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#imagines
fandoms-x-reader · 1 day
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Period Cramps
Requested By: @olivia-willo-w
Summary: The brothers find out (thanks to Satan) what a period is and try to help you through yours. The Seven Demon Brothers x Reader Word Count: 2,257
Periods are something that has become so normalized in the human world. 
It's a natural thing that happens to women and it shouldn’t be something to be embarrassed about.
But, in the Devildom, the only other human you had was a male. 
There was no one down there who would understand the process your body goes through once a month.
And that made it hard to talk about it.
You figured it would just be easier to keep them in the dark rather than try and explain it.
But, sometimes when you're on your period, it had a mind of its own.
You were having a bad cramp while at dinner with the brothers and you did your best to hide your pain.
But, Satan could tell you were in pain and he was worried about you. Not to mention, he couldn’t pass up an opportunity to show his brothers how smart he was.
See, Satan was your resident human expert.
When he found out that a human was coming to live with him and his brothers, he read every book he could find about humans and when he was done with those, he grabbed all of the specific books about females.
He wanted to know everything he could before you got down there.
So, when you were having your period in the Devildom, Satan immediately knew what was happening and was well-versed in the subject.
You had all of the tell-tale signs - mood swings, food cravings, headaches, bloating.
Whatever symptom you had, it pointed to it being your time of the month.
There was a conversation already going on amongst his brothers, but Satan ignored it in favor of asking you, “Are you on your period?”
Everyone froze in place at Satan’s question and your face burned a bright red as all of the attention was on you. Who just asks a personal question like that?!
Satan didn’t mean any disrespect. The way it was presented to him in the books was as a natural, common thing that all women go through. So he didn’t you would have any reason to be embarrassed about it.
And maybe if he had approached you about it on his own, things would have been different. But he just blurted the question out…in front of everyone…in the middle of dinner.
Before you could even respond, Mammon asked, “What’s a period?” And your cheeks felt even hotter as you began to slowly sink down in your chair, wishing you could disappear from this conversation.
“You don’t know?” Asmo asked with a glint in his eyes. Of course, the Avatar of Lust would know what a period is. Considering the amount of human women he had probably met you were sure he was as knowledgeable as Satan was about it.
But there was no way the fourth-born would allow his little brother to take his thunder. “Allow me to explain,” Satan stated.
And for the next few torturous minutes, you had to uncomfortably sit there as Satan explained what a period was in vivid detail.
You watched the brothers’ faces go through a whirlwind of reactions until they were all left sitting there speechless and somewhat bothered.
“Well?” Lucifer’s question broke the silence and you turned to face the eldest. He was making eye contact with you and he continued to ask, “Are you?”
“Is that why you look like you’re in pain?” Belphie asked. “Wait, do periods hurt?” Beel questioned in response.
“Do all female normies go through that?” Levi questioned, his cheeks threatening to burn as bright as yours at the question.
Your cramps weren’t backing down and you were feeling more than overwhelmed at the sudden bombardment and soon everything felt like it was too much.
“I think I’ll skip dinner tonight,” you stated plainly before abruptly getting up from the table and making your way to the bedroom.
The brothers watched you leave, confused and worried about you. Was it something they said? Or was it because you weren’t feeling well?
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Lucifer was in a state of surprise when you left the dining room table.
He knew about periods, and he knew it was something female humans experienced.
But, it wasn’t something he had prepared for.
In all of the things that he had done and gathered to ensure you would have everything you need for your stay in the Devildom, that had somehow slipped his mind.
It took him a moment to gather his bearings before going to check on you.
He showed up to your room with a glass of water and medicine to help with your cramps.
He gave you a small smile when you gratefully took the medicine and allowed him in your room.
He looked a little lost, unsure of how exactly to help you. But, if you tell him what you need, he will move heaven and earth to make sure you get it.
You were his responsibility after all. He couldn’t disappoint Diavolo by allowing you to be in pain. And he couldn’t trust his brothers to do a good enough job.
Or maybe - just maybe - he wanted to be the one who took care of you.
Either way, he won’t leave your side for the rest of the night, and if you show any sign of discomfort, he’ll find a way to soothe you.
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Mammon was still freaking out about all of the information he had obtained that night.
Periods sounded awful and he couldn’t believe that it was something that happened to female humans - every month.
Mammon was trying to process everything when you left the table and that’s when his mind went from his own train of thought to you.
From all of the facts he was told, one stood out more than the others - you were in pain.
And Mammon was supposed to protect you, so he couldn’t have that.
He excused himself from the dinner table as well before quickly doing a search on his D.D.D. to find out ways to help you.
About a half an hour later, Mammon showed up at your bedroom door, his arms full of miscellaneous objects.
He had everything he could think of - a heating pad, pain medicine, chocolate, and your favorite snacks.
He wasn’t sure what out of those items would help, but he hoped at least one of them would.
He also offered to stay in your room that night and watch a movie with you, which inevitably ended in you falling asleep in his arms, while he held you close.
Mammon is just happy that you felt safe enough with him to let him help you when you’re in this vulnerable stage.
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It is a known fact that Levi panics in intense situations.
And you abruptly leaving the dinner table was something he would classify as an intense situation.
He didn't necessarily understand all of the intricacies of your period, but he did know that he wanted to help.
Levi didn't have any idea where to start, so he went to his default of bringing videogames and DVDs to your room.
You bit back a chuckle as you opened the door and saw Levi struggling to hold everything he brought.
You let him inside, grateful of the fact that he was trying and Levi quickly got to work setting up yours and his favorite game.
The fun that you were having with Levi was enough to distract you from the pain of your period cramps.
But that didn't stop him from checking in - quite often - and asking if you were alright.
Levi offered to get you food, something to drink, medicine - anything you would need.
And if you did ask him for something, he moved faster than you'd ever seen to get it back to you promptly.
He may not be an expert in what was going on with you, but he would do just as good of a job as any of the others when it came to comforting you.
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As stated, Satan was an expert on everything to do with your period before you even got it.
He didn't need to search anything up or refer to his books.
He figured this would happen sooner rather than later and he was prepared for it.
Like Mammon, Satan gets everything you need. But, unlike Mammon, it’s all already prepared in an emergency kit that he’s kept in his room.
Satan grabbed the bag and went to your room in a matter of moments.
When you opened the door, Satan offered you a brief apology about the events that occurred at dinner. He felt guilty about putting you on the spot like that.
But, he offered to make it up to you by helping relieve your pain.
When you allowed him in, Satan was as strict as a doctor, almost in an overbearing way.
He gave you the medicine to take and instructed you to lay in a way that allowed for the ideal positioning of the heating pad.
And even if it wasn’t the way you wanted to lay, when the heating pad started working, you were thankful for Satan’s expertise.
He stayed with you for the rest of the night, sitting next to you and gently running his fingers through your hair as he read one of your favorite books to you.
It ends up being much more comforting than you would have expected from the Avatar of Wrath.
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Asmo may not be like Satan or Lucifer in knowing all about a human period.
But he has had his fair share of experience with it.
And he’s a pro at rest and relaxation.
Asmo let you calm down in your room for a little bit while he set things up in own room. 
He was sure you were upset at all of them for bombarding you at dinner like that.
But, he was hoping that you would let him help you anyway.
When he was ready, he asked you to join him in his room, and after promising he wouldn’t try anything risque, you agreed to go.
When you got to his room, you were met with an overwhelming aroma of essential oils and the sound of soft music playing.
The lights were dimmed so that the room was bright enough to see, but dark enough to relax.
Under normal circumstances, you would have assumed that Asmo was trying to come on to you, but he had promised he just wanted to help.
He led you to his bed and asked for permission to give you a massage.
Being the Avatar of Lust, Asmo’s knows the human body very well, and he knew every technique and every spot that needed to relax, and you felt all of your tension release and your cramps subside.
Asmo had a small smile on his face as you slowly drifted off after feeling relaxed enough.
He would always be there to help pamper you whenever you needed it.
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Beel was a bit confused when you left the table.
He didn’t really understand the gravity of the situation. 
And so, playing to his kind and innocent nature, Beel thought something was wrong with the dinner.
He quietly finished the food on his plate before disappearing from the House of Lamentation. 
When he came back, he went directly to your room with bags full of all of your favorite food. No one should skip dinner.
You had to keep yourself from laughing as Beel explained why he brought all of your favorite food and you invited him in to share the food with you.
Beel noticed the pained expression you flashed every so often and when you told him about your period cramps and how that was the reason you left dinner early, Beel wanted to do everything he could to help.
He immediately engulfed you into his arms, holding you tightly into him as his hands rubbed soothing circles onto your back.
You felt your pain slowly going away as Beel’s body warmth underneath you acted as a heating pad and his hands relieved any tension you were holding.
He might not know exactly how to help you, but he’s just as effective in soothing your cramps nonetheless.
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Belphie's help almost always came with a witty remark or some teasing no matter who you were or what the situation was.
But, for this particular situation, Belphie tried to be on his best behavior.
From what he heard, this was a hard time for you and he was certain the wrong remark would set you off.
So, he played especially nice.
He came to your room and asked you if there was anything he could do to help.
When you let him in, he asked a few questions about your period and got you a few things.
But, if that doesn't help, Belphie will escalate things.
When most people think of the Avatar of Sloth, they only think about him sleeping a lot.
They don't often recognize the power he had over other people's sleep.
And if you continue to be in pain throughout the night, Belphie will reach a point where he believes sleep is the only way to help you.
And it will be the best sleep of your life, full of amazing dreams to keep any pain of your cramps far away from you.
Naturally, Belphie will spend the night in your room, cuddling you.
But it's just to make sure you get a restful sleep the whole night!
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urdreamydoodles · 2 days
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X-Men x Reader (Part.1)
You smacks their ass as they walk past (Part.1)
Each X-Man reacts with a mix of surprise and playful teasing when you smacks their ass as they walk past, leading to affectionate and mischievous moments.
Characters: Logan Howlett, Remy LeBeau, Kurt Wagner, Scott Summers, Erik Lehnsherr, Warren Worthington III, Bobby Drake, Alex Summers, Pietro Maximoff & Jean Grey
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Logan (Wolverine):
You’re in the kitchen, mindlessly going about your business, while Logan’s at the counter slicing through a loaf of bread. He’s focused, as usual, with that familiar scowl on his face that never quite leaves. The kitchen is quiet, just the hum of the fridge and the faint sounds of his knife slicing through the bread. You can’t help yourself—you watch him for a moment, admiring the way his muscles move under his tight shirt, the raw strength in every little motion. He looks so serious, so in his own world.
