'd argue he was probably way more public/direct about it than she ever was.)
If any of these people decided they wanted their side of the story out there, it would be and it would absolutely be turned into a story. (And arguably that may already be starting but that's a whole other thing.) And this is just my opinion, but given that the subjects of these topics are often privileged white men, I'd argue that their sides tend to carry (more) weight regardless of their economic status in relation to her. If JM or JG or JA or HS wrote a book or a song or a script about their experiences, even only insinuating about her, it'd be the conversation. And not to be a cupcake about it, but the media seems to always want to find something to knock her down a peg about (which, sure, journalism's job is to hold people accountable, but that's not what always happens here and we know it), so they would absolutely give this the time of day, if they chose to put anything out there.
The thing is, I do see in a superficial way that there is there is a clear difference in their socioeconomic/celebrity status, and perhaps that's perceived as a power imbalance, but that's implying that she's dictating a whole host of entities out of her control, and I just don't think she holds the sway of those that some feel she does. Don't get me wrong, she's absurdly wealthy and has influence, but so do so many other people around her, including those who don't support her. (That's the wrong word for it, but I just mean, people who aren't in her circle/sympathetic to her.) And as I've posted about so so so many times before, THESE OTHER PEOPLE (men) ARE WEALTHY AND IN THE PUBLIC EYE TOO. They are all in careers that entail celebrity and involve their own influence in the media. These are not shrinking violets in private civil life who are like, grocery store checkout clerks. They're actors and musicians and media personalities who play the same game. And even the "poorest" of these subjects for the most part are millionaires who are far, far wealthier than any of us will ever be in our lifetimes. They may choose to stay off of social media or the press when it suits them, but they could absolutely make art or give interviews about their experiences and they would command their own kind of influence. (I'd also argue that they would be given a platform thanks to Taylor's platform, but that's another thing.)
I don't want to dismiss the influence of her wealth and stature in the entertainment industry, and I feel like that's kind of where the perceived "imbalance" comes from, but to be frank, I feel like if any of these other subjects spoke out, the media would be so quick to raise their stature in the press for the sake of clicks/controversy/what have you. Critics claim that Taylor can crush any story or person who goes against her, but I think given the breadth of stories out there about her at any given time (the NYT op ed, the jet stuff, the DM stuff, etc.) I don't think that's true; I think the publicity/clicks outlets get for covering stuff, even if salacious, outweighs any concerns over upsetting her or burning bridges. (Not saying that may have not happened, but... I think it would be more obvious if it were a regular occurrence these days.) If anything, 2016 through rep kinda proves that she doesn't have the "control" of the media that some claim she does.
But most importantly, THE ALBUM ISN'T OUT YET. WE DON'T KNOW WHAT THE LYRICS ARE. Taylor gets accused of writing diss tracks, but she rarely does, and I don't think she's written an outright callout song since her Fearless/Speak Now days when she was a teenager/very young adult. Just about everything since Red on has been about her own feelings, experiences, etc. and not a literal "you did x and y and z and you're stupid and i hate you" song. She's not calling people out by name, and truly only chronically online fans are going to deduce who songs are about; five years from now, people discovering the music will just know they're bops (or depressingly sad breakup songs, as the case may be).
I don't know where I'm going with this, i'm talking in circles, it's just interesting how things are being interpreted or assumed so far. I fully acknowledge I'm a cupcake so I'm generally not going to jump to the worst conclusion about Taylor, but there's also curious sociological/gender stuff happening in these conversations. I absolutely think that if the roles were reversed and her exes were billionaire household names and she was an indie artist, nobody would ever talk about power dynamics. I think it's all moot because like so many people have said, I don't think the album is going to be what some think it's going to be, and I think it's going to be way more introspective/vulnerable/dark than what they assume a breakup album is going to be, though obviously I don't know anymore than they do. It's just funny because you never hear about this with other people. (Like, was there a big fuss when Kelly Clarkson wrote a breakup album about her ex-husband? I know she's not as wealthy as Taylor and her ex was probably wealthier than Taylor's exes, but she's someone with sway in the industry and is on TV everyday, but everyone kind of said "lol her ex was a jackass wow she writes sad banger ballads" and moved on.)
Anyway I don't want to start shit or anything, but I'm just giving my two cents about my observations of the whole media landscape stuff.
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fnaf: supposed to be a horror franchise yadda yadda scary. but I want pizzaplex au where the place doesnt get absolutely ruined (ha..) and we get bonnie back and its all fine :) mr steel wool please.
YEAHH I want it so bad please I want them all to be okay and just live life… need to draw more happy things with them to fill the void in my heart 💔
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me livestreaming the ohio senate in the minutes leading up to a vote that will determine whether or not gender affirming care is outright banned for minors: this is the bad place
"It also prevents doctors from prescribing hormones, puberty blockers or gender reassignment surgery before patients turn 18" per the Cincinnati Enquirer.
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can you make a fix of cod guys reaction to you getting into an argument with them, which causes us to flinch and cover our face from any impact because we had an abusive ex.
featuring Ghost, Price, Soap, Gaz, Konig, & Alejandro
⊹ cod men x gn!reader
[ warnings ] domestic violence implications
cod masterlist
Ghost
He’d run his hand through his hair if he didn’t have this bloody mask on. Ghost looked down at you, his eyes narrowing in and scrutinizing your every minute detail. You tried to glare back, but you were feeling rather small with the weight of his disappointed glower.
“You’ve got t’be more careful,” his voice boomed, though he was trying to keep it at a normal level.
“I know, I’m sorry—”
“Sorry isn’t gonna cut it when you get someone killed,” he growled, taking a step in, closing the space between the two of you.
You stepped back on instinct and bumped into the wall—trapped. You suddenly felt trapped. You knew that logically he wouldn’t hurt you, but something about his pissed-off demeanor and towering frame triggered something in you. Your breathing increased exponentially and Ghost watched helplessly as your chest rose and fell in rapid beats.
A bit taken aback by your response, Ghost raised a hand to grab your shoulder and you turned your head and shied away. You let out a small gasp as if waiting for him to land a blow on you.
You squeezed your eyes shut, the entire moment passing by excruciatingly slow. That’s when you knew you fucked up. Ghost dropped his hand and his fist clenched, putting everything together all at once. Something inside him broke seeing you look at him like that—with fear in your eyes. It fucking hurt.
“M’not gonna hurt you,” he said in a much softer tone than earlier. He’d never lay a hand on you, even out of love, if you didn’t want it.
You blinked rapidly, forcing yourself to look up at him, your face inflamed. “I-I know. I didn’t… I don’t know why…” The words got lost in your throat. You were so embarrassed.
“Who?” He asked sharply.
You tilted your head, your hands squeezing at your sides. Ghost took a step back to give you room, though he wanted nothing more than to step into you closer, to pull you against him. He didn’t care how annoyed he was with you, all that drifted away, unimportant nonsense he’d come back to later.
“ Who… ?” You repeated.
“Who. Hurt. You?” He bent over slightly, aligning his face with yours as he talked, making sure you couldn’t turn your face away from him.
“J-Just an ex-boyfriend. It’s not a big deal. I don’t know why I responded like that. I-I know you wouldn’t hurt me.”
Ghost sighed, his eyes dancing between yours. “No. I wouldn’t.” His voice was dark and deep again. “But I have nothin’ against hurtin’ that bastard.”
“Ghost, please.”
He straightened and rolled his shoulders, trying to suppress the bubbling anger. He looked down at you at last. “Can I touch you?” He asked softly.
You nodded, tears falling down your cheeks now. He tentatively took a step towards you and pulled you into his arms. He wrapped them securely around you and you nuzzled your face into his jacket. If he wasn’t so shocked over the way you responded to him, he’d be yelling at you to tell you who it was that hurt you so he could hunt them down.
Instead, he clutched you close to him, trying not to think about the fear that crossed your eyes, even if it was momentarily. Even if it wasn’t because of him. He never wanted you to look at him like that again. Something rotten tugged at his heart as he felt you try to stifle your cries. Oh, he was definitely going to kill that bastard. And he was going to make it slow and painful.
Price
You chased after Price as he made his way down the hall. “I swear I didn’t mean to—!”
He cut you off, spinning on his heels, making you bump into his chest and slam to a halt. “It doesn’t matter what you meant !” He yelled, losing his composure briefly.
You flinched at his loud words, stepping away from him. It was a quick movement, a subtle tick of your face, your eyes squinted as you pulled your head away. You acted like this was something you were all too familiar with.
Immediately Price’s anger shifted away from you and onto whatever bastard trained you to cower.
His widened eyes traced your face and you slowly read his expression as he came to the realization of why you would flinch away from him when he shouted. You watched as several emotions crossed Price’s countenance.
His voice was hushed as he edged closer to you, the deep baritone sending a shiver up your spine. “Y’don’t have t’tell me now,” his voice was so low as he spoke. “But you will tell me who, eventually.”
“John, I–”
He was always so gentle with you. But right now, the intense hatred for whoever this bastard was that harmed you, took over. He shook his head and clicked his tongue. “Don’t wanna hear it, doll. You will tell me who did this to you if it’s the last thing I get out of you.”
A wave of heat crossed your cheeks, his eyes boring into yours. You nodded meekly and his face softened. “Com’ere,” he cooed, opening his arms. You stepped into them and were immediately surrounded in the warm comfort Price brought you, one hand rubbing circles on your back and the other sliding up into your hair, tucking your head under his chin.
“S’your not mad at me, anymore?” Your words muffled by his body.
You felt his chest rumble as he spoke. “Could never stay mad at you.”
Soap
“Blood hell,” Soap whined, annoyed with you for hiding the arm wound you got the other day.
“It’s not as serious as it looks,” you tried to convince him, your lips quirking into a weak smile.
He closed his eyes to collect his last remaining patience. “Not serious—” he repeated, his words rising in several octaves as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’ve got twenty stitches in your arm! How the fuck is that not serious?!”
He reached for your arm and you pulled it away, shuddering briefly from the brief touch of his fingertips. The two of you froze, his eyes darting to meet yours the second he saw the shift in your composure.
“Gonna tell me why y’just did that?” He sat still in his seat, trying to steady his voice.
“Did what?” You asked, attempting to play dumb, but the tears were already misting in your eyes.
Soap sighed, his face dropping as he studied you. “Fuckin’ hell,” he said with displeasure. “You shoulda told me. I wouldn’t have—I woulda been more—” He lost his words, watching as a few stray tears fell down your cheeks.
“Hey, hey, hey,” he said softly. His thumb came up to wipe the tears away, his hand then cupping the side of your cheek. “S’okay. M’not mad.” You leaned into his hand.. “Jus’ wish ya woulda told me.” You nodded and he gave you a weak smile.
“Com’on, let’s get that bandage changed.” His voice was gentle as he coaxed you up, wrapping an arm protectively around you as he led you down to the infirmary. You would discuss this later. Right now, all he wanted was to make sure you felt safe in his arms.
Gaz
Gaz wouldn’t say he had anger issues… he just got passionate about the people he cared about, and sometimes that would come out in spurts of angry shouts. What he didn’t expect, was the way you reacted the first time he ever lost his cool in front of you.
“I cannot fuckin’ believe Shepherd,” he growled.
“Maybe we should just focus on the positive,” you said meekly, trying to help calm Gaz down.
“Yeah? And what fuckin’ positive is that?!” He shouted as he paced back and forth. He regretted it the moment it left his lips.
You squeezed your eyes shut at his words and brought your hands up for the briefest of seconds to cover your face.
Gaz whispered your name and you instantly tried to compose yourself. You straightened and gave an awkward smile.
“That wasn’t at you,” he corrected, his eyes deflating as he watched you. “I-I’m sorry. I’d never hurt you,” he said wistfully, running his hand over his hair and cursing. He looked at you completely differently than he had just moments earlier. His entire demeanor shifted. He was suddenly staring at you with such intensity it made something well in your eyes.
“No, Gaz. It’s not you.” That was the last sentence you could get out before the tears escaped. You quickly wiped them away and Gaz stepped towards you, resting both hands on either one of your shoulders.
