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#there is so many thing in this writing. so many.
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Hi so I have a couple ideas for your drabble! Reader and Cassian trying to hide the black eye Cass accidentally gave her during training from Azriel or Azriel being jealous of the readers book boyfriend(s)
Pairing: Azriel x Reader
Word count: ~700
Warnings: Injury
a/n: Yayy this was so cute and fun to write :) I did your first idea!
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“Holy shit, I’m dead,” Cassian cursed, his hand resting on your back as you hunched over in the training ring. “Shit, shit, shit.” 
You groaned, holding your hand up to your eye in a futile attempt to relieve some of the pain. “I’m fine by the way,” you grumbled, slowly rising to catch the panicked gaze of your friend. “It’s fine, Cass. It’ll be nothing in a day or so.” 
“Y/n, you’ve been mated for a month.” 
His elbow to your head must have made you delirious. You furrowed your brows and immediately regretted the action. “Yes?” 
“Y/n,” Cassian repeated. “A month. 30 days. Azriel is going to pummel me into the ground when he sees you. You already have a bruise forming.” 
“He won't!” you brushed him off, rising on shaking legs. “He was the one to suggest that I train with you. Getting black eyes comes with the territory. It’s like a battle scar. Very impressive.” 
The General bent down to inspect your eye further, his expression pinched in worry. “Gods, I did a number on you. I’m sorry. Azriel is going to kill me.” 
You sighed, the pity within you growing greater than the pain. “Well, then Azriel won’t find out, will he?” 
~~
Your plan was not going well. 
You’d ignored every call down the bond and spent most of the day in the library. But then you realized the library had many dark crevices where shadows could linger and give away your secrets, so then you spent the rest of the day in a park. In direct sunlight. 
The longer you spent away from Azriel, the faster your eye could heal. You’d just glamour it, but that would most certainly be worse. Azriel could scent a glamour from a mile away, and then he’d be more angry at the lie. 
If you rode out the rest of the day, alone and dismissing every call from your mate, things would go more smoothly. At least that’s what you told yourself as you slammed a sturdy wall down in response to your mate’s gentle tug at the bond. 
Poor Cassian, with his rough and tumble face all sad and worried. 
You had to hide this for him. 
“So you’ve been avoiding me in favor of sunbathing?” 
A screech left your lips involuntarily at the sound of the Shadowsinger materialzing at your side. You quickly rolled over on the blanket you’d called home for the past few hours, burying your face in your arm. 
That was a completely normal response. 
“Um, hi,” you greeted, words muffled in your elbow. “I was just taking the day.” 
“Taking the day?” he asked. 
“Yeah.” 
You felt a shadow overtaking your body, the Illyrian closing in on you. “Odd, considering you told me the list of things you had planned today just this morning. None of which included sunbathing in a park. Or avoiding me.” 
“I’m not avoiding you!” you stressed. 
This looked ridiculous, you were sure. 
The sound of leather bending met your ears, and scarred hands lingered on your arm. “Are you okay?” 
To quote a close friend—shit. 
You couldn’t continue to hide when he sounded like that—all sweet and concerned. 
You needed to get your emotions in check. 
“I’m okay,” you mumbled, but speaking the words into your blanket felt so insincere. 
You had to stay strong. 
“Are you angry with me?” 
Your resolve didn’t just crack. It was decimated and then ground into dust on the ground. Azriel ran a hand from your arm up to the back of your head and you were a goner. 
“You have to promise not to get mad, okay?” you almost whined, guilt eating away at you. 
“Why would I be mad, angel?” Azriel posed, clear confusion lacing his tone. 
“Just—promise.” 
A beat of silence. The hand on your head tucked your hair behind your ear, but you refused to move until his confirmation came. 
“Okay, I promise.” 
You slid your face out from the crook of your elbow, wincing in anticipation as your eyes adjusted to the light and Azriel’s expression went from one of confusion, to panic, to rage. 
“Who—” he began, but you sat up quickly and rushed your own explanation.
“It was an accident!” 
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missingn000 · 2 days
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hey all! i wrote a what-if character study & action fic for if king fought sanji instead of zoro during the raid on onigashima. i'd really love if you gave it a read! thanks so much!
link
playlist
happy reading!
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moondirti · 3 days
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Hellloooo🖤 I’m the anon who asked about the Safehouse story!
My brain, unfortunately, is not nearly as wrinkly as yours so I cannot come up with creative ideas like you 😂 BUT! I have a few ideas? Maybe? If you can call them that lol.
Was the spanking the first physical interaction they had? What did the morning after that look like?
What happens if reader has a nasty mental health episode & tries to hide it from Ghost?
Does the pet thing progress? I think we all know that Ghost has a thing for the pet play. I don’t even care, that’s totally canon for me at this point.
Would you ever consider writing about the general dynamic they have? Like the “rules” Ghost might have for them?
Totally and completely a self indulgent ask from someone who just had to pull themselves out of a nasty mental health episode lmao I’m so sorry please ignore this if it’s annoying or dumb!
shh i love all of these. i have so many thoughts now / prev
cw: dubcon d/s lifestyle. petplay. controlling behaviour. possessiveness. panic attacks. toxicity. noncon collaring. financial manipulation. mention of self harm. brief fluff.
Your thing with Simon is hard to contextualise.
Or even understand, really.
Parts of it are welcome. He asserts himself in a way you haven't found in the nobodies you've hooked up with previous, happy to fuck you dumb if it means you'll surrender yourself completely. Which you do. You listen intently and follow every direction he gives in bed, and as a reward he wrings orgasm after orgasm from your squirming body. You cum more in one week than you have in the past month, never not naked and sore, wrists tender from where he anchors his hand to keep them pinned above your head. You hear puppy more than your own name, at this point. And it's a concerning because– Well...
You don't mind it.
But you still don't like him.
It isn't like you necessarily need to like your partners in order to have a good time, but it certainly helps if you can tolerate them beyond a dick-in-hole condition. Simon is an anomaly in that he is the worst person you know, whilst also serving as the best lay you've ever had.
That is to say, his habits haven't changed. He's a fucking terror to live with. Nightmare flatmate, the type you see strangers complain about on reddit forums or hear in a friends story from their sister's husband's cousin. Not something you would take seriously until you live the experience – now existing as a sore, precautionary tale you'll no doubt be pitching to anyone also considering subleasing their place as a safe house.
Perhaps it's made worse by the sexual element you share. Before, he had just been your average perverse man, stealing clothes and walking in on you in the bathroom. Now, it seems that sleeping with him has given him the go-ahead to push that behaviour to an extreme. He'll pat your ass while you go about your business, or tug your hair when you raise your voice. Treats you like a pet that has yet to be debarked; just a silly, sub-human way of entertainment.
You can't help but feel you enabled it. But no–
The pet play is cute when he's drilling your brains out – and perhaps only because you can't think straight enough to raise concern – but you're not a dog. Nor do you want to be treated like one throughout all hours of the day. The onus is on him for not catching the hint.
But of course, accountability isn't in his lexicon.
Things only get worse from there.
"An' where d'you think you're going?"
You're halfway out of the door when he catches you leaving.
If you had been more iron-willed, you would slip out and scurry away before he can continue whatever spiel he has stirring. Instead, it's instinct to shrivel in on yourself, clicking the door shut before turning to face the behemoth waiting in the foyer.
"Out." You huff, intent on cold-stoning him. But it's a fools game when your opponent in the broad-shouldered lieutenant – for he merely cocks his head, waiting your silence out with more silence, and it's all you can do to bite your tongue against the deluge of excuses that pile up. "My mates thought it would be a good idea to catch brunch. Y'know– to celebrate the start of summer break. It's a nice day out so..." You gesture to your attire, like you have any reason to justify a sundress to some man you are in no way committed to.
But you can read the possessive gleam of his eyes as they take stock of your appearance: from your expensive mules, up your moisturised legs, to the low cut of your décolletage. It's easy to connect it to that look he had when you came back home that fateful night, the look of warning before he'd taken you over his lap and slapped your ass raw.
And for some odd reason, you're compelled to dig yourself out of trouble.
"Hm. It is a nice day, innit?" You nod a bit too quick. He stalks closer. "Lots of people out." Your nod is a little less enthusiastic. He's centimetres away now. "Some bad, bad men too."
He lifts the ends of your dress, slowly. Your next words quiver on their way out your chest. It's alarming to find that they don't sound nearly as assertive as you intend for them to be, not like they do horny.
"Where are you going with this?"
Your skirt pools around your hips now, held up by one hand as the other smooths over with the gusset of your panties.
"You plan on lettin' them have at this puppycunt? Have I not been givin' it enough attention?" He mockingly coos, pressing harder against the mound between your legs. Your knees grow weak. Not of your own accord, but weak nonetheless, and you have to hold onto his wrist to keep yourself upright. "Is tha' it?"
"N-No–"
"No? But that's what they'll think seeing you walk around like this, silly thing. Poor, neglected mutt, they'll say. Don't have a firm hand to keep 'er in line." Simon tuts, releasing his grip on your dress to pull something out of his back pocket. With the way he crowds into you, you can't crane your head to see what it is. "Now we can't have tha'. I spoil my girl rotten, wouldn' you say?"
"Yes. Yes but–"
"No buts, pup. Have ta stake my claim on you somehow." Something clicks. All too suddenly, you're made aware of the new weight on your neck. It tightens against the column of your throat – not enough to constrict your airways, but enough so that it hinders the way you move. "There we go. So pretty like this."
Panic seizes you, the steel fist of paralysis capturing your muscles in a vice-like clutch. Even as Simon pulls away, you're almost scared to find yourself in the nearest mirror. Scared of what you'll find dangling between your collarbones. There's no mistaking the textured leather that presses against your skin, nor the soft clink of metal hanging from it. No fooling yourself that this is all some cruel joke, not with the sick leer of satisfaction that warps his face.
Stumbling, you navigate to the bathroom and blindly turn on a light.
That cruel fuck.
"Simon," Your voice is devoid of the anger you feel roaring through your veins, circuiting through the frenzied stutter of your heart to find new passion. Instead, you sound horrified. Near hysterical, choking on your own pleas as you run back to the foyer. Your hands tug at the collar clasped around your neck, desperately searching for a buckle that will aid you in ripping it off, despite seeing the lock latched right at the centre that tells of its permanence. What's more, he had it engraved with a crude variation of a dog collar tag. If lost, leave alone. Or else count your days. "S-Simon, Simon please. Fuck– take it off. Take it off, take it off! I don't want this, I don't want... This isn't funny. I'll change if that's what it takes. Please."
Snot bursts from your nose, cheeks wet with a hot mess of tears. You can't suppress the hiccups that interrupt your begging like pathetic shots to the chest, or the weak hits you beat across his pecs. If you could, then perhaps he would give your tantrum more weight.
As it stands, you're nothing but a feral creature resisting training.
"Shhh. Pets can' speak. Pets don't cry." His thumbs press to your under eyes, tamping the flow of brine that mark steady tracks from your lashes. "You'll ruin your makeup like this."
"Si–"
He stare hardens into something dangerous. Against your better judgment, you clamp your lips shut.
"That's it. You're s'good when you listen to me, pup." Once he's sure you've stopped crying, he removes his thumbs to instead push one into your mouth. You can taste the salty residue of your tears on his fingertips. "Now, this is the bes' of both worlds, see? You can go see your friends with this on. I know pets need their playtime, af'er all."
You arch your back in protest, but all that does is bring you closer to the lieutenant. He misinterprets that entirely, of course, and a small smile breaks his face like you've agreed to his terms. A heavy palm pats your ass.
"S'jus' so you don't forget who you belong to." He chuckles. "An' if your friends like the idea, then I have a few friends for them."
You make it one block before hightailing back home.
Nothing in you wanted to give that bastard the satisfaction, but he made it so that whatever you chose to do – stay home or leave wearing a symbol of his ownership – he'd end up triumphant. Naturally, then, you opted for the lesser of two evils: to leave his vicinity immediately. Besides, you'd promised your girls you'd see them after going AWOL the past fortnight, and you knew you'd get an earful if you decided to reschedule at the last moment.
You thought you would convince them it was a bet. That the collar is just some silly joke you have to bear for the day after a football match didn't go in your favour.
But you make it one block before a tradie on his lunch break catcalls you (you about that freaky ting, beautiful?) and decide to change course completely.
You arrive back at your flat without further incident. Ego stung from the various odd looks you received on your way, but nothing as egregious as being singled out as a freak in the midst of a crowd occurs again.
Still, your hands shake as you push your key into its slot.
Which progress to full body tremors as you turn it in place.
Thankfully, Simon isn't waiting on you on the other side of the door. He sits, manspreading on the couch instead, focus zeroed in on the telly that broadcasts Fulham v Man City. When he doesn't look away, you allow yourself to hope he hadn't heard you come in. But it's a naive pool to place your faith in. Nothing escapes the man, and soon enough, his tone of humoured indifference shatters the silence you've been precariously trying to keep.
"Miss me 'lready?"
A wretched sulk, pit of anger hollowing out anew. You swiftly snatch your laptop from the breakfast bar before storming to your room, making sure to lock the door firmly behind you.
The website is bookmarked. Taunting. Sublet your home as a safehouse for our armed forces. Serve your country and help soldiers find refuge. You would laugh if you weren't so single-minded, typing in your email and password upon being prompted to. You don't have to deal with this shit any longer, nor do you intend to. If you remember correctly, there had been a way to report any problems you face. If you phrase yours right, you might just get Simon pulled from your services.
Good dick be damned.
But when you hit enter to sign in, an error message blinks in red.
Account does not exist.
Which is fine. Shit like this happens all the time. There's no reason to work yourself into a panic, you probably just used the wrong email.
So you try your alternate. Account does not exist.
It feels unlikely, but maybe you'd created it under your school email to give yourself credibility. Only–
Account does not exist.
Your blood pressure is no doubt sky high by now. Other symptoms of stress already start to wrack through you – blurry vision, chest aches, difficulty breathing. Your hands sweat excessively as you dig for the customer care number you're sure exists somewhere, efforts impaired by the ever-present weight of the collar around your neck. You wonder if Simon can smell your anxiety like a predator does its prey. If he's in the other room, salivating, waiting for you to wobble out of your room to go for the kill. Some part of you – a needlessly paranoid part – rests on the conclusion that this is somehow his fault too.
Your phone already rings in an outgoing call once you blink back to the present. While you've been functioning on autopilot, you must have found a number to call that related close enough to your issue.
And your suspicion is confirmed when an automated voice picks up. You are currently... second... in line.
It takes five minutes. When a placating woman speaks up amidst the nauseating music they have queued, you can hardly contain yourself from word-vomiting onto her. Safehouse signup. Lost account. Need to report an issue. Please. It's urgent.
"Okay ma'am. If you could give me your name, I'll be happy to find the source of your problem today." You can't spell it out any faster. "Alright. One moment, please."
"O-okay." You sniffle miserably.
"I see. I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this, but it seems that you've been pulled from the program after a complaint was lodged against you. Unfortunately I can't provide more detail than that, but if you need anything else, I would be happy to assi–"
You hang up. The poor thing doesn't need to hear the incensed scream that tears from the deepest parts of you, or the following crack as you chuck your cell at the wall. She'd done what she could. It isn't her fault. It was that self-serving bastard that had you blacklisted from the only thing keeping you financially afloat. It is that that self-serving bastard that continues to occupy space inside your home, despite having no real right to it now.
The tantrum isn't near cathartic enough to unfetter you from your prison of aggravation, and you continue to take it out on everything in your near radius. Your duvet and pillows. The lotion you keep by your beside table. Your own skin, nails piercing into the soft flesh of your palms.
And especially the collar constricting your throat, like vines that tighten at the first sign of struggle.
You have to get this collar off. Even if you fail at everything else, you have to get this collar off.
Scrambling off your bed, you turn your room upside down looking for a bobby pin or a knife. One is unquestionably the safer bet, but you know you'll sit for hours trying to pick the lock that keeps you shackled – so when you find the boxcutter sitting at the bottom of your junk drawer, you immediately take it to your neck.
Just as Simon barges into your room.
You're so far gone, you don't even question how this must look to him. In fact, it doesn't occur to you that you locked your door, and that the only way he could've gotten in is by having a replica of your key. No. You merely twist away from the all-encompassing hold he wraps around your arms, determined to keep the boxcutter away from his confiscation until you can slice through the leather.