As you pass behind him, you smirk to yourself. It’s too tempting. Without thinking twice, you let your hand drift out, and with a sharp flick of your wrist, you smack his ass, enjoying the solid *thwack* that follows. You don’t stop, just continue walking like nothing happened, a satisfied smile curling on your lips.
Logan freezes mid-slice. For a beat, he doesn’t say a word. Then you hear the low rumble of a growl deep in his chest. “Really, darlin’?” His voice is thick, a little rough around the edges, and you can hear the amusement creeping in. He turns his head, one eyebrow raised, that familiar smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
You glance back at him, feigning innocence, but you can see the way his eyes darken just a bit. He drops the knife, turning slowly, taking a step toward you. His movements are deliberate, almost predatory. “You think you can just walk by like that and not face the consequences?” His voice is a low, gravelly whisper, sending shivers down your spine.
Before you can respond, Logan’s hand is on your waist, pulling you back against him. You can feel the heat radiating off him, his breath hot against your ear as he murmurs, “If you’re gonna start somethin’, sweetheart, you better be ready to finish it.” There’s a playful challenge in his voice, a glint in his eyes that tells you he’s not about to let you off the hook that easily.
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Remy LeBeau (Gambit):
Remy is leaning against the couch, casually flipping through a deck of cards, as he often does when he’s bored. The two of you have been lounging around the living room all afternoon, and there’s an easy, comfortable silence between you. He’s dressed in that effortless way he always is—dark jeans that hug him in all the right places and a shirt that’s just tight enough to show off his lean muscles. He catches you looking at him, flashing you that mischievous smile, the one that makes your heart skip a beat.
You roll your eyes at him, but you’re already plotting something in your head. You stroll past him, heading toward the kitchen, but as you do, you let your hand dip down and smack his ass, hard enough to make him jump a little. You don’t stop, just keep walking like nothing happened, a satisfied smirk on your face.
“Mon dieu, cherie,” Remy’s voice comes out in a playful drawl, full of that Southern charm he’s famous for. He’s immediately on his feet, tossing the cards onto the couch and following you into the kitchen. “You really gonna hit an innocent man like dat and walk away?” You glance over your shoulder, and he’s grinning, his red-on-black eyes glowing with amusement.
Before you can get far, he’s behind you, his hands sliding around your waist, pulling you back against him. “Y’know, cher, dat’s gonna cost you somethin’,” he whispers, his lips brushing your ear. There’s a heat to his words, and you can feel the playful threat behind them. “You know what happens when you mess with de Ragin’ Cajun, right?”
He spins you around, pressing you up against the counter with that wicked grin still plastered on his face. His hands slide down your sides, landing right where you’d smacked him. “Might have t’ return de favor,” he purrs, leaning in to press a teasing kiss to your lips. “You know Remy always collects his dues, mon amour.”
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Kurt Wagner (Nightcrawler):
You’re in the middle of tidying up the bedroom when you spot Kurt near the door, his back to you as he’s sorting through some papers. He’s muttering to himself in that soft, lilting German accent that you love so much, completely unaware of your eyes on him. His tail sways lazily behind him as he concentrates, and you can’t help but grin to yourself, an idea forming in your head.
You move silently, making your way over to him, and just as you pass by, you raise your hand and give his firm ass a playful smack. The sound is sharp in the quiet room, and you immediately keep walking, acting as if nothing had happened. But the reaction is instantaneous.
Kurt yelps in surprise, his tail flicking up and curling in the air as he turns to face you, a mix of shock and amusement on his face. “Liebling!” he exclaims, his yellow eyes wide with playful disbelief. “Did you just…?” His voice trails off as he stares at you, his mouth hanging open in mock offense.
You glance over your shoulder at him, feigning innocence. “What? I didn’t do anything,” you say with a smirk, knowing full well he doesn’t believe a word of it.
Before you can blink, there’s a familiar "bamf", and in an instant, Kurt’s teleported right in front of you, his arms wrapping around your waist as his tail curls mischievously around your leg. “Oh, so you think you can get away with that, meine Liebe?” he teases, his voice low and filled with amusement. “You know I won’t let that slide.”
His lips brush against your neck, his breath warm against your skin as he continues, “Perhaps you need a reminder of what happens when you provoke a demon.” The way he says it is both playful and sultry, sending a thrill down your spine. His tail tightens its grip on your leg, holding you in place as his hands move to your hips.
Kurt’s mischievous smile is contagious, and you can’t help but laugh as he presses a light kiss to your lips. “Next time, I might just have to teleport you somewhere… private,” he adds with a wink, his tail flicking playfully as he pulls you closer, the two of you lost in your little game.
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Scott Summers (Cyclops):
You’re sitting at the dining room table, flipping through some documents when Scott walks by with his usual purposeful stride. His posture is perfect, as always, and that stern expression he wears doesn’t falter. He’s got a natural air of authority, but you’ve seen the softer side of him that few others get to witness. As he walks past you, that teasing side of you sparks to life, and without warning, you reach out and give his ass a firm smack.
The sound echoes in the quiet room, and Scott stops dead in his tracks. For a moment, you think maybe you’ve startled him too much, but then he turns slowly, adjusting his visor in that way he does when he’s trying to keep control. “Really?” he asks, his voice calm but with a hint of amusement. “You’re feeling bold today, huh?”
You grin, leaning back in your chair as if daring him to react. “What? You can’t handle a little fun?” you tease, enjoying the way his jaw clenches ever so slightly.
Scott doesn’t let himself smile, but you can see the ghost of one tugging at his lips. He strides back toward you, placing his hands on either side of your chair, leaning down until his face is mere inches from yours. His eyes are hidden behind that visor, but you know that intense gaze is focused solely on you. “You know,” he murmurs, his voice low and authoritative, “I could make this a teaching moment if you keep testing me.”
There’s a flicker of challenge in his tone, and you can’t help but shiver at the way he’s so controlled yet playful all at once. “Maybe I want to be taught a lesson,” you reply cheekily, smirking up at him.
Scott’s lips quirk into a small smile at that, and he leans in even closer, his breath brushing your skin. “Don’t start something you’re not ready to finish,” he warns softly, his tone filled with promise. You know Scott is all about discipline and control, but with you, there’s always an undercurrent of heat simmering just beneath the surface. And right now, you’re enjoying pushing all his buttons.
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Erik Lehnsherr (Magneto):
You’ve just finished straightening up a few things around the living room when you notice Erik standing by the window, his arms crossed and his expression distant. He’s always deep in thought, his mind constantly working through plans, strategies, and the weight of his responsibilities. But in moments like these, you love pulling him out of that serious headspace, even if just for a second.
As you walk past him, you let your hand trail along his lower back before delivering a quick, playful smack to his ass. You know it’ll catch him off guard, and sure enough, Erik’s head turns sharply toward you, a mixture of surprise and amusement flashing in his steely gaze. “Liebling,” he says slowly, his deep voice laced with a dark chuckle, “I hope you realize what you’ve just done.”
You meet his gaze with a mischievous smile, shrugging casually. “What? Can’t a person have a little fun?”
Erik narrows his eyes, though you can see the faint smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. He steps toward you, his movements smooth and deliberate, until he’s standing directly in front of you, his towering presence almost intimidating. “You’re playing a dangerous game,” he warns, his voice low and dripping with intent.
His fingers reach out, brushing against your arm with a feather-light touch before sliding to your waist. “You should know better than to provoke me,” he continues, his tone growing softer, more menacing in a way that sends a thrill down your spine. There’s always something about Erik’s raw power that makes moments like these feel electric, like you’re on the verge of something intense.
You raise an eyebrow at him, refusing to back down. “Maybe I like living dangerously.”
Erik’s smirk widens, and without warning, he pulls you closer, his hand firm on your waist. “Careful, Liebling,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your skin. “Next time, I might not be so gentle.” His eyes gleam with the promise of something more, and you can’t help but smile, knowing that with Erik, every moment is charged with tension and passion.
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Warren Worthington III (Angel):
Warren is pacing around the room, his wings fluttering slightly as he moves. He always gets restless like this, especially after long missions, and you can see the tension in his shoulders. His wings, magnificent as ever, brush against the walls with each step, and you can’t help but admire the effortless grace he carries with him.
You decide to lighten the mood, and as you walk by, you reach out and give his ass a playful smack. It’s quick, unexpected, and you’re already a few steps ahead by the time Warren stops and turns to look at you, his eyebrows raised in surprise. “Really, Y/N?” he says, a soft laugh escaping his lips. There’s a twinkle in his blue eyes, the corners of his mouth lifting into that charming smile you know so well.
“What?” you reply innocently, glancing over your shoulder at him. “Just wanted to see if you’d notice.”
Warren chuckles, shaking his head as he folds his wings neatly behind him and strides over to you. “Oh, I noticed,” he says, his voice smooth and playful, like silk brushing against your skin. He steps closer, his hand slipping around your waist, pulling you back toward him. “You’re lucky I find it cute when you get cheeky.”
You grin up at him, but before you can say anything, Warren’s lips are by your ear, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “But you should know… you’ve got my full attention now.” There’s a teasing edge to his words, and you can feel the heat of his body pressed against yours, his wings subtly enclosing around you, as if shielding the two of you from the world.
His fingers glide down your back, lingering just above where your hand had landed on him. “You know,” he whispers, his breath hot against your neck, “if you wanted my attention, all you had to do was ask.” His lips brush the shell of your ear, and you can feel the playful energy between you shift into something deeper, more intimate. Warren always knows how to turn a simple moment into something unforgettable, and as his wings wrap around you, you know you’re in for more than just playful teasing tonight.
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Bobby Drake (Iceman):
You’re standing by the counter, organizing some groceries while Bobby flips through a magazine at the kitchen table. His legs are kicked up, as casual as ever, when you pass by. Feeling playful, you give his ass a swift smack as you move past him. The sound echoes in the small space, and it’s enough to catch his attention immediately.
Bobby jerks, almost spilling his drink in surprise, before whipping around to face you, his eyes wide and his cheeks flushed from both the slap and embarrassment. “Woah! Y/N, what was that for?” he asks, though there’s no hiding the grin pulling at his lips.
You shrug, flashing him an innocent look. “Just making sure you’re awake.”