“Hey,” he said calmly.
You gave him a sideways smile. “It’s just…” you tried to get the words out but they slipped away.
“S’alright. You don’t have to tell me.” His hands slid down your arms, giving you a squeeze before releasing you. “You know I’d never hurt you, right?”
You gave a small laugh. “I know that, Gaz.”
“Good.” He pulled you into his chest without asking, all his anger from earlier transforming into gentleness. “You can tell me when you’re ready,” he said into your hair.
You nodded. “Thank you.” He held you a bit tighter and you closed your eyes in peace. You never wanted him to let go.
König
He was frustrated with the way you were angry at him for insisting he do this mission alone. “You’re gonna get yourself killed!” You argued.
He had enough. He didn’t lose his temper often, but there was no way Konig was allowing you to come on a mission quite this dangerous. He pushed up from his chair, the table in front of him shaking as he did.
He was a big guy, and you knew that, but the way he quickly took up the space of the room amazed you. “Verfickte Hurerei!” Fucking hell! he shouted. “Why are you pressing this so hard?!” He gestured towards you, his fists clenched and you winced. You cowered away, surprising even yourself with your actions.
Konig watched you through his rapid blinking, dumbfounded by what just happened. It took him a second to process.
“Liebling?” He asked his voice back to its usual tone. “I wasn’t going to— fuck . I’m sorry.” A pang of guilt coursed through him. You thought he was going to hit you? Jesus Christ. He wanted to reach out to you but he refrained, knowing that might make things worse.
“Konig,” you whispered and his eyes snapped to yours. He tilted his head, studying you as you regained your composure. “S’not you.” Your words were so faint it hurt his heart a little.
He watched as you wiped away a stray tear. Your body had shifted back to how things used to be. Before Konig.
Your lip quivered and you felt so small and embarrassed. Konig mouthed your name breathlessly and you blinked away tears before closing the distance between the two of you. You practically fell into his arms and he tightened them on you instinctively.
“You okay, liebling?” He cooed, his hand stroking your hair.
You nodded. “M’sorry.”
He pulled back so you had to tilt your chin and look up at him. “Don’t apologize.” His hand came up and stroked your cheek.
“It’s not you,” you tried to reassure again, worried Konig was going to eat himself alive thinking you were afraid of him.
“I know.” Your lips pinched together and Konig pulled you back into him. “You’re safe. You’ll always be safe with me.”
You felt tears fall; not out of terrible memories, but out of the love you felt radiating off of Konig.
Alejandro
“Jesus, would you just listen to me?” You shouted.
“Listen to you?! You haven’t heard a fucking thing I’ve been saying!” He yelled back. His accent was always heavier on his words when he was mad.
He took a big step towards you, his knife still in his hand, covered in blood. You flinched when he approached so suddenly. His dark words and his fast movements made you duck in fear.
Alejandro paused all his movements, startled by your reaction. “Jesus,” he mumbled, sheathing his knife and holding his hands up. “I wouldn’t hurt you, mi amor.” He shook his head in frustration with himself. His jaw clenched as he watched you look back up at him. How awful he felt seeing your beautiful features shrouded in fear.
“I…” you swallowed hard. “I’m sorry. The yelling… I don’t know. It just made me think back to…”
Something inside Alejandro shifted at your faint words. “Mataré a ese bastardo,” I’ll kill that bastard , he growled. “Who was it? Who fuckin’ touched you?”
You shook your head. “Alejandro, please. It was so long ago.”
He clenched his fist, his other hand coming up to the scruff on his jaw. He closed his eyes to try and contain himself. When he opened them, you could still see the darkness lingering behind them. “I don’t care how long ago it was, mi amor. I need you to tell me who it was.”
You frowned and he closed his eyes again before walking up to you and pulling you into his arms. “God. I swear I’ll fuckin’ kill him.”
You let out the softest of giggles at how dramatic he could be. But still, you felt so safe knowing he would go to the ends of the world to protect you. You felt him kiss the top of your head, mumbling something about being sorry for yelling.
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suguru conditioned you to get wet every time he tied his hair up.
over the years he got into the habit of letting his hair relax. he wore it down with the new found confidence that came from your compliments and 'hey handsome's.
the only time he wore his hair in a bun was when he was shirtless between your legs.
if there was one thing he hated it was getting interrupted while he ate. he could allow his hair getting in the way when he was kissing you, holding you close. he liked the feeling of your fingers running across his scalp. he especially liked the tug you gave it when he sucked your nipple into his mouth, tongue laving and circling. a chuckle buzzing through his lips as you arched up into him.
that he could handle, but once he was face to face with your pussy he wouldn't allow it. he'd sit back on his haunches, skillfully gathering his hair into his palms with his thumbs. maybe it was just something about the way he looked down at you, carnally, ready to devour you with no restraint. maybe it was the way you knew he would do just that like he'd done so many times before.
he would run his hands up and down your thighs once his arms dropped to his sides. he'd leave soft kisses against your knee, guiding them down as he laid on his front. if your head wasn't so cloudy you would whine at the shit-eating smirk he wore as he looked at your glistening cunt.
"i haven't done much and you're already this wet?" he'd chuckle softly, so close to your skin that it felt like love wiring running under your skin, your hips bucking up into him. he'd hush you, reassure you that he'd give you everything you needed as he kissed just right above your twitching button.
"always so needy," he commented leaving open mouthed kisses on your outer lips, and though it was meant to come off snarky you couldn't help but keen like it was praise.
the first lick was always mind numbing. you held your breath as you felt his thumbs spread you open, watching his eyes flutter closed as he guided a flat tongue between your folds, the muscle giving your clit a gentle flick before he sucked it into his mouth. it was then you let your breath go, a whiny moan forcing it out.
"mmm," he hummed around you making your legs snap around his head as it shot pleasure down to your toes. "ah, ah, don't interrupt me while i eat, honey," he scolded softly, large hands prying your legs open so he could spread you up and open, pushing your knees to your chest so he could feast uninterrupted.
maybe it was better he kept his hair up despite how much you liked to tug on it. it let him focus in on your pleasure. he took his time, each move slow and calculated. he knew exactly what made your legs shake and what to do when he wanted you to suck in a deep breath, hands shooting up to the sides of your head to grip your pillow for stability.
he'd lightly scrape his nails against the sensitive skin of your thighs as he switched between slow, broad stripes against your clit to lip-bitingly quick flicks with the tip of his tongue. he'd bob his head, the gentle suck on your bud a tantalizing combo with the way the muscle swirled around it.
"so good, can't get enough of you," he'd sigh as he dropped down to your hole, gently kissing your clenching entrance before pushing his tongue in as deep it could go. he moaned at the way you twitched around him, hot and wet on his tongue.
he'd reach a hand up so his thumb could toy with your clit as he drank down your juices, steadily tongue-fucking you until your climax.
when you got your vision back there he was again, looking down at you with carnal desire, biceps bulging as he scooped his hair up into a secure bun once more, because he was definitely far from done with you.
A/N : i may have gotten carried away, i was about to go to sleep... and this was so not planned, I was supposed to write cute headcanons of how the jjk men start your apples for you. anyway I hope you enjoyed, reblogs and comments are always appreciated
j‹𝟹
jjk men x reader masterlist
mdni banner by hitobaby
drip divider
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Don’t Call Him Jealous
—
Time written-6:10 p.m.
Jason Todd/fem!reader smut (I’m on mobile so image is huge, but c’mon it’s Jason. Take him in)
—
“Look at that, babe,” His hot, erotic rumble roared your heart into an irritating, intense drum in your chest, heating up the tips of your ears.
“It’s crying for me, begging me to have a taste.”
Hungry eyes kept an intense focus on the mirror in front of you both, the hardwood floor pooling with your arousal. He held both your legs junction over his propped up knees, keeping you spread open for his viewing pleasure alone.
Your bare chest heaved with sweat, perky nipples heavily flushed from countless pinches in between his thumbs. Repeated begs for him to slow down to give you an ounce of a break fell on deaf ears, a forearm secured between the valley of your tits, grasping you close as he fucked you with his fingers.
Overstimulation became your toxic lover, sparking you up in pain with the promise of pleasure, quickly following eachother in an endless loop.
Bucking away didn’t help, he’d only hook his fingers against your G-spot harder, forcing your ass back against his hard, girthy cock, swollen and throbbing for pussy behind the prison of his red gym shorts.
You were in a dress, at one point. A dress you kept in its protective plastic hanger for weeks. Now, it laid abandoned, torn and neglected scraps on the ground since the second Jason saw you in it.
What was his main concern about it? “Nothing.”
The fabric was a rich, deep silky blue, caressing your body perfectly in every way. His biggest issue was a certain cocky bastard, who’s signature color just so happens to lay in pieces on the ground.
Yes, he’d get calls and texts from the rest once they realize he failed to attend yet another Gala. Yes, they’d most likely realize that it wasn’t you who had planned to miss it in the first place.
The last thing he wanted was said certain cocky Grayson to make even so much as a thought of a snarky comment on such. Knowing him, he would.
It was all Jason; the man who didn’t bother to think of the tux he was supposed to have picked up from the dry cleaners before coming home from the gym.
All he had on hand was you, working up to your fourth climax in front of your bedroom mirror. A beautiful, erotic mess of smeared lipstick and cloudy mascara tears, moaning endlessly on his fingers before working you open on his cock.
Never catch him thinking he wasn’t a giver. It was his second favorite sport.
“Pretty, pretty,” Jason murmurs against your neck, kissing along your flushed skin. “Pretty, pretty girl. Y’know what I want, huh? Give it to me.”
“C-C-Can’t,” you exhale, both your hands clutching his working forearm, needlessly crying out broken words and drawn out cries as the fire in your tense tummy threatened to burst.
“J-Jay, J-J-Jay, I-I can’t! S’too much!!”
“Come on, babygirl. Don’t be like that, give me what I want. Come on, baby. Come on, come on.”
He urges via lustfully hasty words in your right ear, bucking his fingers deeper and faster into your stretched walls, the palm of his calloused hand directly abusing your swollen, rosy little clit.
Your nails dig deeper into his forearm, deep enough to add onto his collection of angry scars as liquid heat surges through your veins. A collection of trembling cries erupted from your quivering, rouge smeared lips as his palm grew soaked.
He grunts out a pleased groan in tandem with yours, nearly drowned out by your whimpering as if he was the one that came, forcing every nerve in your body to shiver.
“There we go,” Jason cooes, working his fingers until he picks up on those irritated, little overstimulated whines he recognized by memory, telling him to slow down without use of words.
Only, your body didn’t give him what he wanted. Almost, but not yet.
He listened for now, retreating his fingers, lingering about to pry your soaked lips apart, biting back a deep growl at your soaked, gaping pink hole.
Never more than now did he want to stuff you full, but he was working for something a little more… eye catching.
He enjoyed what he saw right now; maroon lipstick smeared off the edges of your lips, transferred onto his the second he kissed you against your mirror. Pink scratches and dabbled love bites that would morph into rich, wine bruises littering your neck and shoulders.
Red, pure red from your blooming cheeks, aroused skin, sore breasts, and abused pussy.
A dirty, surface drenching show only your body could provide, ignited by his favorite hue of color, by any means necessary. So. why stop at four?
Without a word, Jason dips a finger back inside your cavern, feeling your body nearly wince from the intrusion, a low little whine escaping your deflated lungs.
“Jasooon,” you croak, your rising hips instantly jolted back against his lap by a strong grip on your hip, followed by the click of his tongue. “Please—“
“Not done yet, Princess,” he murmurs, kissing along your neck as his other finger joins in, expertly finding your sweet spot and curling his fingers, determined to go for five.
Blue wasn’t a good color on you anyway.
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not a smut request, but abby or ellie comforting an upset reader who's got runny mascara and tears down her face🥲?