But you're crying. Visibly, alarmingly unstable. And Simon's breaths are a little faster than normal, faltering in a way they only do when he's close to climax. He must be worried, which is a funny thought, seeing as he's the reason you're in this mess.
"Alright thas– that's enough of that." He grunts after managing to pry the blade from your hand. You hardly mourn the loss, rather crumbling in on yourself as your sobbing escalates. No longer frustrated, nor determined. Just primed into a suffocating panic attack.
Somewhere in your auditory periphery, you hear the clinking of glass. It doesn't register until he holds a vial of lavender extract you keep under your nose, forcing you to inhale the medicinal aroma. Soon enough, your mouth opens to swallow gulps of unscented air alongside it, and the imposed breathing exercise calms you to a point of blubbering calm.
(For someone so apathetic, you admit he handled that expertly.)
That isn't the end of it, though. Moments later, you're lifted off your feet. He cradles you in both arms as he makes his way to your bed, sitting up against the headboard and placing you on his lap. Safe. Undisturbed.
You say nothing, pressing your wet face into his shirt. For comfort, first and foremost, but the makeup that'll undoubtedly stain the white fabric is an added bonus.
"Know this is hard for y'to understand, pup." Simon begins. "Hard for you ta wrap your head around ownership after bein' alone for s'long. I won't punish you for tha'."
"Y-You don't own me." You accuse.
He shakes his head in response, like your mind is truly as little as he claims. Like you're a dog, complete with two ears and a tail, and he plucked you off the street on the condition that you heel.
If anything, he's the stray.
"Oh, but I do." A large hand rubs circles on your back. Never have you been so conflicted, so torn between leaning in and biting back. "Just don't see it yet, pet. Bu' you will, in time. And in the meanwhile, we'll establish some ground rules to help you adjust."
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poisonlove · 2 days
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Wednesday Addams x F!Reader
• Reader is about to leave for work. Wednesday asks her if she's forgotten anything, and Reader gives her a kiss. Wednesday turns red and opens her hand to reveal Reader's keys/wallet/etc., saying
'I meant this, but it's appreciated.' Or smt like that!
forgetting something ?
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Pairing: Wednesday Addams X fem!reader
Words: 4k
Warning: fluffy
Author notes: I've received a lot of requests, I'll try to do them all!
Happy reading
"Love, what's the password for your phone?" I ask curiously as my eyes glance at the smartphone in my hand.
I found myself in Ophelia Hall in Wednesday's room with Enid, wanting to spend some time with my girlfriend. Enid was doing Things' manicure while sharing some gossip about some outcasts at school. Meanwhile, Wednesday Addams was making the most of her writing time.
Ignoring me.
The tapping of the keyboard abruptly ceases and Wednesday slowly turns towards me. Her brown eyes turn cold and dark as they meet Enid's, who visibly trembles in the face of that icy, penetrating intensity.
"Things, I'll finish later..." Enid whispers, her nervous smile betraying the fear inspired by Wednesday's gaze.
Without saying another word, Enid jumps up from her bed and hastily exits the room. The door slams behind her, resonating in the silent air as Wednesday watches her pass with an impassive expression, lips pressed in a subtle smile of satisfaction.
"How many times have I told you not to scare her?" I say with a small smile on my lips, and Wednesday looks at me without batting an eyelid.
"I didn't scare her," her voice is calm and controlled, without any hint of remorse or concern.
"You did," I sigh at her comment while absentmindedly playing with her phone.
"As you wish," Wednesday replies calmly, showing no particular emotion.
I smile shyly at her response.
"I told you not to use vulgar nicknames in front of others and you keep doing it," Wednesday justifies herself, looking at me curiously.
I raise an eyebrow in confusion.
"Vulgar?" I ask, feeling puzzled.
Wednesday nods timidly, without a hint of a smile on her lips.
I sigh loudly.
"Anyway... Could you tell me the password?" I ask again, wanting to change the subject to avoid ruining the atmosphere.
Wednesday tilts her head to the side and scrutinizes me with her gaze.
We've been together for a month, but I don't know if I'll ever get used to her quirks.
"My favorite plant" Wednesday replies in a monotone voice.
"Of course" I reply sarcastically as I type in 'Belladonna.' The phone unlocks, and I smile as I see the background: me and Wednesday embracing during the Poe Cup. The brunette had a stoic look while she look at me smile at the camera.
"Nice background," I say teasingly and Wednesday rolls her eyes at my comment.
"I know," she replies monotone.
I could see a small smile threatening to emerge at any moment.
"But don't you have any games?" I ask disappointedly, and Wednesday stares intensely at me.
"I barely use it to write to you," she justifies herself, and I nod understandably.
Wednesday and technology were two completely different things and couldn't fit in the same sentence.
"So you only have WhatsApp?" I ask curiously, looking at Wednesday.
"You're distracting me unnecessarily," Wednesday mutters annoyed by my questions. She turns her back on me and starts writing her story again.
"Thanks, Wed" I say sarcastically, and Wednesday continues to press the keys of the typewriter ignoring me.
"Why am I with her, I don't know," I mutter to myself, turning my gaze to her phone. I scroll through some pages and look at the apps.
I  choice YouTube.
"Because you love me," Wednesday replies loudly without looking at me "and anyway, I can hear you, be careful," she adds in a cold voice.
Was that a threat?
"Right" I reply aloud.
I start searching for what interests my girlfriend. Hundreds of horror stories and interviews of real murders, true photos, and thousands of hypotheses about monsters, unsolved murders, and much more.
Creepy but Wednesday's style.
"Y/n?" I raise my head from the phone and turn my attention to Wednesday who had once again interrupted her writing hour.
"Tell me, darling" I ask with a smile on my lips.
"Shouldn't you be going to work at the café?" Wednesday asks with curiosity.
My smile fades and I widen my eyes in realization: I had forgotten.
I quickly get up from the bed in a panic
"shit shit" I put on my shoes and look around the room in concern. "Where's the jacket?" I wonder, and I look around the room with worry. "You threw it on Enid's bed," Wednesday exclaims disapprovingly, and I smile hugely.
I internally thank Wednesday for her incredible memory.
I walk towards the door, but Wednesday's voice makes me stop.
"Forgetting something?" She asks seriously.
  I sigh at the unfortunate moment of being romantic. "You're right" I walk towards her and lean down towards her face to unite our lips in a sweet kiss.
As we separate, I notice that Wednesday's cheeks were completely flushed.
"You were forgetting the car keys, idiot," says Wednesday embarrassed, showing me the keys.
I had left them on her desk an hour ago when I arrived.
"Oh, thanks," I say embarrassed, and Wednesday smiles widely making my heart race a mile a minute.
"But I appreciated it" she confesses quickly and I smile back getting lost in her deep brown eyes.
Yes, definitely, now I remember why I'm with her.
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feluka · 18 hours
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"How many of you like have you ever been to Jerusalem? Raise your hand if you have ever been to Jerusalem. We have 60 students here, and we have one... two, probably three... That's that's very few of you! I've never been to Jerusalem. We're Palestinians; we live in Gaza; we can't go to Jerusalem because of the Israeli occupation.
But we love Jerusalem, right? [A chorus of students saying "yes".] We love Jerusalem because of what it means to us. We've never been there, but believe me, when you go there you will feel that you've been there hundreds of times. Because you read about Jerusalem in literature, in stories. Of course it doesn't mean that that's it, that we should take the Jerusalem that's in the stories and that's it, no.
But in literature, Jerusalem comes back to us. It's true that there is suffering; there is pain; there is occupation, and that's why Tamim Al-Barghouti, as a young Palestinian poet, I think is doing a great service to the Palestinian cause and the Palestinian struggle.
When you listen to him reciting his poem from Al-Quds, or other poems, he takes you to Jerusalem. You live in Jerusalem. He takes you back to it. You liberate it for just a little bit of time.
And if there is hope; if you can imagine a free Palestine, a free Jerusalem, probably you will work towards that, and the same thing applies to occupied Palestine. We've never been to other parts of Palestine because of the Israeli occupation, but we've been told so many times by our parents and our grandparents, especially our mothers, they've been telling us stories about Palestine in the past, the good old days, when Palestine was all beautiful, unoccupied, unraped.
Therefore, I say in in this case how our homeland turns into a story. In reality, we can't have it; we don't have it, but it can turn into poems, into literature, into stories, so our homeland turns into a story. We love our homeland because of the story. We love our homeland because of the story, and we love the story because it's about our homeland, and this connection is significant.
Israel wants to sever this relationship, for example between Palestinians and the land; Palestinians and Jerusalem, and other places and cities, and literature attaches us back - connects us strongly to Palestine, so in my thinking, this is a very significant thing that literature contributes to. Creating realities; making the impossible sound possible.
In real life, again because we are here in Palestine and Gaza, I'll be giving you examples from Palestinian and Arab literature so we can compare and make things clearer. We all know Fadwa Tuqan, the Palestinian poet - and please do not introduce her as Ibrahim Tuqan's sister, let's talk about her as Fadwa Tuqan and then somewhere else mention that, "by the way, Ibrahim Tuqan was her brother". Let's not throw her under the shadow of a man, even if it's her brother, who was a great poet, we can't deny that.
So this is Fadwa Tuqan, a Palestinian poet, 40 years ago or 50 years ago, writing poetry... Of course, we always fall into this trap of saying "she was arrested for just writing poetry!" We do this, even us believers in literature, "Why would Israel arrest somebody or put somebody under house arrest if she only wrote a poem?!"
So we contradict ourselves sometimes. We believe in the power of literature, changing life as a means of resistance, a means of fighting back and in the end we say, "She just wrote a poem!" We shouldn't be saying that.
Moshe Daya, an Israeli general, said that the poems of Fadwa Tuqan were like facing 20 enemy fighters. Wow.
She didn't throw stones; she didn't shoot at the invading Israeli military jeeps. She just wrote poetry. And I'm falling for that again, I'm saying "she just wrote poetry".
So this is what how Israel's dealing with Palestinian poets, and the same thing happened to Palestinian poet Dareen Tatour. She wrote poetry celebrating Palestinian struggle; encouraging Palestinians to resist, not to give up, to fight back. She was put under house arrest. She was sent to prison for years.
And therefore I end here with a very significant point. Don't forget that Palestine was first and foremost occupied in Zionist literature and Zionist poetry.
Palestine was presented as these things, I'll be mentioning some of them, but there's a contradiction here, there's a paradox always. "Palestine is a land without a people to our people without a land", "Palestine flows with milk and honey", "there's no one there, so let's go". We'll see how later on, how many even Jewish people were disappointed when they came to Palestine. Number one, there was no milk and honey, because "flowing with milk and honey" sounds like you're just going to be groping around, and milk and honey will be thrown at you - and there were people! There have always been people in Palestine.
The fact that Israel worked hard to ethnically cleanse Palestine, to kick Palestinians out, first and foremost in literature - yes, in politics and everything - shows how significant poetry is.
To sum up, Palestine was occupied metaphorically in the poem long before it was physically and militarily occupied in your life, so let's do the same. Let's fight back; let's restore Palestine in in our writings; in our poetry; in our stories."
-Professor Refaat Alareer explaining to his students the power of poetry as a means of resistance, and why the occupation targets poets, during one of his lectures at IUG.
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imwetforyourmom · 2 days
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Can you write a fluff about Matt x reader, and he invites her to film a video for his personal channel introducing the reader as his girlfriend to the fans and answering some questions about their relationship.
meet her
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warnings: fluff, swearing, kissing, just very slightly suggestive
a/n: y’all, be honest, does the cover photo match? green and brown? idk 😕
a/n 2: yall I dont have instagram and dont have any idea how the qhole questions thing works, so bare w me
~
“my girlfriend”
“hi everyone, welcome back.” matt says, looking at the camera, his lips parted as he thinks of what to say next and how he’d like the video to go. “as you know, i made a post the other week about having a girlfriend but didnt say who she was.” he spoke, taking in a deep breath to calm his nerves before continuing.
“i’d, uh, like to introduce you all to my-“ matt took in a sharp inhale, glancing over at his girlfriend, whom was silently encouraging him. “my girlfriend.” he finishes, grabbing his girlfriends hand and bringing her into frame.
“hi!! my name is y/n.” she says, waving at the camera, her voice enthusiastic with a grin on her face. y/n has been waiting to finally announce her and matt’s relationship. she’s been waiting patiently for matt to be ready, as much as she wanted to, she’d never do such a thing without his consent.
matt fidgeted with her fingers, a nervous smile on his face. he was ready to introduce the love of his life to the internet, he was always ready. he just wanted to make sure y/n and him would last long enough for it to be okay to tell everyone. he didnt want to show everyone his girlfriend just for them to break up a week later.
and he knew y/n would never leave him. he was sure of it, she’d proved it so many times before.
another thing he was nervous about, he didnt want anyone going and bashing his girlfriend, sending death threats or doxxing her. she meant so much to him and he didnt want to risk their love, the love he’d been desiring for years.
“we’ll be answering some of your questions.” he spoke up, clearing his throat and letting go of y/ns hand. he grabbed his phone from his pocket and went to his instagram, reading the answers of the ‘questions?’ thing he put up the other day.
y/n stared down at his phone, chewing on her cheeks in order to hide the growing grin on her face. she was just so excited.
“alright,” matt said, looking up from his phone and at the camera. “first question is,” he mumbled, his eyes scanning the letters. “how long have you been together for?”
“y/n and I have been together, for about, six or seven months now, I’d say?” he said, looking over to y/n for re-assurance.
“yep! best seven months of my life.” she replied in return, balancing onto one of her legs as she stood. her legs getting slightly tired. (she was still recovering from last night)
matt noticed this and pushed his chair out some so y/n could sit on his lap easily. he grabbed his phone and looked for anothe reasonable question. as he did so, he pat his lap, inviting y/n.
y/n took the offer and gently sat on him, leaning her back into his chest and her head on his shoulder. basking in the moment, sitting with her boyfriend and answering questions about their relationship. it was so nice and comforting.
“okay, another one says, ‘have you guys dropped the L bombs yet?’” he giggled, resting his chin on y/ns shoulder.
y/n giggled along with him, a big grin on her face. “yes, we have.” she answered, their giggles dying down as they read matts phone together.
“can I read a question?” y/n asked, leaning her head to the side some, resting her forehead onto matts neck to get a better look at his phone.
“sure” matt passed his phone over to her, wrapping his arms around her waist and folding his hands together on y/ns thighs.
“are you dating to marry or dating to play?” y/n spoke, her eyes widening as she realized.
matt looked over at her in surprise, a light scoff leaving his lips. “what? i’m dating to marry. why the fuck would I date to play?” he looked over at the camera, raising his eyebrows.
“I probably should proofread these questions first” y/n chuckled, her hand coming down to rest ontop of matts. gently rubbing his hand with her thumb, comforting and assuring him.
“dating to marry” y/n answered shortly, her voice trailing off as she was already scanning another question.
“alrighty, this question is good, good as in like, acceptable.” she mumbled, perking her head back up and looking at matt through the camera.
“has your girlfriend moved in?” she read, a small grin growing on her face.
“not yet, but im planning on moving in, in about a..?” she looked over to matt for an answer.
“a month or two. she needs to pack her apartment up and etc” he replied, a chuckle slipping past his lips.
“alright you guys, thats all for today. thanks for watching!” matt finished off the video, letting y/n wave bye before he grabbed the camera and screamed in the lens, hearing y/n fall into a fit of giggles.
895 words
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“Why’s she so rude?” (She’s Not)- Stereotypes, pt2
So I'm sure that you all thought I was going to give a blow-by-blow list of "visual stereotypes to avoid". I'm going to be honest here, I thought about it, and figured it would be redundant. My page already includes sensitivity on depicting Black people. So instead, I'm going to focus on stereotypical "character" concepts, so that you can 1) not write it in your stories and/or 2) recognize it in media (fiction and reality!) and in life!
Two major resources: the Jim Crow Museum website is an EXCELLENT resource to understand the imagery of antiblack racism in U.S. history and society. The other, White Tears, Brown Scars by Ruby Hamad. The book focuses on the many racist stereotypes projected onto women of color and how that purposeful, systemic negative perception of us bleeds into every aspect of our lives- specifically by white women/white feminists who believe that they are not contributing to said oppression.