He laughs, shaking his head as he stands up, crossing the room to stand next to you. “Oh, I’m awake now, alright,” he teases, sliding his arms around your waist, his touch cool against your skin. “I didn’t know you had it in you to get so… bold.”
His playful tone matches the mischievous glint in his eyes, and you can’t help but laugh along with him. “What? You can’t handle a little fun?” you challenge, enjoying the light banter between you two.
Bobby leans in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he murmurs, “I can handle anything you throw at me, but don’t think I’ll let you get away with that.” His voice is laced with a teasing edge, and you feel a cool breeze sweep through the room, a subtle reminder of the icy powers he wields. You know he’s up to something, but before you can react, he presses a quick kiss to your neck and steps back with a wink. “You’re gonna pay for that, you know.”
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Alex Summers (Havok):
Alex is sprawled out on the couch, looking through some reports when you walk by. His feet are up, and there’s a focused look on his face, the kind he always wears when he’s trying to deal with the endless responsibilities of being an X-Man. You take the opportunity as you pass, leaning over to give his ass a firm smack, catching him completely off guard.
Alex sits up instantly, his eyes narrowing playfully as he turns to you. “Did you just…?” he starts, not quite believing what just happened. He’s still processing it, a mix of amusement and shock spreading across his face.
You grin, crossing your arms as you raise an eyebrow. “What? Just thought I’d remind you who’s boss around here,” you tease, knowing it’ll get a rise out of him.
Alex chuckles, shaking his head as he stands up, his presence commanding yet relaxed. “Oh, is that right?” he asks, his voice low, a hint of mischief lacing his words. He walks toward you, closing the space between you quickly. “Well, I think you’re about to find out that I don’t take orders so easily.”
His hands find your waist, pulling you flush against him. You can feel the heat radiating off his skin, his energy always simmering just beneath the surface. “You like playing with fire, huh?” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “Careful, Y/N… you might just get burned.”
The tension between you sizzles, and there’s a playful challenge in his eyes as he leans in closer. Alex has always had that perfect balance of power and charm, and moments like this remind you just how intoxicating he can be.
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Pietro Maximoff (Quicksilver):
Pietro is a blur of motion, zipping around the room as he organizes everything at lightning speed. You’ve gotten used to his constant fast-paced movements, but that doesn’t stop you from messing with him whenever you get the chance. As he darts past you, you reach out, timing it perfectly to give his ass a swift smack.
In a flash, Pietro skids to a halt, spinning around to face you, his eyes wide with a mixture of surprise and excitement. “Did you just smack me?” he asks, his voice incredulous but laced with laughter. “I didn’t even see that coming!”
You grin, leaning against the counter as you shrug casually. “Maybe you’re losing your touch, Speedy.”
Pietro narrows his eyes playfully, zipping right in front of you in the blink of an eye. He’s so close, you can feel the rush of air from his speed. “Losing my touch? Oh, you’re in for it now,” he teases, his lips curling into that trademark smirk that always makes your heart race.
Before you can respond, he leans in, his breath hot against your ear. “You’re lucky I find this little game of yours amusing,” he murmurs, his voice a low purr. “But don’t think for a second I won’t get you back. Faster than you can blink.”
Pietro’s hand slides down your side, and you can feel the energy buzzing off him, the tension between you electric. His eyes gleam with mischief as he tilts his head slightly. “Next time you try that, you better be ready to run,” he warns, but there’s no real danger in his tone—only the promise of more playful banter to come.
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Jean Grey:
Jean is standing at the stove, her mind likely a million miles away as she stirs something in the pot. You’ve always loved watching her in these quiet moments, the way her hair seems to glow in the soft light, her expression so calm and serene. As you walk by, you decide to playfully break the stillness and give her a quick, teasing smack on the ass.
Jean gasps in surprise, her stirring hand freezing mid-motion as she looks over her shoulder at you, eyes wide with a mix of shock and amusement. “Y/N!” she exclaims, her voice half-laughing, half-scolding. You can see the blush rising on her cheeks, and it only makes your grin widen.
“What?” you reply innocently, trying your best to look like you didn’t just commit the playful act. “I couldn’t resist.”
Jean sets the spoon down and turns fully toward you, hands on her hips, but there’s a sparkle in her eyes. “You’re trouble, you know that?” she says, though the smile tugging at her lips betrays any attempt at a stern tone.
Before you can respond, you feel a subtle tug in your mind—Jean’s way of playfully reminding you she’s always got the upper hand when it comes to your little games. She steps closer, her fingers brushing lightly against your arm. “You know I could have you pinned with a single thought,” she teases, her voice soft yet teasing. “But I think I’ll let you off the hook this time… unless you want me to show you what happens when you mess with a telepath.”
You raise an eyebrow, feeling the warmth of her body as she presses closer, her lips ghosting over your ear. “Think you’re fast enough to get away next time?” she whispers, her breath hot against your skin, leaving you anticipating her next move.
254 notes · View notes
loohs-world · 2 days
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Ollie Bearman x girlfriend!sainz!reader
ynsainz
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liked by iamrebeccad,carlossainz55 and 1.235.225 people
ynsainz La vida es hermosa contigo 🤍
carlossainz55 Te estoy vigilando Bearman
olliebearman don't worry, I love your sister I would never hurt her
iamrebeccad You cuties, all the best to you 🤍
olliebearman I love you pretty girl❤️
ynsainz I love you too Ollie❤️🥹
ollieandynfanpage ❤️
user 😍😍
user They were made for each other
landonorris happy to see you happy ❤️
ynsainz 🥹🥹❤️
carlossainzoficial Mi dulce niña, es maravilloso verte feliz❤️
ynsainz Ay papi, gracias por tanto🥹❤️‍🩹
blancasainz95 🤍
user How cute! 🥹
user 😍
charles_leclerc We are all happy for you both, but we will always keep an eye on you 😑🫵🏽
user I love their dynamic, they treat them like they are a younger sister
yukitsunoda0511 It's more like a pet 😂
ynsainz very funny birthday souvenir 😂❤️
user That's what I'm talking about LOL
user Oh how beautiful love is 😍🥰
user my boyfriend and his girlfriend 😍
user How cute🥹
see all 2,101 comments
olliebearman ✓
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liked by iamrebeccad, carlossainz55 and 39.091 people
olliebearman we always my princess🤍
user 😍
user I knew there was something going on with them, Ollie always looked at Yn with puppy dog eyes, and I'm sure the song "Can't help falling in love" by Elvis Presley played in his mind
carlossainz55 I always suspected, he was like that whenever she passed by or talked to him 🧍🏻🧍🏻and not to mention the bright eyes
ynsainz Te amo Ollie, gracias por amarme🤍
olliebearman I have to thank you for accepting me as your boyfriend, I promise to always love you, you are the greatest love of my life 🤍
sebastianvetell Be happy children, love is beautiful and yours is even more beautiful!!
ynsainz Oh Seb, I love you so much 🥹
olliebearman Thank you Seb❤️
carlossainzoficiall take good care of my little girl boy
olliebearman I will go sir 🫡
carlossainzoficiall good 🫂
yourfriend WHEN WILL IT BE MY TURN? 😭
landonorris You know, I'm single, you're single 🫣
yourfriend Do you know when we're leaving Norris?
landonorris I don't know my love, when sweetie?
yourfriend N-E-V-E-R
landonorris you love me i know 😮‍💨
user in life I'm Lando lol😂
user If you break up, I'll die, I swear
user Bearman, can you fight? Because I'm gonna steal your girlfriend
user I would love to be the couple's lunchbox LOL
user they know they are perfect 😮‍💨😮‍💨
user fan of your relationship 🫢
user I always rooted for this couple
user the couple that Disney doesn't have😍
user 😍😍
ynnews 😍
user Cute 😩🥹
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whereforarthur · 18 hours
Text
So Much Restraint
Request: george (dom) smut where we have been on a group holiday and stopping ourselves from having sex cos of the other ppl (staying in the same villa/b&b) but once we get home its like practically clawing at each others clothes
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Pairing: George Clarkey x Gf!Reader
Category: Smut
Word Count: 3.2k
*****
Those who restrain desire do so because theirs is weak enough to be restrained. - William Blake
George leaned against the railing of the villa balcony, his gaze following the boundary between the sea, which was as blue as the ocean, and the sky above. After daybreak, the warm hue of the blazing sun engulfed the clouds, displacing the surging sea below that had looked so blue at the break of dawn. The warm wind blew through a coconut palm, and one could detect the smell of the sea and tropical cream. He sighed and glanced at the heavens, taking in the final moments of solitude before the party commenced.
The past week was a rollercoaster of enjoyment and annoyance. He and his girlfriend, y/n, had to restrain themselves from giving in to each other so as not to disturb their mates on vacation, just nodding and winking at each other as they walked around the living spaces with their friends—Chris, Arthur Hill, and Arthur TV. The villa was very nice, but with people constantly around them, there was no way of giving in to the passion that had been threatening to ignite ever since they set foot in the villa.
As the sun set that evening, George was weak, wanting to give in to his desires. It was a standoff, a power struggle that had been going on all week, one that was palpable yet wordless. As he got up, he saw Y/N standing at the door as she looked straight at him, suggesting that she was fighting the same battle as him. She wore a light summer dress that hugged her curves perfectly.
“It's time for dinner,” Y/N whispered, her words resonating melodiously. ”They are waiting for us downstairs.”
George nodded, yet neither of them looked away from the other. “I know,” he said quietly, the roughness in his tone giving her goosebumps. "I can only imagine what we are going to get up to once we get home."
Silence filled the space between them when he moved closer, and despite the heat in the villa, he only wanted her closer. As if in response, Y/N’s hand slowly extended, touching his chest lightly and causing his spine to tingle.
George saw her looking back at him, and for what felt like hours but could only be a few seconds, an incredible sensation engulfed his entire body and mind. He pulled her closer, the touch of his lips on hers hard and passionate. This was the kiss of love, of desire, the kiss that had been waiting to happen and which was ready to unleash after being pent up for this long.
But as soon as they started, they stopped. Hearing the boy's laughter from the pool below pulled them back into reality. They separated hesitantly, both attempting to calm themselves down. “We can’t,” Y/N whispered, her cheeks burning red.
“I know,” he said, calming her down as he took her hand. “When we get home, I will show you exactly how much I’ve missed you.” It was in his voice that she found the assurance she needed, and with that, she pulled him closer, her arms around his neck as they kissed.
They disappeared from each other for a while; the sound of their pulse echoed with the thump of the sea waves. They were able to keep it to themselves, and the anticipation of the arrangement made it seem like a couple’s promise.