A/n: You requested this sooo long ago sorry I’m just now writing it😞 but thank you once again for a BANGER request comfort is favorite to write 🤭🤭🤭
Pairing: abby anderson x reader
warning: reader in emotional distress
You’d held back tears the whole way home from work. Your throat hurt from choking them down for the past 2 hours at least. Now you were finally at the front door of your home, your hand shaking as you try to unlock the door.
It only made you more frustrated unable to steady your hand. The tears finally breaking through as you got the key in the hole. Your vision was blurred as you walked into the house and put your things down. The tears fully streaming down your face in silence.
Abby had worked from home today and called to you from the living room. You didn’t even try to process what she said as you walked to your shared bedroom and then into the attached bathroom.
You closed the bathroom door to take a moment to silently sob. Your boss completely berated you before you left work talking about how your performance was not up to par and threatening to fire you. It was completely uncalled for given you were one of the best workers in the office. It scared you more than anything, it made you feel weak that you were making such a fuss over a threat.
Every worry spun around in your mind as you sat in the edge of the tub. A soft knock sounded from the door bringing you out of your chaos of a mind. Abby was on the other side listening to your struggle breaths and sniffles worried sick. “H-honey? Can I come in?” She said tentatively, when you had ignored her and walked right past her you were wearing a facial expression she’d never seen before and couldn’t read. She didn’t know if she had done something to make you upset and it made her stomach hurt with concern.
You looked up at the ceiling as if trying to connect to a higher power and tried taking a deep breath. You didn’t want Abby to see you like this but she was probably the only person in the world that would make you feel even remotely ok right now.
“Yeah come- come in Abby.” You had to stop halfway through to choke down the tears that came up again. She opened the door carefully peaking at you, you gave her a weak tight lipped smile. “Oh baby” Abby whispered quickly entering the room and closing the door. “Oh my god, oh my god what happened?!” She walked over and kneeled between your legs getting eye level. She was almost frantic looking over your wet face.
She pushed stray hairs behind your ears and held your cheeks tenderly. It became too much and you began to cry again. You felt too vulnerable and grab Abby’s hands taking them and holding them in your lap, then looking down as if trying to hide from her. She feels tears nearly come up at the sight of her inconsolable lover.
She gets up from the floor and pulls you into her. Her strong arms keep you up and in place securely. She presses your head into her chest not caring about how your wet mascara was staining her shirt and the other arm holds your waist keeping you on your feet. She left a kiss on the top of your head and held you until you had calmed down again. Whispering sweet words to you making you feel as safe as possible.
You finally calmed and stilled in her arms and she pulls back looking at you concerned. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to ok honey.” She said practically whispering taking the softest tone she could. You shook your head deciding to speak.
“My b-boss basically told me I suck at my j-job a-a-nd he could fire me soon if he wanted.” You shrugged defeated and to exhausted to get angry about it. Your words shaky trying to push past sniffing and hyperventilation. Abby on the other hand looked like she was going to kill someone. But she’d be lying if it didn’t relieve her that it wasn’t her fault that you were upset. “That doesn’t make any sense you work so fucking hard for that company.” She strains to keep her voice nice and sweet for you as she imagines turning your bosses face into a pulp.
“He was so m-mean Abby.” You hiccup and her heart breaks over and over again. She cups your face making you look at her. “I’m so sorry honey.”Abby just about wanted to ball hearing your voice become so small and depleted. “I’m s’scared Abby.” Abby shook her head at this. “No, no, there’s no reason, just know that if anything happens I’ll take care of you. Ok?” Abby’s eyes watered fully taking on your distress. Anger rumbled around in her chest but she knows that’s not what you needed right now. You need her sweet words she’d plan a hit on your boss later. “What can I do to make you feel better?” Her thumb rubs your cheek removing some of the runny mascara and she looks over your whole face lovingly.
You hiccup again before answering. “I j-just wanna lay down and sleep.” Your so so tired barely having any energy to speak. Your words nothing but soft whispers to keep from crying again. Abby nods letting you go and walking into the bedroom.
She comes back with her large hoodie and your comfy sleep shorts. You already feel better knowing how taken care of you are. Abby sets the clothes down pulling your make up remover out of the cabinet putting it on a cotton pad and gently taking your now smudged makeup off. She works quietly the only sounds in the room being your sniffles and hiccups.
“Your so pretty baby.” Abby whispered getting a small tired smile out of her sweet tired girl making her smile even bigger. She placed a kiss on your forehead once she finished. “All clean.” She said feeling accomplished. She made quick work of helping you into your pjs and putting your hair into braids to get it off your neck.
You both walk into the bedroom Abby pulls up the covers for you to get into the bed and lays down with you. She let you come to her, nuzzling into her contently. Abby tangled together with you, and she scratched your back comfortingly. You let your eyes close and fell asleep quickly so desperate to forget the day. “I’ll wake you up when dinners ready.” Abby whispered before carefully maneuvering to not wake you up and slipping away into the kitchen.
Thank you for reading tehehe
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Can't start another WIP she said, bitch she fuckin LIED. Personal Assistant Steve to Rockstar Eddie snippet. Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 AO3
Smoke curled lazily above them in the slightly chilly night air. Neither of them had bothered to put any clothes back on but they were still warm enough from previous activities so it didn’t really matter.
The guy, Jake? John? James? J- Julian! That was it. Julian was standing next to him just out of arms reach now that the horny haze between the two of them had worn off.
Eddie supposed that was to be expected.
The poor guy probably had no idea if he was about to be booted unceremoniously out of a rockstars luxury hotel room after crashing together under a fog of uppers and thumping music at the after party before they both had quickly fumbled their way into Eddie's bed for the night.
He had no idea if fuckin' security or some shit was going to burst through the door and drag him out half or fully naked now that Eddie was done with him.
And it probably hadn't helped that they had been walked in on, they'd barely been in the room a minute before Steve came looking for him, talking a mile a minute about tour schedules and pre-approved interview questions before he'd realised he was looking at Eddie practically humping the guy against a wall.
They'd stopped when Steve walked in obviously but it had been pretty clear what they were doing and Steve, ever the professional had just rolled his eyes and told Eddie he'd be back in the morning.
Julian clearly had no idea if he was safe here now that the deed was done but Eddie wasn't an asshole. He could be a bit callous all right but he wasn't opposed to his hook-ups hanging around for a little bit if they seemed like cool enough people. And the guy seemed nice enough so he didn’t mind letting him stick around.
Julian sighed a little heavily and ran a hand through his muddy blonde hair. “I feel kinda bad now.”
Eddie turned his eyes over to him. “About what? The sex?” He pulled in a drag from his cigarette.
“No!” Julian answered quickly. “No, the sex was great, really. I mean about your... Your assistant? Probably not the easiest thing for him to see.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Eddie shook his head. “Steve’s seen much worse, believe me. The stories that man could tell.” He laughed. “It's not the first time he's walked in and it probably won’t be the last but he’s practically immune to it at this stage. He’s dragged me by the hair out of celebrity drug dens, parties… he’s pulled me out of more orgy piles than I can count so you know… no skin off his back. ”
“That’s not really what I meant.”
“What then?”
Julian grimaced and glanced down with a look somewhere between guilty and sad. “You really don’t see it?”
Eddie ashed out his cigarette, shrugging and headed back inside. He wanted to get back into bed, his feet were cold and his body was aching from the show he’d just performed. Honestly he could do with as much sleep as humanly possible but he hadn't any idea what the guy was talking about. He'd meant what he'd said, Steve had seen him in just about every position it was possible for a person to be in pre-sex, mid-sex and post-sex. This was nothing new to him.
Julian followed him back inside and hovered awkwardly at the end of the bed, trying to pick his words and unsure if he should be picking his clothes back up from the floor or getting back into bed.
Eddie pulled the corner of the covers back. “I’m not going to kick you out, you can stay if you want or you can go. Up to you.”
Julian bit his lip but crawled in regardless, lying down to face Eddie. The darkness of the room and the way the two of them were lying facing towards each other felt like some kind of confessional.
“He’s clearly in love with you, dude.”
Eddie couldn’t help the full on belly laugh that came out of his mouth. “Steve?!” He asked incredulously. “No way, man. He’s my P.A. and one of my closest friends. Plus the guy is straight as an arrow. Your gaydar must be off or something.”
“What makes you so sure?”
“Well… I mean… look at him!”
Steve was… he was the straightest looking man around. All business suits, perfectly styled hair, slightly out of date glasses and ex-jock charisma and physique.
Julian didn’t answer, just cocked an eyebrow at him.
Eddie huffed. “Yeah, okay, I’m stereotyping but like… he fucks women.”
“You fuck women.”
“Rarely.”
“But you still do.”
“Okay… but… he… listen I know Steve, alright? The guy isn’t in love with me.”
Julian shrugged. “I dunno, man. I’m not trying to be an ass, I swear but it was very obvious… to me I guess.” He sighed again then muttered “Maybe I’m just very familiar with that look.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah." He tucked his hands under his head. "See it every time I look in the mirror.”
“Oh. Well shit. Who’re you breaking your heart over?”
“My best friend. Danny.”
Eddie hummed, rolling onto his stomach and shoving his arms under his pillow, rubbing his cheek against the fabric. “Tell me about him.”
Julian broke into a wide but bashful smile, so bright it was practically lighting up the dark room though it was sharply undercut with just a hint of melancholy.
“He’s the most loving, giving person I’ve ever met. He’d only just turned eighteen when both his parents died and out of nowhere he’s got three younger siblings that are now in his care and the guy barely knew how to look out for himself, you know? He once tried to microwave an egg to cook it. But he really stepped up. He grew up. Like, can you imagine being eighteen and having to go to parent-teacher meetings when you’d only just left school yourself and trying to teach his kid brother how to shave or talk his sisters through puberty… he’s just so… you know?”
Eddie wasn’t really sure he did know. This Danny person made him think of Steve, serial adopter of anyone even remotely younger than him. Sometimes older than him, if Eddie was to count himself. The kind of person who seemed to make it their life's mission to take care of others. He could see the appeal of Best-Friend-Danny, honestly. Steve probably had better hair though. He always had better hair.
“And Danny’s straight?”
“No.” Julian frowned. “He’s not. And I don’t know if that makes things worse. Because he could choose me. But he never has. Over and over and over again, he hasn’t chosen me. He probably never will. And I need him in my life. So I’ve learned to deal with just friends. It’ll... It'll be good enough.”
“Fuck, that’s heavy. I’m sorry man, sounds like it sucks.”
“It does suck. Sucks dick and balls, actually.”
Eddie allowed himself a little giggle at that but the whole situation had wound itself around his brain. Not for the first time he was forced to remember that there are other people out there, other people like him and other people nothing like him who use music, use sex, use drugs and drink and anything else they can get their hands on just to alter their minds for a few hours. Just to forget and get away from it all. Unfortunately this poor guy seemed stuck in the kind of tragedy poets have been writing about for hundreds of years.
They didn’t share any more words, both dropping off to sleep fairly quickly, lost in their own thoughts.
The next morning they shuffled around each other, lazy and easy now that any post-sex awkwardness had left, grumbling and sore from the show, the various substances they’d ingested, the after party and the sex from the night before.
They took turns in the hotel room's quite frankly obscenely fancy shower.
Julian slowly pulled his clothes back on, wincing whenever he had to bend his back while Eddie made it easy on himself, just throwing on his usual ancient and ratty lounging clothes.
The things Julian had said to him the night before were all but forgotten. Because it wasn't even something that was worth considering in Eddie's mind.
Steve? In love with him?
It was the most ridiculous thing he'd ever heard in his life. Steve was like some kind of clean cut poster boy for straightness.
Even if he wasn't straight they'd just be downright incompatible in every other sense of the word. He was punctual, a morning person, he exercised for fun, he watched sports, he was a bitch and he was always so put together.
Eddie... Eddie was none of those things.
Maybe he could be a bit of a bitch.
Sometimes.
Plus, even if it was true and that was a big if, Eddie wasn't in love with him back, so like...
Nothing would ever come of it anyway.
Just before Julian left, Eddie beckoned him back over.