I'll start with Black women, just because I’m passionate about it (obviously) and there are so many things I wish I had and hadn’t seen growing up. We deserve better by the year of our lord 2024.
TRIGGER WARNINGS: mention of sexual assault, assault
Misogynoir
What I want everyone to understand, before I get into this, is the concept of intersectionality, and more specifically, misogynoir. Misogynoir is the specific type of contempt and prejudice that Black women face at the intersection of race and gender. I say this because you might read these things and go “oh, as a woman, I experience these things!” I get it, but I want you to PAUSE, and remember, that right now, we are talking about Black women’s experiences. And those will often be different, due to that intersection of identities. And that understanding will have an effect on how you understand (and thus, write) those experiences.
The Jezebel
The link goes into much deeper detail, but the Jezebel is the idea that a Black woman or girl who is sexual is somehow “fast”, “salacious”, “a hoe”, “driven by desire/doesn’t understand purity”, and at its worst, unable to be r*ped/a victim because she is less valuable yet somehow inherently seductive to men.
This gets thrown around CONSTANTLY in media and life for Black women (my first experience of treated like I was ‘fast’ was when I was like… twelve?) One major, visible example is Megan Thee Stallion. Meg has a college degree, she likes anime, she’s a brilliant rapper, and has an entire personality and struggles she’s shared… But she also likes to dress scantily clad and have sex. By doing those things, she ‘lessened in value’. And because of this, when she was shot at and assaulted, even Black people questioned her character, rather than understanding that she could have been anyone, and she still wouldn’t have deserved to be assaulted. She's not allowed to be multi-faceted; she "brought it on herself".
Black girls and women who happen to take charge of their own sexuality, to the discomfort of society, are treated as Jezebels- as whores. Think about it- if one of Taylor Swift's recent boyfriends shot at her, would the media question her value or her word? Question her equivalently high ‘body count’?
Question how you write your Black woman- she can enjoy sex! She can be sexy! We love to see it! But if you're punishing her specifically, or judging her within the narrative, versus your other characters who are allowed to safely explore and act upon their sexuality… Check your judgment! Why do you feel the way you do about this character? Why do you think that your Black character is the one that should be judged for her actions. Would you feel this way if it were a nonblack character?
The Sapphire/Angry Black Woman
Ohohoho, I have infinite amounts of feelings about this one.
This is the "sassy Black friend", the "aggressive Black boss", “step on me angry mommy”, the one who does the z formation and makes everyone "uncomfortable". She’s not allowed to be confident, assertive, or self-assured- she’s arrogant, rude, and aggressive.
I discussed it in part one, but I'll reemphasize it: your Black woman doesn't have to be an ‘Angry Black Woman’ in order to be angry! Just like any other human being on the planet, we are allowed to be mad. (In my honest opinion, we have a lot to be mad about, but I digress 😅)
If the only character that ever gets angry is your Black character, I want you to consider why. What is she angry at? Was this something you wanted the reader to understand or empathize with? Are we supposed to disagree? How does everyone around her treat her anger? Is her anger righteous? Is she always shut down or dismissed for it? Is it only meant to defend her friends, but never herself? Does the narrative suggest that it’s only good in use of others and not herself? Would this be the same reaction if one of the nonblack characters was angry? Is this something you did on purpose?
Very often, we're called 'angry Black women/girls' to invalidate our emotions. My therapist once said anger is a protective emotion. We might be hurt, overstimulated, sad, depressed, frightened, anxious… But we are often not allowed the grace of others digging deeper to see that. Even if the other characters do not understand her anger, even if her motives are not meant to be understood at the moment… you as the writer should be aware. But if every time it’s time to show anger or upset, it’s your Black character… consider why this is the one you thought would best convey that message, and how your Black readers might feel seeing that this character (who may not even be the ‘bad guy’) is the one that is ‘only’ angry. No other development, no other emotions, just… there to be mad.
I take this one to heart, as someone who feels very passionately about things… this is one of those things where I wish, in life and in media, people would have more grace for Black women. We're human, too. We have feelings, too.
The Mammy
This one isn’t as visually blatant anymore in media as it was in the past (like every Mammy doesnt look like Aunt Jemima), but you may have seen this one as "the mommy figure". The "lesbian that parents the silly gay boys". The one that’s always encouraging the ship of the white boys, but never the one allowed to be in the ship (especially when her ship is canon!)
A good example of this was how people expected Jessica Drew from ATSV to be "more loving" to Gwen, rather than the mentor and boss she was (plus, as a Black woman with a Black mother… trust and believe, she was quite direct and gentle). And in comparison to her counterpart, white man Peter B. Parker, was decried far worse for similar detrimental actions.
The Mammy often serves in opposition to the Jezebel and Sapphire/Angry Black Woman. What makes the Mammy particularly annoying is that it implies that the only good Black woman character is a ‘nice’, demure, unthreatening, homely, motherly figure whose job it is to make sure to center the (usually) white ones. The Mammy is expected to coddle everyone, to her own detriment. She's a ‘good Black’ because she causes no issue, raises no fuss, never shows a negative feeling, knows that she has to ‘be strong’ but to always defer because the white characters know best. She’s ‘not a threat’, and that’s why she’s ‘allowed’ to be around. We shouldn’t have to be those things in order for our stories to be heard and understood, in order to be empathized with or treated like someone of value.
The Strong Black Woman
If I never hear this phrase again in my life, if we eradicate it from future generations for Black girls and women, I'll cry of joy lmao. I hate it, and it's not for the reasons most nonblack people would expect. Lord, this one. Anyway. The ‘strong Black woman’ is meant to protect everyone, no help needed! Whenever something is wrong and we all need a pickup, here she comes to ‘let me do it’ and everything is going to be okay! She did all the necessary suffering so that your characters don't have to! She can sweep in and save the day!
Now here's the dissonance kicks in. This one on its surface probably sounds like a good thing. She's a hero! She’s resilient! She's great! Who wouldn't want to be superwoman? Who wouldn't want to reject being a love interest, all women are always love interests! Let us be the badass that kicks ass and shows the men what for! Who wouldn’t want that, 24/7?!
The answer: US. 👍🏾🤣
This is a long, separate conversation on its own, but we have to understand that Black women (women of color, really) and White women do not always share the same end goals and understanding of "strong woman character" or even feminism. We certainly aren't always the love interest. Very usually not, in fact. We are always pushed to the side. We are already the hero in our lives, we're already the "strong woman".
Not everyone yearns to be the Singular Hero who will Fix It All as many of us are already expected to do. It's exhausting having to swallow your own needs for everyone else all the time, especially when it's suggested that you have no value otherwise if you don't. Heroism is Exhausting, and it's something worth looking into when you’re characterizing your Black girls and women. I’m not saying that we can’t be strong! We are, and it’s impressive! But I also want us to add some nuance to that strength, the way we would for any other character. What it means to have community, rather than to do it all alone. How even if she wants to be the hero (and that’s okay! That’s fine!) how it would still wear on her. Surrounding your Black girl character with unconditional support, to have a lover that actually wants to pull some weight- that's something many of us actually would like to see, because we're usually shafted to the side as 'someone who can do it all herself' (in order to hide that no one thinks we need or are deserving of the help).
It's okay to let your Black woman and girls show weakness, to rest, to be taken care of! It's not "less feminist" to accept that we're humans that need help and can't carry it all, too. That it’s okay to want to feel valued and protected. Because god knows, I wish I didn’t grow up strong and resilient, I wish I grew up knowing that the world cared that I was safe.
Standards of Beauty
These standards are not the same! I've mentioned it before in my lesson on skin tones, but very often when we think of "beauty", it’s easy to fall into the idea of whiteness. Pale skin, thin hair textures, etc. If those are our existing standards of beauty, then it doesn’t matter what any of us look like- we’re ugly! When I was in high school, I remember a classmate saying that Swedish people were the most beautiful people because of "white hair and pale skin". Without even meaning to, that guy basically said everyone darker than a stack of loose leaf printer paper was ugly by proxy of not being Nordic White (no matter how pretty they actually might be!!) 🤣
It’s also of note that whiteness/paleness tends to be connected with innocence and cleanliness in western culture, while blackness/darkness tends to be considered dirty, sinful, fearful. Now, while the origin of this idea may not be racist itself, when you spend hundreds of years implying that Blackness is bad- to the point that, in the U.S. they came up with an entire slur one step past “negro” (meaning ‘Black’) to deem you less than- it’s hard to say that the societal connotation didn’t apply.
Now we've already discussed working on describing our Black characters better! I continually remind you all that you should be describing them as wonderfully made as you do your white characters. Keep in mind that we live in a world where from day one when we enter the world, Blackness and Black features are not seen as beautiful nor emphasized. Whiteness is the standard of beauty that we, for a long time and still, are expected to adhere to. If you'd like to do better by your characters, remember that you don't have to give them "white features" or use "white" as an adjective to do that!
Black Women as Women
“There was literally nothing, not a thing, that a white woman could ever have that was worth more than her sexual virtue, and this obligated mandatory chasteness and sexual vulnerability… If the most important thing a woman has is virtue, and only white women can have virtue, then by definition, only white women can be women.” Ruby Hamad, ‘Only White Women Can Be Damsels’, White Tears, Brown Scars
Often, Black women by definition are not included under the societal banner of “women”, from our features, to our personalities, to our 'role' in life. "True Womanhood" is denied us, cis and trans, because of our Blackness. The things that make women ‘women’, we are not included under, because systemically, the only ‘women’ that were meant to mean anything were white.
I bring up Megan Thee Stallion again. Meg is probably one of the most beautiful, feminine women I've ever seen in my life. Men still call her a man, due to her height, due to her confidence, and due to their insecurities. Same with Serena Williams; Serena is damn near built like a god in my eyes. She was told she was manly from the beginning of her career, no matter how beyond skilled she was in women's tennis. Even when she damn near died giving birth- the most basic of 'tasks' women are seen as having in this society, it didn't matter. Black women are 'less womanly', 'less valuable', 'less in need' of that protection and identity that society swears Women™ need (and not in the honest way that we do need protection).
Consider that you're making sure that your Black women have the options of range of gender expression and emotions (and if they aren't allowed to, is that on purpose). If you're only ever creating us and we're in service of some dainty white woman and never the other way around... consider how that may reflect what you think our role is in your story, and in your mind.
Adultification
“Awkward moment when Rue is some black girl and not the innocent blond girl you imagine.” twitter: sw4q
It has been shown that Black girls the same age as their white girl counterparts are deemed older and less in need of protection, and supposed to 'be more mature'. Imagine that. Deemed inherently less innocent, due to your skin color. Having to parent our siblings, get jobs to contribute, do all the cleaning, and more. Yet, when we act with the maturity that we've been forced to grow into, we're "fast". A little 12-year-old girl, now to society, the Jezebel. All because she wanted to try pink lip gloss or wear a skirt; things that little tween girls might try to understand the big world around them and push boundaries. Now she's a woman, now she can never be a victim. Now she can be beat on and hurt and it's her fault.
I explain this for two reasons: One, for you to think about how your write your Black girls, and Two, for you to hold more grace for Black girls- real and fake. Do you hold her to a higher standard than your white characters of similar age? Does she inherently seem less innocent to you for reasons outside the plot? Is she as human to you as your other characters? Is she allowed to be a child? To act like one? To make mistakes? Are you as empathetic or understanding about that childishness as you are towards nonblack characters? Do you make these decisions on purpose?
It's not like Black girls can never be YA protags or anything- ofc we can. But keep in mind that she's not somehow automatically "stronger" by proxy of her Blackness, that she'd "be tougher". She's a kid. Let her be one.
Conclusion
There’s a LOT you have to consider when writing Black girls and women. I’m not going to sit here and say it’s easy, because being Black, and being a Black woman, is not easy. If you’re stressed reading it, imagine being stressed living it lmao. It’s a constant chain of quick-time events every day of your life to prevent nonblack nuclear meltdown in response to your every single action. I’m not going to apologize for it, either.
That being said, I don’t expect you to understand everything, especially not all at once. I just want you all to keep these things in mind, to question yourself when you’re writing your character- are you treating her differently on purpose? Or are you treating her differently because of a bias you might not even notice you have? It might help to go back, to read how you treat all of your characters. Or, if you’ve never written before, to maybe outline the traits of your characters and figure out where things balance out. As always, all you can do is practice at it. Because it's the thought that counts, but the action that delivers.
Whew, I'm actually emotionally strained after this one. My chest is beating fast. Let me go get some groceries now.
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enwoso · 20 hours
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You have somehow managed to make me fall in love with this little universe you created with grumpy and Alessia in such a short amount of time!
Would you be able to write something about when the England squad first found about Alessia having a child and how they handled that on camp and stuff? I feel like there would be quite a lot of protectiveness, especially considering how she's part of the younger group, particulalry from some of the older age groups, like Lucy, Leah, Ellen, Jill, Jordan, Millie ect.
MINI ME — alessia russo x child!reader
*oh my god i love writing this little universe!*
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alessia had never imagined that she'd be a mother at such a young age. she had always dreamt of having a baby at the end of her footballing career while being in a stable relationship, living in a comfortable environment with little to no stress allowing her to enjoy motherhood. the total fairytale fantasy.
however that fairytale fantasy never became a reality as alessia fell pregnant at 20 while in university, after one too many drinks and night with a boy she did trust enough but clearly trusted too much as after she took a test and the two lines displayed on the test telling her she was going to be a mother — he left? he didn't want that type of responsibility at such a young age.
when alessia moved back to england and signed for manchester united she kept you hidden from her teammates worried about what they may say or think, ella being the only one who knew about you. after all she would sometimes look after you when mummy had important adult things to do or pick you up from nursery when mummy couldn’t.
"y/n? where've you gone?" she whisper yelled, looking around the foyer. you were in that toddler stage of hiding at any chance you got, putting your mum on the verge of a heart attack everytime you went out places.
"this isn't the time to play hide a seek lovie!" alessia said, a slight sterner tone in her voice as she looked around for you.
"boo!" you giggled, coming out from your hiding spot from behind the large indoor plants, looking up at your mum a devilish smile on your small face. a pointed look on your mums face as she kneeled down, grabbing your two small hands in hers.
"lovie, what have i told you about hiding, especially when we are in a new place. what if i had of walked away? you would have lost me" alessia reminded you softly as you nodded, your smile that was previously on your face replaced with a pout.
engulfing your mum in a hug, "sorry mummy" you mumbled into her chest as she kissed your forehead.
"i didn't know you had a little sister?" a voice was heard from a distant as alessia handed her passports over to the staff members, getting her room key. the blonde looking around to see who it was before her eyes landed on mille bright, lucy and leah.
alessia could feel her cheeks going redder by the second, as she stood up picking you up with her and placing you on her hip. the blonde beginning to stutter out a a response however you beat her to it with your innocent smile covering you face.
"that my mummy! i no have a sister!" you smiled at the three girls, their eyes almost popping out their head as you spoke. shock consuming them as their jaws hung to the floor.
"oh my god" lucy whispered as she was the first to break the awkward silence. alessia setting you back down on the floor as you were wriggling to be down.
"this is y/n, my daughter" alessia sighed, there being a slight silence as the information was being processed by the three girls head as you walked a little closer to the three girls, leah being the first to react by crouching down to your height. "hi y/n! i'm leah" you smiled nodding at her name looking to the other two girls standing in front of you.
“i’m lucy”
“and i’m millie”
you said a small hi to them as you moved back a little so that you were standing near to your mum, an arm wrapped around her leg. “and how old are you?” leah asked as you hummed thinking as you held up four fingers, “three!”
the girls giggling a little at your confidence, your mummy putting your extra finger down and correcting you, “lovie that’s three”
“ah”
“you play football with my mummy?” you asked, looking at leah but directing your question at all three of the girls. as they nodded all in sync.
“we do and there’s a few more of us too” millie said as you looked back to alessia wondering if she was telling the truth as your mum nodded her head as a little gasp came from you.
“where they?”
“through that long corridor, getting ready for a training session later on” lucy commented pointing to the way before you turned to your mum begging her to let you to go and see everyone else.
your mummy nodding as you grabbed her hand, swinging it a little as you followed the three girls you had just met just moments ago.
“auntie ella!” you yelled as you brushed past lucy and leah as they stood in the doorway, running to get to ella as she looked up from her phone, a smile cracking on her face as her arms opened up for you to run into. faces stopping and watching the interaction with both adoration and confusion.