At dinner, they had to wade through desire, circle it like a choreographed dance, sit across from each other at the table with friends, laugh, and chat about the delicious meal and wonderful company. But every time George cast his gaze at Y/N, he could see the same desire in her eyes.
After the meal, they made their excuses, claiming jet lag and the need for an early night. The boys raised their eyebrows in amusement but said nothing.
In their room, George and Y/N took turns in the shower, the sound of water a tantalizing backdrop to their stolen kisses and gentle touches.
Once Y/N emerged, her skin dewy and smelling faintly of coconut, George found his resolve slipping once more. They were both sitting on the edge of the bed; their legs were entangled; they felt the insatiable desire to strip each other. “We can do this,” George whispered, his fingers rubbing through her wet hair. "We can wait; we’ve made it this far."
Y/N breathed in deeply and exhaled, nodding her head slightly. “We have to,” she repeated, her voice a little weary as desperation began to creep in. "If we start now, I don't know if we would ever be able to stop."
They stretched out on the bed, their naked bodies rigid with the agitation of unsatisfied desire. The villa was silent apart from the faint sound of the sea in the distance and laughter from the party in the streets. They could feel the adrenaline pumping through their veins and could virtually hear the sound of their hearts beating.
George’s fingers lightly touched Y/N’s inner thigh, lazing dangerously close to the line of her shorts. "The boys are already complaining about the noises we make at home," he said, though he couldn’t fully hide his amusement. “What would they say if they only knew we have been holding ourselves back?”
Y/N blushed at the thought, gripping the sheets beneath her tightly. “We’ve got to be so much louder at home,” she said, though there was obvious affront in her words. "It will make them think that we have gone mad.”
They smiled at each other, and the tension reduced for a while. But the underlying current persisted; it was an active, waiting-to-detonate-at-any-moment kind of omnipresent tension. George looked down at her and then placed his hand softly over her thighs, delicately tracing lines on her skin. He immediately stopped his movements and faced her as he whispered, “It doesn’t matter what they say.” He smirks at her, “As long as you’re screaming my name.”
Y/N’s eyes sparkled with delight, and she couldn’t help but gasp at what he said. It was a familiar move, a classic sign of affection, but she went further to touch his face, specifically the line of his jaw, a touch that seemed to power through him like volts of electricity. ‘And what about when we get home?’ she whispered. For many, a dangerous question is the provocative “What do you want to do to me?”
George squeezed her thigh gently and looked at her with lustful eyes. “Everything,” he said, his voice turning into a growl. ”I wish to devour every part of you, have you quiver in my embrace, and hear you scream out my name until your throat gets sore.”
Y/N felt her heart racing just at the thought of it, her pulse rate rising through the roof as high as it could go. "Won't the boys still be home?” she asked, her fingers tracing over his hand.
George chuckled darkly. “Oh, they will hear us alright,” he responded, his eyes alternating between naughtiness and amusement. “But it’s ‘our’ house and ‘our’ rules.” The words slither through the air like a sultry whisper before he continues: “And if I remember correctly, you enjoyed 'screaming’ my name without a care in the world before.”
The atmosphere in the room became oppressively heavy, and the tension was palpable. Y/N moved her hand up his chest; she ran her nails along the surface and felt him shiver under her touch. ‘I have missed you, she murmured lustfully.
But just when George was about to surrender to this desire to strip her naked and finally feel her, a sound from the next room brought them to a halt. It was the Arthurs' unmistakable, slurred laughter as the duo clumsily barged into the room.
“Maybe we should try to get some sleep,” Y/N said quietly, waking up with concern in her eyes. ‘I don't know what I would do if they ever walked in on us.’
George let out a long-suffering sigh, his limbs trembling in protestation for not giving in. “Alright,” he agreed, even though he felt an overpowering urge to demand more. They kissed one more time and then lay gently beside each other, their limbs touching in the darkness of the bed where they slept.
The night was full of insomnious, restless whispers and secrets of lips pretending not to ache for each other. They found themselves lying side by side, and the distance that separated them seemed enormous.
Each time George moved in the bed, it made a squeaky sound, and this made them realize the importance of keeping quiet. They would go to bed and only wake up in the wee hours of the morning with the air between them pregnant with desire.
The next day, like all the previous days, the vacation by the tropical sun had arrived with no special warning, different from the fact that it was the last of the vacation, and the day felt weighty with the expectation of what was to come.
They packed their bags, the mundane task feeling almost erotic as their eyes kept darting toward each other, silently acknowledging the unspoken tension.
On their way to the airport, George’s hand lightly touched Y/N’s thigh in the back of the taxi, which sent a spark between them. She gripped his hand tightly, her knuckles white, and he knew she felt the same desperation. The flight home was torture; each minute seated in the plane was a silent plea for satisfaction.
The feeling only grew more intense once they got to their flat in London that they shared with Chris and Arthur Hill.
As soon as they both stepped inside and the door shut, George pushed Y/N against the wall and went in for it, kissing her fiercely as he had been wanting to for the past two days. She moaned, overly aroused, the suppressed passion of their vacation reacting.
”I need you,” George repeated softly in her ear, his teeth lightly touching her tender skin.
Y/N immediately grabbed his chest and shoved him backward with such force that it made him stumble. “No, not here!” she replied with a passion that radiated throughout her body.
George stared at her, his expression feral and filled with desire. “Let them hear,” he whispered, the possessiveness clear in his voice. “Make sure they understand that they belong to me.”
Y/N’s breath caught at the blatant demand in his voice. She realized he was correct; they had to give in now; they couldn't wait anymore. They fumbled down the hall, their clothes torn off in a frenzy as they moved. The door to their room banged shut, making the flat resound with the sound.
Their kisses became more passionate as they collapsed onto the bed, desperate to make contact and to take possession of each other. George’s hands traveled all over her, familiarizing themselves with every bump and hollow, every plane and line. It walked its long fingers up her dress, past her hips, his eyes locked with her the whole time.
In his mind, George was already preparing a symphony of sensation for them to get erotically lost in. He wanted to feel her completely, hear the moans of passion, as he thrusts in her. The idea of giving into their desires, giving in to their perverse passion was like a drug to his mind; he became dizzy with all the feelings that stirred his inner conscience.
Y/N’s legs tightened around his waist as he placed her on the bed; the springs of the mattress squeaked gently. He did not mind if the whole house heard them; what mattered to him the most was the present, the touch of her body. Their lips met once more; this time he reached down near her hips and touched the softness of her thighs through the delicate material of her underwear.
“You are stunning, so, so beautiful,” he murmured huskily, running his eyes over the curves of her figure. " I dreamt about this every night."
Too excited to breathe properly, Y/N stared at him, her breasts rising and falling rapidly. "I wanna know what you’ve been dreaming about." She whispered seductively into his ear.
George tried to hide the darkness in his eyes as he whispered against her ear, leaning closer to her. ”I’ve dreamt of you open and spread for me, begging me to take you,” he said as his hand traveled higher up her thigh. “I have dreamt of your sweet cries echoing in the room as I continue to fuck you until you cum all over my cock.“
Y/N’s core tightened at the sound of his voice, a thrill of desire pulsating through her. She reached out her fingers around his hard erection, the warmth of it pulsating with his carnal need. “And what do you want now?” she whispered, her lips quivering with lust.
Obsession blazed in George’s gaze, his eyes fixed fiercely on hers as if he desired nothing else in this world. “Now,” he growled, the desire saturating his voice, “it is time to turn these dreams into reality.” Placing himself at her pussy, the head of his cock lightly pressing against her moist lips. “Are you ready for me?”
Again, Y/N’s eyes rolled back, and she let out a small moan. “Oh, much more than ready,” she exclaimed, burying her fingers into his muscles as he thrust deep into her. The feel of him inside of her was something she was yearning for. She moaned as she felt the fullness in her stomach.
The room was filled with their lovemaking: the sound of skin against skin, the creak of the mattress, the ragged panting. It was sweet music that only the two of them heard—an opera that unfolded within the confines of the room they both occupied. The zeal of their love deepened with every touch, with every kiss and every murmured endearment they exchanged.
”Scream for me,” George encouraged, his words heavy with passion as he thrust into her. His large palms were covetous, grasping her, possessing her, as if he had to stake out his claim on her.
Y/N closed her eyes, surrendering to his dominance effortlessly. She threw back her head, her nipples rubbing against his bare skin, and cried out as he hit the spot within her that seemed to make her shudder with delight. It was a sound that rang through the silence of the flat, a proclamation of happiness that appeared to shiver the pillars of their existence.
At the sound of her moans George began to rotate his hips even more exaggerated. He could sense it constricting around him, her thighs clamping around his middle as she clung to him. The pressure was intense, the tension that had accumulated on their trip was finally being set free, and George felt that he was close. He stretched one hand towards her, and his fingers quickly located her clit, pressing on it firmly but lightly.
"You are so wet," he whispered with a throaty growl that revealed how much he desired me. "So fucking wet for me."
Y/N blinked slowly, and her eyes were wide with desire as she gazed up at him. “More,” she pleaded, sulky and breathy, her tone sending a bolt of pleasure straight to his cock. "Tell me what you want to do to me, George."
Panting heavily, George followed the demand to release, his voice turning into a deep and monstrous growl. “I want to fuck you until you cannot walk straight,” he whispered, his hips thrusting into her with renewed vigor as the bed frame creaked. “I want to tear you apart and hear you scream my name as if it is the most important thing in the whole wide world.”
Y/N’s eyes rolled back in her head, her body reacting to his every word. "Harder," she begged, digging her nails into his back. "I want it all, George. Every inch of you."
George felt his stroke become more strained, his words dirty to the rhythm of their bodies. "You take it all in," he told her, his voice a whisper. "Every fucking inch." She felt him stiffen against her, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. "You'll come so hard, you'll see fucking stars."
Y/N’s moans grew louder, filling the room with the sweet sound of her pleasure. "I'm so close," she admitted, her voice shaky and hoarse. "I'm going to cum all over your cock."
George's eyes darkened with desire at her words. "Do it," he demanded, his voice a rough command. "Cum for me, baby. Show me how much you need it."
Y/N’s body reacted to his command, her orgasm crashing over her like a wave. She screamed his name, her walls clamped together, her nails driving into his back. The feeling was too much, too perfect, and he knew this was just the beginning of their reunion.