The kiss wasn’t romantic, or heated. If anything it was downright platonic, like closing the book on their short story together.
“For luck.” Eddie smiled and patted him lightly on the chest, watching as Julian turned and left the room, his own small smile on his face.
It was nearly a half an hour later and Eddie was really getting into whatever episode of Real Housewives he’d stumbled upon, he wasn't sure, when Steve walked through the door, carrying a large and violently pink strawberry frappuccino with him.
Eddie made greedy, grabby hands at it from his lounged position on the bed. “You’re a saint.” He said, snatching it up.
“I’m aware.” Steve replied with a dry tone, hands on his hips.
Eddie gulped back two bitingly cold mouthfuls. “No, seriously, you’re the best thing to ever happen to me I swear to god." He gulped down another mouthful, ignoring the sharp throb in his teeth. "You gonna watch?” He gestured to the tv. “I think we’re a few episodes behind.”
Steve scoffed. “While I’d love nothing more than to sit on your dirty sex sheets, I have an actual job to do. Y’know, I have to organise your whole damn life-”
“Excuse you, I have an actual job too!”
“Drugs are not an actual job, Eds.”
“Tell that to a pharmacist.”
“Whatever. Drink your disgusting sugar and cream concoction and try not to get into too much trouble today. We're back on the tour bus at 6am sharp!” Steve started slowly backing towards the door, pointing at him. “And do not watch ahead from the last episode we saw together. We’re catching up on it over the weekend.”
“Can’t make any promises.”
Steve’s hands were back on his hips again and Eddie smiled around his straw.
“You’re the bane of my fucking existence, you know that?”
“Yeah, yeah.” He waved his hand. “Love you too, sweetheart.”
Something flashed across Steve’s face, there and gone before it ever settled. A tightening of his mouth, a clench in his jaw, a pinch in his brows, there and gone. Maybe if Julian had never said anything, Eddie wouldn’t have noticed. Maybe if the thought hadn’t been primed he wouldn’t have seen it.
How many times had he not seen it before?
Steve rolled his eyes, as bitchy as ever. “I’ll be back with the car in an hour. Try to look somewhat human by then, please?” He didn’t wait for an answer, turning on his heel and slamming the door behind him.
Well…
It was probably nothing…
Right?
Part 2 out now! Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 AO3
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The 3 Falls of Anthony J Crowley
So far, Crowley has told three different stories to three different audiences about why he Fell, and there's some important information that can be inferred from them. Let's get nerdy.
(Nb. C. 25% of this is from a previous post I made about Crowley's memory problems.)
Here's Crowley's 1st story (gifs courtesy of Fuck Yeah Good Omens), in 1867:
In Book Omens this line is narration about Crowley, and means that Crowley didn't embrace evil and side with Hell so much as he just wasn't into the whole Heaven shindig.
In Show Omens, this phrase becomes a little more fraught, because Crowley says it about himself, and he says it to Aziraphale.
Aziraphale has just disagreed with Crowley's assertion that the two of them have a lot in common. Az thinks Crowley means their origins as angels, and demurs, "I don't know. We may have both started off as angels, but you are fallen."
But what Crowley means, as we find out in pretty much every other scene the two of them share in S1 and S2, is that that he and Aziraphale have a lot in common now, in their current positions. He wants Aziraphale to see him as a friend--and to be his friend--so he elides the difference his Fallenness makes to Aziraphale, all "Ehhh, it wasn't really a fall kind of Fall, it wasn't that bad."
Also, given the conversation they have in the Final Fifteen, I feel like his phrasing is kind of important here, because falling is not voluntary, but sauntering is. In saying this Crowley is claiming that to some degree he chose to reject Heaven.
It's entirely possible that Crowley may have been lying to Aziraphale in 1867--he is, as he says, a demon, and he's lied to him before to make something bad seem less bad--but maybe not. Remember what the Metatron says about Crowley:
And this is another interesting point: The Metatron knew Crowley as an angel. The Metatron. The being who, after shepherding Aziraphale out of the bookshop, turned back and looked at Crowley with hate.
(And tense music playing, in case you weren't sure.)
So maybe that's it. Maybe Crowley just chose to be on his own side.
But in 2019, and addressing God, Crowley's story of his Fall is slightly different:
I think we can take this as Crowley's sincere belief. It's unlikely that he would lie when speaking to God, because that is Aziraphale's job because he doesn't have any reason to do so: God hasn't been listening to Crowley for 6,000 years at this point, and if She were listening, lying would not work. So Crowley probably believes he's telling the truth here with this story: Crowley believes one reason he Fell is that he asked questions.
But is he right?
Another line from the Metatron:
The Metatron seems to speak of Crowley's habit of asking questions as though he finds it obnoxious rather than damning, so maybe the questions weren't the problem. Then again we know that the Metatron is a lying piece of shit and an authoritarian who doesn't want his regime questioned, willing to erase memories and destroy lives to cover up the 'institutional problem' that Heaven doesn't know what the Plan is and is run by a handful of warmongers who want everyone dead or indentured.
Either way, this is the third time in the series someone has talked about the problem of Crowley asking questions, so my guess is his questions were probably a salient feature of his Fall.
Onward!
Before we look at the 3rd story, remember that we have strong evidence now that Crowley has had his memories erased by Heaven.
But we also know Furfur, another demon, still has his memories. Inference: Heaven don't erase the memories of every angel who Falls. This suggests that Heaven erased Crowley's memories because he had knowledge in those memories Heaven didn't want him to have anymore.
This may not be specific knowledge. We know Crowley has a high security clearance in Heaven and therefore must have been a high-ranking angel, and we know he created a nebula with Saraqael, so presumably there was a lot of stuff in his head Heaven wanted stripped out.
But I think there was something specific, and here's why. Firstly, there's no reason to assume that importance in Heaven is a guarantee of importance in Hell. Furfur could have been a high-ranking angel too before ending up an admin in Hell. (Hell does not seem to be any more of a meritocracy than Heaven does.)
Secondly, it's clear that Crowley doesn't know his memories have been erased. If he knew, then when Furfur says "We were in the same Legion? Just before the Fall? Doing dubious battle on the Plains of Heaven? Remember?" he'd say something like "Don't be stupid, of course I don't remember, Heaven erased my memories."
Instead he says,
Now, maybe Crowley is just being a dick here. Certainly we're supposed to take it that way until he goes up to Heaven with Muriel and doesn't remember Saraqael either.
But what if he's being truthful? If Crowley is being honest (and a dick), that would mean the Fash didn't erase all of Crowley's memories of his time in Heaven. We know this because Furfur says he and Crowley fought together "on the Plains of Heaven," and "just before the Fall" [emphasis added].
This suggests that Maybe Heaven didn't erase time from Crowley's memory. Maybe they erased people.
Okay, now here's Crowley's 3rd story about how he Fell:
It's a cute line, but what if it's not just a throwaway joke referencing what people say about kids who go down the wrong path and become criminals?
Crowley mutters this 3rd story to himself, so we can be confident Crowley believes this to be true. But Crowley doesn't know who the wrong people are. He doesn't know whose company got him thrown out of Heaven, because his memories of all those people have been taken from him.
And taken together, these three stories and Crowley's stolen memories suggest a bigger, more disturbing inference: Crowley doesn't know why he Fell. (Or sauntered vaguely downwards.)
Like Crowley, Job was once a favorite of God. But he has fallen out of that favor and been delivered to demons for reasons God refuses to tell him.
We the audience are meant to draw a parallel between Job and Crowley. We know this not just because of the speech Crowley cathartically gives Job's goats, in which everything he says to the goats can be just as easily applied to Job or himself, but from two other indications. Here's one:
Job is wearing Crowley's color.
The other is the minisode title, "A Companion to Owls." This phrase comes from the Book of Job, specifically Job 30:29. Job, lamenting what has happened to him, says,
I am a brother to dragons, and a companion to owls.
In Biblical symbolism, dragon=serpent=snake=demon. And in some Mesopotamian beliefs--one of them Judaism--owls were associated with demons as well:
and
and
So the Job of the Bible is saying in this verse the same thing the Job of Good Omens says: God has forsaken me and delivered me to demons. Or even: God has forsaken me and I am now being treated like demons are treated.
And he's also saying something else. In the Bible, owls symbolize loneliness, desolation, and solitude. They're consistently depicted as living in barren, abandoned, isolated places. Seriously. Go search owl(s) in a Biblical concordance and read all 30 entries: it comes up a lot. If you're a companion to owls, you're alone (except for the owls) in the wilderness. You're forsaken.
WHOMST do we know whose signal color is yellow, who's a brother of demons, and who admits at the end of the episode that being alone and forsaken in the wilderness is lonely?
So. Job, a character whose claim to fame is that God punished him and he didn't know why, is a mirror character to Crowley. This on its own isn't enough to say definitely that Crowley doesn't know why he Fell, but combined with the three different stories he tells about his Fall, I think there's enough textual evidence to conclude that Crowley isn't entirely sure why he fell; he only has educated guesses. Either he knew and the memory was erased, or he was never told at all.
My question about Crowley's Fall is this: Who pushed him?
Was Crowley's Fall an act of God Herself, or was it an act of Heaven? What did the fucking Metatron have to do with it? What was Crowley's crime? When Aziraphale takes charge of Heaven and the Second Coming, will he read Crowley's file?
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IF YOU WROTE ABOUT TAEHYUN I WOULD DIE HAPPILY 💘💘 if you don’t mind a nsfw request, messing around with academic rival Taehyun stuff maaaaybe 👀
answers
pairing. kang taehyun x reader
tags: smut (18+ / mdni), academic rivals au, mean dom taehyun, bratty reader, fwb (more like enemies who fuck but iykyk), angry / hate sex, implied dacryphilia, pet names (pretty)
w/c: 930+
a/n: i wrote a rly similar thing for joshua ages ago but i feel like it's so fitting for tyunnie too ... academic rivals is just right for him :3 ty to @agustdiv1ne my lov for reading this over 4 me hehe anyways thank u for requesting, i hope u enjoy!
taehyun likes answers.
taehyun likes knowing answers.
he likes simple responses, easy explanations—pretty much anything that gives him the answer, plain as it is.
so it's safe to say he's just the least bit ticked off when you somehow outscored him on the last o-chem exam, and neither the professor nor you are giving him a straight answer as to how in the world that happen.
because taehyun swears—he swears on every last star in the sky—that he had hit the nail for this one. studied hours on end, turned down every single one of yeonjun's party invites, cancelled half his plans with beomgyu—he did fuckin' everything to make sure he'd secure that number one spot, but there you were, grinning with your stupidly pretty, pristine face as you held up your paper with a bright red '100' etched into the corner.
you must've been so proud of yourself too.
taeyhun almost feels bad, looking down at you as you try to muffle sobs of pleasure with your palm as he rams into you from behind.
"how'd you do it?" he hisses, bruising grip latched onto the plush of your hips.
"d-dunno what—fuck—" you whine when he jams his cock into your warm cunt with vigor that has you lurching ageainst the desk, gripping the edges so tight your knuckles are beginning to burn white. "—dunno what you're t-talkin' about," you manage to gasp out in the short moment of recuperation taehyun gives you before dragging his hips back and shoving his length back in just as deep.
"fuckin' liar," the faux, silver haired boy grunts from behind. a strangled moan escapes your throat as he continues to drill into you, and you press your cheek against the cool wood of the desk in fruitless hopes that it will keep you sane for just a moment longer.
"t-taehy—"
"save it," he growls, and the way his voice is so gravely, so deeply animalistic has you unconsciously thrusting your ass backwards too to meet his forceful thrusts. "can't even gim'me a—" his breath hitches when he feels your sopping cunt tighten around his length. "—a straight fucking answer."
you try to shake your head but with the way your body is throttling after ever snap of his cock into your cunt, the task proves extremely difficult. "feels so-oh good," you tell him in airy breaths. "c-can't—" you can't think, is what you want to say, but you're too fucked out to even be able to form coherent words, and the thought makes you grow dizzy with heat.
taehyun moans at the sight that follows—you looking up from him as you crane your neck to face him, back arched into the hottest fuckin' view he's ever had the pleasure of seeing, tears streaming down your pretty face, staining your cute cheeks, dripping off your swollen lips and—fuck, he might as well bust it on the spot if he wasn't so damn furious.
"feels too good, huh?" taehyun scoffs. "too good to tell me how you outscored me?"
"i-i—" you choke out when he rams into you so hard the sound of skin slapping against skin rings in your ears. "—told you i dunno. it's j-just i did better," you choose to add, not realizing that those five words were probably the last things you should have said.
taehyun pulls out of you in an instant.
it happens so fast that you swear you can still sense the lingering feeling of his fat cock inside of you, all pretty curves and veins carving their shape into your hot, gummy walls.
and then it hits you.
you're painfully empty.
"sh-shit!" you whimper, scrambling against the desk with jelly legs and sore hips as you mindlessly try to do anything that'll fill you up. it nearly angers you how quickly you resort to begging. "no, no, no, no—please, no! why'd you stop?!" you cry out, turning to face him him completely now. your ass now presses into the side of the table with taehyun looming over you in front, eyes dark and jaw clenched.
your eyebrows curve into a frown, puffy bottom lip jutted out in a pout as taehyun watches you intensely as you mewl softly, pushing yourself to sit on your desk and spread you legs for him. "taehyun, i—"
"so now you wanna talk?" he scoffs, surprising you by grabbing your thighs and yanking you closer to the end of the desk so that your dripping cunt are positions right in front of his shining cock. "tell me," he mutters, sliding the thick tip between your pulsing folds but not giving you what you want the most.
"please, taehyun, please," you repeat, writhing against his hold in a dreadful attempt at slipping his cock into you.
"you gotta tell me, pretty," taehyun whispers, nudging his length against your throbbing clit so that you jerk slightly at the stimulation.
"already told you," you huff out, having half the mind to roll your eyes at him, but something tells you you know better. "dunno—guess i just—"
you shriek loudly when he sinks into you at once, balls pressed against your ass as he leans over you and pins you to the desk. "say it," taehyun dares, pressing his lips to the shell of your ear as you close your eyes and revel in the feeling of him so deep inside of you. "say it and you won't walk for a week."
you don't know what possesses you to gulp and murmur, "—guess i j-just outsmarted you—ah! taehyun!"
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Kinda happens in the same universe as "The order of things" comic, so Sun and Moon are not fully sentient and very restricted with what they can and cannot do. They can't lie and can't say "no" to staff(can avoid truth and bypass your orders if you don't make clear what exactly you want from them tho.) More info in "The order of things" comic posts.
I just randomly found out that the method used in this comic can be used to bypass security mechanisms in some AI's. So I thought it found be a fun thing to make with Sun and Moon, haha bless their souls/j
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FEYD-RAUTHA HARKONNEN NSFW ALPHABET
A/N: btw in these headcanons as well as my other posts about Dune i kinda mix movie and book versions of character
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
Feyd-Rautha isn't the most affectionate person, even if you're together. He just falls asleep, hugged into you. He may help you clean yourself and take care of the wounds if it was particularly rough session.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
It would be a hard decision but if he had to choose, Feyd would say that he most likes his hands. The way they use a knife, how they engulf your neck... he loves how many lives he took with his hand and you still kiss them and want them on your body.
When it comes to you, Feyd would probably choose all these spots that he uses to make you shiver and writhe. He knows you body well and remember where he needs to focus when he wants to give you pain or pleasure.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
In you, almost always. He sees it as a kind of marking his territory (there was that one fanfic where Harkonnens had black cum so basically everyone could notice stains and knew that they fucked and I absolutely love this headcanon), moreover he needs to secure his line and get an heir.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
It takes a bit of time together for Feyd to accept this (and even longer to admit it) but he enjoys being soft with you. He still loves violence and rough sex but he also likes cuddling with you and being petted.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
I suppose we all know the answer. Sex and violence are two things he mastered.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
He can't choose just one. Missionary is good for keeping eye contact and observing your reactions. Anything where he takes you from behind, gives him feeling of control and domination. Also there are a lots of moment when you're restrained in all possible positions.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
Feyd isn't a very humorous person in general and sex is no exception. Smile is the best you can get from him.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
I'll go here with his 2023 movie look and say that he's as bald and smooth down there, as everywhere else.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
Well, he's not the most romantic person. Even if he loves you, he doesn't know how to show it except for being more delicate and caring with you.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
He rather doesn't do it. When he's horny, he can just find you or one of his concubines.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
You can pry that headcanon from my cold dead hands but I think that he has a mommy kink. He didn't got much affection in his life, growing up in Harkonnen's family and in movie version he killed his mother sooo lots of issues here (in comics he was just kidnapped from parents as a small kid so not much better). Anyway, he wouldn't admit it but he loves when you hug him and stroke his head as he rests on your chest or belly. Praise him, tell him that you love him, you're proud of him and he will melt in your arms.
Also, of course, all kinds of BDSM. Feyd prefers to cause pain but he's sadomasochistic and lets you torture him as well. I won't list specific things he likes because it would be easier to list things he doesn't like.
And semi-public sex? He wants people to hear how he fucks you and to know that you're his and his only.
Perhaps breeding kink (but in Dune almost everybody has breeding kink; bene gesserit is as if somebody had breeding kink and decided to make this everyone's problem). As I mentioned, he sees this kinda as marking his territory and bounding you to him? And of course, he needs an heir (not that he actually likes children).
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
His bedroom is the best. There's a big bed and all of his toys and tools... but Feyd isn't picky. If mood strikes him, he may fuck you on any surface.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
Almost everything lol
But just to give a random example, he's always horny after fight, especially if he kills someone (same if you love violence as well and kill somebody).
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Hmm he's rather possesive so it may be hard to convince him to a threesome. But at the other hand, he's a hedonist so maybe he would like it.
It's hard to say what he wouldn't do because as I say later, this man is down to try almost everything.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
It's not his favourite sexual thing to do, but he never refuses a blowjob. He prefers receiving, giving you oral is a rare occasion. He can do this, just usually his pleasure has priority.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Usually fast and rough, Feyd only goes slow when he wants to tease you or to torture you.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
Feyd prefers longer sessions when he can focus on the act and perhaps torture you a little but quickies are not far away in the ranking. As I mentioned, he has a very high libido, so it often happens during the day that he's busy and don't have much time so he just pulls you to the nearest room. And if some servant walks in (very unlikely, considering all the noises alarming people what's happening behind the doors)? Then that's their problem. Feyd doesn't stop thrusting into you, as they leave the room in hurry.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
Feyd is that type of man who will try anything in his life at least once, so take care of yourself.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
In general, he has amazing stamina (years of training paid off) but it depends on situation, like, whether you have a standard fast fucking just to satisfy your lust, or you have a whole session with long foreplay. Amount of rounds varies but he can go for a few hours.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
Feyd has a whole collection, whatever he could get. Dildos, clamps, spreader bars, ropes, whips, knives, needles, wax candles, dick rings, chastity belts, butt plugs and a few things that look like torture devices. Anyway, both of you use it rather frequently.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
He loves to tease you. With his voice, his words, even his gestures seem sexual. He also likes to touch (or rather grope) you through the day. Fortunately, he has a high libido so it won't take long before he pulls you to the nearest free room.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
He isn't very loud, if he moans or gasps, he does it rather quietly. But he likes every once in awhile talk to you and tease you. Maybe it's nothing special but even "How does it feel, my pet? Don't be shy, look me in the eyes" said in his low voice can make you shiver.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
He is actually a switch. Top leaning but occasionally enjoys when you take control. And, no matter who's in charge, he's still a sadomasochist so even when he's dominating, he wants you to give him pain.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
Perfectly average but he knows how to use it.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
Probably you all expected this, but yeah. Very high. There's no day without sex and not just one round.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
Rather quickly. He has a good stamina but sex takes a lot of his energy, especially considering how long you do it and how much he engages in it.
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Darlin' I'd Wait For You
Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader
Requested by propertyofjmiller on AO3:
“hiya ^^ super duper simple request; softly singing astarion to sleep as he's laying on tav's tummy and she's playing with his hair :) it could be set after his ‘good ending’ where you talk him out of ascending, so the relationship is established (if that's easier from a writing perspective) but i'm always for an emotionally constipated astarion who's still learning how to accept non-sexual intimacy 🤗 absolutely obsessing over your writing atm
JUST HAD A BRAIN WAVE. https://spotify.link/oCo4B63H0Db this song completely encapsulates the vibe”
It is currently 1 am I really wanted to write something and I'm so sleepy it only felt fitting to do this request. I have not proofread it at all but if I try to I will pass out so ✌️
Title based on "j's lullaby (darlin' i'd wait for you)" by Delaney Bailey
Warnings: none
Word Count: 943
Main Masterlist
First Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist - Second Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist
AO3
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He’s utterly restless. Maybe that shouldn’t be surprising - he was an elf who didn’t need to sleep like you did. A few hours’ meditation and he’d be perfectly fine. But it’s not like he’d never slept before. Even on your adventure, he found some solace in sleeping instead of meditating. So why couldn’t he sleep now?
Astarion sighs quietly, trying not to be loud despite the frustration that burns him up inside. He tries rolling over again, like it’ll help. He bites back another frustrated sigh.
You roll over to face him. Your lids are heavy and you look the embodiment of tiredness, but you smile softly at him. “Can’t sleep?” you whisper.
He does sigh this time, long and annoyed. “No,” he grumbles. You chuckle, but he knows it’s harmless. Still, he can’t help being a little hot-and-bothered by it. A bit ruder than is appropriate for so late at night, he bites out, “Sorry if I woke you.”
“It’s okay. I couldn’t sleep either.”
With a stifled yawn, you sit up. He watches, intrigued, as you prop up pillows behind you and lay back into them. Then you delicately touch his shoulder. Always so gentle. You never wanted to overwhelm him or overstep. It was still a new concept for him. You’d brush a finger against his while walking side by side to see if he wished to hold hands; you’d hover a hand near his lower back when you had to slip by, never quite touching; you’d reach a hand up toward his hair and wait for him to lean in or verbally tell you he wanted it, and if he didn’t respond at all or even slightly shook his head, your hand would drop back down and you’d smile so brightly at him. It made his head spin.
With your other hand, you pat your belly. “C’mon, I’ll sing to you.” Even this is an invitation he could refuse. But how can he, when he is so restless and your plush, warm skin is calling to him?
He crawls to lay on top of you - though, it’s more like he pulls himself across the space until he can drop his head into your stomach. You lightly trace your hand from his shoulder to his upper-back, giving him a warm sense of security. Your other hand brushes a curl from his face. He looks up at you, not fully resting his chin on you, for fear of pressing too hard.
You drag your fingers through his hair, lightly scratching your nails against his scalp. He leans into it, eyes closing at the sensation. When you reach the hairs on the back of his neck, you scratch and twirl your fingers to capture the stray little curls.
You hum as you finally pick what song you want to sing. You weren’t a bard, nor had you taken any voice lessons, but Astarion can’t help thinking you have the most perfect singing voice he’s ever heard. You can’t reach all the notes you want to, your voice warbles and falls a little flat, and sometimes you don’t remember the words. But he loves it all the same.
Darlin’, I’d wait for you
Even if you didn’t ask me to
Tie a lasso around the moon
And bring it on down to you
He turns to rest his ear against you. His arms slide underneath you, between your back and the pillows, and hold you like a child’s favorite toy.
I’d bottle the feeling you give me
And shelve that stuff for years to come
‘Cause, baby, when your arms are around me
I’d swear that I’m holding the sun
He smiles at the lyrics you sing so softly. You can’t help but smile, too.
You play with his hair unhurriedly, lazily. It’s always so soft. Your other hand rubs circle designs in between his shoulder blades. You easily avoid the scars beneath his sleep-shirt, so intimately familiar with his back in a way he would have hated before. He thinks he can make out sloppy elvish writing, but it’s hard to say. His mind is too sluggish to recall if you even know the language.
I’d give you the sun if you asked me
You could have all of time
You could have the stars and the trees
When dividin’ up the universe
You could have mine
You could have mine
His entire body relaxes into yours, until where you begin and he ends becomes a blur. Neither of you are eager to figure it out. Instead, you continue to sing your quiet lullaby. Your voice begins to trail off somewhere along the way, hands slowing and losing their rhythm. He can hear your breaths even out until you can no longer sing, fully claimed by your exhaustion.
He continues to lay there for a bit longer. He counts the seconds it takes for you to breathe in and out. He counts the beats of your heart as it slows to a steady pattern. Every so often, your fingers twitch in his hair or against his back, as though part of you is fighting to wake up again and continue taking care of him. But he’s already perfectly content right where he is. He is warm and safe, and you are warm and safe.
The dark tendrils of sleep crawl in from the outer edges of his mind until they overwhelm him. His dreams are filled with you - your voice, your smile, the way you feel in his arms, the way you touch him so tenderly. Come morning, he can experience it all for himself, but for now, he cherishes every second.
---
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Hi, can you do a jj maybank x fem routledge reader where they have looked eachother for a really long time and they eventually start dating but it's a secret and one day after an altercation with his dad jj comes to get for help and he stays the night with her and in the morning John b goes to wake her up and sees her an jj cuddling all tangled together then takes a pic of them
JJ x routledge reader is one of my favorite tropes
—————
“JJ?”
Right as you spoke, a loud snore sounded from behind the blond boy, causing him to flinch slightly. The sight of that alone make your heart tighten in your chest.
“I-I had no where else to go.” He whispered, averting his eyes as he rubbed the back of his neck.
“Oh, J, you know you can always come to me.” You gently ushered him into your room and softly kicked the door shut behind you to try and drone out the rest of your brothers loud snoring from his place on the couch.
It was the middle of the night, barely even two in the morning, and you had been peacefully cuddled up on your bed in one of JJ’s old shirts when a soft knock on your door awoke you from your slumber. JJ himself stood on the other side of the door with a dark bruise around his right eye that was enough to make your breath hitch.
The two of you had been best friends since you were children, and in love with each other for almost that long. Of course, neither of you ever did anything about it until recently- two months ago, to be exact- when you found yourselves kissing during a kegger. Well, the two of you had snuck away from the party to watch the stars, so you weren’t technically at the event, but still. You had been secretly dating ever since.
As much as you both wanted to show off and shout it out to the world that the two of you were happily together, one thing drew you back. John Booker Routledge.
It was common knowledge to the entire island that your older brother was protective of you, even more so after your fathers disappearance. He hated the idea of you dating anyone in the obx, let alone his best friend.
“Come here,” You cooed softly, sliding onto your mattress and holding your arms out for JJ.
Without hesitation, he dropped beside you and cuddled up into your side, burying his face in your shirt as his arms came around your torso and gripped onto you whilst searching for comfort.
This had happened more times than you would like, and had sadly even become a small routine between the two of you. Whenever things got really bad with his dad, he would come to you and the two of you would stay wrapped up in each others arms all night long. You had learned long ago not to ask what had happened or if he was alright, instead just letting your presence comfort him to the best of your ability.
You leaned your head down and pressed a small kiss to the top of his mop of hair as he rested his cheek on your stomach and you began slowly running your hands through his blond locks.
“You’re okay, J, I’m here. I’m here.” You whispered softly in his ear.
This was the part that killed you. The feeling of pure helplessness. You were helpless to stop the boy you loved from getting hurt by his own father and you were sure that that alone would be the death of you one day.
“I love you,” He mumbled, holding onto you tighter as he spoke.
“I love you too, J, so much.”
—————
“Yo, wake up, sleepy head.” John B yawned and stretched his arms over his head as he made his way to your room before opening up your door.
The sight in front of him made him freeze, and for the first time that morning, he was fully woken up.
You and JJ were laying in your bed, completely oblivious to the new presence in the room as you two slept soundly. Your head was leaning against the boys chest that was softly rising and falling with each breath he took.
Just as your brother could feel himself starting to lose it, and no doubt was about to lunge at the sleeping boy in a blind rage, his eyes linked onto something. JJ’s arm.
It was securely wrapped around your sleeping form, and even unconsciously tightened slightly at the sound of the door opening, even as he slept. As if he were afraid that something was going to come and rip you away from him.
It was that and the look of soft peacefulness that seemed to wash over both yours and the boys features like a tidal wave that stopped him in his tracks.
Now that John B thought about it, he finally realized all the ways that JJ went out of his way to look after and take care of you, and that was enough for your brother right now.
He grabbed out his phone and took a picture of the two of you, deciding to momentarily leave you alone but use the photo as evidence later to bring it up to you.
Reluctantly, he left the room, waiting until the door clicked softly behind him before he let out a small breath of air.
He might not be overly fond of the idea, but he knew that in the end, JJ would never do anything to hurt you, and John B trusted him with that if nothing else.
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J e a l o u s y
Starring; Toji Fushiguro, Cult Leader!Geto Suguru, Gojo Satoru, Choso Kamo & Reader
Cw: Smut, MDNI/18+,Swearing, AFAB reader. Slight plot, Mean: Toji, Gojo, Geto, Dirty Talking, Rough Sex, Oral (m & f receiving), DubCon, Breedinng kink, Exhibition, Degradation, Praise, Restraints, Collar & Leash, Murder, Blood, Overstimulation, P in V, Creampie, some AU(no curse for Toji)a whole lot of filth, not proofread, written on mobile.
WC: 5800 oops
NSFW UNDER THE CUT
Toji Fushiguro:
Toji Fushiguro:
Toji knew that living with a younger woman would be a pain in the ass sometimes, but today you really had him pissed. Toji had claimed you as his girl, though not in a dating sense, more so in a fuck buddy sense, because he didn’t know if he was capable of maintaining an actual relationship. Plus the two of you lived together, so it was all the benefits of dating without having to actually date. Win-win.
Toji had been downstairs at the gym of the apartment building, when you had texted him saying that you were going to have a friend over, and apologizing in advance for being loud. Toji had thought nothing of it at the time, typical college girl stuff, having a girl friend over and being obscenely loud.
He had decided to spend a bit longer in the gym, doing a few extra sets, just to give you and your girl a bit of privacy. He thought nothing of it when some kid with weird bangs, and the rest of his hair in a bun that he had never seen before walked into the gym. The kid had asked Toji if he could spot him for a couple of sets, saying that a friend of his was visiting someone, and he didn’t want to be a third wheel. The two of them had conversed, mostly about gains, protein, and other gym bro things, before the kid asked Toji if he wanted to join him in the pool. Toji had politely declined, before excusing himself, and putting his headphones back on.
When he entered your shared apartment the gears in his brain started turning when he noticed a pair of men’s shoes beside yours. He took his headphones off and heard music coming from your room, and other noises, moans and grunts. Toji wasn’t stupid, it just took him a bit to figure out things. That kid he met was obviously friends with whoever was in your room.
Toji wanted to go back downstairs, pull that kid out of the pool by his stupid bun, and beat the shit out of him for letting his friend come and fuck his girl. But Toji also did not want an assault charge, so he cracked a beer, and sat on the couch. He could see your room, and he had patience.
A short while later he heard the music stop, and your door open. You came out of your room followed by a kid with white hair, whose appearance pissed Toji off. the kid was tall, lanky, and wearing sunglasses. Who the hell wears sunglasses inside. He wore a crooked smile as he noticed Toji.
“Oh shit, I guess your roommate’s home!” The kid smirked at you.
Your hair was dishevelled, your make up a mess as you glanced at Toji.
“Yeah. Toji this is Satoru, Satoru this is my roommate, Toji.” You mumbled.
Toji watched you say goodbye to Satoru, hugging him at the door. You tried to dart away but Toji grabbed you by the neck.
“Where d’ya think you’re going?” Toji asked.
“To shower?” You bit your lip.
“Nah, I think you need to be reminded whose girl you are.” Toji said as he started guiding you into his bedroom.
Toji pushed you down roughly onto his bed.
“Close your eyes.” he ordered.
You did so, and shortly felt the cool leather of a collar being wrapped around your neck. Toji yanked both your hands behind your back, securing them to the cuffs attached to the collar. You opened your eyes, and Toji was smirking down at you.
“So, my girl thinks she can just fuck whoever she likes huh?” Toji takes his shirt off, and you lick your lips at the sight. His beautiful muscles, glimmering under the LED lights in his room. “Better hope he stretched you out real good.”
Toji pulls his sweats down and your eyes widen. His cock was monstrous. His tip, angry and red, with precum dribbling is thick. He usually needed to make you cum at least once and use lube just to get inside you. His length was just as mean, veiny and a curve that could send you into overdrive.
Toji pushes you onto your back, and spreads your legs, palming his cock a few times before lining himself up at your entrance, and pushing slightly. It feels like you’re ripping.
“Nngh Toji! It won’t fit!” You protest.
“Tch.” Toji pulls back a little bit before leaning his head over yours. “Open your mouth.”
You do so and he gathers saliva in his mouth, before spitting it into your awaiting mouth. You feel yourself become more aroused, and swallow his spit while looking him dead in the eyes.
“Good girl.” Toji says while grabbing the bottle of lube off his dresser, before smearing it over your entrance, and around his cock.
He lines himself up once again, pushing into you. You yelp and clench your fists behind your back, sweat coating your face.
“Mmm fuck mama, you’re takin’ it so good.” Toji’s tongue is between his teeth as he slowly pushes himself into you, your walls enveloping him. “That little boy couldn’t even make you cum huh?”
The pain and pleasure of Toji stretching you out mingle together. A moan escapes your lips. Toji slaps you in the face, and wraps his fingers around your throat.
“I asked you a question, slut.” Toji asks through gritted teeth. “He didn’t make you cum did he?”
“N-no daddy! He didn’t!”
Toji slams into you, bottoming out. “Then. Why. Would. You. Bother?” Thrusting into you with every word.
Tears spill out of your eyes, your mouth is open as Toji drills into you. His thumb finds your clit and starts circling it. You thrust your hips upwards, chasing your high. Your stomach flutters, and your cheeks grow hot.
“You wanna cum huh? Such a greedy girl. Fuckin’ cum all over this cock then girl.” Toji groans out.
“F-fuuuuuck! Daaaaadddyyyy!” You practically scream out, as your orgasm racks through your body. Your muscles tighten, your vision goes white, as pleasure consumes you. Your walls clench around Toji’s dick, as he fucks you through your orgasm.
When it subsides, and you’re twitching, and panting, Toji pulls out and flips you over. He pulls your hips up, so you’re arching your back, and grabs the leash of your collar with his free hand. He gives you no time to adjust, before he’s bullying his cock back into you.
He pulls on your leash, forcing your head up, and drool spills out of your mouth. You’re so fucked out already, your eyes rolling in the back of your head, stars clouding your vision.
Toji sends his hand flying towards your ass, leaving a mark, his pace quickens.
“F-fuuuuck daddy, slow down!” You groan. “M’gonna cum.”
Instead of slowing down, Toji somehow speeds up, spearing you on his cock. “Yeah? Gonna cum again pretty girl?”
Toji’s words send you into overdrive, and you squirt all over him. Your legs are shaking, your arms are burning from being restrained, but you wish you could stay like this forever. Being fucking into oblivion by Toji’s cock. But you can tell he’s getting close to his peak. His muscles are contracting, his thrusts are getting sloppier, he’s grunting and groaning.
“Fuck mama, M’gonna cum inside you. Fill you up. Put a baby in you. Make sure everyone knows you’re mine.” Toji moans as his seed shoots into you, painting your walls and kissing your womb.
Toji pulls out, watching his cum drip out of you, before finally letting you out of your restraints. Your senses slowly start to come back to you.
“So, I’m actually your girl huh?” You ask.
“Guess so. If it means you ain’t gonna be fucking that idiot again, then you’re my girl.” Toji replies before grabbing a towel, and heading to the bathroom. “Y’gonna join me?”
“Yeah just a minute.” You call back, before pulling your phone out. You open up your texts with Satoru, and type out a message.
-Your plan worked! You’re honestly the best! And tell Suguru he’s the best boyfriend ever for letting you pretend to fuck me.-
*******
Suguru Geto:
Geto regarded all of his followers in the same manner, monkeys. But they all served a purpose, so he allowed most of them to live. Piss him off though, and he would have you killed. All of them were interchangeable, he could kill all of them, only to have a new group flock in the next day.
You, however were different. Geto had found you, sheltering yourself from a rainstorm close to his dwelling. He had offered you a deal, shelter indefinitely, so long as you were either useful, or willing to follow his principles. You had agreed, and while you got settled, Geto manifested a Surveillance Curse, sending it into your room. You had managed to incapacitate it, meaning you had cursed energy, which meant you could be of slight use to him.
Geto would never admit it, but he was enthralled by you, the way you looked at him with admiration, the way you were always the first one in when he called everyone to come listen to a speech. The way his eyes would zero in on you.
So when you were absent from his preachings for a few days in a row, he found himself growing concerned. He sent one of the monkeys to find you, and see what was wrong. When that follower reported their findings, Geto executed them on the spot.
The monkey had followed you around the facility, until he watched you enter another followers chambers. He had watched through a slight opening in the curtain, as you shed your clothes and gave yourself to that other man.
Geto was furious. After all, you should be entirely devoted to him, allowing no other to have you in that manner. He was the one in charge, and to be disrespected by someone he allowed to grovel before him, who was beneath him, almost shattered his facade. Rather than succumbing to the anger, he pushed it aside, he would have to teach you what happens when your loyalty slips.
The next day Geto ensured you would be present, by having a different monkey go to your chambers and escort you. You took your usual seat, front row, but refused to even look at Geto. You were nervous and rightfully so. When the rest of his followers piled in he addressed the crowd.
“Hello everyone.” Geto began, a fake smile plastered on his face. “Today you shall witness a special performance.” Geto stood up and pointed at you. “Would you be so kind as to come up to the stage?”
Your stomach flipped, anxiety coursing throughout your body. You gulped. “Me?” You squeaked out.
“Yes, you.” Geto dialed up the warmth in his voice. “Come onto the stage.”
Every fiber of your being is screaming at you to not go up there. But what else could you do? You knew if you ran, Geto would catch you, and kill you right then and there. Your legs shake as you stand up, time seeming to stand still as you take a step.
Geto’s lips curl as he sees the fear on your face, the sheen of sweat coating your body as you unsteadily step towards him. His eyes zeroing in on yours, like a predator, ready to pounce on their prey.
When you’re finally on the stage, Geto cups your chin with one of his large hands, forcing you to look up at him. He smiles down at you, but his eyes have malicious intent behind them. The hairs on your arm stand on end. Geto uses his hand to guide your gaze to the crowd, when you notice the man you had been sleeping with in the middle of the crowd, being held in place by two bigger men. You gasp when Geto jerks your head back towards him, and presses his lips against your ear.
“I hope you’re not shy in front of a crowd. Gotta show everyone what happens when they can’t keep control of their dicks. I’m not going to hurt you though.” Geto whispers, before pulling away and addressing his followers.
“Do I not provide for you? Have I not cured you of your ailments, your sicknesses? And yet, it seems that one of you displays no loyalty. No gratitude for what I have done for him. He must think of me as below him, inferior to him. Why else would he take what’s not his? You all serve me, you all belong to me, and you’re all mine to use as I please.” Geto’s voice is low, all the cheer drained from it.
He tosses the mic down to the floor, his body towering over yours.
“Strip.” That singular word. Your body felt like a shock ran through it. There was no way Geto was serious. This had to be some sort of joke. You couldn’t move.
“Don’t make me repeat myself.” Geto warned.
Your hands shook as you began undressing yourself, the robes you wore falling into a pool at your feet. You unclasp your bra and shrug it off your shoulders, using an arm to cover your nipples. You inhale harshly as Geto pulls your arm away from your body, the cool air making your nipples erect. Your lip trembles as you pull your panties down, exposing yourself to the hungry eyes of Geto’s followers. Your thighs close on instinct, and you close your eyes, willing this to be a dream.
“Open your legs.” Geto commands, his focus solely on you. You do so, and Geto uses a finger to swipe at your entrance. “Look at you, you’re already dripping, pathetic.”
Geto pushes his finger into your mouth, never breaking eye contact with you. A shiver runs down your spine at the intrusion, but you also feel aroused. Being in front of all of these people, while Geto invaded your body, just did something to you. You decide to suck on his finger, and he smirks at you.
He pulls his finger out of your mouth and stands behind you, before slapping your ass. He snaps a finger, and two followers bring out a chair. Geto sits down, and pulls you onto his lap.
“You ready to put on a show?” Geto whispers in your ear, and you can’t help to bite your lip and nod.
Geto uses a hand to lift your hips up, while he pulls his dick out, and slowly lowers you onto it. A moan spills out of your lips as he fills you up. Fuck he’s so thick, you’re so full already and he’s not even halfway inside. His fingers snake around your throat, as he tips your head back, as he pushes the rest of his length into you.
“Mmm fuck Geto, y’so big.” You moan out. Your eyes trail over the crowd. Every single one of them has lust in their eyes, they look so hungry. The men wishing they were the ones fucking you, the women cursing you for getting what they always desired.
Geto bounces you on his dick, causing your head to reel. You had always fantasized about fucking him, touching yourself to the thoughts. You never imagined you’d actually get the opportunity, so you had settled with the first guy to pay you attention. You had needs after all, but fuck, you were sure you’d never want to fuck anyone else as long as you lived.
“Fuck you’re so tight, you’re taking me so good.” Geto grunts in your ear, before nibbling on it. Your hand shoots down to your clit, rubbing circles around it. Geto slams into you, pulling moans from your throat as you work at your bud. Your stomach begins to coil, you’re so fucking close. A sheen of sweat is coating your body, your eyes are half lidded, you’re already feeling fucked out.
“Uhnnn, G-Geto, m’gonna cum, fuck don’t stop.” You whimper, as stars cloud your vision. You clutch onto Geto’s robes as your orgasm ravages you. Your mouth is open in an O, and you fucking squirt, soaking Geto’s pants and spraying the crowd.
“Fucking good girl!” Geto squeezes your throat as he fucks you through your orgasm, feeling his own approaching. He finally got to fuck you, and put his followers in their place. Before he loses all sense a rationality he summons a cursed spirit, and targets the man who had the courage to sleep with you.
Blood splatters onto both of you. And that sends Geto into overdrive, his hips rutting into you, as his orgasm courses through him. You feel his dick pulsing as his cum shoots into you, thick ropes, coating your walls.
You haven’t even come down yet, before Geto pulls you off his dick, grabs your hair and pushes your face into the pile of your fluids.
“Clean up your mess, monkey.” And you do so, licking up both of your fluids. When you’re done, Geto snakes his arm around your waist. “You’ll be staying in my chambers now, and I’ll have you whenever I desire.”
“If anyone of you chooses to be disloyal, the same fate will await you. Dismissed.” Geto addresses the crowd one last time, before exiting the stage with you in tow.
*********
Satoru Gojo:
Satoru Gojo was very lonely, after all his girlfriend and his best friend had been assigned a mission together, and he was stuck at Jujutsu Tech by himself. There was absolutely no reason why he couldn’t have gone with the two of you, which he made sure to whine about.
“No fair, why do you two get to go out of country and I don’t.” He had groaned.
“It’s a surveying mission, Satoru. We need to be stealthy.” Suguru had explained.
“Okay, and? What’s your point?” Satoru had pouted.
“You’re not exactly the quietest, or sneakiest person. The minute we’d find our objective, you’d come barrelling in with-“ you had mimicked his hand signs. “Blue”
Both you and Suguru had started laughing your asses off right then, and Satoru couldn’t help but join in.
But now, he was bored, bored , b-o-r-e-d. And he figured that now was as good a time as any to use one of his handy techniques; teleportation. He had badgered Suguru, until he had informed him of where exactly they were going, with a “What if something happens to you two?” So he knew exactly where he was going.
He figured he would surprise the two of you, maybe go out shopping, and he could even help the two of you finish the mission faster.
It didn’t take long for him to arrive at the location, which was not what he was expecting. There were a ton of dilapidated old buildings, and there was a ton of residuals, both human and curse alike. Satoru frowned before setting out to follow your residuals, and he noticed the two of you, before you noticed him.
Satoru couldn’t explain what made him duck at the side of a building and watch the two of you, but now he was pissed.
Satoru saw the two of you fending off a Cursed Spirit, you were distracting it, while Suguru had begun to manipulate it. Satoru watched as his best friend collapsed the curse into itself, making it take the shape of a ball. He watched as you cheered him on. He watched as Suguru swallowed the curse in one go, and your eyes lit up, and you gushed at how great it is he can swallow curses. He watched as Suguru put his arm over your shoulders and the two of you walked away. He could hear you still ecstatic about how great Geto was at swallowing.
Satoru put a plan in motion at that very moment, and decided to wait a few hours to enact it. He didn’t know which he was more hurt by; the blatant lie involving the mission, you swooning over his best friend, or the way Suguru just draped his arm over you.
~~~~
You had just finished in the shower, and decided to get comfy for the night, the mission for today was finished, Suguru was resting in his hotel room, and you planned to order room service. You wrapped yourself in the satin robe the hotel had provided. You were about to flop down on the bed, when you heard a knock at the door.
Figuring it was probably Suguru, you got up and unlocked the door, without even looking through the peep hole. You swung it open to be met by… your boyfriend? What was he doing here?
“Satoru?! What- how?” You babbled, eyes widening.
Satoru said nothing as he pushed the door open and stepped in, before searching your hotel room for something. You cocked an eyebrow while watching him in silence.
“What’s going on?! Is everything okay? What are you looking for?” You ask.
Satoru stands before you, glaring at you, his eyes seemingly filled with anger. He takes you in, seeing the worried expression, the way you chew your lip.
“Kneel.” Satoru commands.
“I-what? Kneel?” You sputter out, your cheeks growing hot.
Satoru grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling you down until you kneel. “I said kneel.”
You were still totally confused as to why Satoru showed up, but the way he was acting right now had you nervous, but kind of turned on. The two of you usually had sex at least once daily, and you had been on this mission for two and a half weeks now.
You looked up at Satoru through your eyelashes and he smirked at you. He took your hand in his, pulling it towards his crotch, forcing you to feel his erection. He pulled the waistband of his sweats down, freeing his cock from the confines of his pants.
“Open your mouth.” Satoru orders, and when you do, he pushes his cock into your mouth, giving you no time to adjust as he starts thrusting. “Mmm fuck, that’s my good girl, swallowing my cock.”
Satoru’s dirty talk always had you practically creaming, you squeeze your thighs together and moan around his cock, as you suck, using your tongue to increase his pleasure.
His hold on your hair tightens, keeping you in place so he is fully in control. Fuck your mouth made him practically delirious, the way you devoured him as though he was your last meal. When you bring your hand up to stroke him, he bats it away. “Nuh-uh. Just your mouth, see if you can handle swallowing all of me.”
As he says that, he pushes himself deeper, past your uvula. You gag, and your mouth waters, as his cock slides down your throat. Your eyes are watering, but you know you can take him. You look up at him to find him glaring down at you, his lip curled.
Satoru pulls out, before snapping his hips forward, fucking into your throat. He lets a groan escape, furrowing his brows. He wraps his free hand around your throat, feeling how it bulges as he throat fucks you.
He slows it down, only to bully his cock impossibly further down your throat. You’re light headed, his dick cutting off oxygen, and his hand wrapped around your throat making it even worse.
He pulls out of your throat, allowing you a moment to catch your breath, before ramming his length right back down your throat. “Mmmmmph.” You groan against his cock as tears spill out of your eyes.
“Aw what’s wrong Princess?” Satoru coos. “Thought ya liked swallowing. Or is that only when Suguru does it, hmm?”
Your blood runs cold, and your eyes widen.
“F-fuck.” Satoru moans, while continuing to abuse your throat. “Y-yeah, I saw you two. Fuckin’ lucky that y’make me feel s’good.”
You couldn’t even explain the truth. How Suguru needed you to support him after your battle. That’s the only reason he had his arm around you. How after seeing the face of disgust he made, you tried to distract him by telling him how cool it was that he could swallow curses. You tried to pull away, hoping to explain, but Satoru held you in place. Tears flowed down your face.
“You cryin’? That’s rich. Think you’re real smooth huh? Like I wouldn’t have seen it with my six eyes. Just means, I gotta f-fuck, remind you who you belong to.” Satoru growls out.
Again, your thighs grind together, you’re so desperate for stimulation. You shove your fingers between your legs, rubbing at your clit before Satoru pulls your hand away, smirking.
“Nah, you don’t deserve to touch yourself. If ya wanna cum y’better make sure to swallow all my cum.” Satoru’s thrusts become sloppy, he feels his balls clench, and he bottoms out, pushing his cock as far as it will go, before sloppily humping against your face.
“Ahn ah, fuck.” Satoru hisses as he feels his balls release. “Fuck take it all, fuckin don’t waste a single drop.”
His release fills up your throat as he pulls out, somehow spilling more into your mouth. You swallow, and instantly start coughing and sputtering. Air fills your lungs, and you inhale and exhale deeply.
Satoru stuffs his dick back into his pants, before grabbing your phone and firing off a text.
“S-Satoru, what are you doing?” You whisper, your throat to raw to properly speak.
“Told Suguru to come over. Think I need to teach him a lesson too. And see if his swallowing is worth the hype.” Satoru says as he ruffles your hair. “Maybe if you’re a good girl, I’ll let you cum.”
You feel yourself dripping, your hole clenching around nothing, as you hear a knock at the door.
*********
Choso Kamo:
Choso had wanted to help you train but the fact is: he is not good at training people. He just lacks the finesse to take what he’s doing and slow it down for you.
You were a curse user, part of Geto’s group, you had participated in the Night Parade of 100 Demons, and had found Geto shortly afterwards. You hadn’t questioned how he was still alive, assuming the stitches were from healing himself up. You met Choso right after he gained a body, and seemingly formed a bond. After Choso had exposed Geto as a fake, you immediately turned on Geto, allying yourself with Choso.
Choso glances over to where Noritoshi is guiding you, and instantly starts to feel annoyed. Surely you could move your body on your own? Why were his hands all over you? What was so funny that you were giggling over?
Choso huffs out a sigh, before turning away from you and Noritoshi, figuring he may as well train also. He was sure of his abilities but it didn’t hurt to improve them, and he could also use that as an opportunity to get his frustrations out.
After a while of training, and continuing to ruminate, he decides enough is enough. He had talked to Yuji about how you made him feel, and Yuji had told him he probably has feelings for you. Yuji had then sat Choso down and made him sit through several romance movies. After that he had directed him to Hakari, for additional knowledge, because Yuji “hasn’t really done that stuff”.
Choso made his way to the door of your quarters quickly, and knocked softly on the door. You pulled the door open, and beamed up at him before pulling him into a hug and inviting him in.
Choso could smell your perfume on you, the aroma getting to his head. He was so captivated by every part of you. You were wearing a very small pair of shorts and a crop top, both of which hugged your curves. He was almost salivating.
“What’s up Choso?” You asked him with a smile.
Choso didn’t speak, instead he snaked his arm around your waist, pulling you towards him. His lips crashed against yours, and for a brief moment you were still, before opening your mouth, allowing Choso’s tongue free rein of your mouth. You moan into his mouth, as his tongue explores. When you suck on his tongue, he groans, and his hips thrust against you, grinding his erection against your thighs.
Choso breaks the kiss, a string of saliva still connecting your lips, and trails his lips down to your neck. He’s sloppy, biting down and sucking, licking, all while whining, fucking whining, because he wants all of you, all at once, forever. He pulls up your crop top, exposing your plush breasts, and pulls away to admire them.
His mouth actually salivates. “C-can I?”
“Sure.” You giggle, your cheeks growing warm. You allow Choso to guide you to your bed, and he sinks down beside you.
Choso feels light headed as he takes a nipple into his mouth. Fuck, your skin tasted so sweet. He feels you grab onto his hair as you let out a moan when he nips gently at the bud. He can’t help but to roll his eyes back into his head, as he squeezes your other breast with his hand. He releases your nipple from his mouth and bites down on your shoulder, and when your blood enters his mouth, he loses all sense of rationality.
He pushes you down on the bed, pulling off your shorts, trailing bites all the way down from your shoulder to your waist, before sitting on his knees on the floor. He grabs your thighs, pulling your heat towards his mouth, and spreading your legs.
He slowly licks at your entrance, causing you to arch your back, and his mouth waters at the taste. He uses a hand to spread your folds open, before plunging his tongue inside of you. You both moan at the same time, Choso grinding his hips against the bed frame. He’s sloppy as he fucks you with his tongue, his saliva mixing with your slick. His free hand comes up to play with your nipple.
Your hands are wrapped in his hair, as you allow pleasure to wrack through you. “Nngh, fuck Choso, feels so good.”
The praise goes right to his head, and his dick, somehow making him even harder. He pulls his tongue out of your cunt, and brings it to your clit, licking it slowly, almost teasingly. Your moans fill the room. Choso pulls his dick out, and starts stroking it slowly.
“P-please, faster Cho.” You groan.
Choso obliges, sucking your clit into his mouth, rolling his tongue over it, swirling it around, until he presses his tongue flat against it and starts moving his head up and down, left and right.
You’re so close, your hips matching Choso’s movements as you grind on his face. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt an orgasm like this coming on.
“Oh fuck- fuckfuckfuck, Choso, fuck!” Your mind goes blank as you cum on Choso’s tongue. Your body twitches, your hole clenches around nothing, and you pull Choso by the hair. Your thighs try to close, but Choso is using his hands to keep them open. A few tears fall from your eyes due to the intensity of your orgasm.
Choso keeps eating you out, he doesn’t even need to touch himself at this point. He practically slurps down your orgasm. He takes a hand off your thighs, and bring it towards you entrance. He pushes one finger in, relishing how your warmth sucks him in. He whines again, he can’t wait to feel your walls against his aching cock. He adds a second finger, curling them inside you, hitting your g-spot. His other hand is pressed on your belly, and he can feel his fingers inside you. He loves the way your muscles clench around his fingers, as he probes you.
He pulls his face away from you, replacing his tongue with his thumb, moving it up and down, and in circles over your clit. He watches your face contort, your eyes squeeze shut, your hands now grasping onto the blanket.
“Fuck, you’re so perfect.” Choso remarks. “I need you to cum again for me.”
Choso’s hand fucks into you skillfully, pulling his fingers out a little bit, before pushing them back in and repeatedly curling them. His pace on your clit is perfect, and goosebumps prick your skin as you approach another orgasm.
“D-don’t stop.” You cry out as pure pleasure shoots through you. Your toes curl, your hips thrust upwards, your whole body spasms, your eyes roll back into your head. You feel Choso’s lips meet yours and open your mouth. You taste yourself on him as his tongue fucks in and out of your mouth.
When he pulls away, you open your eyes, and watch as he palms his cock. Your mouth waters, his dick is absolutely perfect, pale, veiny, and his tip is absolutely oozing pre cum.
Choso lines himself up, and as he pushes into you it takes everything in his being to not cum right then and there. He pulls out, and pushes back in, fucking you slowly, savouring the feeling, he bites on his lower lip, while watching himself slowly fuck you. He brings his thumb to your clit, swirling it over your bud.
“Nngh! Cho I-I can’t cum again. S’too many.” You’re so sensitive right now, overstimulation hitting you hard.
“Fuck yes, y-you can babe. N-need you to cum all over me. Please.” Choso begs, and fuck maybe you could cum again.
You allow your body to relax, your brain to shut down, but something feels weird, like a sort of pressure.
“F-feels weird Cho I-“
Choso bottoms out and fucks into you roughly, increasing the strength of his thrusts. It feels like something inside you snaps, and you squirt all over Choso. You’d never done that before, and feel slightly embarrassed but Choso is loving it.
“Oh fuck, yeah cum all over me.” Choso feels himself ready to burst. His dick contracts, and oh my god, the feeling of cumming inside you was too much. “M’cumming inside you. Oh fuck I need you, fuck I love you, fuck please please don’t ever leave me.”
You milk him for every single drop that he’s got, and when he stops thrusting you wrap your arms around him, pulling his chest over your body, and kissing him sweetly. You’re both panting as you come down. When you’re finally coherent enough to speak, you cup his face in your hands.
“I won’t ever leave you,” you whisper. “I love you too.”
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polished [ simon 'ghost' riley ]
read too many mafia simon fics [ more specifically @cordeliawhohung. omg j the thought of her fics gets me all bothered.] ANWAYS. bodyguard/underdog fic of him... ugh, got me drooling. i can't help but ramble about him like this.
cw: suggestive, public teasing/mentions of public sex, some fluff, mafia au, established relationship, mostly just headcannons/rambling, no real plot, obsessive-ish simon, fem! reader.
simon "takes care of what belongs to him" riley who doesn't let you even see the bill of the restaurant he takes you to. only taking you to restaurants that have his card at registration, that don't ever print and only e-mail receipts.
who acts like all hell will break loose if you even try to pull out your wallet, immediately wrapping his large hand around yours, smiling as his gruff voice mumbles to the waitress, or cashier, or bartender, or whoever else would be cashing you out. even when you pout and whine, he chuckled, his lips curving into a smile and he pulls his mask just over them, to shush you with a kiss.
simon riley who never lets you slip away from his touch, smiling as he lets you sit on his meaty thigh, your back pressed against his broad shoulders as you sit in the private room with some... friends. you knew otherwise, with the way the women changed every hour, but you didn't. you stayed, the hand splayed around your waist unmoving as his masked face trails its lips down your spine, kissing the nape of you neck through the fabric.
who makes sure to schedule every appointment for his girl. your nails, your brows, you spa, anything else you want, need, desire. he'll do it, he'll wash more money, wake a little earlier, blaming it on a morning run, bidding you goodbye with a kiss on your forehead, closing your bedroom door to load his gun. but it didn't matter, not when he got to see your cute little face warm up and smile, thanking him in that sweet coo as you tugged gently at his collar; a kiss as a thank you.
simon riley who makes sure you never, ever, ever are alone, unsafe, without him. he goes everywhere with you, the grocery store, he loiters at your little diner as your best tipping customer, sitting beside you as you get your nails done. and even when you think it's just you and your girlfriends, giggling and drinking tea from cute china cups, he's had some snake through the security cameras for him to watch. to keep you safe.
who never lets you take charge, who makes sure he can fulfill all of your desires. learns all your reactions, how the way his mask rustles against your cheek makes you blush as he whispers into your ears. how you always bat your eyelashes when you get needy. how you can barely last an hour with the way his rough fingers tap at your waist in the private club, watching the other couples flirt. how you let him tease you on his lap, as if no one else could see the way his fingers snuck under your skirt. how you always forget your own name when you feel the knot tightening in your belly, so impatient as he forced you to wait until you were in your own bed to satisfy you.
simon riley that learned how to cook your favorite breakfast so every morning after. bringing you tea, a plate of food, and a kiss to bed as you woke up, marked up and sore. you happily tucked you into his chest as he held a silver spoon to your lips.
who loves you dearly, the apple of his eyes, the sun to his moon, his woman.
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈
i didn't mean to make it this long... hehe.
if you recognize the car in the banner... i fucking love you. [pls buy me one.]
edit: i literally forgot to fix the tag before i posted imma cry.
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