“hey tiny, you alright!” ella asked as you hugged the girl tight, you hadn’t seen her since the last manchester united game a week ago. your mummy having being busy with getting ready for camp and you being at nursery up until yesterday.
“yep, i met lucy, leah and mille” you proudly said pointing to each girl as they had sat down at a table beginning to talk most likely about boring adult things.
“oh that’s exciting, what about everyone else though?” ella said as you began to shake your head stopping moments later as the midfielder began to twirl the two of you around, giggles escaping from you as she did so. stopping when she got back to her original place.
you looking around the room, a few familiar faces that you had recognised from your mum playing with them in manchester seeing them when you went to games with your grandparents — mary, keets and lotte who you only ever saw if you were down in london. the rest were new people, new people to talk to and share you infectious personality with.
ella took you around each person introducing you to each person with the permission from your mum first of course. the news spreading quickly throughout the camp that you were here and whose daughter you actually were much to many’s surprise.
the day going a lot smoother than alessia could have ever imagined, she had spent the past week thinking over and over about how it was going to go. replaying over and over in her head about how her teammates would react to her having a child.
alessia spent a good part of the afternoon after the introductions were over in the garden of st george’s park explaining her story in depth to those who were most interested; leah, keira, beth, lucy, mille, rachel and ella.
“that must have been so scary, you were so young.” beth whsipers still loud enough for everyone to hear, the girls all so intrigued but also immensely proud of alessia for her whole journey since you had arrived in her life.
as alessia told her story from the start, how she found out she was pregnant to how she came back to football.
“it was, but she’s my reason now. everything i do is for her future” alessia said simply a couple of the girls humming.
“if you ever need anything and i mean anything even if it’s just for someone to talk to, don’t be scared to ask any of us. we’ll always be here for you less” leah said softly but you could hear the protectiveness in her voice, alessia nodding taking in the support of her teammates which had grown to be her family as her eyes trailed over to where you were, the other girls following where the blondes eyes were looking.
“she’s literally a mini you” beth commented the rest of the girls agreeing as they began to list the similarities between you and your mum. as alessia smiled looking at you kicking a football with jordan and georgia
“i know, my mum says all the times that’s she’s a copy and paste of me from when i was little - only difference is she’s a bit more chatty than i was” alessia pointed out, hearing you talk away to jordan about the flowers growing in the ground, as the midfielder picked the ball from around them.
“but i think she gets that from her auntie ella!” alessia grinned looking towards her best friend who threw her hands up in shock.
“hey!”
“mummy! mummy!” you yelled out, the blondes head turning from her conversation towards you as jordan passed the ball to you. “watch this!” you added as toy had the ball at your feet and began to juggle with it from foot to foot.
alessia watched on grinning, as jordan counted the amount you got as georgia cheered you on. a small buzz of excitement coming from you as the ball dropped from your control as you ran over to your mum.
“lovie, that was awesome!” mummy cheered, as she held her hand up for you high five. the other girls saying there well dones. alessia watching as you smile got bigger and bigger with each seconds.
the way you had bonded with the team in hours warmed alessia’s heart to no end. knowing that these girls were going to now be apart of your life forever. her two worlds had joined and she couldn’t even to describe how much she loved it.
“any chance we can borrow her when we play on tuesday!” jordan joked as she and georgia came over slotting in on the seats with the other girls as they laughed but agreeing. as they all fell into a deep conversation.
you climbing up onto your mummy’s lap, as her arms wrapped around your front. a yawn escaping from your lips as you slumped back into your mummy’s chest playing with the rings on her fingers.
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alessia new day, new faces🩷
comments -
bethmead dibs on being best auntie!
1h 140 likes     reply
-> leahwilliamson no i am
-> georgiastanway no it’s me
-> lucybronze come on guys i obviously win!
-> ellatoone it’s quite clearly me!
-> millebright you all wrong it’s me.
-> maryearps it’s me
-> keirawalsh no me
-> racheldaly its obviously me!
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gallusrostromegalus · 21 hours
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My drawing skills suck are very unpracticed but I have a mighty need to create fanart of the garbage tarot. I don't even know anything about the source material but I am in love with these idiots.
Actually... I do a lot more mixed-media than I do drawing........... Hmm...
As a Completely Unrelated Thought, what do you think Zaraki's handwriting would look like?
I'm glad you asked because there's na specific answer for AEIWAM fic! Zaraki!
(Note: in AEIWAM, Kakiyo was Tousen's adopted sister, not an unrequited crush, and she raised money to go to the academy by working as a travelling schoolteacher for a while)
---
The first time Yamamoto gets a report from Zaraki, it genuinely throws him for a loop. Its a thorough if somewhat gruesome report about the 11th dealing with a pack of hollows that had been attacking isolated villages. Nothing Yamamoto was not already used to, but reading descriptions of mutilated villagers is somehow more unsettling when the descriptions look like this:
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(a stylistic example)
Yamamoto takes him to task next meeting.
(continued under the cut)
"I know you're still learning the job Zaraki, but you can't foist your paperwork off on Miss Kusajishi." Yamamoto growls.
"I... Didn't? What?" Zaraki looks extremely confused, but the Captain-General is not fooled.
"You mean to tell me THIS is your handwriting?" Yamamoto snaps, throwing the report on the table, sheets spilling out as it slid down the length of it, so everyone could see the bizarre cutesy hand it was written in.
Zaraki's face darkened, jaw clenched. "Yeah. What about it? You goin' blind as well as senile?" He growled.
"THIS IS THE HANDWRITING OF A LITTLE GIRL, ZARAKI, DO YOU HAVE THE SAME HANDWRITING AS YOUR DAUGHTER?" Yamamoto slammed his hand on the table, temperature sharply increasing around him.
Zaraki began to arch his back and crackle with Reiatsu as well, but was stopped by loud ringing chime and a hand on his arm.
Yamamoto blinked in surprise to see Tousen, of all people , holding the giant back. There was a click as Tousen fully re-sheathed his sword. Suzumushi's chime wouldn't effect either of them, but it redirected their attention very effectively.
"My apologies, Yamamoto-sama." He bowed his head before turning his ear up at Zaraki. "Kakiyo wrote about this to me. You could only afford for one of you to receive schooling, right?"
Zaraki huffed and shook himself before answering. "Yeah, I was a broke-ass bastard before this." He grumbled, scratching his neck in a de-escalation feature. "Yer sister was a fuckin' saint and a genius. Neither of you have any business tellin' the whole world though."
"I think it was an exceptionally brave and difficult thing you did." Tousen shrugged. "Even when she used that method, less than one in a hundred parents actually stuck to it, much less achieved what you have."
Zaraki started looking everywhere but at Tousen, thinking. "... wouldn't call it brave, it was just makin' sure she was doin' good in school." He muttered.
Tousen kept listening intently at Zaraki. May I tell Yamamoto-sama so he doesn't cause another scene?"
"You're going to tell me what you're muttering about whether you like it or not." Yamamoto menaced.
"My sister taught Zaraki-taicho and Miss Kusajishi how to read and write." Kaname sighed and took off his goggles to rub the bridge of his nose. "It's extremely common in the Rukongai to have to teach children whose parents have never had any kind of schooling. Many of the parents would like to go to school too, but can only afford to send their children- actually , usually only one child. It's not usually an issue of money, but time- the parents can't afford to miss fishing season, or spare any siblings because they're needed on the farm. But, when you have a parent who is as attentive and caring as Zaraki-"
"Tttch!" Zaraki huffed at Kaname, who pointedly ignored him.
"-You can get around the schooling fees and scheduling problems by telling the student that their homework is to teach their parents what they learned in school that day. The homework you give the students is for their parents to do after they pass the lesson on and grade them on how well they taught their family." Kaname explained, putting his goggles back on. "Kakiyo was in awe of Miss Kusajishi's dedication to teaching you, and immensely proud of your efforts."
Zaraki still refused to look at Tousen, but his ears were bright red.
"...ohhh." Ukitake realized. "Wow, that's... I thought it was impossible to learn how after a certain age, that's - well, I don't think it's something I could have done!"
"What?" Glared Yamamoto.
"Zaraki-taicho and Miss Kusajishi have the same handwriting because he learned how to read and write by learning her school lessons from her." Unohana translated. "-An exceptionally difficult way to learn, and commendable for even trying." She continued, arching an eyebrow at him as a warning.
"Yeah and with all due respect Yama-ji? You're not exactly in a position to be complaining about anyone else's handwriting-" added Shunsui. "Zaraki's handwriting is odd, but it's perfectly legible. Nanao-chan framed your last memo because she thought it was an abstract painting."
Yamamoto turned to Shunsui with an aggravated glare.
"I'm afraid I have to second Kyoraku-taicho." Tousen said, without an ounce of chagrin in his voice. "The kido spell on my glasses can translate nearly everyone's hand, but the only person in the ninth who can read your memos to me is third-seat Maegawa, and mostly because she's had several centuries practice."
"Wait, we were supposed to be getting memos?" Mayuri squawked. "Dammit! I thought that squiggly garbage was the fax machine breaking every other week! I disassembled that thing three times trying to fix it!"
"You can all shut up now." Yamamoto snarled, and everyone did, but there were still a lot of pointed looks around the table, and Unohana's eyebrow had not resumed it's usual curvature yet. "Please consider my complaint withdrawn."
Unohana's eyebrow arched further and she cracked her eye open to reveal a coal-black iris, going from Warning to Threat.
"...My apologies, Zaraki-taicho. That was. Inconsiderate of me." Yamamoto muttered.
"Ya gonna shut up about it now?" Zaraki asked, not quite facing Yamamoto, but back still arched.
"I will hold my judgment in check in the future." Yamamoto acquiesced, watching him.
"Sure." Zaraki grunted, shaking his shoulders to drop the subject. "Right, what the fuck were we doing?" He asked, returning to the agenda.
---
After the meeting, Tousen took a minute to stand in the late afternoon sun, exhaling and releasing the tension of the day, when someone grabbed one shoulder and plopped something heavy on the other.
"Yeh didn't have to do that." Zaraki grunted just behind Tousen's ear, his forehead resting on the small man's shoulder, half gratitude, half grumble.
"One of the responsibilities of a captain is to keep the general in check, and I had a particularly good opening to stop that nonsense for good." Kaname hummed, hand reflexively coming up to touch the giant's head on his shoulder, fingertips tracing over the scarred visage and peculiar hairstyle.
"Didn't read that in the employee handbook." Zaraki grunted, grin in his voice.
"Yamamoto wrote those handbooks, and he'd rather we let him do as he pleases. You have to learn how to read between the lines, Zaraki." Kaname teased.
Zaraki gave his strange, low clicking chuckle of amusement and affectionately mock-bit Kaname's ear before standing up, still holding his other shoulder.
"...Thanks. " he muttered, giving his arm a squeeze and stepping away. "Gotta go pick up Sensei, you talk to her if you think I need more tutoring!" Zaraki waved, striding off to collect Yachiru in completely the opposite direction from her school.
"ITS THE OTHER- oh, he'll figure it out." Kaname sighed.
The sun was low in the sky, but it was still warm, and the first Cricket of summer started chirping, startling him. Suzumushi chirped with it, singing her mournful loss of her original wielder, but not so despairing this time.
"Kaname?" Sajin asked, heard before he was felt as usual. The lieutenant's meeting must have wrapped up late.
Kaname smiled and put a finger up, indicating he should listen. Sajin did, helmet tipping slightly to hear.
"Crickets!" Sajin realized, and offered Kaname his gauntlets hand to lead him home. "...I miss Kakiyo too." He sighed.
"You're not really gone if some part of you lives on in someone else." Kaname hummed. "I realized she is not so far gone today."
"Oh?" Sajin asked. "Where does she live on?"
"Have you read any of Zaraki-taocho's reports yet?" Kaname grinned. "His hand is not his hand alone."
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yuorumi · 2 days
Text
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─ when annoyances turn to comprehension
dr. ratio's vexation in being friends with a fool in love.
note. gender neutral reader & inspired by @/genshinarchives. be warned that I have not yet caught up with the quest so they might be a little ooc but if it works it works. unedited.
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dr. ratio's just about had it with you.
no, you weren't one of ailing students who couldn't comprehend his brilliant and meticulous lectures on things many couldn't decipher heads or tails of unless they've had his guidance. and even then, the amount of students who would reluctantly approach him after class is a number far greater than he'd like for there to be.
you were not a coworker either, getting on his last nerves just as he was about to retire for the night and soak up a long needed bath (aeon knows just how much he's depending on that just to make it through the next day) and asking him questions that make him ponder why they were even a teacher at all.
no, dr. ratio's never even met you.
however, from the stories he's heard about you from the insane gambler, he's had just about enough information to write an entire encyclopedia about every single detail in your life and over. things like your usual routine, what you like for breakfast, what snacks you pick up from the store and the adorable habits you seem to have when you're just sitting around breathing.
for once, the luminous genius finds himself cursing his ability to remember things down to the last detail and growing overly concerned over the fact his eyes might actually roll to the back of his head from doing it so many times. the number of migraines you induce on him when he doesn't even know what you look like is a figure he doesn't bother to keep count of anymore.
ratio swears that when he's in the presence of the blond there's a guarantee he's going to hear your name from his lips at least thrice. anything and everything can remind aventurine of you, apparently.
they could be talking about chalk or the most complicated mathematics to mankind and he'd still hear your name.
"... fools I tell you! I've given everything they need to solve such a simple problem and they still can't even begin to comprehend it! "
"speaking of problems, I wonder if [name]'s managed to find a way to get their computer fixed yet..." cue yet another eye roll.
by now he's sure that you and aventurine had to be dating, there's just no other explanation for his infatuation and his need to bring your presence everywhere with him. but when he found out that you two weren't, he was left momentarily stumped.
"tell me, should I go this shade of green or this purple? "
"I don't know why you're asking me such a question when you already have a lover to answer them for you."
"... we aren't dating, doctor."
"... what? "
ratio's never been more confused in his entire life than in that moment.
and when aventurine finally has the gal to introduce you to him, he finds that perhaps the information he has about you stored somewhere within in vast brain might come in handy after all.
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liveontelevision · 2 days
Note
I saw someone do headcanons on Lucifer and I know you'd write it perfectly. They basically said that if you were to ignore him, he'd practically BEG and WHINE like a bitch to have you talk to him. Even if it's telling him he's pathetic. As long as he hears your voice.
Ofc don't feel pressured to do this if you're busy or anything else, Ily🫶🏻🫶🏻 keep up the great work! :]
OKAY MORE SMUT (seriously, mdni 18+)
Sorry this one took forever but I'm prettyyy sure it's worth it. Let's just say this is Lucifer discovering some new things about himself :D
And ILY THANKS FOR THE REQUEST BBG
Ignorance is Bliss | Lucifer x Reader
♡♡♡
Becoming comfortable with the King of Hell as his partner was easy. He made sure to cater to all your needs and give you everything you asked for. Overall, Lucifer was a sweetheart and a gentleman. And this was especially the case in bed. Considering his immense powers, he was giddy to fulfill any of your fantasies you'd have, no matter how bizarre. After being with him for long enough, fantasies dissolved into curiosities. Some nights became spicing things up in the bedroom in ways that you'd never consider, just to see how much you could handle. Now? you wanted to see how much he could handle.
Neither of you were comfortable with bringing intimacy to the public, not without proper care, at least. But what if you could work him up in a way only you knew about? Tease him throughout the day? How desperate could you make him without touching him? You couldn't recall where you picked up this idea, maybe somewhere online at some point. Knowing how deeply devoted he was to you, he was sure to hold a great reaction to this.
You were together when the hotel was renovated, so it was an easy transition for you. Everyone already aware of your relationship and loving you in turn made your afterlife seem like less of a punishment.
His top priority was your comfort when you both moved. He made sure to be close to you in group settings, keeping a hand on you at almost all times. Whether that be a hand on your thigh or the small of your back, or simply having his fingers intertwined in yours, it felt like a relief for both of you.
But with this little act you were pulling, you would lean away from his touch, and make excuses to disappear for the afternoon. Or in the halls, where he'd usually greet you with a quick kiss or I love you, you'd pull out your phone as you approached him, or simply smiled with your eyes barely looking his direction. He would swear, if anyone asked, that this wasn't bugging him one bit. Not. At. All. You were all his at the end of the day, you could treat him however you want and he'd submit. He's fine. He's acting fine.