"Yeah," George sighed, letting his release run out. "That's it, baby. Take it all." He leaned over and captured her lips in a crushing kiss, drowning out her screams as their bodies moved in perfect unison. The words that left his lips were a mixture of love and lust, a promise of all the dirty things he wanted to do to her.
"I'm going to fill you up," he whispered, his teeth brushing against her earlobe. “I want to hear you beg for more. Tell me to never stop fucking you.”
Y/N gasped, the words sending shivers down her spine. “Yes,” she gasped. Her voice was barely audible over the sound of their bodies clashing. “I need you, George.”
He moaned, and his voice echoed in her chest. “You are so fuckable,” he muttered, his hips thrusting deeper into her with every thrust. “I love how you feel this way, so wet, so hot, so perfect.”
Y/N's eyes rolled back into her head as she felt the pressure increase again. With her core tightening around him, "Come on, darling," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of their bodies slapping together. “I want to feel you fill me completely.”
Those words were like a catalyst for George. His body responded to the primal urge to fill her up. To mark her as his own, he thrusted one last time. His cock throbbed as he released his seed deep inside her. The feeling was almost overwhelming. A sense of ownership that sent shock waves through his body.
Y/N felt it too. Her body trembled with pleasure as he poured into her. It was a time of pure connection. Moments that seem to last forever.
"Fuck," George said to himself, planting his head on her shoulder. "That was…"
"Perfect," Y/N told him precisely. Her body was still trembling with the shivers of pleasure. Together, they lolled there for a moment, their hearts beating as one, their breathing the only sound in the room.
The following days raced by in a haze of lust and gratification; every opportunity they got, George and Y/N would find a remote spot to give in to their insatiable lust for each other. It could be a quickie in the kitchen or a marathon in their locked-door bedroom listening to music. Whatever it was, they made the most out of it.
*****
Taglist~
@gvf23 @xxkatxgracexx @kneelforloki
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tikosblogg · 2 days
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Fuck you
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stellayuta · 3 days
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Racing Hearts! - F1 Driver! Gojo Satoru (A LOTG spinoff) - Part 2
Part 1
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synopsis: Ferrari sensation Gojo Satoru dominates headlines and social media with his unmatched driving prowess and intriguing personal life. Yet, beneath the surface, Gojo harbors a secret that could shake up the F1 world. An unrelenting F1 journalist, determined to unearth the truth, becomes his unexpected adversary—one who might finally expose the enigma that is Gojo Satoru.
content: mdni/18+, formula one x jujutsu kaisen, afab!reader, eventual enemies to lovers, angst, themes of isolation, mental health themes, swearing, suggestive themes
author's note: I've decided that we all deserve F1 Gojo as much as we deserved F1 Yuta. Hope the jjk and formula one fans enjoy this. This will be much more drama packed than LOTG. Keep following along!
word count: 1.8k
Gojo Satoru knew that the weight on his abdomen was off by a pound or two. Had you lost weight?
"Wake up, already" you coo at him teasingly. "You're such a sloth, 'Toru."
"Mmmm...." Gojo stretches his neck back to its limit and places his hands on either side of your hips. "Five more minutes."
Gojo opens his eyes a little to see you perched on his crotch comfortably. He likes the view. Annoying little leech Y/N, her spaghetti strap falling off on one shoulder, her satiny dress bunching up under her breasts.
"It's media day, you have to wake up!"
"You wake up too. Don't you have work on media day." Satoru groans. "Wear something red."
"Red?" your voice suddenly turns darker. "Shouldn't I be wearing teal?"
Gojo furrows his brows and looks at you. "What d'ya mean?"
"Satoru Gojo, aren't you abandoning Ferrari and shifting to Mercedes?" you cock your head to the side as Gojo's eyes pop open like glowing bulbs as he realizes what you are saying.
"N-no. It's not... How did you know?"
"I know everything... and soon, everyone will." you whisper as you lean down to place your lips on his, your silhouette melting away into the air as the room goes dark.
The sharp ringing of his 6AM alarm slaps Gojo awake.
For a minute he lays there, his breath on a high tempo, unsure of where he is. He looks around for any sign of you - a shoe, a dress, a lipstick. Nothing. You were a dream.
A nightmare.
He slaps his cheeks, trying to normalize his breaths. "Wake up, Satoru!" he tells himself, much like you did, in his dream.
Gojo sits up in bed, ruffling his white hair and blinking at the slivers of early morning light creeping through the hotel curtains. The cool, sterile silence of his Monaco penthouse is replaced by the humid buzz of Singapore. The thin layer of sweat on his skin serves as an immediate reminder that he’s far from home.
Gojo rolls out of bed, stretching his long limbs as he paces to the window. The view outside reveals the glittering skyline, the bustling preparations for the Singapore Grand Prix starting below. The Marina Bay Sands glimmers in the distance, but Gojo's mind is elsewhere.
The weight of the upcoming media day hangs over him like a storm cloud. As one of Ferrari's marquee drivers, he knows every question will be a potential landmine, especially after yet another disappointing season without a championship. Every reporter will try to pull the truth out of him. There will be questions about his future at Ferrari.
"You’re really losing it, Satoru." he mutters as he heads to the bathroom to splash cold water on his face. "Dreaming about that leech? Are you really that freaked out?" His reflection in the mirror stares back at him, mocking him with that same charismatic grin he's perfected for the cameras.
He pats his face dry with a crisp white towel, then tosses it aside, grabbing his phone to check the time—6:15 AM. He had about forty-five minutes before the media onslaught would begin.
Breakfast first, he thinks, as he throws on a Ferrari polo and a pair of sunglasses, slipping effortlessly into his public persona.
"Smile for your lovers!" He tells himself. "Smile, or they won't have a nice day!" He tugs at the corners of his mouth, coaching himself.
In the hotel’s bustling breakfast area, the scent of freshly brewed coffee mingles with the warm aroma of pastries and eggs. Gojo grabs a plate and scans the room for Yuji Itadori, his teammate. Sure enough, he spots Yuji already sitting at a corner table, enthusiastically chatting with some team engineers, gesturing wildly with a piece of toast in his hand. His face glows with enthusiasm when he sees Gojo walking towards them.
"Sensei!!!!" he yelps out, extending his hands towards Gojo.
"For fuck's sake, I've only taught you for two days, when you were a rookie."
"Whatever. Gojo sensei it is!" Yuji says, shaking his head like a puppy.
"How come you're up this early though? I was about to walk up to your room and create a scene." Yuji comments mischievously.
"Media day. No choice, right?" Gojo says, sliding into the seat next to Yuji. He wouldn't tell him about the dream. Or about the teal.
He gives a casual nod to the engineers, who quickly retreat to give the two drivers their space.
Yuji digs into a bowl of fruit, talking between bites. "You ready for it? They’re probably gonna hammer us about the car upgrades again. If I hear one more question about tire degradation, I might throw a pizza slice at them, mamma mia!"
"That's a sad rendition of the Italian mannerisms." Gojo comments, raising an eyebrow.
Before the playful banter can go any further, Gojo finds his phone vibrating.
—this time, a reminder about the team's pre-media meeting. He stands, adjusting his sunglasses, already slipping into the character the world knows him as.
"C'mon, Yuji. Let’s get this show started."
-
Gojo stood just outside the press conference room, one hand resting against the cool wall as he took a slow, deliberate breath. The air inside the venue was a mixture of anticipation and tension, thick enough to taste.
He entered the press conference room, his signature confident smirk in place, but beneath it, for the first time in his career, he felt something foreign—nerves. The weight of the rumors, the nightmare from this morning, and the pressure of yet another championship slipping away all collided in his mind. His sunglasses remained perched on his nose, shielding his eyes from the bright flashes of cameras. He took his seat at the front of the room, the Ferrari emblem standing bold and bright against his chest. The other drivers filed in slowly, taking their places for the press conference. Geto Suguru from Red Bull sat to his left, already engaged in conversation with one of the FIA officials, while Yuta Okkotsu and Inumaki Toge from Mercedes filled the spots on the far side. The media room was packed, buzzing with anticipation.
The moderator cleared his throat, signaling the start of the event. Gojo knew his turn would come first—being Ferrari’s star driver in the midst of swirling headlines made him the immediate focus.
“Gojo Satoru,” the moderator began, his voice cutting through the ambient chatter. “There have been several rumors about your future with Ferrari. Could you tell us if there's any truth to the reports linking you to a potential move to Mercedes next season?”
Gojo cleared his throat, trying to find his usual rhythm. “You know, I’ve heard the rumors too,” he began, flashing a grin at the reporters. “But I think people have been watching too much Netflix. Ferrari’s my team, and I’m fully focused on bringing home the championship for them. Anything else is just… background noise.”
Lies. Straight through his teeth. Sheer lies.
He tried not to but he made a split second eye contact with Mercedes' team principal - Toto Wolff, who nodded at him.
The reporters scribbled furiously, cameras clicking nonstop. It was a polished answer, the kind Gojo had given a thousand times before, but something in his chest remained unsettled.
The moderator then aimed his next arrow at Okkotsu's heart.
"Regardless of Mr. Satoru's answers, how do you feel about him as a potential teammate for next year's season, Mr. Yuta?"
Yuta looked slightly taken aback by the question. He took one swift glance at Inumaki and said - "It is up to the team. I have good rapport with Toge, here. I'm sure I'll do well with Satoru although, it will be sad to see my dear friend, Toge leave."
A diplomatic answer. Expected from Yuta.
The next question snapped Gojo back to reality.
“Gojo, with Ferrari’s recent struggles, do you think you still have what it takes to win a championship this season?” one reporter asked, clearly digging for tension.
But it wasn't the words, it was the voice that shook Gojo up. It was the same lips kissing him in his dream this morning. Gojo Satoru jerks back into his chair.
"I-I-"
"Do you think Ferrari have a good reason to keep you in?" you press, furrowing your brows. The reporters around you sense this strange animosity brewing between the two of you and start mumbling among themselves.
At that moment, Gojo feels utterly alone in the room.
"We will do whatever it takes to win! That is Ferrari's way of doing things!" a voice cuts through the silence. It is Ferrari's number 2 - Yuji.
A calmness takes over Gojo after Yuji's declaration.
Gojo leans back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other as he flashed a cheeky grin. “Do I think I still have what it takes? Come on, have you seen me race?” He let the laughter ripple through the room before continuing, his voice a touch more serious. “Look, the season’s not over yet. We’ve had some ups and downs, sure. But if anyone can turn this around, it’s me. Ferrari’s still in the fight.” He adds.
"Well then, I wish you two all the very best!" you say as you back out from the front row of reporters.
Good. You made them say that.
Gojo sat back in his chair, still trying to steady himself. The press conference had moved on, and the questions were now aimed at other drivers—strategies, tire management, technical updates—but the tension in his chest refused to settle. His mind raced, replaying the brief but intense exchange between the two of you.
He was shaken. Not by the technical questions being lobbed his way earlier, but by your presence, by that strange animosity that had crackled in the air. You weren’t just another reporter; there was something more. You had unsettled him in a way no one else had, and he couldn’t figure out why.
Across the room, the Mercedes team principals exchanged quiet words, their glances occasionally darting toward Gojo. Even though the spotlight had shifted to Yuta, who answered the questions with his usual calm professionalism, Gojo could sense the eyes watching him from all corners of the room.
Meanwhile, you stood among the other reporters, your pen idly tapping against your notepad, but your eyes were fixed on Gojo. You could feel it too—something was brewing in the background. The whispers about his potential move to Mercedes weren’t just rumors; they were part of a larger plan, something carefully orchestrated.
You weren’t sure how deep it went or who exactly was pulling the strings, but you knew one thing: Gojo couldn’t leave Ferrari. He belonged there. The thought of him jumping ship to Mercedes, of abandoning the prancing horse in its time of need, didn’t sit right with you. Something wasn’t adding up, and you felt the need to protect him.
With your job on the line, if you must.
You owe the timid boy from seven years ago, his face freshly red from his first race. You owe him that much.
To be continued...
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graysnetwork · 8 hours
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Older Keegan
Summary: Keegan's always a gentleman who loves to take care of you—everywhere...
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Thinking about OLDER KEEGAN who was out on the town when he met you. A beautiful young lady who was the right amount of funny, beautiful, and respectful.
He got your number and you two talked for three days before he asked you on a date.
He took you out to an expensive restaurant and acted like a gentleman for the whole night. He paid for everything, held the doors open for you, made sure your feet didn’t hurt when you two walked around in the park.
Then you two started going out more frequently and he asked to be official after a month and half.
And you finally realized the gentleman act wasn’t an act, it was just him.
He was respectful, kind, doting, helpful, caring, hot…
Although the age difference, he didn’t mind, it was only 9 years after all…
He takes you out every two weeks to a nice restaurant, buys you flowers all the time, buys you whatever you want. He absolutely loves you and wouldn’t trade you for the world.
He went 32 years without truly falling in love and now he’s finally got it—he’s never letting go.
WARNINGS: Sex, oral (f!receiving), booty things…
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OLDER KEEGAN who loves to give more than receive, especially in bed.
He loves to eat you out.
He holds your hand when he makes you sit on his face—which is his favorite place to have you.
But he does love having you laid back since it's easier to flip you over…
“Sh-shit, keegan!” You gasped, grinding against him. He pushed his face even closer to your cunt, he was so obsessed with you. “So beautiful… you needed this, huh?” Keegan growled, he loved talking to your pussy—to be fair it was begging for attention despite your overstimulation.
“So perfect, so pretty” He whispered, kissing your lips gently, gently pushing his tongue between them and licking gently, giving soft attention to your clit.
“Tastes so good” he whispered as your juices coat his tongue.
He only gives you a few moments to catch your breath before he manhandles you, flipping you over and swiping his tongue along your cunt again.
Keegan’s never been one for much oral sex, but after hearing how sweet you sounded when you moaned and whimpered, he fell in love with it.
He never thought about eating ass before either, he had no care in the world for it. The porn was fine but he never actually had the urge to do it…not until you.
“Keegan!” “Sweetheart” he mutters before lapping at your tight hole.
“Fuck” he groans, pulling away and leaving red splotches across your ass. He smirks as he listens to your moans. “You like that, pretty girl?” he teases before burying his face back in between your asscheeks.
He would be the happiest man on earth if he could stay here forever, listening to those sweet sounds escape your mouth was like his own—erotic—heaven.
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dervampireprince · 2 days
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youtube
ASMR | Baldur's Gate 3 - Astarion x Listener SFW Bathing With Astarion
[M4A] [Established relationship] [Bathing] [Water SFX]
A version without the sound effects is available on Patreon for the familiar and fledgling tiers. Based on a Patreon request. MoonMelancholia asked "Astarion and listener taking a bath together so he can enjoy the warmth he doesn't have anymore since he is undead and they pamper eachother."
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Old public spicy audios on sound gasm (link in pinned post). 2 Exclusive spicy audios on Patreon every month. I also stream on Twitch every week @ dervampireprince . [minors + ageless blogs dni. this blog is for 18+ only.] [do not repost/reupload/edit any of my content]
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marrziy · 3 days
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Uma migalha só pra dar o gosto 👀 - 🔞
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wh1spyz · 2 days
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⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚ LET ME LOVE YOU
P1HARMONY hyung line when they accidentally confess to you
a/n : sorry if these lowkey suck.. i ran out of ideas...
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KEEHO and you loved shopping together. it was a routine for both of you since you were absolute shopaholics, so might as well share the experience together, no?
you were both strolling around the mall, several bags in his grasp despite your insistence that you could carry a few bags (he wouldn't listen, of course, since he was just as stubborn as you). your eyes lock on a certain jewelry shop, a glimmer in your eyes as your eyes lock on a pair of gorgeous earrings and keeho notices your intense stare.
though, you quickly saw the price tag of a few items on display, and your eyes widened in shock, and you groaned.
"god! why are all the pretty things expensive these days..." you mumble, continuing to walk until keeho grabbed your hand and interlocked it with his.
"you want the earrings right?" he says, looking at you with a smile that brightened up your day even more than his amazing offer. but regardless, you nodded eagerly.
you both walked into the store, your eyes wandering to the other things, but you knew it was out of your budget, and you were grateful with what keeho was buying you anyways. once you reached the cash register with the earrings, the cashier inspected the both of you.
"are you two a couple?" she says, and you shake your head no.
"nope!" you say, a bit too quick for keeho's liking (but that was only because you were getting embarrassed).
"maybe we should be, princess..." keeho mumbles, continuing to grab his card from his pocket and pay for the pair of earrings, not realizing his comment until he looks up from his wallet and sees your widened eyes and flushed face.
"..."
"ah, said that outloud didn't i?"
THEO had a habit of going to this small, corner cafe near his apartment whether it was just to get a small cup of coffee, a pastry, or just to intake the smell of the cafe, he would go almost everyday. you were always there as well, leading the two of you to become friends.
you eventually arrived a bit later than you usually do, and you bumped into theo in the middle of the street.
"ah, y/n! youre a bit late today, no?" he says, with a soft smile and a laugh.
"oh shut up, i just came back from a date, thats all." you said, rolling your eyes.
after you said that, theo's face seemed.. sad? upset even, and you were just confused. was it because he had a bad day? did you say something? was it the date that made him upset?
"hey, whats up? you look upset.." you say, placing a hand on his shoulder.
theo sighs, looking a bit annoyed.
"its nothing, just cant believe that someone got to take you out on a date before me.."
JIUNG was the one of the smartest kids in your school, but he was a prime target for bullies. he was constantly getting picked on and bullied by others in his class, but he was unable to defend himself.
that was the case, until you came along.
you were a new transfer, and immediately picked up on how badly he was being treated, and defended him constantly.
whether it would be someone trying to throw paper balls at him, or trying to hurt or ridicule him in the halls, you were always there. this lead to you both becoming best friends, telling eachother everything.
well, almost everything.
and with your help, he eventually ended up making a few friends.
you and jiung were having a short study session for your upcoming exam, but it quickly just became a truth or dare session for the two of you.
"ok jiung, truth or dare?"
he thinks for a moment before answering.
"dare? i guess..."
your eyes widened and you smile, and jiung knows he just made a mistake.
"call your crush, right now. and confess."
his eyes widened, and his face flushed a bright red. he had told you he was friends with his crush, so he couldn't get out of this situation.
he sighed, scrolling through a few of his contacts, debating on which one to call to decieve you into thinking it was someone else, before accidentally clicking on your contact, thinking it was someone else (due to how similar the contact names were) and called you.
your phone rang, and you both looked at eachother with wide eyes.
"shit."
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urdreamydoodles · 22 hours
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X-Men x Reader (Part.1)
They accidentally hurt you (Part.1)
You're accidentally hurt during a moment of loss of control by your powerful partners
Characters: Logan Howlett, Remy LeBeau, Kurt Wagner, Scott Summers, Erik Lehnsherr, Bobby Drake, Wade Wilson, Warren Worthington III, Jean Grey & Rogue
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Logan Howlett (Wolverine)
It happened so fast you barely registered the pain. One minute you were training with Logan in the Danger Room, sparring as usual, the two of you enjoying the playful back-and-forth of dodging each other's hits. Logan was holding back, as he always did, but that wild intensity still gleamed in his eyes—a part of him that would never fully shut off. You loved that about him. But then, in a split second, something shifted. His movements were too fast, too fierce. Before you could react, his claws were out, and the sharp edge caught your arm.
You gasped as a searing pain shot through your body, clutching your arm as you stumbled back. Blood dripped down your skin, the deep cut immediately soaking through your sleeve. For a moment, Logan just stood there, wide-eyed, his breath caught in his throat. The claws retracted instantly, and you saw the horror in his face as he processed what he had done.
“Darlin’… oh God, no. I didn’t mean—” His voice was rough, like gravel, choked with disbelief and panic. He was on you in a second, dropping to his knees beside you and gently taking your arm in his hands, careful not to hurt you further. You winced at the touch, but the pain wasn’t what hurt most. It was the look on Logan’s face—like he had broken something irreplaceable between you.
“I’m fine,” you whispered, though your voice was shaky. “It was an accident.”
But Logan wasn’t hearing it. His hands trembled as he held your arm, his head lowered like he was ashamed to even look at you. “I should’ve been more careful. Damn it, Y/N. I never should’ve… I should’ve known better.”
You reached out with your free hand, cupping his rough, scruffy cheek to make him look at you. “Logan, it’s okay. You didn’t mean to. I know you’d never hurt me on purpose.”
But the guilt in his eyes didn’t fade. His jaw tightened, and for a moment, you thought he might pull away, retreat back into that place he went when he was ashamed of himself, afraid of losing control. But instead, he leaned into your touch, closing his eyes as if drawing strength from you. “I can’t lose you, Y/N,” he muttered. “I can’t… I couldn’t live with myself if I did.”
You smiled softly, despite the throbbing pain in your arm. “You won’t. I’m right here, Logan. Always.”
His eyes opened, and in them, you saw the raw vulnerability that he so rarely let anyone see. He pulled you close, his arms wrapping around you carefully, protectively. “I’ll fix this,” he whispered into your hair, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ll make it right.”
And in that moment, as you leaned into his embrace, you knew he would.
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Remy LeBeau (Gambit)
It started as a typical night in the mansion—Remy was showing off as usual, flicking cards across the room with that charming grin of his, teasing you with sly winks. You sat on the couch, amused but unimpressed, knowing his routine far too well by now. But you loved watching him in his element, loved the way his eyes lit up with that mischievous energy whenever he was around you. It was intoxicating.
“Y’know, chérie, if you keep lookin’ at me like that, I might have to take you out for another round of cards.” His voice dripped with playful flirtation as he tossed another charged card into the air.
You rolled your eyes, leaning back on the couch. “Remy, you know I always beat you.”
He laughed, and in that moment, he flicked his wrist to toss another card—except this time, something went wrong. Maybe he misjudged the charge, or maybe it was just bad luck, but the card shot towards you too fast, too charged, and before you could react, it exploded with a small burst of kinetic energy right in front of you.
The force knocked you off the couch, sending you tumbling onto the floor with a sharp yelp of pain. Your arm burned where the blast had hit, and you groaned as you tried to sit up, clutching the now-aching limb.
“Y/N!” Remy’s voice was filled with panic as he rushed to your side, dropping to his knees beside you. His hands hovered over you, unsure where to touch, as if he was afraid of hurting you more. “Chérie, I’m so sorry, I didn’t—God, I didn’t mean to do that.”
You winced, blinking back tears as you pressed a hand to your arm. “It’s okay, Remy… just a little burn. I’ll live.”
But Remy wasn’t having any of it. His normally cocky expression was gone, replaced with genuine worry as he gently helped you sit up. “Let me see,” he said softly, carefully pulling your hand away from the burn on your arm. His fingers were gentle as they inspected the damage, his eyes dark with regret. “Merde, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’d never hurt you, you know that, right?”
You nodded, offering him a small smile despite the pain. “I know. It was an accident.”
But he still looked haunted, his jaw tight as he gingerly cradled your arm. “Still… I should’ve been more careful. Should’ve been payin’ more attention.”
You placed your other hand on his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heart beneath your palm. “Remy, really, I’m okay. It’s not that bad.”
He let out a shaky breath, his shoulders slumping with relief, though the guilt still lingered in his eyes. “I don’t deserve you, chérie,” he muttered, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “You’re too good to me.”
You chuckled, wincing slightly at the movement. “You better believe it.”
But even as you tried to make light of it, Remy’s hands never left your skin, as if he needed to feel that you were still there, still with him. And in that moment, you knew that no matter what, he would always be there to protect you—even from himself.
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Kurt Wagner (Nightcrawler)
You had always loved watching Kurt move—the way he seemed to dance across the air, teleporting with ease, his body a blur of grace and power. You were training together, and though you weren’t nearly as agile as him, you tried your best to keep up, determined to prove that you could hold your own.
But then, in a blink, Kurt disappeared—teleporting just out of your reach as you swung your fist. You spun around, ready to block him when he reappeared, but you miscalculated, and before you could react, his tail whipped out, striking you in the ribs with more force than he intended.
The air was knocked out of you, and you stumbled back, clutching your side as pain radiated through your body. You gasped for breath, wincing as you sank to the ground, your chest heaving.
“Y/N!” Kurt’s voice was frantic, and in an instant, he was kneeling beside you, his golden eyes wide with panic. “Oh mein Gott, I didn’t mean—are you hurt?”
You couldn’t speak for a moment, too focused on catching your breath, but when you finally looked up at him, you saw the sheer horror on his face. He reached out, his hand trembling as he gently touched your side, where his tail had struck you. “I’m so sorry. I should have been more careful.”
You tried to smile, though the pain made it difficult. “It’s okay, Kurt. You didn’t mean to.”
His brow furrowed, his eyes filled with guilt as he gently helped you sit up. “I never wanted to hurt you. I’m so sorry.”
You leaned into him, resting your head against his shoulder as you caught your breath. “I know. It was an accident. I’ll be fine.”
But Kurt shook his head, his tail curling around your waist in a protective gesture. “I should have been more gentle. I forget how strong I am sometimes.”
You chuckled softly, wincing at the pain in your ribs. “I think you forget that you’re not the only one with superpowers.”
He smiled weakly, his hand cupping your cheek as he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. “Ja, but I’m supposed to protect you. Not hurt you.”
You sighed, leaning into his touch. “You do protect me. Every day.”
Kurt’s golden eyes softened, and he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close. “I will never let anything happen to you, Y/N. I swear it.”
And as you rested in his embrace, the pain in your ribs forgotten for the moment, you knew that no matter what, Kurt would always be there for you—his love for you stronger than any force in the world.
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Scott Summers (Cyclops)
The sun had just started to set, casting an orange glow across the grounds of Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters. You and Scott were outside, sparring as part of your usual training routine. Scott was always serious when it came to training, which you both admired and found frustrating at times. He had such control over his abilities, never letting his optic blasts get out of hand—except today, something was off. He was more intense than usual, perhaps trying to push you to your limits, or maybe his mind was somewhere else.
You dodged a series of his blasts, your body fluid and graceful as you maneuvered across the field. You were teasing him lightly, enjoying the way his focus made him that much more determined. “Come on, Summers, is that all you’ve got?” you called out, your smile playful, though your heart raced with the thrill of the challenge.
Scott’s jaw clenched in response, his visor glowing red as he prepared to shoot another blast. You saw the energy build in his eyes, felt the air shift around you. But something went wrong. The blast was too powerful, larger than any you’d seen him use in training, and before you could react, the beam struck you hard in the chest, sending you flying backward across the field.
The pain hit you instantly, searing through your body as you hit the ground with a force that knocked the wind out of you. You gasped, clutching your chest, the world spinning around you as you tried to process what had just happened. You could barely breathe, the shock and pain overwhelming your senses.
“Y/N!” Scott’s voice was filled with panic, and within moments, he was by your side, falling to his knees as he reached for you. His visor dimmed as he tried to assess the damage, his hands hovering over your body, afraid to touch you in case he hurt you more. “I’m so sorry, I—God, I didn’t mean to. Are you okay?”
You tried to respond, but the words caught in your throat, a sharp pain running through your chest with every breath. Scott’s eyes were wild with fear behind his visor, his face pale as he gently touched your arm, his fingers trembling.
“I lost control,” he whispered, his voice thick with guilt. “I wasn’t paying attention. I didn’t… I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
You managed to shake your head, your breathing shallow as you tried to reassure him. “I know… it was an accident, Scott.”
But Scott wasn’t listening. His hands moved to your shoulders, carefully pulling you into his arms, cradling you as if you were made of glass. “I should have been more careful. I should have… I could have killed you.”
Tears stung at your eyes, both from the pain and from seeing him like this—so afraid, so broken. You reached up, placing a hand on his cheek, feeling the stubble beneath your fingers. “I’m okay,” you whispered, though the words came out weak. “I’m okay, Scott.”
But he shook his head, his grip on you tightening slightly as if he was afraid you would slip away from him. “I can’t lose you, Y/N. I can’t… I won’t let anything happen to you again.”
You smiled weakly, resting your head against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your ear. “You won’t. I’m still here.”
And as he held you close, his heart pounding with fear and love, you knew that Scott would never forgive himself for this, even though you already had. He would spend the rest of his life making sure you were safe, even if it meant holding back from the one thing he feared the most—losing control.
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Erik Lehnsherr (Magneto)
The battlefield was chaos, metal flying through the air as Erik used his powers to dismantle the enemy’s weapons, tearing through their defenses with a fury that left you breathless. You fought alongside him, your movements sharp and precise as you took down opponent after opponent, the two of you moving like a well-oiled machine. But in the midst of the battle, something went wrong—something that neither of you saw coming.
Erik was focused, his hands outstretched as he bent the metal around him to his will. You were too close, though, too caught up in the fight to notice how close you had drifted to his range of control. Suddenly, a piece of sharp metal flew toward you, faster than you could react. It struck you in the side, tearing through your skin with a force that knocked you to the ground.
The pain was immediate, white-hot and searing through your body as you gasped for air, clutching your side where blood had already begun to pool. You tried to move, but the pain was too much, your vision blurring as you struggled to stay conscious.
“Y/N!” Erik’s voice cut through the noise of battle, filled with a panic you had never heard from him before. In an instant, the metal around you dropped to the ground as he rushed to your side, falling to his knees beside you. His hands hovered over the wound, his face pale as he tried to assess the damage. “Oh, no… no, no, no. I didn’t mean to… I didn’t see you.”
You groaned, the pain making it hard to focus as you looked up at him, his face twisted with guilt and fear. “Erik… I’m fine,” you managed to choke out, though you knew it wasn’t true.
He shook his head, his hands pressing down gently on the wound in a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding. “This is my fault,” he muttered, his voice thick with self-loathing. “I should have been more careful. I never should have let you get this close.”
You winced, reaching up to touch his face, your fingers brushing against his cheek. “Erik… it was an accident.”
But he wasn’t hearing you. His eyes were dark with regret, his jaw clenched as he tried to control the rising panic in his chest. “No,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “I should have protected you.”
Tears stung at your eyes as you watched him, the man who had always been so strong, so sure of himself, now broken and afraid. You could see the fear in his eyes, the fear of losing you, of not being able to save you this time. “You did,” you whispered, your voice weak. “You always do.”
He shook his head again, his hands trembling as he continued to press against the wound, his heart pounding in his chest. “I won’t let you die,” he muttered, his voice filled with a desperation you had never heard from him before. “I won’t.”
And as you lay there in his arms, the pain slowly fading away as darkness crept in at the edges of your vision, you knew that Erik would move heaven and earth to save you. But in that moment, all you could do was hold onto him, knowing that no matter what happened, you were loved.
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Bobby Drake (Iceman)
You and Bobby had always been a team, whether it was on the battlefield or just in life. His easygoing nature balanced out your more serious demeanor, and together, you were unstoppable. Today was no different—you were fighting alongside the X-Men, taking down the latest threat to mutantkind with the precision of a well-practiced team.
But in the heat of battle, accidents happen. Bobby had just formed an ice slide, using it to send an opponent flying across the battlefield when he lost control for just a split second. The slide shifted, sending a sharp shard of ice flying toward you. You didn’t see it coming until it was too late.
The ice struck your leg, cutting deep into the muscle and sending you crashing to the ground with a cry of pain. The cold immediately numbed the area, but the pain was still there, sharp and unrelenting as you clutched your leg, trying to stop the bleeding.
Bobby’s heart stopped the moment he saw you fall. “Y/N!” He was at your side in an instant, his face pale with shock and guilt. His hands hovered over the wound, his breath coming in short, panicked bursts. “I didn’t—God, I didn’t mean to. I’m so sorry.”
You winced, trying to push through the pain as you looked up at him. “Bobby, it’s okay… just an accident.”
But Bobby wasn’t listening. His hands were shaking as he tried to freeze the wound, slowing the bleeding with his powers. “I should’ve been more careful,” he muttered, his voice thick with guilt. “I should’ve been paying more attention.”
You groaned, your leg throbbing as the ice numbed the pain. “Bobby, it’s fine. It’s not that bad.”
But Bobby wasn’t convinced. His blue eyes were filled with fear as he carefully wrapped his arms around you, lifting you off the ground with ease. “I’m taking you back to the mansion,” he said firmly, his voice trembling slightly. “We’re getting you patched up.”
You didn’t argue, the pain too much for you to resist as you leaned into his embrace. “Okay,” you whispered, your head resting against his chest as he carried you away from the battlefield.
And as you drifted in and out of consciousness, you could feel the guilt radiating off of him, the fear that he had hurt you, even though you knew it was an accident. But in that moment, all you could do was hold onto him, knowing that no matter what happened, Bobby would always be there to protect you.
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Wade Wilson (Deadpool)
You’ve always known that being with Wade came with a certain level of risk. Sure, he was fun, witty, and had a charm that kept you laughing no matter what—but he was also chaotic, reckless, and had an unhealthy obsession with danger. You loved him for all of it. Even the crazy stunts that had your heart in your throat. But this time… things went too far.
It was supposed to be a simple mission. Wade had assured you of that when he convinced you to join him. “Come on, babe, it’ll be a piece of cake,” he’d said with a grin. “Just a few bad guys, a few guns, and then we’re out. Easy peasy!”
Of course, nothing with Wade is ever “easy peasy.”
You were both knee-deep in a firefight, bullets flying around you as Wade expertly sliced through enemies with his katanas, making sarcastic comments with every swing. You were holding your own, taking down attackers with precision, trusting Wade to watch your back like always. But as the fight escalated, so did Wade’s recklessness.
He was laughing, spinning through the air with a grenade in hand, yelling something about “making it rain” before tossing it toward a group of enemies. Except… it wasn’t just the enemies in the blast radius.
You saw the grenade land just a few feet away from where you were crouched behind cover. Time seemed to slow as realization hit. The explosion was deafening, the force of it sending you flying backward, crashing hard into the concrete wall behind you. Pain exploded through your body, a sharp, burning sensation spreading from your side where the shrapnel had torn through your skin.
The world around you blurred, the sounds of battle fading as you gasped for breath, clutching your side as blood seeped between your fingers. You could barely move, your limbs heavy, the pain overwhelming every sense.
“Y/N!” Wade’s voice cut through the haze, suddenly filled with panic. Within seconds, he was kneeling beside you, his usual carefree attitude gone, replaced with genuine fear. His hands hovered over you, shaking as he tried to figure out what to do. “Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit… babe, I… I didn’t… I didn’t mean to—”
You tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t come, your chest tightening with every breath. Wade’s face twisted with guilt and fear, his mask pushed up just enough to reveal the raw emotion on his face. He pressed his hands against the wound, trying to stop the bleeding, but he was shaking too much to be effective.
“Don’t you die on me, Y/N,” he muttered, his voice trembling. “Don’t you dare. I swear I’ll kill everyone here if you—if you don’t…”
You reached up, managing to brush your fingers against his cheek. “Wade…” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “It’s okay…”
“It’s not okay!” Wade shouted, his voice cracking. “I—God, I’m such an idiot! I should’ve been more careful! I never should’ve—”
Tears stung your eyes as you watched him, the man who never took anything seriously, now completely falling apart because of you. You knew he blamed himself, even though you didn’t. It was an accident, a risk that came with being with someone like him. But seeing him like this, so afraid of losing you, broke your heart.
“I’m sorry,” Wade whispered, his voice barely above a whisper now. “I’m so sorry, baby.”
You squeezed his hand weakly, managing a small smile through the pain. “I’m still here, Wade.”
And as the world around you faded into darkness, you held onto that small bit of reassurance—that no matter how reckless he was, Wade Wilson loved you more than anything. And he’d fight to the ends of the earth to keep you safe.
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Warren Worthington III (Angel)
Flying with Warren had always been one of your favorite things. There was something freeing about soaring through the sky with him, the wind rushing through your hair as you clung to his warm, muscular frame. His wings, beautiful and powerful, were like an extension of him—graceful, protective, and strong.
You trusted Warren implicitly. He’d never let you fall before, always keeping you close to him when you flew together. But today, something went wrong. It was supposed to be just another evening flight, the two of you escaping the chaos of the world below to find solace in the clouds. You had no idea it would end the way it did.
You were high up, the city below you nothing more than a blur of lights. Warren held you close as he flew, his arms wrapped around you, his wings beating rhythmically as you both enjoyed the peaceful moment. But suddenly, there was a shift in the air, and Warren’s hold on you loosened.
You gasped as you felt yourself slip from his grasp, your heart lurching in your chest as you plummeted toward the ground below. The wind roared in your ears, and for a split second, you thought this was it—that you were going to die.
But then Warren was there, his arms catching you just before you hit the ground, his wings flaring out as he desperately tried to slow your fall. You hit the ground hard, pain exploding through your body as you landed awkwardly on your side, your breath knocked out of you. The world spun around you as you groaned in pain, clutching your ribs where the impact had been the worst.
“Y/N!” Warren’s voice was filled with panic as he knelt beside you, his wings folding back as he reached for you. His hands hovered over you, unsure of where to touch without hurting you more. “Oh God, I—are you okay? I didn’t mean to… I lost my grip, I… I’m so sorry.”
You winced, trying to breathe through the pain, but each breath was a struggle. “Warren… I’m okay,” you managed to choke out, though the pain said otherwise.
Warren’s face twisted with guilt, his usually calm and composed demeanor shattered as he looked at you. “No, you’re not,” he muttered, his voice thick with self-loathing. “I should’ve been more careful. I never should’ve… I almost…”
Tears stung at your eyes as you watched him, the man who always seemed so invincible, now broken and afraid because of what he’d done. You knew he blamed himself, even though you didn’t. It was an accident, something that could’ve happened to anyone. But seeing him like this—so shaken, so vulnerable—made your heart ache.
“I’ve got you,” Warren whispered, his voice trembling as he carefully pulled you into his arms, cradling you against his chest. “I’m not letting go again. I swear.”
You leaned into him, your body aching but your heart full as you listened to his heartbeat, strong and steady beneath you. “I know,” you whispered, closing your eyes as the pain slowly began to fade. “I trust you, Warren.”
And as he held you close, his wings wrapping around you protectively, you knew that no matter what happened, Warren would never let anything hurt you again. Not even himself.
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Jean Grey (Phoenix)
Being with Jean was like being wrapped in warmth and light, the love you shared radiating between you in ways that went beyond the physical. Her telepathy meant that she always knew what you were thinking, what you were feeling, and that connection made your bond stronger than you ever thought possible.
But sometimes, her powers were unpredictable. Sometimes, when her emotions got the best of her, things would slip.
It had been a stressful day for Jean. The team had just come back from a difficult mission, and you could feel the weight of it bearing down on her. You tried to comfort her, to be there for her like you always were, but Jean was lost in her own head, overwhelmed by the flood of thoughts and emotions around her.
"Jean," you called softly, stepping closer to her as she stood in the center of the room, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. "Talk to me."
She didn't respond at first, her eyes closed as she tried to quiet the noise in her mind. You could feel the tension rolling off of her in waves, and you knew something was wrong. Before you could say anything else, though, Jean's eyes snapped open, glowing faintly with the power of the Phoenix that lived within her.
"Y/N, I—" she started, her voice shaking, but before she could finish, a surge of telekinetic energy burst from her, slamming into you without warning.
The force sent you flying across the room, your body colliding hard with the wall before crumpling to the floor. Pain shot through your spine as you gasped for breath, struggling to make sense of what had just happened. Your vision blurred for a moment, the edges darkening as you fought to stay conscious.
"Y/N!" Jean's voice was filled with horror as she rushed to your side, her telekinetic powers immediately pulling you into her arms before you could fall any further. "Oh God, I didn’t mean to—I didn’t—"
You groaned, clutching your side where the pain was the worst, but you forced yourself to look up at her. Her face was pale, her eyes wide and brimming with tears, her hands trembling as she held you.
"Jean…" you whispered, your voice weak as the pain pulsed through you. "It's… it's okay."
She shook her head violently, tears spilling down her cheeks. "No, it's not! I hurt you! I—my powers—I lost control and—" Her voice cracked as she choked back a sob, her grip tightening around you. "I’m so sorry, Y/N. I didn't mean to…"
You reached up, brushing your fingers against her cheek. "I know. I know you didn’t mean to."
Jean closed her eyes, her tears falling onto your skin as she leaned into your touch. "I can’t… I can’t lose control like that," she whispered. "I can't risk hurting you. I love you too much…"
You smiled weakly, your thumb gently wiping away her tears. "Jean, I trust you. You’re the strongest person I know. And I know you’d never hurt me on purpose."
She opened her eyes, looking down at you with so much love and pain in her gaze that it made your heart ache. "I’m scared," she admitted, her voice trembling. "What if I can’t control it next time? What if the Phoenix—"
You shook your head, cutting her off. "We’ll figure it out. Together. You don’t have to do this alone, Jean."
Jean let out a shaky breath, her arms wrapping around you protectively as she held you close, her forehead resting against yours. "Thank you," she whispered. "I don’t deserve you."
You smiled, your hand resting against her chest, feeling the steady beat of her heart beneath your palm. "Yes, you do. You always have."
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Rogue (Anna Marie)
Loving Rogue was like holding a flame in your hands—beautiful, intense, and dangerous. But you had never feared her. Not once. