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#not sure if i like this or not but here it is
txttletale · 2 days
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i have no patience for people talking about violent rhetoric on the left really because every day i read the news and every politician in this country and in most others is saying 'we gotta kill more people'. they use different words to say it. obviously you're not supposed to just say 'we gotta kill more people'. but there's all kinds of polite and okay ways to say it.
'we need to control our borders' is a phrase which here means 'we gotta kill more people, we gotta drown more refugees in boats, we gotta send more people back to warzones and governments that want them dead, we gotta make more camps and we gotta make the camps more fatal'.
'we need to be tougher on welfare fraud' is a phrase which here means 'we gotta kill more people, we gotta make disabled people do more song and dance routines to convince some indifferent bureaucrat that they deserve to eat and we gotta make sure that the bureaucrats say 'no', we gotta starve those kids more, we gotta make sure families and kids and old people are freezing in the winter'.
'we need to tackle violent crime' is a phrase which here means 'we gotta kill more people, specifically Black people, unless we said Terrorism instead of Crime, in which case it's specifically muslims, shoot them, imprison them, surveil them, disappear them, brutalize them, whatever.'
and of course none of this is Violent Speech. this is Sensible Political Discourse. these are Common-Sense Policy Goals. we gotta kill more people: that's an electable policy. you can always count on we gotta kill more people as a platform. we gotta kill more people is gonna sweep the nation baby. we gotta kill more people 2024 -- vote now on your phones. now slow down. hold your horses. did that guy just say we gotta kill more people? well that just wont do. thats why im running on a platform of we gotta kill more people for cheaper, to stop this wasteful madness. and the people just keep dying but seems like there's still some of them left so i guess we're just circling back around to our main thing which is: we gotta kill more people
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yuujispinkhair · 2 days
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Yakuza King!Sukuna lives a dangerous life. That's why he only wants you to leave his penthouse with your bodyguard. But what if you crave a treat from your favorite shop just down the street and go on your own?
Based on this lovely ask I received from @subarusuguru. Thank you so much for sharing it with me!! ♥️
Pairing: Yakuza!Sukuna x Reader (female) Genre: smut + fluff Word Count: 900 Warnings: 18+, smut, spanking + pussy spanking, edging, fingering, dirty talk, use of the pet name daddy. It isn't explicitly stated in this story, but Sukuna and Reader are in an established relationship and have a safe word, etc. Everything happens with mutual consent. Minors don't interact. Divider @/benkeibear
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Yakuza!Sukuna loves you. He loves you so much. You are his whole world, and he needs to protect you, especially when he has so many enemies because of his line of work.
Usually, Sukuna enjoys a little disobedience when it comes from you. He loves to tease you about being a brat and enjoys playfully putting you back in your place. But things are different when he is actually worried about you like he is tonight after finding out you went to a shop all alone, without one of Sukuna's drivers, and even worse, without your bodyguard.
Sukuna knows that he is to blame, too, because he didn't want to scare you and, therefore, didn't tell you how grave the threat is at the moment. But he still can't stop himself from spiraling when he hears you so foolishly went out on your own. 
"This has to stop. If I tell you not to leave the house on your own, you will be a good girl and stay inside. And if you really need to leave, you will call Nobara. Do you understand that?"
He can see you gulp hard when you hear how stern he sounds. His maroon eyes, which are usually so warm when they look at you, are cold and hard right now. Tonight, the man sitting across from you isn't just your charming and loving husband. Tonight, you are talking to the King of Tokyo's Underworld, and he will do what he has to do to ensure you stay safe.
That's why Sukuna pats his lap and points an elegant tattooed finger to his fine black suit pants.
"Come here. I will make sure you remember to do as I tell you from now on."
You squeal when he grabs you and bends you over his lap, lifting your skirt and pulling your pretty lace panties down. And you squeal even louder when Sukuna's large hand connects firmly with your juicy ass cheek.
You make a cute sound, a mix between a hiss and a moan, when Sukuna spanks you again, several times in a row, before he uses his other hand to spread your pussy lips and watch the glistening wetness gathering there, your arousal so evident. You are breathing heavily when Sukuna runs a teasing fingertip over your creamy folds before he pinches your wet little clit, eliciting a loud gasp from you.
"I am doing this for you, darling. Don't you understand that I need to protect you? The Zenins are out there, trying to take everything from me. What do you think will happen if you run into them?"
You whimper softly, and Sukuna kneads the plump flesh of your naked ass cheek before he pulls his hand away and adds in a low, stern voice, emphasizing every word,
"That's why," his palm connects firmly with your naked ass again, "you have to," another firm spank, "learn how to obey me."
Sukuna wishes he didn't have to do this. He doesn't want to bend you over his knees like this and spank you like some naughty brat.
He doesn't want to tease you for hours like this, torturing you with pleasure and pain. Rubbing your swollen clit, and occasionally pushing a finger into your tight wet cunt, pumping it in and out of your obscenely squelching wetness, only to pull away again anytime he feels you beginning to tighten around him.
He doesn't want to punish you, making you whine loudly when he lets his large palm connect firmly with your spread pussy.
Sukuna doesn't want to spank and edge you until you are a crying, needy mess who promises him over and over again that you won't leave the penthouse on your own again.
"Please, Sukuna! Please...I... please... I won't go out on my own again! Please, please let me cum, Daddy! I'll be your good girl!"
Sukuna hates having to use his power and strength like that. But he also knows that pain is a good way to ensure a lesson is learned. And at least this is a pleasurable pain, judging by the way you mewl when he pushes two long fingers deep into your soaking wet cunt and fucks you hard and deep with them, torturing your g-spot unrelentingly while his other hand spanks your sensitive flesh.
Your whole body shakes as you cum all over his long fingers that are stuffing your cunt while Sukuna's other hand connects hard with your ass again, spanking and fingering you to an orgasm that makes you cry out loudly.
Sukuna lets out a long breath. The hand that spanked you is brushing gently over your abused skin now, caressing it lovingly, while he slowly fucks you through your orgasm. His voice is low, sensual, and full of love,
"Yes, just like that, sweetheart. You can be so good for me when you want. And I hate having to act like such an asshole. I love you, darling. I just want you to be safe. Do you understand that?"
He smiles when you answer him with a voice thick with tears but also filled with that sweet euphoria you always get after Sukuna made you cum.
"Hmm, yes, I know. I'm sorry for being so reckless, Kuna. I love you too."
You scramble to get up, and Sukuna quickly helps you, wrapping his strong arms safely around you and pulling you up so you straddle his lap, your wet cunt soaking his fine suit pants.
You smile at him and wrap your arms around his neck,
"But, next time, just tell me the whole truth, so I know how dangerous things are at the moment. You shouldn't keep these things from me, baby. I can take it, you know?"
Sukuna's lips lift in an amused smirk, his large hands sprawling over your naked ass, pulling you closer, his lips ghosting over your neck. He presses a tender kiss to your pulse point while lifting his hips to let you feel the large, hard bulge in his pants, his throbbing cock pressing against your hot wet cunt, only separated by the soaked-through fabric of his suit pants and boxer briefs.
"First, show me how you can take Daddy's cock, and then I will tell you everything."
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FUCKKK I NEED HIM!!!! Yakuza!Sukuna still manages to make my head spin, and I am so happy I could indulge in this!! Thank you so much for the prompt!! And thank you so much for reading!!
Comments and reblogs would be very sweet ♥️♥️
You can find more Yakuza King!Sukuna stories here
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chuluoyi · 1 day
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。.*。☆゚ 🕰️ 03.12 a.m
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tw: pregnancy. just a little something based on ask~ gojo annoys you on daily basis, so now you return the favor and he can't refuse it bc you're his baby mama😋
a part of gojo's love entries
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“satoru— your baby is hungry,” you pouted, poking his cheek repeatedly. “sa-to-ru!!”
it was 3 in the morning, and ideally, you would have been sleeping... only that suddenly you were awoken by rumbles from your growing belly.
yet your husband was still sound asleep without any care in the world, prompting you to poke him until you succeeded in making him hear you out.
satoru begrudgingly cracked his eyes open, still having his face tucked under the blanket and yawning. “ngh, sweets… what is it?”
his sleepy voice was thick, low and raspy. usually you’d swoon and leave a hickey or two on his neck but not now, as the overwhelming hunger made you almost curl.
“baby is craving mochi,” you said, eyes shining up to him ever so innocently. “get it for me, satoruuu.”
“oh?” if he wasn’t awake before, now he was after hearing your nagging tone drawling his name. he faced you and drew you closer. “what do you want again, hmm?”
“ice cream mochi!!”
“oooh that.” satoru scratched his head at the memory of him eating the last of it yesterday. “but we ran out of them, sweetheart… wait till morning, yeah? i’ll go to market to get some.”
“but...”
“can’t baby wait a few more hours, hmm?”
“no! want it— now!”
satoru blinked at your insistence. you looked positively adorable while sulking at him too.
“why mochi all of sudden, huh?” he decided to humor you. “you used to say they taste bland.”
“that’s because of your sperm infecting me,” you sullenly accused. “and don’t pretend you haven’t been feeding me mochi for weeks. baby likes it more than i thought.”
“hey! don’t bash my sperm! they did no wrong and complete the deed splendidly!”
“you’re just a one-time donor, don’t be smug.”
he whined and you huffed, before suddenly your stomach grumbled loudly and you curled up. “mmhm.”
“hey… what’s wrong?” satoru quickly sat up and placed his hand on your baby bump. “really hungry? wait, i’ll get you something to nibble on first.”
he rummaged through his work uniform and found several bite-sized chocolate bars he brought around, and unwrapped the foil. “here.”
you immediately devoured the treat to sate your hunger, but still, your baby longed for more—
“mochi…” you mumbled despondently, your expression turning heartbroken. and one second later satoru realized how much he wanted to squeeze your cheeks, and relented.
“okay, okay, sweets~” he gave your head several comforting pats, making you look up. “i’ll go and get the mochi, yeah? you stay put and wait for me, 'kay?”
“yay.” a little smile bloomed in your face and satoru chuckled, finding you so unbearably endearing.
and so, for you, he ventured out to the closest 24-hour convenience store, picking up some ice cream mochi along with other treats to replenish your stock, before teleporting back home.
he was expecting that you'd still be all sulky while waiting for him, but instead, he found you peacefully asleep, hogging his pillow.
each breath that caused your chest to rise and fall made you appear all the more vulnerable and soft in his eyes.
you looked so irrevocably precious to him. his sweet little wife... in that moment, satoru felt like he was the luckiest man alive, getting to have you as his.
“you naughty girl.” he let out an amused laugh before reclaiming his spot next to you. the hold you had over him— you made him go through the cold night air, and now you were monopolizing his pillow and he had to resume sleeping without one at all.
and yet all he could feel was love. for you and your baby, as he pulled you close to his chest.
“both of you sure love teaming up against me, huh?”
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welldrawnfish · 1 day
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HOW DO WE EVEN PUT THIS INTO WORDS, HOW IS IT EVEN REAL?? LIKE ITS BARELY BEEN 6 MONTHS! You know we thought wed be nobody here! That out art is awash in a sea of better trans artists! that we had nothing worthwhile to say!! Well not only did you prove us wrong but We are friends and basically new found family with so many trans artists and many of them looked up to US??? MEETING THEM HAS BEEN THE BEST PART OF ALL OF THIS I LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH! WE ARE SO PROUD TO BE A TRANS VOICE. WE WANT TO MAKE SURE ITS A GREAT VOICE. YOU WORKING ON AN ART BOOK FOR TWIG, BOTH FOR DEVELOPMENT AND INCENTIVE TO RAISE MONEY FOR THE PROJECT! SUCCUBUS CONTRACT MIGHT BE PRINTED INTO A ZINE TO BE SOLD AT CONS! AND ALSO POSTED ONLINE! We have merch, stickers, posters, in the works!! We have games and other fantasy trans projects! That goal about making postive gender bend genre stuff, we can DO THAT NOW! the only one bad thing is We hurt ourselves running so the marathon will be a next year thing!!! We didnt want to bum out you all so weve been trying to hide it but doesnt look like we'll be recovered in time! You all have made our lifes so much better, on our hardest days we come here, we read the comments, the asks, we do it for you! and you make it so rewarding! like... THANK YOU!! FROM ALL OF US! SO MUCH LOVE! From: Athena, Olivia, V, Maddie, Ranma, REM, Esmeralda and Our Littles! THANK YOU FOR EXISTING!!!
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cold-kitty · 3 days
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Due to very, very high demand for part two of my Yan!Mermaid (looks at my notifications and cries), here it is.
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Contains: NSFW, dub-con, same warnings as the last one other than that
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Yan!Mermaid who starts clinging to your leg as you sigh, so happy that you're giving him another chance.
Yan!Mermaid who watches your hand signals and listens to your foreign words, not understanding a thing but tries to listen for your sake.
Yan!Mermaid who forces himself not to straddle you when he sits next to you, his tail swaying slowly behind him.
Yan!Mermaid who watches you fish all day, just enjoying your presence.
Yan!Mermaid who pouts and whines and clings to you when you try to leave. no no no no no! don't leave! i don't wanna be alone! stay with me, i promise to keep you warm!
Yan!Mermaid who tries to climb into the trunk of your car, and somehow manages.
Yan!Mermaid who happily slides out of your truck when you arrive home, smiling wide.
Yan!Mermaid who's surprised when you don't seem happy too. you look mad, but you suck it up and groan.
Yan!Mermaid who doesn't like how you put him in a tank with the fish you caught, he wants to sleep in your bed!
Yan!Mermaid who climbs out of the tank when you're asleep and crawls across the floor to your room, curling up in bed with you.
Yan!Mermaid who lets his mind wander to when he was grinding against you, how good it felt. y-your skin is so w-warm and soft... a-ah...
Yan!Mermaid who is immediately worked up again, pressing himself against you tight.
Yan!Mermaid who lets his hands greedily trail over you, gently squeezing your thighs and watching the flesh bounce back into place.
Yan!Mermaid who hesitantly pulls down your pants. he promises himself that he's just looking, but he can't resist the temptation. s-so pretty...
Yan!Mermaid who starts by squishing the flesh of your ass, watching it jiggle. he continues to do that for a while, almost mesmerized. he loves watching you squirm in your sleep too.
Yan!Mermaid who sticks his fingers in his mouth, sucking on them and getting them wet.
Yan!Mermaid who starts by pushing one finger into you, slowly so he doesn't hurt you. he watches how your unconscious body squirms and reacts to the intrusion.
Yan!Mermaid who slowly pushes another finger into you, but that wakes you up. you look behind you almost immediately, a horrified look on your face.
Yan!Mermaid who expects you to hurt him, staring at you with wide and fearful eyes. he starts moving his fingers nonetheless, hoping that it might calm you down, twisting and curling them with slight hesitation. oh please don't hate me! you're just so irresistible!
Yan!Mermaid who watches as your body starts to quiver softly, your head falling back into the pillow. you were giving up to the pleasure, even if reluctantly.
Yan!Mermaid who feels encouraged, his fingers thrusting fasted, twisting and curling them to his hearts content. he makes sure to get real close to you so he can hear all of your soft whimpers and moans. a-ah... keep making those sounds... so cute...
Yan!Mermaid who keeps this up until you cum, and oh my God is he so happy. he watches as you convulse softly, pulling his fingers out and licking them. he doesn't mind if it's nasty if it's you.
Yan!Mermaid who lowers himself down and starts licking up the cum that fell onto the bed.
Yan!Mermaid who pats your back reassuringly as he positions himself behind you, helping you out though the whole thing. stroking your hair, praising you in his language, kissing every inch of your body, going as slow as he can.
Yan!Mermaid who cuddles you the whole night after that, kissing you softly. he's so happy, so fucking happy. he finally got to mate with you like a real lover, even if it was only one short round.
(BONUS NSFW: Yan!Mermaid definitely does analingus, %100. Yan!Mermaid puts your needs and wants before his, if he wants to go fast and you want to go slow he goes slow. he hates seeing you in crying, so he refuses to overstimulate you, nothing rough or degrading, and he doesn't dare leave marks on you. Yan!Mermaid AFTERCARE, SO MUCH OF IT.)
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Does anyone know how mermaid dick works? Like honestly, how. Is it in the tail? Just hanging out there? HOW!?
~🐈‍⬛
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azzo0 · 2 days
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"Katsuki!" You called from the bedroom, lying on your stomach as you read a romance novel. You'd just seen a line you read a handful of times in other romance novels. It was a line that managed to make you smile like an idiot, with butterflies dancing in your stomach.
"What?" He yelled from the living room, where he repaired one of his gauntlets.
"C'mere for a sec," you got up with the book, and Katsuki walked into the room shirtless with a little grease on his chest and arms. Even better for your request. 
"What the fuck? You just called me in, and now yer pushin' me away?" He knitted his eyebrows when you pushed him out of the room.
"Katsuki, can you do this?" You handed him the book, and he took it, looking down at the page in confusion. 
"A lot is goin' on here, sweets. I'm a hero, not an actor." He said, cherry eyes scanning the page. 
"Oh, come on! I'm sure you can do this one." You pointed at the line, and he brought it closer to his face, reading it out loud, his eyebrows raising amusedly. 
"I looked up from my work when I heard the door open to see William. He stood in the doorway, one of his hands on the header above him. "Hey," he greeted-" Katsuki stopped to look at you, "I don't see what you want me to do? Stand in the door and say hi?"
"No, no. You're supposed to do what William did," you explained, demonstrating what you meant by showing him, even though your hand wouldn't reach for the header, "Get it?" 
"Hah? What's so special about it in the first place?" He asked, flipping the book shut and giving it back to you. 
"It's just sexy, okay?" You huffed, "I've read similar lines in many other books, and I just wanna know what it would be like when you do it."
"Fine," he grumbles, "Stand inside."
You happily skipped inside while he stood outside. He took a step closer and stood in the doorway. He brought his hand up and held the doorframe, thick bicep flexing in the process, revealing a few blond hair in his pit. He leaned closer to you, snaking a calloused hand to your back, roughly pulling you closer.
"This what ya wanted, hm?" He whispered into your ear, sending tingles down your spine. He smirked at your flustered state and snuck a peck to your lips. 
He chuckled at your stupor and turned around to leave. He glanced back, a triumphant smirk on his lips, "Let me know if there's somethin' else that William dude does. I can do it better than him anyway~"
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staryukis · 2 days
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✰ f!reader x roomie!gojo ✰ smut (MDNI), making out + dry-humping, satoru cums in his pants lololol (…but so do you) ++ here is some actual roomie!gojo writing based on this and this ...i wrote this with one hand btw ✰
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it always starts the same and ends the same— what started as an innocent movie night for you and your roommate ended with him pulling you into his lap for possibly the hundredth time in the last few weeks, his hands grabbing your waist firmly as you pressed yourself against his chest, making out like neither one of you had ever kissed anyone before.
satoru wouldn’t have it any other way. he hopes you don’t mind, either; though he’s sure that’s the case already, if the way you eagerly kiss him back is anything to go by.
the sound of your lips smacking against his is the only thing that resonates in your ears; the tv has long since drowned out behind you. you can feel your heartbeat steadily picking up, thrumming against your ribcage and muffling every other noise in the room that isn’t directly coming from satoru.
testing it out, your tongue swipes over his bottom lip briefly; you hear a small groan rumble in the back of his throat. just as you’d expected, the sound was as clear as day to you— it echoes in your mind and only serves to make you press yourself harder against his chest.
he hums again, hands tightening their grip around your waist, feeling his eyes roll back in his head even though they’re already closed. he’s certain that he’s died and gone to heaven, because the feelings swirling in his chest and low in his gut are so amazing it makes him feel like he’s floating— like he could walk on water and turn that very liquid into wine.
(he briefly wonders if that wine would taste as good as you do.)
there’s a moment where your lips slow, mouth parting further against him for a moment before you’re pulling back. it’s like clockwork— you both make out for a few minutes, you pull away for a breath of air, clear your throat, and then you climb off his lap. the two of you move on with the acknowledgement that the air around you is charged with something intense, and it’s part of the reason why he keeps coming back for more throughout the day.
he expected this already, so he keeps his eyes closed; savoring the feeling of your swollen lips for now, how plump they feel against his own as you pulled away from him. he can feel the string of your saliva connecting you two; he doesn’t need to open his eyes to see the way the thin liquid stretches until it bows and snaps, making his mouth feel wetter than it already was. his own lips part for a small breath of air, one hand subconsciously sliding up your back, and his eyes flutter open in mild surprise at what you do next.
he’d expected you to have climbed off his lap at this point, but when he opens his eyes he catches a glimpse of something in your own gaze before you’re leaning back in. maybe you’d been encouraged by the slide of his hand along your spine, arching into his touch and reaching out for more. he doesn’t really have the time to go over it in his head because all his thoughts are jumbled the very second he feels your lips pressing against his again.
okay, okay— this is fine, he’ll just kiss you back for a few more minutes and then you’ll probably want to pull away for real this time.
but that… doesn’t happen. he swipes his tongue over your lower lip again, and he feels his chest tighten when your lips part eagerly, accepting the slip of his tongue inside of your mouth. you both usually stop before it gets this far, this heavy, but right now he can’t bring himself to— and neither can you, apparently.
his tongue enters your mouth and swirls around yours, and you tighten your grip on his shoulders at the way the sensation shoots through your gut. it’s not long before you’re both panting loudly into the kiss, louder than ever— messily kissing each other and shoving your tongues down each other’s throats.
the air around you feels hotter, you feel hotter. satoru’s grip can’t seem to relax from the way he’s moving his hands erratically along your sides. everything is making your blood rush south and something pulses to life between your legs; and when you shift against his lap to press yourself further into him, that’s when he knows he’s too far gone— his cock immediately twitches in his pants.
he stutters, breaking the kiss briefly for a breath of air, but then you’re shifting over him again and he feels himself start to strain his pants further. he blinks, wanting to stop this before it gets too far with you, his roommate— but he’s acting on pure instinct and unbridled desire at this point. his head rolls back onto the cushion behind him, hands tightening around your waist to keep you still over his lap, chest rising and falling rapidly.
you breath fans across his neck with every pant that leaves your lips, and you blink at him for a moment. you have half a mind to climb off his lap now but there’s a dull ache low in your gut and, for some reason, you think he needs to be the one to do something about it.
“‘toru,” you mumbled, sliding a hand from his shoulder over to the side of his neck, cupping it gently. you hear the way his breath hitches, his adam’s apple bobbing over his throat as he swallows thickly before replying.
“jus— just a second, i’m—…” he stammers, swallowing again. unbeknownst to you, he’s trying to will his dick to soften up again (as if it’d been soft at all from the moment you climbed onto his lap, but that’s not the point). “i’m just catching my breath.”
you hum, somewhat uncertain. you decide not to question it, but you know there’s more to it when you try to move off him, only for him to pull you back down onto his thighs with a small grunt.
“sator—”
“wait, just—” he lifts his head up now, meeting your gaze. despite trying to relax himself he doesn’t want you to stop just yet; there’s this desperation in his eyes that only serves to make you throb harder, the urge to press your thighs together for some friction now stronger than ever. he feels your thighs clench around his own and he’s now given up entirely on trying to calm down.
your hand cupping the side of his neck slides to the back of his head, scratching your fingers along his scalp, and his breath hitches once more. your start at his undercut and move up to the longer strands of hair, and then you’re firmly gripping the back of his head and pulling him back in for another rough kiss before you can change your mind.
he groans this time, loud and unashamed, the sound rumbling from the back of his throat and slipping out past his parted lips. your hips shift over him again, moving closer to his abdomen, slotting right over his—
he freezes. you freeze. your lips slow to a stop but neither of you pull away, nor do you open your eyes. you wonder if satoru can feel you throbbing through the layers of fabric separating you two.
his eyebrows furrow for a moment, and he nips at your lower lip a little impatiently.
“do you want to sto—”
“no.”
your answer comes quick, firm and resolute. you swallow nervously for a moment, the ache between your legs only growing, and you can now feel the way his own arousal is growing steadily, too. you’re absolutely lightheaded.
he inhales sharply and then presses forward again, now pulling you ever closer above his crotch. your bodies are now completely flush together, lips moving in sync with each other, coaxing another noise to bubble up in satoru’s chest. you’re still panting and your hips jerk slightly on their own accord, a moan threatening to break past your lips at the brief friction it gave you.
satoru mumbles something against your lips, pulling back slightly so you could understand him better.
“do it,” he murmurs, his forehead leaning against yours while he gazes at you through white lashes. “if it feels good for you, then do it.”
your own lidded eyes blink at him for a moment, jaw going slack before you nodded your head. carefully, slowly, you rolled your hips forward, rubbing your mound against his growing erection, and almost immediately your eyes roll back into your head at the sheer relief you feel. he feels his own mouth drop open as he watches the way your face scrunches up in pleasure, steadily setting a rhythm over him with the encouragement of his hands on your waist.
“fuck, that’s it,” he groans, eyes threatening to close from the friction he’s finally getting on his cock. “make yourself feel good, that’s all i want… fuuuck—”
his words make you whine softly, your face heating up instantly. shyly, you duck your head forward, letting it land in the crook of his neck to hide your face from him. he laments not getting to see your lust-filled eyes anymore, but then his lips brush against the shell of your earlobe to whisper more obscenities in the form of praises while you rock your hips against him. you’re certain you’ve soaked all the way through your pants by now.
“shit,” you panted against his neck, moving faster, gripping his arms tightly when he started to aid your movements with his hands over your hips. “that— that feels so good.”
“yeah?” he breathes, nipping at your ear when you nod against him. his own head finally drops down into your neck and he inhales your scent, feeling himself grow impossibly harder. his hips start to buck up slightly, and the two of you moan in tandem.
he’s not sure when it got to this point anymore, the two of you rutting against each other so desperately, not even really making out anymore. you’re both hiding your faces in each others necks but there’s no hiding the sounds you’re both making, soft whines and moans now filling the humid air surrounding you.
satoru feels so hot and he’s never been so hard in his life; the way he’s straining his jeans is making him feel like he’s going to cum at any second. the pressure he feels low in his gut is steadily rising the more he feels and hears you against him, and he’s certain this is the fastest buildup to an orgasm that he’s had since he was a teenager.
and he can tell you’re getting close too, from the way your hips momentarily stutter over his.
“you gonna cum, angel?” he moans, not wanting you to slow the movement of your hips for a second. when you whine and nod hastily he briefly takes over, gripping your waist hard enough to leave bruises, helping your rock your hips faster over his own. the consistent friction from his clothed cock against your pulsing clit makes your mouth drop open in a silent gasp, your eyes crossing one final time as a particular buck of his hips finally pushes you over the edge.
a small squeak leaves your lips, followed by a sharp gasp as you come undone from the inside out. you gush inside of your pants, unintentionally moaning his name into his neck, and that alone is enough to send satoru tumbling over the edge with you. he cums hard, white briefly flashing over his eyes as he moans deeply into your neck, soiling his boxers with his own cum. he bites down onto your shoulder as you both ride through it, your bodies sweaty underneath your clothes and rubbing against each other with no rhythm whatsoever.
it takes a while before the two of you slow to a stop, panting heavily against each other’s shoulders. neither of you have bothered lifting your heads, too stuck in the post-nut haze that surrounded you both. satoru can feel your body starting to finally relax and go limp over his own, but he’s not sure his cock is softening fast enough in his pants for him to relax with you.
(that’s an issue for later, he thinks to himself.)
he swallows thickly, his throat feeling dry from all the sounds he made. “you, um— …you okay?” he mumbles, finally lifting his head from your shoulder, gently coaxing you to do the same.
you nodded against him, instead tightening your grip around his arms to stay in place. “yeah, just… just want a few more minutes, like this,” you mumbled, keeping your face hidden against his shoulder for reasons unknown to him.
he decided not to overthink it too much. his hands moved up to rub your back soothingly now, sighing softly as he leans his head against yours. he almost closes his eyes, oddly content with the way you feel against him like this, but that doesn’t make his cock soften any faster.
he may have to excuse himself to the bathroom after this, all with the intention of… taking care of his problem. he has enough material now to last him a full decade, he’s certain.
but for now, he’ll just keep holding you for a little longer, memorizing the way your heart beats against his chest. (he doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of this.)
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girlgenius1111 · 2 days
Text
all that i did to try to undo it
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engen!reader... platonic ingrid & reader + platonic mapi & reader
r lives with her sister, but their relationship is rather rocky. can they fix it before it's broken beyond repair? angst. pretty much just angst. r is not mentally well. proceed with caution.
–-----
Moving from Norway to Spain wasn’t your idea. It seemed that your parents had had quite enough of you. You knew you could have been better behaved, but you hadn’t realized they were so frustrated that they were willing to send you away. Not until it was too late. 
It was your friends, back in Norway, that were the issue. They were why you snuck out and drank and cut school and generally broke all the rules that had been set for you. And this was why, when you arrived in Spain, it all… stopped. Mostly because you barely spoke Spanish and had no friends. Also because Ingrid had adopted a rather tough love attitude with you. She was strict and cold and you knew that she wouldn’t tolerate any missteps. And honestly, you didn’t know where you’d go if Ingrid decided she didn’t want you around anymore. Not that you were sure she really did in the first place; you were pretty convinced that she was doing this as a favor to your parents. She didn’t want you here, and you weren’t going to push her to do something about that. 
Unbeknownst to you, Ingrid did want you there. It had been her idea for you to come to Spain in the first place. Your parents were at a loss with what to do with you, and Ingrid was tired of hearing how frustrated they were with you when she knew you were just trying to get their attention. She decided she could probably do a better job, simply by just paying attention. And so she did. She moved you in, she got on your ass about your responsibilities and your future, and you hadn’t yet put a toe out of line. Your sister was determined that you assimilate, thinking it would make it easier for you, so she only allowed you to speak Spanish in the home. She had Mapi read over your essays, and help with your grammar. She drove you to school everyday, and made you all eat dinner together as a family every night. It seemed to be working. You were quiet, but behaved. Ingrid was pretty convinced she’d done a good job, and solved the issue. You were a teen, and she figured you didn’t need her trying to hangout with you all the time. 
So, while Ingrid paid attention to your school, she didn’t pay much attention to you. She didn’t know you didn’t have any friends at your school, or that a lot of the kids were pretty cruel to you. She didn’t know school had turned into an entire nightmare, and that you had to push through an insane amount of anxiety just to walk through the front doors every morning. She didn’t know that you were behaving because you were scared of her kicking you out. She didn’t know you were desperately sad and homesick, not even allowed to speak your language in your own home with her. She didn’t know that all you wanted some days was for her to just pull you into a hug, and tell you she was proud of you. That she loved you. 
Why would she? Your parents clearly didn’t. Ingrid had no reason to either. 
Mapi had some reservations about the way Ingrid was with you. It was a complete 180 from the Norwegian’s normal demeanor. Ingrid was smiley and warm and silly with the younger girls on the team, and stern and harsh with you. Mapi noticed the way you watched your sister with her teammates, face full of jealousy. As time went on, though, and you didn’t cause trouble, Ingrid became more and more sure that her approach was the right one. Mapi still wasn’t as convinced. She wasn’t quite sure it was her place to say anything, though, so she kept a watchful eye on everything, and made sure to make you feel like their home was yours too.
You didn’t quite know what to make of Mapi, honestly. She was clearly infatuated with your sister. And she was always so kind to you. Mapi made you coffee every morning, made sure to buy all your favorite foods at the store, and she reminded you, repeatedly, that if you ever wanted to talk, about anything, she was around.  But Mapi was Ingrid’s. Not yours. If Ingrid was so reluctant to show you any affection, you shouldn’t seek it out from her girlfriend. 
You were quietly miserable. Ingrid thought you were okay, finally mellowing out. Mapi was caught somewhere in the middle, seeing both the side of yourself you hid from your sister, and the neutral façade you put on in front of her. 
For you, things couldn’t get much worse. Or at least, you didn’t think so. 
------
It had been a while since you’d gotten in a fight. You’d forgotten how good it felt to punch someone in the face who very much had it coming. 
It was your birthday. You would have forgotten, too, if a few of your old friends hadn’t texted you. Ingrid had forgotten. You’d woken up to her knocking on your door like she always did. She was focused on the important training session ahead, and barely spoke to you on the way to school. She’d forgotten your birthday, and you thought that it hadn’t bothered you. Until the idiotic group of boys was following you down the hallway, saying awful things. Until you’d snapped back at them in a way you never did, and until they began throwing punches. And you didn’t run. You turned and you fought and you let your anger and your hurt out for the first time in months. For the first time since you left Norway.
 There was an odd sense of calm that washed over you, waiting in the dean’s office for your sister to arrive. You couldn’t bring yourself to care, in that moment, what she would think. Your hands hurt, your face hurt, and you’d finally stood up for yourself to the awful boys that wouldn’t leave you alone. 
When Ingrid walked into the office, though, an absolutely livid expression on her face, you realized you did care. Very much. You had been waiting on the dean, and although he was a scary man, you would have rather faced him at that moment. 
“What the fuck were you thinking?” Ingrid hissed, grabbing your face in her hands and inspecting your wounds. 
“Ing,” 
“Do not. I cannot believe you. I don’t want to hear your excuses or your explanations. You are going to apologize to the dean, take your punishment, and we are going to go home. I’ll deal with you there. Understand?” 
You lowered your head, nodding. She took the seat on your other side, still visibly angry, though she softened for just a second as she looked closely at your hand. 
“Is anything broken?” She asked quietly. Your eyes flooded with tears at the question, everything inside of you screaming to lean into her arms. She was angry, you thought. She was angry, and she wouldn’t want to hug you right now. 
“I don’t think so.” You mumbled instead. 
“Good. María will patch you up when we get home.” Her tone was cold again, and you began to zone out. The dean walked in, spewing a long lecture. He didn’t tell Ingrid that you hadn’t swung first, or that the boys had been bothering you for weeks. He didn’t tell Ingrid what they called you, or that it was three 18 year old boys against an 18 year old girl. He just said that the school didn’t tolerate fighting, and that you would be suspended for a week. 
The worst part was that Ingrid didn’t even ask what happened. Not in the office, not in the car, not when you both got home. You used to get into fights all the time, back in Norway. She thought this was more of the same from you. Your sister stormed off to call your mom the minute you were in the house, leaving you standing in the entry hall in front of Mapi, eyes fixed on the ground. 
Mapi’s hand was gentle when it rested on your back, gently guiding you up the stairs and into the couple’s bathroom. She sat you on the counter like you were a little kid, and pulled out the first aid kit. Only then did you raise your head and look at her. You thought she would be mad, but she only looked concerned. 
“She hates me.” You said it before you could stop yourself, and your voice shook over every syllable. Mapi’s face melted, and she shook her head insistently, carefully wiping a tear off your face. 
“No, nena. She’s upset, but she loves you very much.” Mapi seemed convinced. She loved your sister, after all. And though you didn’t know it, Mapi had been a witness to your sister worrying over you for 2 years now. 
There was no use arguing, so you stopped talking again, and Mapi got back to cleaning your face up. She asked you a couple questions in English about things that hurt and didn’t hurt, and you responded in English. Mapi had moved on to cleaning the cuts on your knuckles when Ingrid appeared. 
“Can you bend your fingers?” Mapi asked. 
“Yeah, it’s a little sore, but I can bend them.” You replied. 
“Español.” Ingrid scolded. You nodded, correcting yourself quickly, now trying to stifle the flow of tears flowing from your eyes. 
“How are you feeling?” Ingrid asked, stepping in closer to study you closely. 
“Okay. Hurts a bit but I’m fine.” You said softly. 
“Do you promise it just hurts a bit?” Ingrid asked. 
“Yes.” It wasn’t a lie. Your body didn’t hurt that bad. You hurt though. Every inch of you ached with a deep sadness, a deep loneliness. But that wasn’t what Ingrid had asked. 
“We have a dinner tonight, a team dinner. Will you be okay here if we go?” 
A little bit of you shattered, then. Maybe you’d been hoping that Ingrid had remembered your birthday, had been planning a fun dinner or something. Clearly not. 
“Yeah. I’ll get a head start on my homework.” You managed, biting down hard on your lip to stop yourself from crying. Ingrid nodded, satisfied, but Mapi didn’t look away from you. 
“Are you sure? You look a bit upset, nena. We can stay if you need us.” 
You shook your head harshly. “No, I’m fine. Promise.” 
You were very far from fine. You needed to be alone, though, if you were going to feel every complicated emotion raging through you. 
------
“Ingrid,” Mapi said suddenly, about halfway into their drive to the restaurant. Ingrid hummed in response, looking over at her girlfriend from the passenger seat. “Your sister said something today. And it seemed like she really, really believed it. I think you need to be a little easier on her, amor. She’s just a kid.” 
“What did she say?” Ingrid wondered, head stuck on that comment. 
Mapi hesitated, well aware of how hard this might hit Ingrid. “She said you hated her. She was pretty convinced, Ingrid. How mad were you at the school?” 
Ingrid sighed roughly, running an exhausted hand over her face. “Fuck. She’s always been dramatic, I forget that she’s just… sensitive sometimes. I was pretty harsh.” She admitted. 
“Amor, I know you think this strict approach is working, but I don’t know. She seems so sad sometimes. She’s just a kid, and she’s doing her best. I think she needs you to be a bit… softer with her.” Mapi suggested, finally voicing the thoughts that had been plaguing her for weeks, if not months. 
Ingrid was quiet for a while. “Maybe. I don’t know, I thought it was working, but then today happened. I don’t know what to do.” 
“Why don’t you just… talk to her? What was the fight even about?” Mapi asked. 
Ingrid didn’t respond, her frustration with herself quickly replacing her frustration with you. 
“You didn’t ask?” Mapi sighed. 
“No, but the dean didn’t say either.” Ingrid defended halfheartedly. 
“That probably isn’t a good thing mi amor. We’ll talk to her when we get home. Figure out what’s going on.” Mapi declared. 
“We?” Ingrid asked quietly, a small smile tugging at her lips. 
“We.” Mapi affirmed, looking cautiously at her girlfriend. “Is that okay?” 
“More than okay.” Ingrid assured her. “I think she might need both of us.” 
It was clearer, now, to Ingrid. Suddenly, and very painfully. That she’d gone about this wrong. The extent of the damage that had been done was not yet to be realized, though. 
--------
The silence that echoed through the house was what got you. Today, on your 18th birthday, you sat alone at the kitchen table, tears falling freely from your eyes. They stung the cuts in on your face, but you couldn’t find it within yourself to care. It felt like wherever you went, you messed up. Wherever you went, you weren’t wanted. When you’d come to Norway, you’d had hope that maybe things would be different. Maybe Ingrid would treat you differently than your parents. She had, but you still didn’t feel loved. It felt like there was something fundamentally wrong with you that drove everyone away. You just wanted to make it better, and yet, at the same time, you felt so incredibly hopeless. Like there was nothing in the world you could do to make your family love you. You supposed it was your fault; you’d been acting out for years. Everyone was bound to get tired of you. You didn’t want to be like that, you just didn’t know what else to do. The age gap to your siblings was huge, your parents were tired of being parents, and no one had any time for you. Or the desire to make time. You’d done the only thing you could think of at the time to get their attention, and it had only made things worse. You had only made things worse. 
And still, a part of you was angry. Furious. Did you have to be perfect? Did you have to make no mistakes? Shouldn’t they love you regardless of all that? There was no consistency in your brain; sometimes it all felt like your fault, and other times it felt like there wasn’t anything you could do right. 
You felt the inexplicable urge to apologize. Really apologize, really explain.  Maybe they could forgive you. Maybe Ingrid could forgive you, maybe you could get her to understand. You didn’t think you could make it through an entire apology, though, not verbally, not face to face with your intense sister. So you got out a piece of paper, and began writing. 
Ingrid,
I’m sorry. I’m sorry you got stuck with me, and I’m sorry I haven’t been good enough. I’ve tried, I promise I have. Sometimes I feel like it isn’t possible for me to meet your standards, but I still try. 
I’m sorry about the fight today. They came at me, I swear. These three boys have been bothering me since I've arrived, and they say horrible things to me, and I just snapped. I should have just kept quiet, and they never would have started the fight, and I’m sorry I didn’t do that. 
I’m sorry I’m always home and bothering you and Mapi. I’m sorry I haven’t made any friends here, and I’m sorry my spanish isn’t perfect. I’m sorry I'm so miserable. I don’t know why I can’t just be happy, but I can’t. I want to be. I really do. It just feels like you’re always mad at me. I feel like such an awful person no matter what I do. Mom and Dad didn’t want me. And I don’t think you want me. I don’t think I want me either, sometimes. 
I’m trying to like it here, but it’s so different. I miss Mom and Dad, even though I know they don’t miss me. I miss my home and I miss Norway. I miss my friends. I didn’t really feel like I belonged there, but at least it was familiar. 
I think I’m mad at you, too. You’re my sister, Ingrid. Do you always have to be so harsh with me? I think I’d be happier, if you seemed happier that I was here. 
You forgot my birthday. Mom and Dad didn’t remember either.  I turned 18 today. I turned 18 today, and you and Mapi went to dinner without me. I made a sandwich and ate it by myself in the kitchen. I’ve never felt so worthless. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to fix this. I just want you all to love me again. I want to love myself again. I think I’d do anything, to feel like I have a family again. 
I’m so desperate I’m writing you this absurd letter that I’ll probably never give you. I don’t know if I can give it to you. I’m scared to give it to you, and I’m scared not to. 
I’m scared because sometimes I think everyone would be better off without me. I’m scared because it feels like no one would even notice if I was gone. It feels so easy. Everyday it feels like it would be easier. 
I guess I’m asking for help, Ingrid. I don’t want to ask you to fix this for me, but I don’t think I can do it myself.  I want to be better, I want to
Your writing cut off abruptly, as the front door opened. All you felt was panic. You were a mess, sobbing uncontrollably on the couch with the letter almost completed in front of you. They weren’t supposed to be home yet. The event was supposed to be a long one, and you’d planned on leaving the letter, if you were brave enough, on the kitchen table, and going to bed. Handing it to your sister face to face had never been the plan. You weren’t even sure it made any sense, and you weren’t sure you wanted to give it to her. 
The front door swung open anyway, and Mapi walked into the house. You remembered, then, that she was always coming home early. She had a follow up appointment for her knee the following morning, and she hadn’t wanted to be out late. Alexia had driven her home early, not wanting a late night herself. Ingrid was still at the dinner, but Mapi was here. Standing frozen in the entryway, with a perfect view of the disaster you were on the couch. You were frozen, and she was frozen, but then she was moving, moving closer to you, and you couldn’t you couldn’t you couldn’t. 
“Pequeña, what is it? What hurts?” Mapi asked urgently, moving to sit next to you on the couch. She thought you must be hurt, physically. The thought that the agony on your face could be from anything else didn't even enter her brain. 
She sat next to you, and you were still frozen, not even able to move the piece of paper out of sight. 
Mapi saw it. You were using one of your textbooks as a surface, not unlike how you did your homework. Your favorite pen was in your hand. And resting in your lap, on the textbook, was a piece of paper that somehow radiated pain. Mapi was reaching for it before she even knew what she was doing, and you were still frozen. Frozen, staring at Mapi like you were afraid of her. Very suddenly, Mapi was terrified. 
“Nena, what is this?” She asked softly. It was to Ingrid. Written in Spanish. Mapi saw her name in it a few places as she scanned it over, before she looked back up at you. “Nena?” she prompted again. 
This time, you did move. You jolted forward, reaching for the letter, a deep gasping breath escaping your mouth. Mapi held it out of your grasp, her eyes stuck on one sentence, the only sentence that she’d read so far. It had jumped out at her. 
“I’m scared because sometimes I think everyone would be better off without me.” 
An instantly, Mapi knew she couldn’t let you take the piece of paper back. She knew she needed to call Ingrid and tell her to come home. She knew she couldn’t let you out of her sight. You were so fragile, though, sitting in front of her like you were second away from shattering into a million pieces. Too many pieces for anyone to ever be able to fix. 
“Nena, I think I need to read this.” She whispered, watching carefully as you pulled your hand back towards your body, as you curled in on yourself, and began to shake with silent sobs. 
And then Mapi read the letter. With one hand on your back, and one hand tightly clutching the paper, she read the most painful thing she’d ever laid her eyes on. It tore her apart, reading how you felt. 
And it wasn’t meant for her. It was meant for Ingrid. And, ridiculously, Mapi wished she could fix it before Ingrid ever read what you’d written. Mapi would have done anything in that moment, to make things right with you, and to make sure Ingrid never had to know how badly she had hurt you. Because realizing it would hurt the Norwegian just as much. 
Mapi ached to tell you so many things. That Ingrid loved you so much, she just wasn’t sure how to help you. That she thought what she was doing was working, helping. That she was sure Ingrid didn’t know the date, or she’d have never forgotten your birthday. That she knew Ingrid would do anything, anything in the world, to fix this. That Mapi was sure both she and Ingrid would go back in time if they could, and fix everything that had gone wrong. 
She couldn’t force that all on you now. She couldn’t defend Ingrid, or herself. 
Instead, she placed the letter carefully on the table, and sent Ingrid a very brief text. 
“You need to come home now. Everything is fine, everyone is safe, but you need to come home.”
Instead, Mapi pulled you into her lap, and held you so tight it almost hurt. 
Instead, your sister’s girlfriend, who owed you absolutely nothing, told you, over and over, how very loved you were. How proud she was of you. How her and Ingrid were going to fix everything if it killed them. 
They’d fix everything before it killed you. 
------
🙂
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helen-with-an-a · 2 days
Text
You always have an excuse
Hi. So this is a request and I really liked the idea. Hopefully, I did it justice. I hope you enjoy
Barca Femeni x reader
Description: R always has excuses but eventually slips up.
Word Count: 3.8k
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Shit. Shit. Shit. You were late. You were so late. But it wasn’t your fault; indeed, honestly, it wasn’t your fault. Your parents were not the greatest at being parents. They had you when they were just 16 and far too young to be having children. Sure, they paid for your football stuff and gave you a lot of what you asked for, but it was to keep you quiet and out of the house. You didn’t mind too much. It was easier when you only had to look out for yourself, never telling your parents where or who you were with. You always had a range of excuses ready for anyone who asked – lying and telling your friend’s parents that someone else would be taking you home, saying your mum was just around the corner, she had work so couldn’t come to your matches. It was fine. You knew nothing different.
You signed for La Masia when you were 10. The training was intense, but you loved it. You thrived under the pressure, quickly working your way up the ranks. Your debut for the first team happened shortly before your 16th birthday. You had never felt prouder of yourself.
“And here we have it. At just 15 years old, Y/F/N Y/S/N, making her debut for FC Barcelona Femeni. She’s homegrown, working her way up La Masia ranks. She is definitely a future star.” The commentator said as you made your way onto the pitch. This is what you have been dreaming of since you discovered football. This was the dream that only some people achieved. And you were one of them. A professional footballer. Your life’s goal was achieved.
The game was an easy win. The other team was fighting a relegation battle, as Barca slipped 10 goals past their keeper.
“Vamos,” Patri shouted as she shook you by the shoulders. “A debut and a brace. Is that a Ballon d’Or I see in your future?” You laughed as she wrapped you in a fierce hug.
“Neña, what a performance, hey?” Mapi called as Alexia affectionately hit the back of your head.
“Where’s your Mamí? I’m sure she wants to see you after that performance.” You didn’t even bat an eyelid as you smiled sweetly at Marta
“Oh, she said we’d meet outside by the main gates – saves us from trying to find each other on the pitch and in the crowd.” You waved at the chaos surrounding you. You knew your mother was nowhere near the football stadium – you doubted she even knew you had a football match, let alone your senior debut. It was easy to slip away from the changing rooms; you had significant practice doing it most of your life.
And now you were running so, so late. You had woken up on time, but the food in the house looked a little off, so you rushed to get something from the bakery on your way to the bus stop. But the line was bigger than anticipated, so you were rushing to catch the bus. A man walking in the other direction wasn’t paying attention and crashed into you, causing you to drop your stuff and spill hot coffee all over yourself. That had disrupted your flow, and you missed the bus, having to wait 5 minutes for the next one, which wasn’t a big deal. However, the metro system was delayed. And now you were 10 minutes behind, and then the bus you were supposed to catch from the metro station to the training centre never showed up, so you had to catch an alternative one, making you 30 minutes late. You had texted Jona to tell you you were running late but you knew you had laps waiting for you when you actually got there. You arrived at the pitch hot, sweaty, and tired. This was not an ideal start to the morning.
It was a known ‘Alexia Rule’ that every minute late to practice without a reasonable excuse was a lap. As you arrived at the huddle, one boot on, one still in your hand and your shirt stained with coffee, you could tell she was unimpressed. With all your rushing, you had forgotten to think of an excuse. You didn’t want to tell her the real reason; you had a feeling ‘Oh, sorry Alexia, I’m late because my parents are really shitty, forget they have a kid sometimes, and they haven’t been home in over a week, and the food in the fridge looked a little funky’ would not go down too well. She arched an eyebrow at you.
“Um …” You floundered, thinking about what to say. You could tell her the semi-truth that the metro was delayed and you had missed the buses, but they thought you got dropped off at the top of the road by your dad on the way to work. You could tell them there was traffic, but they all drove, so they knew you were lying.
“You have 30 laps to run at the end of training,” Alexia had a stern voice that you knew meant she was serious. 30 laps? That was basically 10k. Your eyes widened to comically sized proportions. 45 minutes of running around in a circle … after training? She was trying to kill you; you were convinced of it.
“You can’t be serious?” You gawked at her. Her other eyebrow rose to join the other one.
“Deadly.” She said icily and walked away.
Holy fuck. You were really, royally fucked this time. You were so dead. You had to miss training. But again, it hadn’t been your fault. The boiler had broken in your house, which wasn’t a big deal – it was late spring in Barcelona, and you didn’t need heating. But you did need the hot water. You had tried to ask your parents to stay home whilst someone fixed it, knowing that you had training and they could definitely work from home for a day. They had dismissed you with a flippant wave of their hands and continued what they were doing. You phoned the company, asking them to come and fix it as soon as possible. But, as expected, they told you they would be there before lunch, which was the best they could offer. It was now 2.30pm, and there was no sign of them. You had texted Jona this morning, offering a weak excuse of feeling a little rough. You hadn’t expected him to tell Alexia that you were feeling bad, and it sounded like you were home alone.
The knock on the door had you running towards it – thinking it was the person coming to fix the boiler. “Gracias, Gracias. Es el …” You rushed the explanation, not realising that it was not a plumber but rather your irate captain. You froze as you looked up. Shit.
“You look fine, neña. You don’t look like you’ve … what was it? Ah, yes, ‘picked up a little something’.” She was far too calm. You could see her anger bubbling under the surface, though.
“Ale, I-” you tried to explain.
“No, no quiero escucharlo,” she cut you off, a hand raising to stop you. “You lied. You skipped training. Was it worth it? Was it so much more important than training?” She hadn’t bothered to come into the house, standing at your front door, a bag of things meant to help you feel better in her hand. “Here,” she shoved it at you. “You’re on the bench until you can prove that you want to be a part of Barcelona Femeni.” And with that, she stormed off.
Tears welled in your eyes. She hadn’t let you explain … but what could you say? ‘Sorry, Ale, my parents are arseholes and don’t realise that I have a life and a job as well’? ‘Sorry, Ale, I had to wait for the plumber to come and fix our heating and hot water, and no, my parents – the adults in the house – couldn’t do it because they think their time is so much more important than mine’? ‘Sorry, Ale, I’m currently trying to raise myself, and whilst I’m usually ok at it, sometimes I fuck up’? You couldn’t say those things to her. You couldn’t tell her how tough your life could be sometimes … most of the time. You couldn’t tell her that your parents don’t even know you have a game, let alone watch it or attend it. You couldn’t tell her you often wake up in an empty house for weeks because your parents jetted off somewhere again. You couldn’t tell her that you doubt your parents could even tell you your full name and birthday.
She thought you didn’t want to be a part of Barca. Barca was your saving grace. Barca was the only thing that got you out of bed. The friendships you made were the closest thing to a normal family you had. Jana, Vicky, Martina, Patri, Claudia, Bruna, Esmee, Salma … they were your crazy cousins, always making you laugh and willing to go along with your mad ideas. Ona, Aitana, Lucy, Cata, Mapi … they were your big sisters, always protecting you on and off the pitch and lightly teasing you. Ingrid, Caro, Keira, Mariona, Frido … they were the calming aunts that helped you through any predicament. Marta, Paños, Irene … Alexia … they were your motherly figures, the people you could always rely on to love you regardless of what else was happening in your life. Did they think you didn’t want to be there? Barcelona was the single most greatest thing that had ever happened to you.
You looked at the bag Alexia had shoved at you. It was full of healthy smoothies, nutritious snacks, and your favourite chocolates. You could even see a soft teddy instructing you to ‘Get Well Soon’. It made you sob even harder. Eventually, you moved to the sofa. Once you started crying, you couldn’t stop. You cried over everything – disappointing Alexia, having no hot water, being benched, your parents' dislike of you, your seeming lack of support system, how you appeared to fuck up the one good thing in your life. You cried yourself to sleep on the sofa, clutching the bag to your chest and feeling so incredibly sorry for both you and the girls you had failed.
The next morning, you looked horrific – puffy, red eyes, dishevelled hair, blotchy skin. You didn’t even try to hide it as you made your way to the bus stop, ignoring the weird looks thrown your way. You were in a daze as you walked through the metro system and onto the second bus, forgetting to hurry down the side alleys instead of the main road. You didn’t see Ingrid’s car as it drove past you, a concerned Mapi, Ingrid, Ona, and Lucy in it.
“Era que?” Mapi asked, pointing over her shoulder.
“Y/N? Sí, fue” Ona nodded.
“Why, though? She said she gets dropped off by her dad on his way to work.” Ingrid was just as perplexed. You seemed to know exactly where you were going and had stepped off the bus with an ease only known to someone who took the same route every day.
“Maybe it was a one-off? He couldn’t take her today, so she had to get the bus? Although I don’t know why she wouldn’t just ask one of us – she lives on most of our routes to work.” Lucy pondered, all of them confused over you.
“Hey,” Ingrid said as you walked into the changing rooms. You didn’t even smile at her, just nodding and moving to your cubby. “Um … so, how come you were on the bus?” You froze. How did she know you got the bus?
“It’s just that we saw you as we were driving in. If you needed a lift, you could’ve just asked; you know we’d all be more than happy to —” Ona explained.
“Yeh, my d-dad only told me this morning that he couldn’t take me the whole way, so … he dropped me off near the metro, and I just got the bus from there,” you lied, rushing to gather your boots and head to the pitch. It was a blatant lie. Your voice was too high, and your hands shook slightly as you tried to devise a realistic excuse.
“Todas sabemos que era una mentira, verdad?” Mapi looked around as the door swung shut.
The following month in training was awkward, to say the least. After your slip-up with the bus, you made sure to take the earlier trains, getting to training before most people had even left their beds. You figured you’d use the time to prove to Alexia and the others that you wanted to be there. You were still benched, but your name was still on the game day sheet, so you liked to believe they weren’t thinking of selling you or cancelling your contract after the season ended. The issue was getting home. If you stayed late, you were often questioned, but if you were seen walking out of the car park, you were also questioned. You really needed to learn how to drive ... quickly.
Eventually, Jona could no longer justify you sitting on the bench. Barca had the Champions League semi-finals coming up, and everyone noted your absence on the pitch.
“Y/N, you will be playing the next match. You’re going to be a sub around 60 or 70 minutes.” It was a short announcement, but you couldn’t help your heart soar. Did this mean they finally believed you when you said that Barca was the best thing that happened to you? Alexia still hadn’t looked at you since That Day, but she was no longer actively seething, which you took as a win. But now you would be playing in the home leg of the Champions League semi-finals. You were nervous, but not because of the match; you were on a 0 – 3 aggregate, and you were going to be playing at Camp Nou – it was an almost guaranteed win –but because you knew the team would be more suspicious of your lack of parents.
You decided to do what you always did – never look to the crowd, do a lap of the stadium for the fans, hurry back into the changing rooms, and slip away. Simple. Easy. You had been doing it all your life. But you hadn’t accounted for how attentive the team would be. They watched you wearily from a distance, concerned when you made no effort to look to the friends and family section during warm-ups or after the match when everyone usually went to see their loved ones. You stayed back, signing more things for fans, and then headed straight to the tunnel. After the celebration in the changing rooms, you gathered your things and disappeared before anyone could bring them up. You had mastered the art of vanishing like a ghost after matches.
But now it was the final. It was obviously an away game, but everyone’s family came. Even the coaching staff brought their loved ones. Not you, though. Your parents hadn’t known you’d left the country, let alone understood that you were playing in the most prestigious match in Europe for clubs. You were in the Starting XI, but you weren’t nervous. You knew you could win this match; this Champions title was yours for the taking. You didn’t realise that the fact that you had no family would be exposed the minute the final whistle went.
You played the full 90 minutes and an extra 5 for injury time. You were exhausted, but that didn’t matter as soon as the clock ran out. You had done it. Champions of Europe. The screams and shouts were so loud it hurt your ears, but you didn’t care. You felt unstoppable.
“Vamos, pequeña. Donde esta tu mamí? Quiero finalmente conocer a la mujer a la que debemos agradecer por regalarle al mundo contigo.” Mapi said as you sat on the grass, your medal around your neck.
“Más tarde. I just want to sit here and soak this all in.” You waved her away. She took you at your word but made meaningful eyes at Alexia, having an unspoken conversation as you moved away. Alexia watched as you leaned back, resting on your arms, legs outstretched, and eyes shut – head tilted to feel the sun on your skin. She waited for 10 minutes, watching you make no effort to see your family. It was the first thing she had done after the trophy celebration. She had run straight to her mother and sister, thanking them profusely for all their sacrifices and expressing so much gratitude towards them – throwing her sweaty body at them and tackling them into long, tight hugs.
“Do you want to see your family now?” It was the first non-football-related words she’d said to you in well over a month.
“No, I’m ok. I’ll see them later,” you dismissed her quickly.
“Do you know where they are? We could bring them down onto the pitch if you don’t want to stand up.” She wasn’t letting this go. She had an inkling that she hoped was wrong.
“It’s alright, Ale. Honestly. I’m fine sitting here, soaking this all up by myself.” You hadn’t opened your eyes, so you had assumed from the quietness she had moved away. “It’s not like you’d find them anyway,” you whispered as an unwanted tear escaped you.
“Qué quieres decir, cariño?” Your eyes snapped open, coming face to face with Alexia, Ona and Keira. You sat up, trying to hide your face.
“Oh, noth-”
“No me mientas. Dónde están tu mamí y papí?” Alexia asked sternly. You misunderstood her, thinking she was angry at you. You shook your head, refusing to answer.
“Neña, are your parents here?” Ona asked quietly, coming to sit next to you. You took a deep breath.
“No. They aren’t.”
“Do you want to phone them?” Keira suggested, hoping that it was just because they couldn’t take time away from work to attend in person. She also sat down, gesturing her phone to you as an invitation to use it. You took another deep breath.
“I don’t think they even know I had a football match, let alone a Champions League final.” Another tear slipped down your cheek. Alexia sat in front of you, reaching for your hands.
“Qué quieres decir?” She asked again, thumbs rubbing gently over the backs of your hands.
“My parents … I don’t really know how to say it,” you paused, Ona gently rubbing your back comfortingly. “My parents don’t really … parent?” You chuckled lightly.
“They don’t support you?” Keira asked, her hand resting on your knee.
“They don’t care enough. They leave for weeks on end without telling me. I get food and stuff like that on my own. I’m basically raising myself at this point. I don’t think they know I have a contract with Barca. I doubt they even know I play football. They just let me do whatever I wanted as long as I was out of the house, not causing trouble and quiet; they didn’t care. They’re lucky I haven’t turned into a criminal or something.” You tried to add a joke to lighten the mood.
“But you said you meet up with your parents after home matches,” Ona couldn’t imagine achieving half the things she did without her family supporting her from the sidelines.
“And you told us your dad drops you off every morning on the way to work,” Keira added, equally disbelieving – her parents were her biggest fans.
“Yeh, I lied. I just go home after matches. And I get the metro to training.”
“But training is nowhere near the metro, and you don’t live near a metro station either.” She still didn’t want to consider what you were saying to be true.
You explained, “I get a bus from mine to the metro and then a bus from the metro to training.”
“That’s why you were getting off the bus that day when we saw you,” Ona realised. She hadn’t trusted your story but had considered no other possibilities.
“That’s why you're late to training sometimes? Because of the buses and trains?” Alexia asked, her hands never leaving yours.
“Yeh.” You looked down, ashamed of your situation and lying to them.
“And that day when you missed training. You weren’t sick. What happened?”
“I … um … the boiler broke, so I had to wait for someone to come fix it. Which they never did, by the way. I had to phone some random company that massively overcharged me, and the water definitely doesn’t get as hot as it used to.” You babbled nervously. “It wasn’t because I don’t want to be at Barca. It’s the only thing that keeps me going, knowing that I have you guys looking out for me. It makes everything else seem not as bad,” you whispered, needing them to know just how important Barca was to you. You looked around. Patri and Pina tried to do the perfect chest bump as Jana and Bruna filmed. Lucy was chasing her niece and nephew. Ingrid and Mapi were with Ingrid’s parents, smiling widely as they talked. Marta and Caro were sat off to one side, talking quietly. You could see the others dotted around the stadium, talking to fans, speaking to parents, and enjoying the support.
“Cariño, I am so sorry,” Alexia implored. I shouted at you and benched you. I’m sorry I made you think I didn’t believe you took Barca seriously.”
“Why didn’t you tell us, neña?” Ona asked.
“We only want what’s best for you, kid,” Keira added.
“Um … I don’t really know. It doesn’t really matter. It’s been like this my whole life, so…”
“Cariño. It does matter. But we know now, and that’s all that matters, sí?” Alexia stood up, dragging you with her. “Let’s go see my family. Mi Mamí has been asking to meet you for ages. And before you say no, she already has plans for you to come round for dinner one night. Y en secreto, ella siempre quiso una tercera hija.” She said, wrapping an arm around your shoulder as Ona took your hand.
“Oh, Eli will have to fight my Mama on that one, Ale. She always wanted a goal-scoring daughter.”
“Well, my mum says you are more than welcome to stay at her house if you ever visit the UK as long as you cook her paella.” Keira smiled.
Maybe your biological family was shite, but your found one certainly wasn't.
I hope you liked it <3
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aethelwyneleigh27 · 2 days
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"your girl?" "My girl.."
Simon "Ghost" Riley x FEM!AFAB!Reader
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Synopsis: Your ex finds himself at your doorstep ready to beg you to take him back after he cheated on you, unfortunate for him, your "best friend" Simon was there on the look out for you..
Reader's body type was described as somewhat plump so yeah she's on the plus size/chubbier side but not specific, don't like that body type? Tf are you doing on my page then? This page is safe space for all body types (everyone for that matter) and I won't take discrimination against me or anyone else.
Hi lovelies! Lia here, is it just me or do drabbles do better than actual full length fics? I still cannot get over my last scenarios post not being recognized because it's been published but on private for more than three weeks, @connorsui lovie, I know you're there. I have both food for you here and on this post. Did I speed run this is 5 hours? Yes. This is coming out before the next scenarios fic 😭
If I told you guys this was inspired by a milkman bot session I had on c.ai, would you believe me? And yes it's the milkman, Francis from the game "that's not my neighbor", HE LOOKS TOO GOOD LIKE ARE YOU KIDDING??
My CoD Masterlist
Taglist: @wishesforyou @puff0o0 @simping4konig @simp4konig @blingblong55 @azereus @rustic-guitar-notes @shadofireshinobi @thelightdjinnofpalestine @09maruchan @anonymuslydumb @skeletalgoats @icarustypicalfall @ghosts-cyphera @fawnchives @connorsui @capuccino192 @miss-gms-and-the-rotten-womb @celestialhole @the-second-sage @starryylies @everlastingmoonlightsworld @keiva1000 @iexiam
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Is it any different to have a label? You always thought of that question, with your ex and now with Simon. Sure there was a label but he never made you feel as if you are who he calls you but with Simon it's different, it felt more than what you both labeled yourselves to each other.
Yet you've felt everything from guilt to grieve, having doubts wasn't uncommon for such a high risk exchange. Risking your friendship for something more like the eliminated boundaries set for people who are just friends are now set to the standards of those of a couple.
"Friends with benefits" is what it's called, not exactly the kind of commitment you dreamed of but it was mutually beneficial. You agreed not to catch feelings, well.. you were fucked to begin with, why would you agree to have no romantic connection to someone you already had feelings for?
What happens, happens I guess. You don't feel low after a high like you always did, Simon next to you, in your bed, your sheets and just surrounded by all the items that were both of his possession and yours. Too domestic for it's own good, for yourself.
Getting up felt like a crime, you shouldn't have to pull away from the warmth and comfort of his arms right? As much as you wanted to stay, you have to make breakfast, you promised him the night before.
You hauled yourself out of bed and to the kitchen, after picking up his and your clothes from the night before and into the wash cycle anyway. Making yourself your favorite morning drink before getting started on Simon's request.
Little did you know that Simon just woke up, panicking a little when he first gained his consciousness when he saw that you weren't around. His rationality set it, feeling stupid, pathetic and like a lost child for how he overreacted.
Walls were thin, muffled shouting and rapid knocking from outside your door alarmed him. The clicks of the locks as he walked out your room, he found you talking to the bastard who made you cry in the lieutenant's arms more times than he can count on both hands.
Simon couldn't help himself, his blood running cold as he saw where the bastard's eyes were.. that son of a bitch was staring at your chest that was peeking from your silk nightdress while you were berating him for even showing his face to your apartment in the first place.
Your Simon could only do what he's wanted to do for a long time now..
You felt stiff and ridgid arms wrap around your plump waist and hips from behind, you know that musky cologne anywhere. Simon moved the strap of your silk nightdress just a bit off your shoulder to kiss the center, you felt his kisses slowly making it's way to your neck.
Your face felt the hottest it's ever been, it took everything in your body to not shudder or close your eyes at his touch. You let out the softest sigh but your bliss was interrupted by your ex who was currently failing to find the right words.
Simon stops his kisses but keeps his lips right on that spot just at the gap between your neck and shoulder, he stares up to the man he called bastard, prick, twat, fucker and all kinds of other things, gave him a look that may as well tell him that Simon was about to commit murder.
"You..!" The "mangled looking mutt" (Simon's previous description of your ex) said that almost in a threatening tone however he bites his tongue as soon as Simon raises a brow, daring him to continue. Your ex tried to step forward into your apartment but Simon beat him to it, quickly slamming the door to his face.
You bite your urge to laugh as you heard your ex's face actually hit the door with a thud and crack as it was closed on him accompanied by a loud curse, with his angry stomps fading you felt a sense of relief.
That was short lived when those same two arms that kept you warm and grounded spun you around, you stopped yourself from whining because of the sudden distance of your back on his warm bare chest to now facing him. He didn't pull you closer but your eyes begged him to.
"I didn't know we were broadcasting it now, thought you said we looked like friends in the eyes of the world?" You managed to say so boldly despite how much effect his touch has on you.
"M'sorry love, I couldn't help it.. he was— I can't let him continue to upset and borderline harrass my girl then continue to look at you as if you're.."
Everything started to be muffled.. did he just say what you think he said...? Brush it off, just brush it off, it's probably just a mistake or a caught in the moment thing right?
"Your girl?" You said almost in a whisper to test the waters, seeing as he had no problem putting your ex in his place and claiming you.
Simon's eyes widened.
Oh.
Oh..
It dawned on him how much it meant that he actually said those two words, those same two words he's been avoiding like the plague. The same two words that would make him lose all his sense of control and mindfulness of the agreement you two made together.
Your breath hitched, shit what if he says it was a mistake? Would that hurt you? Simon knew it wasn't something unintentional. Going back, he had held it back for so long, in his head you were his and he was yours to do what you pleased with.
Simon did the only thing he could think of.
"My girl" he pulls you in, closer than he has ever had, holding you like today was the last day you two would ever be together. He's wanted to hold you like that forever, he will.
You cupped his face, looking him in the eyes with that look, he knew that look of doubt, essentially asking him if he meant it. It hurt but he knew that it wasn't your intention to and you needed to know if he was serious.
He managed to calm your nerves and give you reassurance with just the way he nods with his warm lips finding your neck again. You felt enough adrenaline to kiss him, like actually kiss him on his lips.
Romantic, soft and sweet yet passionate, Simon couldn't help himself, guiding and backing you up on the kitchen countertop. He took it as an opportunity to hoist you up on it by your waist, squirming a bit as the marble was like ice underneath your thighs, your legs propped open with him comfortably in between.
Of all the things, the grey sweatpants and refusal to even come close to wearing a shirt, it surely didn't help to calm where your mind is running.
He pressed his forehead on yours, closing his eyes and basking in the feeling of this with you, his breath on your skin felt different now...
Part Two: "your girl?" "My girl" (NSFW)
Part two is in @blingblong55's hands now because this is a collab and yes it's nsfw, I'll place the link here at the top when she graces us with her work and presence.
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celestie0 · 2 days
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what is the flow rate of gojo’s sperm? 🤔
😈 😈 😈 ALRIGHT LET’S FIND OUT
shoutout to m00tie @quinnyundertow since u said there's nothing that turns you on more than hearing how mobile a man's flagella are. this one's for you bb.
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alright, first off, because his cum is confirmed to be both incompressible fluid as well as move with laminar flow, these attributes satisfy the conditions of pouiseulle’s law:
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i had to do a little bit of research to determine if it was laminar or turbulent flow, and apparently sperm travels with both stokes & laminar flow, which is pretty interesting, and also moves in a sinusoidal propagating wave, likely due to the movements/shape of the flagella
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note: microscopic sperm travel & ejaculate fluid travel are two very different things, but i can’t solve for anything microscopic here so we’re just gonna go for the ejaculate fluid only
anyways, to use pouiseulle’s law, let’s first determine our variables, and make sure we get the units right as well! always draw a diagram w all the variables:
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now, let’s identify the variables:
1. radius (r) of tube -> this refers to the pipe/tube, therefore in this case, the vaginal canal. now since gojo has decided to creampie, we can assume that the radius of the vaginal canal will be equivalent to the radius of his girth as he is stretching you out. gege told me the diameter of his big fat schlong is approximately 3 inch girth, therefore the radius = 3/2 = 1.5 inches
2. ΔP refers to change in pressure gradient, in this case i’ve decided to have P1 as pressure at vaginal canal opening, and P2 as pressure at the end where the cervix is. therefore, ΔP = (P1 - P2) for the equation. i know you’ve got that gorilla grip coochie, esp when the world’s strongest sorcerer is fuckin you SENSELESS, but all things considered this is a very difficult parameter to measure, therefore i found this article to help out with this:
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we’re going to assume “contraction pressure” (at the vaginal canal opening) is P1, due to gojo’s intrusion. and we’re going to assume “pressure at rest” is P2 at the end near the cervix (he’s pulled out a lil bit ok this makes things easier for me)
kPa are the units that we want for ΔP in this case, therefore it’s a simple calculation:
ΔP = P1 - P2 = 41.8 kPa - 26.8 kPa = 15 kPa
3. the last variable we need to account for here is L, which is the length of the PIPE HE’S LAYIN INSIDE OF YOU (jk it’s just length of ur coochie). now, i imagine this man is a generous lover, and he’s alr made you cum a few before he stuck it inside, so with arousal, the vaginal canal length has likely increased to about 5 inches (moreso 4.75in based on avg values in research but he stretched you in even more during the sexing!!) therefore L = 5 in
4. the other two values are just constants:
π = pi 3.1415 (imma just use pi function in calc)
η = this is viscosity of a fluid. based on this research article, the viscosity of human semen is approximately 9.35 cps. we want these units in kPa•s (remember that your units need to match the units of the other variables), so we need to use density of sperm (1.043 g/ml) to convert the factor (i just used chatgpt lol) but the conversion factor is pretty similar therefore we will just plug in something close to 9.35 kPa•s (true value is a little smaller)
ALRIGHT WONDERFUL! WE HAVE DETERMINED ALL OF OUR VARIABLES :) NOW WE JUST NEED TO PLUG IT INTO OUR EQUATION/DIAGRAM:
*note: mind the units! (shown in blue) there are lots of variations on how flow rate can be shown w the units, so u wanna be careful that they match
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YAAAAY!! so the flow rate (Q) of gojo’s cum is approximately 0.63787 in^3/sec ☺️💕
use a quick converter online, and we can make it into liters per minute -> 0.02214 l/min. convert this to milliliters -> 22.14 mls
which means that, in one of gojo’s average cumshots, he cums 22.14 mls of ejaculate !!! :0 sheesh that’s a lot!!
but how does this value compare to other men? research varies, but on average, men ejaculate between 1-10mls per orgasm, therefore the world’s strongest sorcerer cums more than TWICE the worldwide average!!
and one final calculation shows us that when he finishes, it’s at about 0.369 mls per second :) that's fuckin fast!!!
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thank you for cumming to my ted talk!! byee
alr ellie out ✌🏼😖 (i have sm brainrot)
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patscorner · 3 days
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FAMILY DINNER
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Summary: Chris joins your family for dinner for the first time and it does not go as planned
Tw: Swearing, narcissistic dad, verbal arguing, panic attack mentions of alcohol use, mentions of ed(NO DETAIL), lmk if I missed something
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"Baby, it'll be fine. I'm sure they're not so bad." Chris spoke. It was 6:45, and you and Chris were heading to a family dinner. After you and him had started dating, him, his brothers, and your family have been begging to meet one another.
But you knew better. You knew your dad couldn't hold his tongue, and you knew your mom couldn't hold back her comments about how you sat, how you spoke, how you looked. You knew your brothers and your sisters knew how to mess with you, not enough to make you cry, but just enough to piss you off.
"Chris, you have no idea." You say, leg bouncing nervously as you both sat in the back seat of the van. You only agreed to go if Matt and Nick came with, knowing that Chris wasn't going to be able to keep his temper in check.
"Don't worry, y/n, it'll be okay. It's not like any of us are gonna provoke them. They don't have any reason to hate us." Matt chimed in from the drivers seat. Chris squeezed your thigh reassuringly.
"It's not you guys that I'm worried about." You muttered, biting your nails. You just hoped your dad didn't have much to drink tonight.
"Plus, we're youtubers, a little back handed comment isn't gonna affect us." Nick smiled triumphantly.
Boy, were they in for a treat.
____
After what felt like 2 minutes, Matt parked the car in front of your childhood home. You've dreaded this moment ever since you and Chris started dating. You knew the time would come, but you just ignored it and pushed it back as far as you could. But eventually, everyone became impatient, and you were pushed out of your comfort zone.
Chris wasn't prepared. None of them were because nothing could prepare them for what they were getting into. Growing up with 2 older brothers, a younger brother, and 2 younger sisters, you knew just how quick it could turn hostile. You knew how it could be peaceful one moment, and the next, 2 people are driving off, 3 are crying, and one is smashing plates.
It could get ugly quick. Mostly, you were able to hide most of your family troubles from Chris, only occasionally giving him bits and pieces. This was completely different. This was a full view of what and where you grew up, and if anything was off or revealed, Chris would be there to see. That scared the shit out of you.
And Chris knew that, so he didn't push, no matter how eager he was. He never pushed you to do anything that made you uncomfortable. This, though, meant a lot to him, so he did voice his opinion.
So here you were, standing outside of the home you grew up in, with your boyfriend and his triplet brothers. You take a deep breath before knocking.
Here we go.
You lean back into Chris, who's hand found home around your waist, squeezing gently. He kissed the crown of your head, whispering, "Relax, baby, we got this."
You nod as you hear the lock turn and the door open. Your oldest brother, Peter, who was 26, stood in front of you. He looked much different from the last time you'd seen him, which was like 2 years ago.
Last time you two were together was at Christmas when your dad decided to get plastered the morning of Christmas and destroyed everyone's presents. Thousands of dollars down the drain. You swallowed at the memory.
"C'mere kid." Was all Peter said before engulfing you into a long needed hug.
You melted into your brothers touch. "It's been too long. Way too long." You mumble against his chest.
When you pull away, you see tears in Peter's eyes. You slap his chest playfully, "Oh, you big baby, don't cry."
He laughs, shaking his head and rubbing his eyes. You laugh and hold his hand.
Nick clears his throat, bringing your and Peter's attention to the three same face boys.
"Oh! Yeah, Peter, meet my boyfriend, Chris, and his older brothers, Matt and Nick." You say, moving out of the way for the men to exchange greetings and hand shakes.
"I'd like to apologize in advance, I'm definitely gonna have trouble telling you guys apart." Peter laughs.
"Oh, don't worry about it. It happens all the time." Matt reassures. Nick and Chris nod in agreement.
"Okay, well, Dad's at the store - thank God -" He interrupted himself, putting his hands together and looking up, earning a chuckle from you, "but everyone else, excluding Cam, is here."
Your heart drops at his sentence. Your second oldest brother, Cameron, hadn't been to a family gathering since he moved out. You can't say you blame him, knowing your family, you wish you'd had the heart to leave too. It was still disappointing, despite how much you understood. Cam and you had always been the closest growing up, and your heart ached, knowing the rest of your family ruined that bond for you two. You and him were only 2 years apart, him being 22, and you being 20.
You knew you shouldn't have expected him to magically appear, but you were hopeful.
"That's okay. Let's go inside, I want them to meet the rest of the dumbasses." You say, trying to hide the disappointment, and it mostly worked, but when you turned around, you knew Chris knew.
He always knew.
You smiled at him and grabbed his hand, leading him into your house, gesturing Matt and Nick to follow.
Peter leads everyone down the hallway, the sound of playful yelling sounding from the living room. Peter took a left, walking into the room, smiling widely.
"Guess who's here!" He says happily, turning around to you, who stands in the doorway, smiling widely.
James, Maya, and Julia, your younger siblings, looked up and smiled widely.
"Y/nnnn!" Maya yelled, getting up and hugging you tightly. "Woah! Hey, hi baby." You say, smiling into her head.
Maya was the youngest, at 11 years old. She was the peacemaker, no matter how demanding, she probably had the best communication skills out of everyone. Which is saying something, she's 11.
"Alright, alright, save some for us." You look up and see your youngest brother, James, standing next to Julia, waiting their turn for a hug.
You let go of Maya and walk over to the 15 year old twins and embrace them tightly. God, how you missed them. This hug was shorter, only because your mother spoke up.
"Well, finally! What took you guys so long?" She asked, rolling her eyes. You break the hug, sighing heavily.
"Hi, mom. I'm happy to see you, too. Uh, this is Chris and his triplet brothers, Matt and Nick." You say, lifting your hand, gesturing towards the three men.
You smile as your siblings exchange greetings with the triplets, just as Peter did, happy that they were in a good mood. You turn back to your mom, who has a strange look on her face.
"What?" You ask, confused, sitting down on the couch next to her. "I thought you were only bringing your boyfriend? Or are you dating all three?"
Your eyes shoot to hers, a look of disgust covering your face. "What-Mom, no! Matt's talking to someone and Nick..." You cut yourself off, debating whether or not telling you mom about Nick's sexuality. It's not that your mom was homophobic, she just wasn't exactly open to it. You knew that if you told her, she'd figure out a way to make an untimely and out of pocket comment about it.
"Nick...?" Your mom gestures you to continue speaking.
You open your mouth to speak, but you hear the front door open. Oh shit. The party has started.
"Dad's here!" Maya shouts, running to the door. Chris sat down on the couch next to you, Matt and Nick next to him.
You notice Nick talking to Julia about her favorite music artists, and it looks like their having a good time. Peter and Matt seem to be getting along, while Chris and James talk about the most recent Celtics game.
Despite all the calm conversations going on around you, you can't help but feel nervous. Your dad's here, which puts everyone, at least on your side, on high alert, making sure they tiptoe on their words.
Chris notices you tense up and place his hand on your thigh, which you reach and squeeze his hand, not for his sake, but for yours.
Your dad walks in and freezes for a moment. It was a long moment, long enough for everyone to notice his presence and get silent. You and him stare at each other, not breaking eye contact for a minute.
Finally, after the deafening silence, you decide to speak. "Hey, dad." You breathe.
His shocked face turns into a soft smile. "Hey, kiddo, c'mere." You smile softly, cherishing the peace while it lasts. You stand up and walk over to your dad and embrace him. You knew what he was capable of, but you also knew how much he loved you and your siblings.
You could be mad at him all you wanted, but he's still your dad. "I missed you, y/n." He mutters into your head. You smile into his chest because as much as you hated to admit it, you missed him too. When he wasn't drunk or being an ass, he was a pretty awesome person.
You pull away, and he kisses your cheek before gesturing to the audience behind you. "And who are these fine gentlemen?" He asked.
You smiled. "That one's Chris, my boyfriend, and those are his triplet brothers, Nick and Matt." You say, gesturing to the boys, who wave as their introduced.
"Nice to meet you all, especially you, Chris." He smiles sarcastically. Here we go.
Suddenly, his demeanor changed. His shoulders tensed, and his fist clenched. You look at him curiously and wonder what flipped the switch, what pissed him off this time.
Chris smiles kindly. "Nice to meet you, too, sir."
Your dad nods before glancing at you and looking up again. "Dinner should be ready. How's everyone feel about spaghetti?" He clapsed his hands together.
He earns a collective 'yes' from everyone before picking up Maya in his arms and carrying her to the kitchen. Everyone stands up and begins to follow, except for you and Chris. He grabs your hand and pulls you closer to him.
"You okay, ma?" He asked. He must've noticed your demeanor change from happy and cheery to suspicious and confusion.
You nod your head hesitantly, still thinking about how quickly your father changed his mind about being kind. "Uh... yeah, yeah, I'm okay." You say softly.
He looks at you curiously. "Are you sure?" You nod again. "Yeah, let's go eat."
____
Quiet chatter amongst the families began at the dinner table, after everybody had gotten food. You noticed your anxiety seemingly grow stronger as the dinner continued. Nothing had happened yet, and that's what scared you.
Your leg bounced under the table, and despite Chris's attempts to soothe you by rubbing your thigh, nothing seemed to work. Even Chris's touch seemed to be too much, too overwhelming.
You feel your breathing catch in your throat, and suddenly, the gentle chatter becomes too overwhelming. The scraping of the forks echoed loudly in your ears as your hands started to sweat.
You stand up abruptly, catching the attention of all three triplets and James.
"Excuse me." You muttered before rushing to the bathroom and closing the door.
You curl into a ball, breathing heavily as tears fall from your eyes. You weren't having a panic attack yet, but if you didn't get your breathing in check, you'd get one soon.
You list off things in your head, things that make you happy. Sunshine, Chris, dogs in clothes, Chris, Sour Patch Kids, Chris
Speaking of which, you hear the door open, and you force yourself to look up, seeing your loving boyfriend. He got down on your level, taking your hand and putting it on his chest.
You catch on quickly, taking breaths that match his, well, kinda. Yours are shakier, but you're getting there. "It's okay, baby, you're okay. Shhh.." Chris whispers, his other hand rubbing your back.
You sigh as you finally take a deep breath of air, leaning your head against Chris's shoulder as he hands rub shapes on your back.
"It's okay, baby, you're stressing yourself out. It'll be okay." He whispers as he stands up and pulls you up with him.
He embraces you once again as you sniffle into his hoodie. You pull back and wipe your face aggressively, laughing quietly.
Chris cups your face, wiping your tears before pressing a kiss so soft, it was almost ghostlike, on your lips. You smile at him.
"Thank you, baby." You say rubbing his bicep in appreciation. He smiles down at you, kissing your forehead. "Of course, baby. I love you. Are you ready?"
You nod, and Chris opens the door, hand in yours as you all walk back into the dining room. Most conversations continued, but you noticed your dad and mom talking quietly amongst themselves, and it didn't look pleasant.
Your dad's eyes shoot to yours as he chuckles darkly.
Fuck. This can't end well.
"And what the fuck were you two doing?"
You smile, trying to swallow your fear. You notice Chris squeeze your hand, and you squeezed back in reassurance.
"Just had to take a breather. It's all good now, though, don't worry." You say as you and Chris sit down. You hope it's enough to satisfy your dad's curiosity, but unfortunately it's not.
"So you and him didn't just fuck in the bathroom." You freeze. Every conversation stops immediately at those words, as he wasn't quiet about it.
"What- dad, no. Why would you say that?" You sputter as a pink hue comes over your face. You glance at Chris, who's just as shocked as you.
"Sir, I'd never do that, especially here." Chris says calmly, but you can tell that one comment pissed him off completely.
Your dad stares at you both as a silence covers the room like a weighted blanket. Just when the tension seems to reach its peak, your dad speaks up.
"Good. Now, let's eat." He says, passing the food to you.
Jesus, this is gonna be a long night.
______________________________
Part 2 is coming soon.
@sturnioloblogs @y0urm4m @sturniolosmind @thenickgirl @muwapsturniolo @matthewsmocktailss-deactivated2 @breeloveschris @worldlxvlys @freshloveforthefit @miloisdone1 @vanteguccir @annamcdonalds67 @freshsturns @rootbeerworshiper @matty-bear @orangelala
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mytearsricochvtt · 2 days
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strawberry kisses || a.putellas
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not entirely sure if i like this or not, have had this idea for a while and finally got round to writing it while i was watching greys anatomy lol also not proof read so very sorry if there is any mistakes xo
strawberry kisses || a.putellas
alexia loved to kiss you, she would tell you that it was just because she loved kissing you, but you knew it was because of the lip balm that you wore. alexia didn't like the taste of strawberries a year ago, but that all changed the day that she kissed you and your lips tasted of strawberries. since then she has demanded that you never change your lip balm.
that was until you couldn't find it, you went to put it on in the morning after you had done your skincare but when you went to go get it, it wasn't siting on your bedside table where you thought you had put it before you went to bed.
you had searched high and low for it, trying to rack your brain to think where else you maybe had placed it. but wherever you looked it wasn't anywhere to be found.
lucky for you alexia had left an hour earlier for training, always liking to be the first person there to go over a few training drills on her own, while you would rather have an extra hour in bed. so you were hopeful that you would be able to find it before you would have to start getting ready, but after thirty minutes of looking and still no luck, you thought it would be better to stop looking for now and get changed, crossing your fingers that it would spring to mind where you had left it when you weren't looking for it.
but you of course weren't so lucky. so you had to quickly gather all the things you need for training and hurry out the door. silently hoping that maybe you had left it there instead.
_
when you arrived at training and went to the changing room all the girls bar your girlfriend were already changed and ready to head out. irene seeing your confused look told you that alexia was in the gym, which you thanked her for before you quickly changed into your training clothes. taking a quick look around the room trying to see if your lip balm was laying around here. but after looking everywhere you could think of and still not finding it, you gave up any hope of ever finding.
you let out a sigh of frustration, running your hands through your hair before you made your way to the gym with the rest of the girls.
you caught up with mapi and ingrid making polite conversation with the two, but after seeing you lick your lips every couple seconds of trying to hydrate them, ingrid held out her own lip balm for you to use.
"seems like you could use this." she told you, giving you one of her smiles that made her eyes crinkle.
"you have no idea. i lost my favourite lip balm and i get find it anywhere!" you ranted, applying the balm that she gave you. "oh, i like the flavour of this one!"
"it is raspberry jelly, you can keep it!" she told you, when you tried to hand it back to her. "seems like you need it a lot more, plus i have another one in my locker!" she then added on once she saw the look mapi gave her.
"thank you! i don't have a back up." you smiled, giving the norwegian a quick side hug.
"you don't have a back up? or a back up for your back up?" the girl questioned, making you frown at her. "a what? that's a thing?" you asked, making mapi let out a laugh.
but before either of the girls could answer you, you arrived at the gym where the rest of the girls were, making you realise that the three of you had taken a lot longer than you thought.
as soon as you walked into the room you instantly spotted alexia doing some light exercises with patri, you stared at her for a few moments, taking in the way she looked while she was doing the leg stretches and how good she looked while doing them.
you saw her eyes glance around the room, you assume she was looking for you as not even three seconds later her eyes land on you. you saw her say something to patri, before she stood up and made her way towards you.
you didn't get a chance to greet her properly before you felt her grab your hips and pull you into her, pressing her lips against your own, it didn't last as long as you would have wanted, as she pulled away before you could count.
when you opened your eyes again, you saw the confused look that had taken over her face, a slight pout on her lips. "you will gets lines," you reminded her, gently running your pointed finger over her forehead.
she tilted her head slightly before she kissed you again, this one lasted a little longer than the last one, but she once again pulled away too quickly for your liking.
"what's wrong?" you asked her, when you saw the look of confusion on her face once again.
"you changed the flavour of your lip balm."
"yeah, i lost the strawberry one and could not find it anywhere! so, ingrid gave me her spare one, but apparently i should have a back up, and a back up for the back up."
"you don't have a back up?" alexia questioned, "since when was a back up a thing? and why am i now just finding out about it?"
"what flavour is it?" your girlfriend asked, "raspberry jelly. why? don't you like it?" your frowned, "it's not that i don't like it, i just liked the strawberry one a lot better."
"i am sure it will grow on you just like the strawberry one did," you said, lightly scratching the back of her neck. "i love the strawberry one though! Era mi parte favorita de besarte,” she pouted.
you let out a small gasp, "you mean to tell me that the only reason you kissed me that much was because of the taste of my lips?" you joked, making alexia chuckle.
"the taste of your lips is my idea of luxury!" she told you, placing a handful of kisses to your lips. "i kissed you because i love kissing you, and because of the taste of your lips." she joked, "but seriously, you need to get more of the strawberry one, i like that one a lot more!"
"hmm, maybe i will just keep using this one."
"then maybe i won't kiss you as much."
"then you will be missing out, because of my lips are fucking amazing! y'know, maybe i should find someone else who will appreciate the taste of my lips." you joked, unwrapping her arms from around your waist, pretending to look around the room.
but before you could do anything else, you felt two strong hands grab your hips, pulling you flush against her front. "is that the best you could do?"
"i heard ingrid is a good kisser, maybe i should go and kiss her instead, i am sure mapi won't mind-" you didn't get to finish your sentence before you felt ale's lips pressed against yours, one of her hands found home on your hip while the other slide up your side until her hand rested on your neck.
she didn't choke you, just kissed you so deep you forgot whose air you were breathing.
you were thanking god that you were stood in a place where no one else could see you.
“Nadie más puede hacerte sentir como yo cuando te beso, mi amor”
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aventureen · 3 days
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Unfinished Staccato / Slave!Aventurine x Reader
A/N : I had made a continuation due to high demand and also came up with a title when I uploaded this on AO3 earlier OwO)
WARNING : NOT CANON COMPLIANT, written before 2.1 release, So much fluff, Reader once again spoiling him, psychological trauma, mentions of PTSD (Aventurine), SHOPPING EPISODE BASICALLY
Word Count : 1,8K
Previous Chapter : Part One
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“Here it is!” You came back not too long after. He turns his head to your direction, feeling curious. You brushed his bangs away, taking a good look at his eyes. Your pupils dilated at the realization. They're so pretty. 
You can't help but to get hypnotized by his pink eyes. There's a blue ring adorning his pupil and your mouth slightly gaped at the sight. You never really got the chance to see his eyes up close, but you can see why he's unique and people must've known how to differentiate his race from the others. Aventurine seems like he's too anxious to say anything. After all, compared to what people did to him, what you did is way more tame. He likes the way your hand brushes softly against him. 
“Is there anything wrong, ma'am?” You got snapped out of your trance and you chuckled nervously. 
“Ah- sorry for being rude! It's just… your eyes are so beautiful!” You beamed at him. Aventurine did not expect that at all. He curses his eyes a lot because it brings him to an endless misfortune that was downed to him, he never really thinks that someone is going to heartfully compliment it. His silence alerts you and you suddenly feel stupid. His sigonian eyes is what brings him here in the first place. 
“I'm sorry! Oh aeons I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to offend you- that's so insensitive of me-” You moved back from him but he cuts you before you can blame yourself further. 
“--Thank you,” You finally stopped. Did he just-
“I know you mean well…” Aventurine smiles for the first time during his stay and you had the urge to put on the sunglasses because damn, his smiling face fucking glows like the sun. You smiled back, giving him his sunglasses. 
“Alright! Let's get you some clothes!”
You took him inside your vehicle before you skillfully drove your beloved car, taking him to the city's center. Aventurine is pretty much tense, his hands groping his poor trousers. He's chewing the insides of his cheek as the last time he were to ride a car, he was thrown inside the trunk. You took a glance on him at the red lights and managed to talk to him to lighten up the mood, 
“Are you alright? You looked nervous,”
“I'm just…-” He was about to tell you about some things that's bothering his mind but he's too scared at the idea of you, noting his weakness to ruin him somewhere in the future. 
“-cold. That's all, ma'am,” 
“Why don't you say so?!” you turned down the A/C before focusing back on the road. Now that he had said it, Aventurine tried to relax his body and he finally succeeded. He still doesn't get why you're so attentive towards him though, it feels sickeningly pleasant to him he doesn't know how to regulate his emotions. He responds better to negative treatments after all. It seems that the best option for Aventurine now is to enjoy it while it lasts. 
The two of you arrived in the shopping district in no time. Aventurine is not sure if you want him to stay in the car or not when you walk out, so he stays like the obedient slave he is. Only for you to open the door for him and he almost jumped from his seat. 
“Why aren't you going out? We're looking for clothes for you!” he was in a dazed state before you gently grabbed his hand to help him up. You locked your car and went on the task at hand. You're practically skipping on your way to one of the boutiques while he nervously follows behind you like a lost puppy. 
“Is there any shop that catches your interest?”
“I'm… not quite sure, ma'am. I haven't been in one and I'll trust your judgment that you know where the most affordable ones are.”
“Hmmm… in that case,” You linked your arm with his and you dragged him to the most expensive looking one. He audibly gasped and his face went pale. You must be joking. Or at least you must've been teasing him. But no, you went in and asked one of the waiters where the man section's at. You must be crazy! 
“Ma'am, I don't think this store is suitable for me-”
“I thought you trusted my judgment, Aventurine?” You gave him a sly smirk and he cannot argue with that. You looked around with him. If you hadn't linked your arm in his he would've stayed on the entrance. 
“Anything that catches your attention? Anything you like?”
“I'm not sure that I can have this, ma'am,” 
“Of course you can! I make the rules here!” You let yourself free and grabbed their teal shirt. It had excellent tailored work and the cloth feels nice against your skin. The waiter also follows you around to assist you. Aventurine is literally squirming behind you, hoping that you won't buy him anything from this shop. Three of these things could literally cost him himself. 
“You should try this one,” the worker is holding the piece for you while you look around the shop once again. Aventurine didn't say anything as he feared that if he speaks again you'll end up getting more things for him. After a few minutes of hopping around the displays, you ended up with a set of clothes. A teal shirt, and a set of black suit and dress pants. Aventurine had a massive existential crisis at your behavior and he cannot possibly follow your ways of thinking. He had his ways of calculating one's behavior but you're just so out of his league. 
“I think that's all for now! Where's your dressing room?” The waiter showed you the way and they left the two of you alone by your request. Even the dressing room is so spacious. 
“You try these on and let me see the results, okay? I'll wait outside,” He can't do anything but nod at your request. He had miscalculated everything. It seems that you're way more terrifying than his previous owners in a way. 
Aventurine carefully takes off his sunglasses, taking his time in changing. He wouldn't want to damage these expensive shits. He can see your foot walking away from the dressing room's front and he got anxious. 
Are you going to leave him alone here? 
That would make a very cruel joke but he can take it, maybe. The blond tried to brush off his negative thoughts and managed to put on the coat. They all fit his figure so perfectly. He can't help but to look at the full body mirror in front of him. His mind cannot comprehend the view as he feels like his value had increased tenfold. A small knock cuts him off his thoughts. 
“Are you done? I want to see!!” he groggily opens the lock and peeks his head out to see you holding a pair of gloves. So you were just strolling around earlier. 
You opened the door and gasped at the view. 
“No way! I thought I had good taste but man, you nailed it so bad!” You grabbed his hand to put on the gloves. You took another look at him and he felt judged under your gaze. Moving closer to him, you undo the top buttons on his shirt, styling it and brushes some of his hair away from his forehead. You tried to ruffle his hair to give it a little bit more volume before you stepped back, inspecting your work. Perfection. 
“Oh you should really see yourself!” you turned his body to look back at the mirror and his eyes widened. He looks nothing like a slave. Smiling widely at your magnum opus, you nudged him a bit. 
“A smile will do the trick,” 
“Ma'am-”
“Come on, we both know you're handsome so do me a little favor won't you?” he unconsciously smiled at your compliment. That's it. He smiled at the mirror reflecting himself and you chuckled delightfully. 
“We're buying everything!”
“Ma'am please-”
“I know you liked it!” You marched your way to the cashier and he's not sure what to do. Should he take off his clothes? He stayed in the dressing room like a mannequin before you came back with a shopping bag. 
“Save that rag here, you're going out with this look!” you helped him put on his glasses back and he complied, holding the bag and stuffing it with his previous clothes. 
“Now we should look for cozier clothes too! You'll spend most of your time at home so it'll be very much necessary,”
“This is too much, ma'am-”
“Of course not! You just came here and we're not going home until we have everything you need!” you linked your arm with his again and you lead the way to the next destination. 
After a few stops, Aventurine had his arms full of shopping bags from various stores. Just how many credits had you spent on him?! It just doesn't count! 
Deciding that it's enough for the day, the two of you headed back to the car. It was morning when you came here and now the sun is already setting outside. On the way back home, Aventurine cannot shrug off the way you dozed so frequently when he's idle. When you're having lunch with him, you just eat like three spoons of your meal before your face falls flat on the table. Even after he's done with his meal you're still soundly asleep. Maybe you're tired yourself last night. He starts to wonder what you could've been doing but then again, he's not in his place to question your behavior. 
Back at home, you helped him with his wardrobe, cleaning the storage before placing his newly bought attires. 
“I'm gonna change, I think you can manage it yourself from here!” You excused yourself out of his room and he continued his task at hand. He had changed to a more comfortable clothes and he couldn't help but to stare at the suit you bought him, hanging so proudly on his hanger. Aventurine pinches his cheek to check that he's currently dreaming but it hurts so, wow, what a day. 
A few times passed before there's another knock on his door. He opened the door to see you now looking more fresh, with another set of fancy clothes adorning your form. Are you going out again? 
“I'm heading out again tonight. Sorry I can't make you dinner but there are some ingredients inside the fridge so you should be able to whip something up! I'll lock the door and don't wait for me!” You walked away from his room. He hadn't had the chance to ask anything but you had left the house in no time. Your car's engine blares before it's all quiet again. 
He tried to guess your job but came up with nothing. Nothing pleasant, at least. But he'll wait some other time to ask you about it. It hasn't been more than two days yet his plan to terminate you is now long gone.
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Can you guess Reader's job? ;) Also will you be interested if I turned this one into a series? Please let me know! I would like some feedbacks too if it's possible <3
If you like my work, consider tipping me on ko-fi! Thank you for reading!
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twilghtkoo · 2 days
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telling my boyfriend my tampon is stuck . . .
pairings. haechan x reader (f)
genre. crack, fluff? established relationship
warnings. mentions of period blood lol
note. i've wanted to do this one for awhile lol and i finally had time to write this quickly so sorry if it's short, like and reblogs are vv much appreciated !! enjoy <3
[ series masterlist | masterlist ]
-
"babe?" you call out quietly, sounding nervous, from the bathroom.
you hear rustling in your bedroom. "yeah," he responds.
"can you come here please?" you wait patiently, swaying on your feet.
he appears a few feet away from the doorway. "what's up, baby?"
with him now standing in front of you, you're not sure how to go about this and you have to fight your inner self from bursting out into fits of nervous giggles.
you start fiddling with the rings around your fingers. "umm, i can't get my tampon out. it's stuck.."
his mouth slightly opens as he glances down then back up at you. "oh god, the string is gone?" he slightly chuckles but inches towards you, reaching with his hand to softly grab onto your elbow.
his reaction has you both chuckling a bit. "yeah, it's pretty far up there. i'm scared."
he nods, "okay, i'll get it." he replies, as if this was a normal occurence.
"no, no wait. it's bloody and gross."
he blinks. "so? i'll wash my hands first, you should lie down- wait i'll set a towel down for you. let me grab a flashlight-"
your head snaps towards him, grabbing his hand from leaving the room, with your eyes wide. "a flashlight? wait, no it's scary." you back away, laughing out of fear.
"baby, trust me i'll find it. we don't wanna leave it in there do we?" he quirks an eyebrow.
"well, no but-" he cuts you off.
leaving to grab a towel from the linen closet as he neatly places it down on the tiled floor. "i'm not walking into uncharted territory babe, don't you worry. take your pants off, lie down, knees up-"
"baby, wait!"
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azsazz · 2 days
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Eris x Rhysands!Sister Reader
Summary: Anon Req: Literally in love with every fic you write. I know your requests are closed but in the future, could you write something where Eris and the reader see each other and there’s a lot of tension and they’re secretly mates but no one knows? I’m curious to see how you’d end it!
Warnings: Angst
Word Count: 1,217
Notes: Love this tbh!!!
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You feel him before you see him. 
You can feel him all the time; even when he’s courts away there’s that connection humming blissfully in your chest. It’s comforting, to know that your mate is alive and well, that there’s a surety you’re aware of him and how he’s feeling. When he’s content in a warm bath with a glass of fae wine smoothing the creases between his brows. When he’s squaring his shoulders and surging with pride for the sparring with his brothers he has won again. When he sends a warmth so suggestive down the bond late at night when he’s sure there’s no one around. The very one you feel deep in your soul, that makes your core melt like his fire-filled hands are working your center. The one that leaves no questions whether he loves you or not.
Of course, there are times when you can’t feel him. When he’s blocked the bond from ever reaching you when his father brings his wrath down on him like he’s young and defenseless again. He always hides that from you. When the distance from you becomes too great and there is no choice for him but to block the bond because he knows that there is nothing that can be done in the current state of Pythian. No way for the both of you to be together, no way for him to seize you from the control of your older brother. If you were lesser than the High Lord’s younger sister, he’d sneak across the border lines on a whisper of autumn winds and find his way into your bed. 
It’s been ages since you’ve seen your mate, since you looked into those warm russet eyes, ran your fingers through his auburn hair, counted the freckles dotting the pale skin of his cheeks. 
Your breath catches in your throat as Eris is escorted into Rhysand’s office and your eyes meet. 
A sense of relief floods the bond as his eyes move over you in an intentional sweep that to everyone else in the room looks like he’s wondering why you’re here, but you know your mate is assessing you for injuries even though you’re nowhere near injured. Not even a scratch or a bruise on your perfect skin. 
No one notices the slight falter in his steps. All Eris wants to do is rush over to you and sweep you in his arms and press you into his chest, feel your heartbeat against his own. He wants to taste that smile you’re trying all too hard to hide from him, move his mouth across the color dusting your cheeks to feel his fire dancing underneath your skin. He wants to strip you bare, devour every inch of you. He wants to hear you scream his name, whisper that you love him, cry for him to take you away, admit that you never want to be apart—
But he’s not even allowed to sit next to you. 
Across the large table is as close as he allows himself to get. It’s not close enough that he can accidentally kick his foot against yours and he doesn’t like that you’ve been meticulously placed on the opposite side so he can’t even walk past you and brush his fingers against your hand or the back of your neck. 
His bond keens in his chest and he tries his best to stifle it, ripping his gaze away when he’s drawn to you like this. 
Eris is flanked by Cassian and Azriel, and even though he feels as if he’s on the best terms he’s ever been with the Night Court, this feels like a set up. A trap.
You allow a caress of reassurance down the bond to your mate. Your brother doesn’t know, no one in this room, in this court, in this continent knows of your connection to the heir of Autumn. Eris’ throat works as he swallows, and you turn your attention away from him as he sends a feeling of understanding back to you.
“Eris.” Rhysand gestures to the autumn born royal to sit. He’s lounging in his own chair at the circular table, an arrogance to him that irks you. It’s all a front, of course, one Rhysand has carefully crafted to perfection from centuries as High Lord. You don’t like that it’s directed at your mate, and you’re feeling more protective than ever, flickering a glance over to the males sitting on either side of your mate, as if they’re caging him in.
Not unusual for an untrusted male in your court. You’ve seen your brother pull this same maneuver more times than you can count, but there’s a charge to the air that feels different. Your spine lengthens and you flare a warning down the bond, praying your mate doesn’t react but readies himself. 
He follows your heed with unfaltering trust. Eris’ fingers flex where they’re resting on the arms of his chair, and you watch him unhinge his jaw only slightly, so that he doesn’t flex it. The scalding look on his face stays directed at your brother.
Your lips part and the muscles of your legs tense, ready to jump out of your chair in the next moment, when you catch Rhysand’s smirk, the one that spells trouble. His violet eyes are dark with the promise of violence and his shadows are quick to strike, tendrils of nightmares winding their way around Eris’ wrists, trapping him to the very chair he was offered.
Eris shifts his hands in a nonchalant motion, testing out the strength of the sentient darkness Rhysand uses to hold him hostage. They don’t give an inch and he wonders for a fleeting moment if he can burn them away. If your worry wasn’t heavy in his chest, the beat of your heart spiking double, he would try it. But with you here, he’s not willing to try anything that could potentially put you in danger.
Plus, a part of him wants to hear what Rhysand has to say. The other part of him wants to get you the fuck out of here.
The High Lord of the Night Court plants his hands on the table. High Lord, because there is no ounce of your brother in his eyes and actions right now.
The chair scraping against the floor as Rhysand stands is the only sound in the room. Cassian nor Azriel moves from their seats, but they pin your mate with the menacing kind of looks that mirror Rhysands, ready to follow his every demand, no questions asked. 
“Eris,” Rhysand’s voice is not its usual purr as he leans forward. A strand of hair falling across his forehead is the only sign of the crack in his facade, the utter rage filling the room with an unbearable tautness.
The words are sticky in your throat. You can’t move, can’t seem to take your eyes off of your brother as your heart splinters in your chest like it’s his own shadows tearing you to strips. You’re only able to manage a quiet, “Don’t,” that’s filled with too much desperation.
Rhysand ignores your words. He hisses at Eris, dark and low. “How long have you and my sister been keeping this little mating bond of yours a secret?”
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