When it came to the hotel, there weren't many demons jumping at the chance of redemption in the beginning, so some nights turned into drinks, games, and music. You felt so incredibly lucky to be a part of this family, your eyes scanning across the room and taking in just the pure enjoyment of everyone around you. The center of it all tonight was Lucifer. He was going on about some fantastical story that involved a circus in some other ring of Hell, that then evolved into sharing baby photos of Charlie. His eyes always sparkled when he would talk about his daughter. You loved her too, of course, but your heart always fluttered when his admiration would show.
Still, you had that little experiment to play with tonight. As Lucifer went on about his stories, either entertaining demons with their content or his ridiculous retellings, everyone was drawn in. Not to mention, he was drunk and was acting like a fool, so he was even entertaining Alastor. With one foot on the barstool and the other propped on the counter, he acted out some ridiculous story that you paid no mind to. In fact, you made it a point to not react to anything, despite how intense he was becoming. You'd look down at your phone as he spoke. Or you'd start some random conversation with Husk, who really could care less, but he at least responded to you.
Keeping your eyes off of him was a challenge, but you could tell he was trying to get your attention when he'd brag about something. With no response, he would stutter mid-sentence, then change the topic after not getting the reaction he wanted out of you. With each ignorant glance, he took a swig of his drink.
He was seated after that, being scolded for scuffing the tables with his heels. That's when the ridiculous jokes began. You loved his jokes! You could listen to them all day, even laughing when he told you the same joke over and over. But not tonight, you had to remind yourself. You bit your tongue and sucked in your lips to hide any smile or laughter that might pass through. Still avoiding looking in his direction entirely, Lucifer was suddenly silenced. You looked up at him through half lidded eyes, then back down to your screen, mindlessly scrolling through essentially nothing. Charlie was quick to distract him with a story, he was nodding along and smiling as best he could for her. The party dwindled, leaving you, Lucifer and Husk.
“I-uh.. think our royal highness has had enough. You should take him to bed, kid.” Husk finally draws your attention to Lucifer, who has laid his head on the countertop, incoherently mumbling. You sigh and nod, taking his drink from his hand and rising to your feet. Just barely touching his shoulder, he immediately straightens his posture.
“Good call, kitty!” He had a habit of calling Husk that when he wasn't entirely there, it made both of you cringe, “Bedtime, my love?” He takes a hold of your hand in both of his and you have to remind yourself this is just for fun. The endgame has to be worth it. You pull away, already walking through the portal he had created when he was talking. He looked at you as you stood in your shared room, still seated at the bar. Finally turning, you sigh and place your hands on your hips.
“C’mon, Lucifer.” You said absentmindedly, using a beckoning finger to draw him in. He eagerly jumped from his seat following you in, even with his chest aching. You didn't normally use his name. Usually it was darling, or my love, or good boy if he was acting accordingly. He takes a hold of your arm as the portal shuts, pressing a kiss to your knuckles, then running small pecks along the length of your arm, stopping at the start of your shoulder. You let out a small, almost nervous sounding chuckle, before reeling back.
“Didn't see you around the hotel today, darling. Did you do anything fun?” Lucifer sways as he speaks. Maybe small talk would help? He was trying his hardest to act casual and keep a clear conscience considering how much alcohol he’s had at this point. You shake your head, pulling your top off. You decide to sort through your clothes long enough to let Lucifer catch the sight of you bent at the hips, rummaging through a dresser drawer while topless. You could hear him gulp. He starts the same way, but struggles with the buttons on his vest.
“L-love, I might need-” his intoxication is clear in his voice at this point. After throwing on some sort of silky slip, you sigh and turn your attention to him. Looking down and fiddling with the buttons, he begins to lose his balance and finds himself leaning against a wall for stability. You approach him silently, and easily undo each of his buttons. You'd be lying if this alone wasn't making your stomach flutter. Even then, it was easy to keep your cool after seeing that he was clearly enjoying this too much. You notice his labored breathing as he braces his arms against the wall, allowing you to run your hands across his bare chest and slipping his shirt and vest to the ground with some maneuvering. You keep your hands at his hips for a moment, he lifted his pelvis away from the wall, maybe hoping for some kind of friction. You were lingering barely an inch away from his lips. Hearing the smallest whimper seemed to remind you of your mission, so you quickly pulled away.
“Good night, Lucifer~” just that sentence alone sent him spinning. Your lips so close to him and your voice so smooth, he was beginning to enjoy the sound of his name in your mouth.
More. He needs more.
As you crawled under the covers, you made it a point to hum and moan as you stretched and settled in. Pulling your phone back up to your face, you barely had time to look at anything before a clawed hand had slowly pushed your device down, revealing a very red-faced Lucifer.
“Is something wrong, love? Can I.. help you?” He was genuinely worried. You almost felt guilty at that moment. With a final sigh, you set your phone aside and cupped his hot to the touch cheek in your hand. He immediately let the weight of his head fall into your hands, humming contently at the long overdue contact. Still, you shake your head in response to him, keeping your lips sealed. His lip finally starts to quiver and he lets out a shaky breath.
“Please, I need your voice, love.. I miss it- I miss you.” He almost breaks you, so you decide to reward him for this display at least. You silently press a kiss against his eager lips. He's ready to pull you in and ravish you with that alone, he’d do anything to hear your voice. You pull away. He tries making connections in his foggy mind, tracing through the past few days to see if there was anything he might’ve done for you to be this cruel to him. He can't think of any wrong doings, but.. he'll do anything.
“P-please? darling?” He stammers out, continuing to crawl towards you and sitting prettily on your lap. The view itself drove you mad. You could keep your lips sealed, but you couldn't prevent the blush becoming apparent across your cheeks. He hums, satisfied with this reaction at least.
“I don't know what's going on with you, but.. I love you.” Oh, shit. “.. I love you~” He repeats.
You keep your eyes away from him. This one was a struggle.
“T-That’s fine, don't tell me about your day.. o-or laugh at my jokes, but, darling-” he turns your head to face him, a hand lightly bringing you forward by your chin, you notice his eyes glowing. “I love you.”
Fine.
“I love you, too.” You said it quietly, a hint of defeat in your tone. He immediately perks up, shifting his grasp on your chin to thumb at your jaw, nearly encompassing your throat with his hand. Closing the already very small gap between your lips, he eagerly explores your mouth with his forked tongue. You yelp into his lips in surprise, before pushing him away carefully, seeing how much of a mess you've made him from just that phrase.
“Lucifer, that wasn't very nice, was it? You have to ask.” You said sternly, sitting up to rest your back on the headboard and pulling him with you to keep him seated on your thighs.
“W-Wha.. Ask? To kiss you? Well that seems.. rather…” He questions with a nervous laughter, waiting for the punchline. You only nod your head in agreement.
“Well.. can I kiss you, then..?” He asks awkwardly. It was cute enough, But this wasn't your original vision.
“Mmmm- no.” Making a big show out of tapping your chin and letting your eyes wander around the room, you finally look back at him.
“What? Oh- um.. please?” He clarifies, a now nervous smile present on his face.
“Please, what?” You start running your hands across his abdomen, letting them interlock behind his back and pulling him just a bit closer.
“C-can I kiss you.. please..?” You thought he'd be agitated at this point, but his voice is dripping with desperation. He likes it. You see his hips shifting just above your thighs.
“Hm. Maybe.. I just don't think you want it enough, my love.” You say sweetly, pouting as if you felt any remorse. You ran your hands up his chest, then back down his sides, brushing your fingers just slightly below his belt. He huffs.
“Sweetheart! I-I do want it! please..? I want you, p-please..” He finally moans out, panting heavily only from your hands along his bare skin. You couldn't help but smile, and finally give him what he wants. With a gentle kiss onto his lips, it's clear that he's shaking with anticipation. He wasn't jumping you like before or taking the lead to suffice his own desires. It's as if he was waiting for permission. You weren't going to give in that easily, though.
You pulled away after that single kiss, looking at him like you had just asked a question and were waiting for a proper response. Finally catching his breath, he braces himself up by keeping his hands on your shoulders. He looks at you with the sweetest puppy eyes, shifting his weight on his knees to ease the growing discomfort pressed in his pants.
“More, my love.. I need more- I-I need you to-” He's still rambling. You hum, letting the hand that had been sitting on his hip palm at the bulge in his pants. You learn forward, pressing your lips against his skin and running your tongue up his neck. He shivers, the sudden sensations after being ignored for so long already forces a pathetic sound from him, music to your ears. Your kisses become sloppy, and your little nips will surely bruise and shine by the next morning.
“I-I want- ahh~” He’s keeping up with it? You thought for sure this little game of yours had ended. You won and you're giving him the attention he finally needs, yet he's still begging for you? “talk to me.. darling-” he chokes out, moving his hands that had been tightly gripping your shoulders to cup your cheeks. You were pulled back by his touch, a slightly shocked expression on your face. “Please.” His eyes were brimming with tears. A single line of golden blood and saliva dripped from his mouth from biting a little too hard on his lip, in an attempt to keep his noises at bay. You moved your hands away from his buldge, which had accumulated a wet spot onto his trousers, then went back to trailing your fingers across his skin again.
“Okay.” You respond. He perks up at your acceptance, the little sparkle in his eyes brings a smile to your face. “Since you asked so nicely.” you said sweetly, “So.. how badly did you miss me? Only a few days like this and you’re already a mess.. did you miss our little conversations? My voice?” You question softly, brushing your thumb across his cheek to wipe away some stressed tears that had fallen. He nods, holding onto your hand and burying his cheek into your palm.
“-My touch?” You massage his hip, letting your hand drift closer to the clasps on his pants. He nodded again, much more eagerly this time. “Hm. Good.” with one final kiss to his lips, you push him to the side, swapping your positions, to where you were hovering over him with your arms caging him in. He barely has time to process the quick switch, before feeling your hands tug his pants. He's moaning at the sensation alone, holding onto whatever he could find, gripping your wrist in one hand and balling up the sheets in his other.
You linger above him, your lips just above his. You could feel him panting heavily against you, even before touching him. You'd normally be passionately entangled at this point, But here, you got the chance to see his face. You were enjoying taking your time with this one.
“You're being such a good boy for me.. you're doing so well.” Your eyes flutter shut to capture him in another heavy kiss, and you reach unto his pants, planning to slowly relieve his stress. A sudden request leaves his mouth, stopping you for a moment.
“N-no..! Nono.. love, my name. Use my name- please..” He's shaking his head, finally mustering the courage to make his request. Another new development. God, he was perfect. You move to his jaw, pressing kisses up to his ear before breathing heavily against it.
“Lucifer-” you finally say. He lets out a pathetic whimper, clamping his grip down onto your wrist and bucking his hips into your sudden, yet tantalizingly slow, palming. “You're doing so good for me, Lucifer. My Lucifer. My sweet, Luci~” you mutter into his skin, beginning to pump your hand a bit faster. He is doing so good for you, afterall, he deserves it.
This wasn't the only game you wanted to play tonight. you wanted to fully take care of your poor neglected king after all you've put him through. After toying with him for long enough, edging him from release each time, you finally let him rest. You pull away, after bringing him to the brink and tearing him away each time, you were reveling in his pretty tears. All the senses you were enrapturing suddenly put to a halt, forced him to look at you desperately. You fully dismount him, leaving him nude under your gaze. Slightly embarrassed, he pulls his legs together. You rest your hands gently on the top of knees.
“I’ll need both tonight, Luci.” You say casually. This was something you've tried before, and it was definitely due for a second round. You felt he needed the extra love. He nodded, his face completely heating up. walking your fingers across his legs and helping him take his trousers completely off, you were treated with the pretty sight of his already soaked pussy, that sat quite nicely below his already overstimulated cock. The combination of his two sexes was enough to drive a whimper even from you. You quickly dip down, your own desperation meeting his. After bringing him to the brink beforehand but not letting him finish, it wasn't long before he was squirming and whimpering under your touch.
Even with all that, he was still begging you for more. Drunk off his juices already, you ran your tongue up from his folds, flicking at his clit, then sending a heated trail right up to the head of his cock. he arches his back into the full exposure, and you have to keep your hands on his thighs to keep his legs from shutting. The agonizing moans and gasps he was letting out only made you want to hear more. Hastily pushing three fingers into his entrance, his voice cracked out some resemblance of your name. He doesn't use his other sex often, so when you get the chance to eat your fill, he's almost always struggling to keep any composure. pumping his cock in one hand, you skillfully pump and curl your fingers into him with the other, all the while maneuvering your tongue and lips to suction onto his clit.
“Mm-! I-I can't- ahha- take… anymore- m-mmy love-” He's stammering. You pull away for a moment to let out a single phrase,
“What do you say, Lucifer?” Before continuing your brutal overstimulation. Only hearing more whimpers, you slowed your motions, waiting for a proper response. You only speed up your movements, after keeping your thumb lightly pressed against the top of his head.
“P-Please-” he shoots his head back into the pillows, his legs already shaking. “Please, can I-I-” You hum against him, sending a mild vibration that still made a big impact, before lifting your thumb just slightly.
“You may, Lucifer.” You run your tongue across his entirety again, enclosing his cock into your mouth and taking in his final thrusts.
Still whimpering and gasping, you continue to bob your head, moving slow circles across his clit, and causing his body to fully tremor beneath you.
You finally sit up, enjoying the view beneath you, while wiping away anything that you didn't manage to already swallow. Even with his eyes closed from the pure exhaustion, he's muttering your name under his breath. You still don't know how you managed to get this lucky, so you appreciate his drunken appearance for a moment longer before cleaning him up and eventually settling him under the covers. You hold him tight to your chest, your limbs intertwined. Even with immense angelic power, he returns your embrace weakly, with shaky arms.
“I love you, Lucifer.” You hum, pressing a kiss onto his forehead while brushing some hair from his face. He's still catching his breath, “Luci-” you say just as sweetly. He barely opens his eyes to meet your gaze, still silent. With a gentle grip on his chin, you pull him upwards to fully face you. “I love you~” You repeat.
“Mmn- love you.. dear…” He grumbles, still clearly dazed from the events of the night. Running your thumb along his lower lip, you muffle his tired moan with a kiss, before letting him rest his chin comfortably against your chest. You’d say your little experiment was a success. And you're sure Lucifer learned a lesson along the way; He has to ask for what he wants.
♡♡♡
Hope you like intersex lucifer bc I recently discovered I LOVE INTERSEX LUCIFER
More requests and the next part to Suffer is comin' up soon 🫶
!Taglist!
( @vififofum / @thornwolfy235 / @tinywolfiegirl / @chipper-chip / @bat-boness / @misfitgirlwrites / @nayomi247 / @lonelynmisunderstood / @escapistoftherealworld / @b4ts1e / @hamthepan / @kyo-kyo1 / @looking1016 / @polytheatrix / @littledolly2345 / @lillianastuff / @yourlocalcryptidbee /@0strawberrysorbet0 / @themageofblood / @jayyyayaysblog / @floralsightings / @azmosposts / @8har0ley8 / @actuallyspiderwoman / @sirenetheblogger / @christineblood / @kaytemchugh / @cimadreamer / @simpdevil66 / @azmosposts / @m3ow1 / @acrazyartist / @redfoxwritesstuff / @4k1to / @meesachan / @corvusskid / @alientee /@xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx / @alon3lylov3r /@sapphireravensworld / @mjmdragons / @catticora )
164 notes · View notes
garfunklefield · 2 days
Note
HIII❤️can you write sukuna x reader with narcolepsy🙏
I’m Gon’ Talk You Thru It!
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18+ viewer discretion is advised
Fem!reader/Ryomen Sukuna Warnings: established relationship, soft sukuna, consensual somnophilia, oral sex [female receiving], vaginal sex, creampie, this isn't realistic at all IM SORRY Word count: 1594 DESC: Your boyfriend battles your narcolepsy!
This was such a creative ask, thanks!!
The first time it happened, he genuinely thought you died. You’d think being in a committed two-month relationship would make you apt to tell your boyfriend you had narcolepsy, but it slipped your mind. Ryomen just sat there momentarily as you drifted to sleep, first thinking you were joking. Then he called your name, then again, then again. You didn’t wake up. He grabbed your shoulders and prepared to drag you to the ER himself when you let out a breath and began to snore. Oh. You didn’t die. Still, you confused and scared that man half to death. After doing one Google search he concluded everyone just falls asleep mid-sentence at some point in their life, right?
Once you did wake up though, you told him about it. You didn’t give him many details just, that you fall asleep sometimes and it’s tough to wake you from that kind of sleep. Sukuna didn’t have many questions, which brings us to the current picture. 
Your boyfriend was balls-deep in your wetness, sending mewls of pleasure from your opened mouth. He was pounding you with no sense of how rough he was, giving you all he had. It was hot and sticky. His cock clung to your walls, getting stuck from how you clenched around him. He fucked you good, but never like this. Something was different. Maybe it was that small little skirt you wore or that new perfume. But Ryomen couldn’t keep his hands off of you. He groaned into your ear, hips thrusting against your own. 
His hands were groping any part of you that he could grab, while yours were scratching against his back, “R-Ryo..” You whined, leaning your head back, “F-mm sh..shit.. F-fuck.. I’m gonna…” You dragged out the last syllable, bringing your face closer to his. He could see the pleasure building in your features and he loved pleasing you like that. He was the only one who could fuck you this good. 
You had met Ryomen Sukuna at college, he was on your track team. The two of you never spoke, until you were paired for a partner race. He was notorious for being loud and menacing, which he was. You tried to switch out with your coach, but he wouldn’t let you. So, you stuck it out. In doing so, you got to know him better and saw Ryomen wasn’t that scary, once you peeled some layers back. He was competitive, a fire lighting inside him when you won the last half of the race. His cheers were loud and they made you realize he wasn’t too bad. Maybe that’s why you gave him your number, and maybe you developed feelings. It was slow, but your relationship grew strong. 
The only thing was, in being with him for a few months, your narcolepsy had never interfered with your sex life. You were on medicine, so your fainting spells happened rarely. But today, you had been more tired than normal. You didn’t say no when Ryomen initiated, even when you started to feel one coming on. 
Your grip tightened on his shoulders, “I’m.. I..” But then your eyes rolled back and you laid limply against the bed. It took your boyfriend a moment to register you had fallen asleep, or more like passed out, underneath him. 
He slowed his thrusts to a stop and slowly leaned back, resting on his knees, dick deep inside your pussy, “Hm.” The man just sat there for a moment, debating exactly what the hell to do. 
You had told him what to do in case this had ever happened, but he wasn’t sure. Yeah, he was a scary big man, but he wouldn’t go past your boundaries. Typically, he’d ask before ever laying a finger on your lovely form, that’s why consensual somnophilia took him a second to get adjusted to. You told him it was okay, in fact, you encouraged it. He had your word it would be okay, but he still hesitated. It took Ryomen another minute of debating before he sighed and got back into position, laying his front against you and thrusting into your pussy. Still wet, aching for him. You were tight, clenching around his cock as he slowly pushed himself in. Warm, sticky, perfect. He let out an involuntary moan and ground his hips to the sensation of your cunt swallowing him whole. 
“F-fuck,” he whispered, “Mm..” His voice was gruff against the squelches from your pussy. You lay there, mouth slightly open as he fucked into you. You looked so pretty and helpless, lying there without moving. Ryomen trailed his right hand up to your cheek, cupping it gently. He was never the type to be vulnerable, or even gentle, especially when it came to sex. But, the way you just took it, laid there, it elicited something deep within him. A fire, something burning in his stomach. Your back arched to the sensation as he hit your pretty G-spot. He knew how to fuck you so well, making your body react without you even being aware. 
Defenseless. Helpless. That’s what you were in that moment. And Ryomen had never felt more connected to you. Something about feeling you, holding you close, making you pleasured even when you were unconscious, it was hot. He could feel your body reacting, almost in a primal and instinctual way. That’s what was beginning to send him over the edge. His jaw clenched, teeth grinding as he began to feel himself fall apart. You didn’t wake up, not even when he came into you, thrusting in spurts of cum from his tip. You moaned, mouth opening to make a small O-shape before it closed and you let out a small snore. 
Sukuna continued to push into you, longing his orgasm as much as he possibly could. Once it was done, and all he could do was feel a tickling sensitivity down his shaft, he pulled out. You were still asleep. One part of him was offended he didn’t fuck you good enough that you’d wake up, but the other was thrilled. He could continue to do things to your body until you woke, maybe even mid-orgasm if he was good enough. He liked that control, being able to touch you in any way he wanted. However, he only stayed within the bounds of what you two had agreed on. 
Your boyfriend pulled out, groaning at the sensation. Typically, he’d wait and let his cum seep out of your tight hole, then eat you out. But the fire was still burning hot. Besides, he didn’t mind the taste of his cum. Ryomen knelt, face to face with your pretty pussy. One hand hovered over your clit, while the other spread apart your folds. His mouth connected with your cunt and he could taste himself on his cum. It seeped into his mouth and rolled along his tongue, his tongue that flicked around your cunt. You inhaled sharply and groaned softly, moving your hips to the sensation. Unsuspecting and totally aroused. 
One of his fingers lightly rubbed on your clitoris, making your moans louder. You were being so good for him, it was making him strain against the bed. His hips started to rut into the mattress, giving Sukuna some sort of stimulation. Your gasps and light whines were doing things to him that they hadn’t done before. Maybe it was the fact you couldn’t control how your body reacted to the pleasure, or the fact it was his pleasure that was making you sound so cute. Either way, he could tell you were becoming close. Your breaths got quicker, your moans louder, and your hips ground harder. 
“Ry..Ryom..” You suddenly spoke, causing him to tilt his head to look at him. Your eyes were hazy, sleep-riddled, and your smile was lazy, “Aw.. b-baby..” You cooed, a small hand running through his hair. He could have melted right there, you were so pretty, even with messy hair. He pulled back from your cunt and assaulted his lips with yours. You gasped and caved into the kiss, wrapping arms around his neck to press him in against you. Two tongues collided, followed by some teeth. Saliva pooled at the corners of your mouths as he licked into you. Needing you. Wanting you so bad it was starting to hurt. 
“Let me,” he broke away from the kiss, “Put it in..” Sukuna’s voice was gruff and low, spilling into your ears like honey. You nodded, pulling his lips back in. It felt so good as they molded against each other, breaking apart for air and then delving right back in. His rough hand slid down your front and grabbed his swollen dick, pressing the tip to your throbbing pussy. You wanted to cum so much and on his dick. You were teased, poked, and prodded, aching for release.
Ryomen thrust into you, causing a whimper to escape your lips, “Pe..perfect,” you gaped, trying not to make too much noise. It felt so good, how his big log rubbed against your insides and made your tummy bulge. 
Even if it had just been a few months, you loved him and he loved you. Although, you hadn’t said it yet. Would now be a good time to say it? Ryomen was really debating it as he buried his cock into your warmth. But the seconds slipped into minutes and he didn’t say a word, letting the room be filled by your pathetic moans. 
You two really needed to do this more often.
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likeumeanit9497 · 3 days
Text
yale pt. 2 | c.s |
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chris sturniolo x fem!reader
read part one here!
summary: to commit or not to commit; what will chris and y/n decide? and how will they prove to one another that their mutual decision was the right one?
warnings: smut, oral (m/f receiving), hand stuff (m/f), p in v, unprotected sex (BAD), more fluff than i usually write, 18+
notes: again i'm sorry ab the wait but part two is finally finished! it's a bit longer than my past one shots (almost 6000 words eek) because there's a lottttt of fluff before the smut. i hope ya'll enjoy!!!
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Two out of my three final exams were finished, and I was about ready to throw in the towel on my last one of the week. It was Thursday, and tomorrow was my Biology II final, which had been the one that had been stressing me out the most. As soon as I had got back to my small one-bedroom apartment that day, I had buried my nose in my textbooks in an attempt at cramming some last-minute miracle study session into my day.
That was around 3:00, and as I walked into my kitchen to make myself my fourth cup of coffee for the day, the clock on my stove read 9:26. I wanted to cry from exhaustion. Yale finals were no joke, and I had to do well on all of my exams in order to keep my scholarship for next year. On top of the stress caused by all of that, I was having an even more difficult time because my brain had been consumed by something else. Every moment of every day — whether I was trying to get some rest at night or trying to focus on answering the questions correctly on an exam — I was thinking about the last time I had seen Chris.
It had been less than a week, but my mind had replayed every moment of our time together so many times that it had begun feeling like a dream. That, in addition to the lack of proper rest I had been getting, had made me genuinely begin to question whether or not I had imagined everything that he had said before I ran out on him.
I hadn’t heard anything from Chris since then, which really wasn’t that uncommon. We typically only texted when I was back in Boston and we could meet up, and he knew that I would be busy with my finals this week and wouldn’t be back until tomorrow. But regardless of how usual the lack of communication was, I couldn’t help but feel like there was a mutual tension between us even from miles away; and the shortage of interactions between us just felt like confirmation of that.
Since the last time we spoke, I had felt nearly every emotion possible regarding the situation. Guilty, happy, sad, angry, hurt, disappointed, excited, and confused. Very, very confused. There had been so many times where, as I was studying, or showering, or walking to class, I became completely consumed by the urge to text him; sometimes with the intention of telling him that I feel the same way about him as he does about me, other times my intentions were to cuss him out for making the one thing that was easy in my life so complicated. But every time I opened my phone and began typing out a message to him, I got ahold of myself and would hurriedly delete the paragraph.
Frustrated and lost in my own mind once again, I leaned onto the kitchen counter and rested my forehead against my crossed arms. The last thing that I wanted to do was go back to my desk and continue studying, but I knew that I needed to spend at least a few more hours on it if I wanted to secure at least a 90%. But my eyes were beginning to grow heavy, and the cool sensation that came from leaning on my counter was helping me calm down. Maybe I could stay here and collect my thoughts for just a few more minutes…
Four loud knocks at my front door caused my eyes to shoot open. I felt disoriented as I took a moment to take in my surroundings, glancing quickly at the clock I realized that I must have somehow dozed off in my position at the counter. Three more knocks rumbled through my small apartment, these ones more urgent than the last. As my brain finally woke up completely, I was hit with a mini wave of rage. Brad was in the same Biology II class as I was. He must be trying to study for the exam super last minute, and when he realized that he hadn’t even started taking study notes, he decided to show up unannounced at my place to get his hands on mine. It certainly wouldn’t have been the first time.
I stormed toward my front door, beside myself in fury and stress. As I unlocked the door and began turning the handle, I opened my mouth to begin my crazed rant.
“Brad I swear to God I’m not-” My mouth clamped shut and I froze once the door was completely open and the identity of the person on the other side was shown.
“Hi.” Was all he said, his voice tentative and wavering slightly. His bright blue eyes were filled with uncertainty, his slouched shoulders were covered in a light dusting of snow, and held by his hands in the space between us was a bouquet of sunflowers.
“Chris.” His name fell breathlessly from my lips, and I immediately walked toward him and embraced him in a relieving hug. I felt both of our bodies relax as soon as they connected, and we stood in my doorway for what could have been hours; both of us taking a moment to relish in the comfort that came from us finally seeing one another. “What are you doing here?” I finally asked, pulling back from him and taking a good look at his beautiful face. He shifted on his feet before responding, “I just needed to see you.”
His body language showed that he was feeling incredibly vulnerable. I wanted to do everything I could to reassure him, but not yet; it was too soon. So instead, I guided him into my apartment and closed the door behind us.
“So,” I began as he stood awkwardly in my kitchen, “Have you just decided to start carrying those around as some sort of fashion statement or what?” I gestured towards the flowers still gripped firmly in his hand. He blinked quickly before looking down at them as if he had forgotten they were there, and nervously giggled. “No. Uh, I brought these for you?” His voice rose at the end of his sentence, making it sound like a question and I let out a small laugh before gently removing them from his grasp. “I was joking, thank you for these. Sunflowers are my favourite.” I replied before turning my back to him to search through my kitchen cabinets for a vase. “I know they are.” He said in a quiet voice, and I turned back to look at him quickly.
“How’d you know that?” I kept my tone light, partially because I felt like it might make him more comfortable and partially to keep my nerves at bay. “Your lock screen on your phone. It’s of you and your friends in a sunflower field. I asked you about the picture that first time we met when you went to put my number in your phone and you told me that they were your all-time favourite flower, even though you thought they were a bit cliche.” He explained all of this to me while looking down at his feet, and I felt a ripple of shock travel down my spine. How did he remember that seemingly mundane part of our very first interaction, eight months ago?
I cleared my throat as I felt my emotions begin to get the best of me, and finally found a vase hidden deep in one of my cabinets. “Well I do love them,” I finally responded once I regained control over myself, “And look at how beautiful they are! The brighten up my entire kitchen.” I showed him the bouquet, now tucked into their vase, and felt my heart flutter at their vibrancy. “Thank you so much, Chris. I mean it.” I walked over to where he was standing beside my kitchen island, and wrapped my arms around his neck. I playfully brushed my nose against his a few times, before planting a light kiss on his lips. “You have a very good memory.” I added, before moving my lips to his jaw, down to his neck; leaving wet thank-you kisses along the way. His breath hitched once I reached his collarbone, where I spent extra time suckling his delicate skin.
I brought a hand down to his jeans, where I palmed at his semi-hard member. His hands stayed still at his sides, but I could feel his increasing pulse against my lips as I moved them painfully slow back up to his. When my lips made it back to his, I pressed my body against him in an attempt at deepening our movements. His hands finally moved to grab onto my waist, giving me a moment of satisfaction, before he used his new grip to pull me away slightly. “Y/n, wait,” He started, his gaze fixed on me, “I’ve really been needing to talk about last weekend.” My stomach sunk as I began to feel the too-familiar pit of anxiety that had been haunting me for days grow once more. Not wanting him to pick up on how terrified I was to have this conversation, I planted a faux smile on my face and gave him a quick nod. “Me too. Let’s sit.” I replied before walking over to my couch.
“So…” I began once we were both seated on the couch facing each other. Even though I had spent days mulling over every detail of what I might possibly say to Chris once this inevitable conversation happened, I really had no idea how to go about this. And by the unusual silence and bouncing leg coming from Chris’s side of the couch, it was pretty evident that he didn’t know how to either.
“I thought we had agreed that this conversation wouldn’t happen until after I had written all of my finals.” I finally got the courage to speak first, before immediately noticing that my tone came across pretty passive aggressive. “I just mean — sorry, Chris. I’ve just been really stressed out.” I attempted to correct my first sentence once I noticed that his face was riddled with anxiety. Placing a soft hand on his forearm, I continued, “I just mean I’ve been really needing to talk to you, too.” A nervous smile flashed across his face at my words, and I watched as he took a deep breath. “You have?” His tone sounded unsure, and I nodded firmly. “I haven’t been able to think about anything else.” I added, slightly embarrassed by my own admission. “Neither have I.” He added, turning his body slightly so he can face me better.
“I know I told you that I would wait until after you were finished your exams, and I really tried. But I’ve been going crazy these past few days and I really couldn’t wait anymore. I’m sorry.” He confessed, and I scooted closer to his place on the couch. “Don’t be. Trust me, I’ve felt so crazy these past few days too. I’ve gone through every possible emotion whenever I thought about the whole situation, it’s like I can’t get control over my mind. It’s been hell.” I reassured him with the truth.
“Well, how are you feeling about the whole thing?” He asked tentatively, as if he was afraid of my answer. I allowed myself to contemplate for a few moments before answering, so that I could say the right thing. “Well, at first I was scared. It was just so out of the blue Chris, and my brain couldn’t process it all.” I watched him watch me as I spoke, “Then, I felt really angry. I was so mad that after all of this time you decided to drop that bomb of a confession right before I had to start my most stressful week of the year. That, along with the simple fact that I am in a relationship, no matter how toxic, and you went and made things even more complicated.” His gaze dropped to the dead space between us, clearly having a difficult time hearing how upset I had been.
“But,” His eyes met mine again as I continued, “I almost felt relieved? Like, it kind of felt like this was how it was always supposed to end up, if that makes sense. It was like some part of me knew that the universe was planning something like this to happen in a way, and that all of our sneaking around was just the build up.” I felt my heart in my throat as I spoke of feelings that I hadn’t even known I was feeling before; shocked by my own confession. By the expression on his face, I could tell that he was just as confused.
“Wait, what?” Said Chris, his eyes widening slightly. I stared back at him in silence, terrified that I might have said too much and gotten this whole thing wrong. Oh God, what if he came here to back out of what he had said last week? What if his jealousy had just overpowered him in the moment, and he was here to backtrack. Even more, what if he was here to end things between us completely? I began to feel myself panic at all of the thoughts flying through my head at rapid speed, before he finally spoke.
“Are you — are you saying that you might want this too?” Chris asked, his voice one of hesitant optimism. Immediately, I felt my initial wave of dread vanish and a new, almost excited anxiety take its place. I bent forward, resting my arms on my knees, and groaned into my hands at the feeling. “I…do.” I finally said, my voice muffled by the concealment of my face behind my fingers.
The room stayed silent for what felt like forever, my last words sat heavy in the air between us. I was so anxious I couldn’t bear to look anywhere, so I scrunched my eyes tightly shut and made every attempt at calming my nerves.
“Come here.”
Chris’s voice was so soft and calm — a refreshing contrast to the racing thoughts in my own mind — that it caused my eyes to snap open and fall on him. He still looked a bit nervous, but the genuine smile that shone across his face allowed me to release the deep breath that I wasn’t even aware I was holding. I scooted even closer to him, and he immediately wrapped his arms around me. With my head tucked into his neck, I breathed him in; allowing my nervous system a moment to relax.
“We’re really doing this then?” I finally asked as he rubbed gentle circles on my back. He let out a soft chuckle. “Looks like it.” I pulled away from his embrace and brushed his hair out of his beautiful face. “I’m gonna have to end things with Brad tomorrow after our Biology final.” I sighed, dreading the inevitable conversation that was I was sure would be made more difficult by Brad and his disrespect. However, Chris’s pleased expression brought me some joy, because at the end of the day he was who I really wanted.
Feeling like I was on cloud nine, I wrapped my arms around Chris’s neck and pulled him in for a kiss. Right as my lips barely grazed his, however, he mumbled something and pulled back. “No,” he began, shaking his head firmly. “We gotta do this right. Things are different now and we’re not just sneaking around, so it feels wrong to just kiss you behind everyone’s back like we had to before. Take your exam, have a conversation with Brad, and then we can start from the beginning.”
My jaw physically dropped, shocked at the maturity of Chris’s words. I wish he wasn’t but I knew that he was right. Now that we were headed in the direction of something more serious, it would be so much more meaningful to wait until all of the wrinkles of our situation had been ironed out. I gave him a smile and nodded softly, letting him know that he was right.
“So, how did you get here?” I asked, stretching my arms behind my head to work the kinks out of my sore back. “Matt dropped me off. I had to offer to do the laundry for a full month for it though.” I laughed at his response, but was also touched by the idea as I knew that Chris despised laundry more than anything. “Jesus, no kidding, that’s a long drive just to turn right back around and go back to Boston.”
“Well, no. He should still be downstairs. I told him to wait outside for a while just in case things didn’t go so well up here.” He rubbed his neck awkwardly at this fact, but I understood what he meant. “Well, if you want you can tell him to head back and you can spend the night here. I was already planning on heading back home tomorrow night so I can just take you with me.” I offered, glancing quickly at him through my eyelashes as I did to gauge his reaction. Immediately, a smile flashed across his face and he shot up from the couch as if he had been hoping I would say that. “I’m down. Let me just run to his car and grab by duffel bag.” I laughed at his reaction, and the fact that he had clearly intended on staying the night if he played his cards right.
Before walking to the door, he leaned over my figure and planted a quick kiss on the top of my head. “I’ll be right back. Maybe once I grab my stuff I can quiz you for your exam or some shit. Don’t want you to not be prepared tomorrow just because I’m here.” My heard fluttered from the sensation of his lips on my skin in combination with his thoughtful words, and I had to fight the urge to pull his face to mine. Tomorrow couldn’t come fast enough.
Once I finally made it back to my apartment, I slammed the front door shut and slid against it down to the floor. I ran my hands through my snow-covered hair as I tried to catch my breath and wrap my head around what I had just done.
I finally broke up with Brad.
As suspected, he didn’t take it well. To be honest, it had been a bad choice of mine to do it as we were walking towards the exit of the exam building, but I hadn’t expected him to break down into tears and get down on his knees in front of countless other students and professors, begging me to reconsider. I could still hear the echos of his wails as I literally ran away through the double exit doors of the building, and I continued to run as fast as I could until I reached the lobby of my apartment complex.
And now here I was, feeling everything all at once and trying to make sense of all that has happened over the past twenty four hours. As I mulled through everything, the sound of my shower turning on caught my attention. In all of my stress from writing my exam to breaking up with Brad, I had nearly forgotten what all of it was for.
Chris.
I stood up and slowly walked towards the bathroom. Putting my ear against the door, I smiled as I listened to him quietly sing along to a Ken Carson song playing from his phone as he showered. Checking the door knob, I realized that he had left it unlocked and I decided to enter the humid washroom. The room had already begun to fill up with steam, but I could still see Chris’s back through the glass shower door. He was facing away from me, and the music was loud so he clearly had no clue that I was there.
Quickly and quietly, I began to take off my clothes from the day; keeping my eyes on him the entire time to make sure he still hadn’t noticed my presence. Once fully unclothed, I took my hair out of my messy bun and began walking towards the shower. Standing at the glass now, I brought my knuckles against the cool surface and gently knocked.
At my knocking, Chris’s body jolted and he quickly turned his body to face me. When he saw that it was just me standing there, his body visibly relaxed and a smile crossed his lips. “Hey.” He said as his eyes travelled across my naked body. “Hey.” I returned as I opened the shower door and began climbing in. I stood in front of his naked figure, the stream of water from the shower head beginning to mist my hair.
“Did you talk to him?” Asked Chris, his eyes searching my face; clearly trying to gauge my expression. I tilted my head to the side and smirked slightly. “I did.” He continued to just stare, his bare chest rising and falling rapidly. “I ended it.” I added, causing a smile to immediately cross his face. “So we’re really doing this, huh?” Chris asked as he brought his hands to my hips, pulling my body towards him directly under the shower head. Now getting completely rained on, I squeezed my eyes shut and chuckled. “What, you getting cold feet already kid?” I asked jokingly, opening my eyes to look at him and standing on my tip toes so that I could bring my face closer to his.
“No, obviously not, it’s just,” He paused when I brushed my wet lips against his softly, before whispering, “It’s just a bit scary.” I brought my hands to the back of his head, where I mindlessly twirled my fingers through his curls. “What’s scary?” My hushed tone now matched his as I spoke. “I’ve just never been in a relationship before, and I don’t want to screw anything up. I’m really really out of my realm here Y/n.” He confessed, his tone somber and his eyes fearful.
I grabbed my bottom lip with my teeth, completely understanding what he was saying but not wanting to unintentionally confirm his fears by agreeing. So instead, I wrapped my arms around his waist and held him against me. After a moment of relishing in the feeling of his skin pressed firmly against mine, feeling our hearts beat as one, I spoke.
“Let me show you that you don’t need to be scared of anything.” I gazed up at him as he looked down at me, and after a short while he nodded his head. Rubbing his back delicately, I spoke. “Things aren’t going to be much different, you know,” I began placing soft kisses along his collarbone, “Sure we won’t be sneaking around,” More kisses along his shoulder, “And there will be a certain level of accountability and loyalty that wasn’t there before,” My mouth moved to his jaw, “But those are all good things because,” Finally, my lips were hovering in front of his, so close to touching that I could feel his anxious breath against them.
“They mean that I’m all yours.”
At that, Chris crashed his lips against mine. Our mouths moved in sync as his tongue swirled against mine. I gasped as Chris suddenly pressed my back against the cool tiled wall where he continued to dominate my mouth. I felt his quickly growing member press against my hip, and reached forward to begin stroking it slowly. A soft moan fell from his mouth, and I began to move my hand up and down quicker along his hard shaft. He bucked his hips slightly at the sensation, and moved his lips to leave deep kisses along my neck, down to my nipples. He gave my left nipple one long drag with his tongue before engulfing the entire thing in his mouth. He sucked hard and bit tenderly on the tip of my nipple the way he knew I liked, and I couldn’t help but release a small whine at the building need in between my legs.
“Let me make you feel good.” Chris mumbled against my tit, grabbing my ass firmly with both hands. “Me first.” I replied, a smirk on my face with his cock still tight in my grasp. Slowly, I dropped to my knees on the shower floor and was face to face with his swollen cock. Gazing at me as water dripped down his entire body, Chris watched as I placed my lips around his red tip; swirling my tongue to lap up the salty pre cum that had begun to drip from his slit. I watched his erotic expressions as his body shuddered from the sensation, and slowly began bobbing my head up and down the length of his cock. I began pumping my hand along his last few inches that I couldn’t fit in my mouth, and had to stifle my own anticipatory moan from how turned on I had made myself just by knowing that it was my mouth that was allowing him to feel this pleasure.
Not being able to take the painfully aroused state I was in, I brought my free hand between my own legs; gently massaging my own clit to relieve just a bit of the tension. The immediate satisfaction caused me to moan on Chris’s cock, which in turn caused him to press his hand against the shower wall to support his weakened frame. As he watched me pleasure both of us, his jaw slacked and his eyes glazed over with pure lust. I continued to vigorously bob my head, though I was beginning to get distracted by my own heightened arousal as my fingers maintained their pressure on my swollen clit. As tears welled in my eyes I swallowed the entire length of his shaft and began deep throating him, watching his face as his eyes squeezed shut and his free hand moved to grab my hair.
“Fuck baby, I might cum.” His words came out gravelly through his bright pink lips, and I hummed in response as I continued to swirl my tongue around the base of his dick. Suddenly, Chris released a throaty moan before pulling his hips back and detaching my lips from his member with a pop. Instinctually, I tilted my head up and opened my mouth; sticking my tongue out with a slight smirk. I watched as Chris pumped his cock with his own hand a few times before his warm fluid coated my expectant face. I quickly swallowed the few drops that had landed in my mouth, and smiled softly up at Chris as he watched. He brought his thumb to my lower lip and swiped delicately; collecting a drop of his cum that had landed there before placing it on my tongue. Tauntingly, I closed my lips around his thumb and sucked it gently as his breath hitched.
He took his thumb out of my mouth and helped me to my feet. Wrapping an arm around the small of my back, he guided me directly under the stream of water before tilting my head back so that his seed could wash off of my face. After a moment, he pulled me back out of the water and pressed me into his chest. His hands travelled across my back and down to my ass, where he began massaging softly. As he massaged, the tips of his fingers grazed my slit from the back and I began to feel the urgent need to be touched. I nibbled at his skin and subconsciously arched my back in an attempt to give his hands better access to where I needed them most.
He ran a finger through my slick folds and my heart rate quickened against his chest. “You think you can manage to go again?” I breathed as he continued to tease me. I felt his body shift slightly as he chuckled. “Yup. Just give me a minute.” The words barely left his mouth before he dropped to his knees and backed my body up against the wall in one swift motion. Before I had a moment to process anything, his mouth connected to my bundle of nerves. To grant himself easier access, he grabbed my right leg and put it over his shoulder as I moaned out at the sensation that the new angle provided. His mouth moved rhythmically as his tongue swirled around my clit in the way that he knows drives me crazy, and I already began to feel the early whispers of an orgasm in my lower stomach.
After a few moments of bliss, my body was suddenly jolted into reality when he removed his lips from me and stood up. Keeping me pinned to the wall, he attacked my mouth with his own. Deep and carelessly, our lips moved in sync with one another as Chris simultaneously hooked my leg around his hip to press his body even closer to mine. Suddenly, our kiss was cut off by my open-mouthed gasp as Chris slammed his cock deep into my core. Without giving me a moment to adjust to his size, he began driving into me with quick strokes. I struggled to continue to stand — both because of the slippery shower and the velocity of his movements — so I dug my nails into his back for grip; sure to leave deep scratches by the time we were finished.
“Fuck Chris, you’re so big.” I moaned out, feeling my core stretch out with each of his thrusts. “Oh come on baby, you can take it.” His tone was mocking, but it came out breathless as he relentlessly pummelled into me.
His face was pressed against mine, and my view of his feverish gaze and tightened jaw was interrupted periodically only by his sloppy kisses along my jaw. As his pace began to grow more careless, my vision began to grow blurry from my approaching orgasm. “Chris, please keep going I’m so close.” I begged, fearful that his second orgasm would come quicker than my first.
He brought his hand to my throat and squeezed it delicately, his eyes on mine. “I’ll wait for you, princess. Want to cum with you.” His hand moved from my throat down to my clit, where he began rubbing it fiercely. The additional contact from him instantly sent a jolt of electricity down my spine, and I knew that it was only a matter of time before I was going to reach my climax. “C-chris, I’m — oh God I’m cumming.” I practically screamed as the wave of overwhelming pleasure hit me. As my walls pulsed erratically around his cock, Chris released a raspy moan — a clear indicator that he had also reached his own orgasm. His movements slowed tremendously as we both rode out our highs; both of our fluids and slurred profanities in harmony with one another.
Chris’s hips stopped moving completely as we both leaned our heads against the shower wall, catching our breath. His hand that had previously been on my clit was now resting on my inner thigh where it was thoughtlessly rubbing up and down my soft skin. The thick steam in the shower was making it even harder for me to catch my breath, so I turned the temperature down before stepping under the stream of water to begin cooling myself down. Chris followed suit, and squeezed some shampoo into his hand before lathering my hair with it. Humming at the relaxing feeling of his hands massaging my scalp, I leaned back against his firm chest.
“See, at least you know that part of our relationship didn’t change.” I said jokingly as I rinsed the shampoo out of my hair. “No, it definitely did.” He responded, and I froze. Once again I was worried that he had changed his mind; that maybe he thought the sex might start to be boring, or that sex with emotion was too sappy. Just as those insecurities began to rear their head, Chris’s eyes softened with a big smile as he pulled me towards him. “It got even better.” I felt my body relax in his arms at those words, and I beamed up at him. “I agree.” I pressed a soft kiss to his collar bone.
“Now let’s hurry up, I want to get back to Boston before it gets dark out.” I said as I hurriedly lathered by body with shower gel. Chris moved from his place under the shower head to give me space to wash off before exiting the shower. “Stay at mine tonight? We can watch Christmas movies!” He exclaimed as he grabbed a towel to dry off. I rolled my eyes with a smile. “You’re such a cornball. But unfortunately I think I might be too because that sounds great.” He giggled at this before poking his head back into the shower to plant a kiss on my nose. “I’m really happy we’re doing this.”
“Doing what? Getting excited over watching Christmas movies?” I asked with a chuckle. “No — well, yes. But no. I meant I’m — I’m really happy you’re all mine now.” His words made me melt a little inside, and I brought an affectionate hand to his jaw and brushed my thumb against it. I took a moment to really admire his perfect features — in awe of my current reality where a man as beautiful as him could feel the way he does about me— before responding, “Me too, Chris. I’m happy I’m all yours too.”
taglist:
@chrattstromboli @sncstur
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ihave-atummyache · 3 days
Text
3 way with ur roomie, hey roomie
ot8 blurb/imagine
stray kids
just my personal thoughts on the topic of ur skz!bf sharing u with another member (;
1.5 words
just hard thoughts i guess? idk im just horny and thinking
bang chan:
would share u with seungmin.
i feel like they would have very different approaches to how they are intimate, however, they both very much so give off brat tamer vibes in my opinion! i think seungmin would be more of a hard!dom brat tamer and chan would be more of a soft!dom brat tamer or even like more of an emotional brat tamer than a physical one. in the context that seungmin would spank you, smack you, spit on you, degrade you, chan would rather have you write that youre sorry 100 times on a piece of paper. im sorry its hot idk dont ask me!
i think their dynamic would work well together because they are so opposite but also so similar that it would be really easy to break you.
also they both would definitely love to see you cry. idk thats what theyre saying!!
lee know:
would share u with chan.
okay, hear me out. i know most people would think that he would share you with jisung but i so disagree!! minho is a possessive, jealous, mfer (hot). that being said, he is also basically joined at the hip with jisung and when you come around, its probably quite often the three of you together.
i dont think minho could stand the idea of you being around someone 24/7 that has seen you naked and felt every inch of you. hes sooo jealous.
but!! i think minchan would make for a great time tbh. theyre both so strong and yummy that it could get really rough, fast!! they're both very conscious of your body and how it is reacting to everything and they work in perfect tandem to make sure youre having a good time :p
you definitely cum so many times you can’t walk by the end of it all!
oh! and they both have greatttt stamina so i can just imagine you guys going at it for hours and hours.
most likely to have been made self indulgently, fueled by my own personal desires.
-on my knees for minchan.
changbin:
would share u with hyunjin.
changbin is so obsessed with hyunjin and its the cutest thing in the world. he thinks he can never be more obsessed with anyone but then, he meets you!
the idea of the two people he adores most in the world being intimate with him at the same time??? hot. hot hot hot. i also think that binnie is such a visual person. seeing you and hyunjin together is probably just pure art in his eyes.
i think that it would actually be super intimate. it would definitely not be something that happens often or casually. it probably happened one night on accident and it was a lot more intimate and intense than you all figured it would be.
changbin and hyunjin definitely kiss while they eiffel tower u. im sORRY!
hyunjin:
would share u with felix.
hyunjin loves felix so much. we all know this. i think that it would be very important that you and felix get along for hyunjin to make the relationship work.
honestly, it wouldnt surprise me if hyunjin were to make you two meet before you meet anyone else. he just values lix's opinion so much and its so cute. with that being said, i think that the idea of sharing you would kind of come naturally.
you and felix have GREAT chemistry and i think it would be hyunjin that suggests it. you three are probably sitting around the table or in the living room and he's just listening to you and felix talk and then he just speaks up with something stupid and hyunjin-like, for example: 'do you wanna have a threesome. like us three?' and obviously you and felix are quite surprised but after it being talked about, youre all down.
felix is probably a little softer in bed and i imagine hyunjin being the same way, except if he get particularly worked up. i imagine sex with hyunjin is usually pretty intimate and more like love-making. he is just such a romantic and values intimacy so much.
theres probably a lot of you receiving great head from the two boys and a LOT of kissing. and they have such nice lipshshshsjash
u definitely have a few bruises left as a reminder.
han:
would share u with minho.
okay okay okay so
im sensing the dynamic of minho actually not really participating and youre both kind of submissive BECAUSE voyeur minho>>>>
him telling jisung exactly how he should touch you or what he should say to you and then he gets all frustrated when jisung doesnt do it right and pushes him out the way and is like 'do it like this' and then showing him exactly how its done.
you're definitely being treated like an object more than a person and it's embarrassingly just that much hotter. i feel like jisung would follow every one of minho's commands without much thought. he trusts him whole heartedly even when it comes to you.
when you do actually have sex with both of them, it’s probably super rough. i feel like jisung would feed off minho’s energy and try to match it, yk?
felix:
would share you with changbin.
okay....hear me out! why do i lowk feel like you could dom changbin and felix so well.... and theyre so muscly and like masculine but you can get them both on their knees for you????? HOT
anyways, felix trust changbin a lot and he has said that changbin is his ideal type in men so... youre his ideal type, changbin is his ideal type, felix is in heaven.
a lot of praise from you has them both flustered and blushing and like putty in the palm of your hand. they could definitely dom you too tho!!! dont get me wrong.
manhandled, thrown up against a wall, rough, marked up, the works. they would probably hold you up at an insane angle so they can both fuck into you at the same time. some crazy karma sutra shit. i think they would be the first ones out of all these duos that would be found out. the way that changbin just suddenly gets a lot closer and touchier with you and the way the three of you would interact, it would be suspicious
most likely to end up in a poly relationship, methinks!
seungmin:
would share u with i.n.
THATS HIS BRO FR.
"seungmin, how do i make a girl cum with my fingers?"
"i can show u better than i can tell u"
and thats how you end up sprawled out on the bed getting edged over and over and over until you can barely feel your body!
"no angle your hand like this, there you go! you feel how this pretty pussy just clenched around you? thats good"
"you could probably make her squirt, she does all the time"
seungmin's words would be filthy. actually talking like youre just a sex doll that they can use for their own pleasure. i.n would probably often return and ask you and seungmin different questions and then youre all in the bedroom
he just happens to be more of a visual learner is all!
least likely to become poly, methinks! im under the impression that out of everyone, seungmin and jeongin would be the two that are most likely to keep things platonic. i think these would also be the most likely two members that have a friend with benefits and genuinely never catches feelings, yk?
okay and maybe it's just my own personal hand kink.... but they both have such fucking pretty hands like oh my goshdmsmshx put them down my throat pls!
i.n:
would share u with jisung.
tbh i think jeongin would be the most likely to share you with multiple members (maybe at the same time but uh anyways) but him and jisung just work.
jeongin is genuinely sooooo fond of jisung and you can just tell. he takes good care of jisung, even though he's younger and i think he trusts him a lot.
however, i think there could be a crazy dynamic here...
dom i.n x sub hannie x sub you?????
why is that kind of hot... and you all know im a big advocate for dom!han but i imagine him being a softer dom, at least a lot softer than jeongin. i.n and minho seem like they would be very similar in their dom ways.
i just cant imagine jeongin being a sub!!! like he IS an aquarius…lets not forget.
him and han’s dynamic is very silly and you can tell that they love each other dearly and feel very safe with one another. like they’re very much themselves around one another. i think thats why han would be able to sub to jeongin. and the irony of him being younger and he’s bossing him around… he would dig. jisung a freak!
han is a certified pussy addict. he eats coochie off the bone!! im imagining you sat back against i.n’s chest and jisung is between your legs just devouring and jeongin has his fingers practically gagging you omg i gtg N O
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jareaul0ver · 18 hours
Note
I’m IN LOVE with your Nika content. Maybe I’ve seen too many edits where she looks pissed but would you maybe ever write something about her being more rough with you for the first time ?🫢🫣
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wc: 1.4k warnings: pure filth below, pissed off nika, strap on usage r!receiving but nika still getting off, sucking the strap, overstimulation, rough handling, biting, cursing, boobs! pairings: nika x fem!reader
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Nika’s hands held a firm grip on your ass as she kissed you hard. You barely had time to ask why she looked so pissed off before she was on you. You couldn’t complain, though, not when she trailed down to your neck and nipped at it with her teeth.
She elicited a groan from you and it only made her grip on your ass tighten. Surely you would wake up the next morning with bruises in the shape of fingerprints from how hard she was holding you.
Her teeth sunk into the sweet spot on your neck and you sucked in a sharp breath. “Nika,” you mumbled. She ignored you and continued her assault on your skin, leaving bite marks all over your neck.
You gently pushed her off of you and her eyes immediately met yours. They were usually soft and filled with affection for you, but right now they only looked lustful and pissed.
After starting at her for a moment, you shook your head and lifted your shirt off and threw it to the ground. Nika moved forward and reconnected her lips to your neck, slowly making her way down to your collarbone.
Her hands slipped underneath your thighs and lifted you up. You gasped at her actions and quickly wrapped your arms around her neck and your legs around her waist for stability even though she was strong and you knew she could carry you easily.
Her lips were attached to your neck as she slowly carried you into your bedroom. She sat you on the edge of the bed and looked down at you before practically ripping your bra off.
She eyed your chest and bit her bottom lip before speaking. “Strip, I’ll be back.” She said firmly before turning around and walking to her bedroom.
You were a little confused, but knew better than to disobey her right now, so you stripped into nothing. You discarded your clothes on the floor and sat there waiting for Nika to return.
Once she finally walked back into the room, your lips parted and eyes widened. She was fully naked, like you, except for the harness with a strap on around her waist.
“Nika-“ you breathed out as she walked over to you and grabbed your chin.
“Hm?” Her grip was strong on your face. Her thumb ran over your lip and she spoke hoarsely. “Open.” You obeyed and she placed her thumb on your tongue. You closed your mouth around it and sucked for a second before she pulled it out.
She gathered a handful of your hair and pushed you down off the bed and onto your knees. You looked at the fake dick hanging from her waist. It wasn’t huge, but it wasn’t small by any means; it was probably the biggest thing you were going to take.
Your eyes darted up to hers and she saw the concerned look in them. Her face softened and her hand fell to caress your jaw. “If you don’t want this, we don’t have to do it.” Her thumb stroked your cheek. “But if you do, I’m not holding back, bebo.”
You swallowed nervously and nodded. “Okay.”
Nika nodded back at you before leaning down and pressing a kiss to your head. Her one hand gripped your hair while the other held the base of the strap. She tapped the tip of it against your lips.
You opened your mouth and she slid it in. A small groan left her lips at the sight of you about to suck her off. She thrusted forward slowly and your hands reached around her thighs for support.
She hit the back of your throat, making you gag, and she cursed under her breath. That finally set her off. She started slowly fucking your face with the strap. The tip hit the back of your throat over and over, and although it was something you weren’t used to, you felt heat pooling at your pussy.
Tears pricked at your eyes and you gazed up at her. She pulled the strap out of your mouth and you let out a deep breath. She wasn’t finished, though. She pulled you up to her before pushing you onto your back on the bed.
You scooted back and she crawled onto the bed after you, leaning on her knees. She took the strap and tapped it against your clit. You moaned and bucked your hips a little. Without warning, she lined herself up with you and slid it into your cunt.
You threw your head back against the pillow at the sensation of her being in you. It burned, but it burned good. She moved slowly at first, letting you adjust, but she was getting as needy as you were.
The base of the strap was hitting her clit perfectly. Her thrusts quickly picked up and she leaned over you. Her hands gripped your tits for support, and you cried out at the touch.
Your arms flung around her neck and scratched at the base of it. She leaned down further, her hand landing near your ear as she pounded into you. She groaned at the noises you were making, and felt herself getting closer to cumming.
You were on a whole other planet at this point. She was fucking you relentlessly and you felt the knot in your stomach tightening. “Fuck, Nika I’m- I’m gonna cum.” You whined, your words flowing right into her ear.
She reached down with one of her hands and rubbed small circles on your clit. You threw your head back and arched your body up into hers. The both of you were getting close to finishing. Nika’s hits jutted against yours erratically as her core tensed up.
The strap wasn’t doing much for her pleasure anymore, but your consistent whines and pleads were incredibly close to finishing her off. With a few more thrusts of her dick and circles on your clit, you came, her name spilling out of your mouth.
This sent her over the edge. She kept thrusting into you, but she slowed her pace to allow for you to both ride our your highs. She smashed her lips back onto yours and you kissed her dazedly.
She wasn’t finished with you, though. After you had caught your breath, she flipped you to be on top of her, the strap still in your dripping cunt. You gasped when she thrusted up into you.
“Nika I- I can’t.” You muttered through heavy breaths as she pumped in and out of you.
Her hands tightly gripped your ass and helped bounce you on the strap. “Yes you can.” She growled and you threw your head back. Tears pricked at your eyes, but you took over, moving yourself up and down.
You were incredibly sensitive, and so was she, so it didn’t take long for the knots in your cores to build back up again. The sound of your ass hitting her legs while you fucked yourself on the strap made Nika shudder.
“Just like that.” She bit her bottom lip and thrusted up into you. A few tears ran down your face at the feeling, and you swore you saw God as you came again.
Nika kept going, she was greedy and needed to cum again. You were so overstimulated and fucked out, but you refused to deny her another orgasm. With another few thrusts, she came with a loud moan, her grip on your ass incredibly bruising.
You came again and your body slumped. Your chest fell onto hers and you pleaded in her ear. “No more, please.”
She nodded and gently pulled out of you, a small gasp coming from your lips at the empty sensation. She shuffled out of the strap and tossed it onto the floor next to your bed.
Her hands ran up your spine and she rubbed your back soothingly. “Are you okay? Was it too much?” She whispered in your ear, the soft Croatian girl you usually knew coming back.
You shook your head. “No, no, I’m okay. I just..” You kissed her neck softly and she hummed. “I’ve never felt that fucking good before.”
She laughed into your ear and smiled. You spoke again. “Maybe I should get you pissed off more often if it’s gonna end up like this.”
She gripped your sides and you yelped. “Don’t even think about it.” She husked against your ear, earring a small giggle from your lips.
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ghostofhyuck · 24 hours
Text
AN: Hey, hahaha it's my first time writing a suggestive, detailed make-out session so don't judge me lmao.
01:47 AM
"Hey beautiful," Mark grins as soon as the door closed.
Coming home to see you sitting on the couch, waiting for him despite the late night gives him energy even though he spent the whole day practicing for their concert. To add to that, he's also working on his solo too.
"Hey love," you giggled as you approached him. His arms automatically spread just so you could embrace him with ease. As soon as you crashed onto him, his arms wrapped around you tightly. He breathes onto your hair, smelling the vanilla-scent of your shampoo. Mark smiles fondly as he gives it a sweet peck.
"How's your practice?" you asked, looking up to him.
"Tiring, the kids' never ran out of energy! But it was a fun practice, hopefully we stay healthy until the tour ends," Mark explains.
"Is that so? Do you want to sleep now? I know you have a schedule tomorrow," you said with a concerned tone.
Mark thought about it for moment, but this is only one of the nights where he goes home to you. Especially when you're still awake. He often catches you sleeping when he arrives, and could only savor a few hours in the morning because he has to leave early too.
"I'm good, I just miss you baby," he confessed.
You smiled at him, brushing his hair fondly. "You miss me?"
"So so fucking much," he said. His voice deeper than before.
You only let out a small laugh when you felt his lips crashing onto yours. Mark can taste the peach lip balm of yours. Never mind that you already did your nightly lip care routine, all he wants is you.
You kissed him back, reciprocating the longing that you had to taste your lover's lips. Your arms draping around his shoulders so that you could pull him closer. While Mark's hands trailed down on your thighs, tapping it gently so that you could jumped onto him. His arms gripping your ass firmly as he carries you all the way to the couch.
Mark lays you down gently. He breaks away from the kiss making you whine quietly.
You saw how his eyes darkened, hands brushing away the stray hair that covered your face. Gently, he cups your left cheek. "You don't know how long I've been waiting for this."
"Mark ---" and before you knew, his lips are on yours once again. It's sweet, intoxicating, probably something inside him grew a craving for you.
You couldn't help but to drown into the heat. Feeling things warming up as you can feel your lover's hands trailing around your body. You moaned as his tongue enters your mouth, savoring your taste more.
Mark's lips trailed down on your jaw, leaving trails of kisses on your neck, throat --- until he reached your shoulder, a part where you're sensitive the most. You could only inhale sharply as you can your lover bites your skin, sucking it, and leaving marks on it.
"M-mark," you couldn't help but to call out his name, your hands loosing its grip on his shoulders as you fall more into the pleasure. You could only close your eyes as you feel everything heating up more.
"Baby," Mark called out once again, he kisses you once again, much sloppy this time.
But your eyes widen when you felt Mark's hands trailing down your waist, tugging the waistband of your pajamas. Eyes wide, you lightly pushed Mark away from you.
"Wait, shit I'm sorry baby," Mark apologized immediately, realizing what he has done.
"No, no, it's okay," you answered back. "Things got heated up too."
"No, it's not okay, I crossed your boundaries."
You only smiled at your boyfriend. "Mark you didn't, I pushed you away and you got the signal, you stopped immediately."
Mark became quiet for a while. Guilt eating him up.
Despite the many times you two made out, you two never had sex because both of you decided to do it after marriage. It sound old-school but Mark respected that decision of yours when you first open it up.
Mark knows where his boundaries are and he never done things that would make you uncomfortable. He's satisfied with what you two had. There were only a few times he almost crossed the line but once you told him to stop, he immediately does, and that's one of the reason why you love Mark so much.
"I'm really, really, sorry baby," Mark said once again.
"One more sorry from you and you're ban from my kisses," you taunted.
"Okay, I'll stop," Mark said, even raising both of his hand as a sign of defeat.
You smiled once again, cupping his cheeks and planting a quick kiss on his lips.
"I think we should sleep now," you told him. Thinking that things might go far if you two start another make-out session.
Mark only chuckles as he steals a kiss from you, "yeah we should just sleep."
Your boyfriend gets up from the couch first, and before you could move, Mark swings his arms around your legs and waist, carrying you bridal-style.
"Mark! I can walk you know?" you said to him, punching his shoulder lightly.
"Just practicing," Mark said.
You raised an eyebrow. "For what?"
And before he answers, he kisses you once again. "For our wedding night."
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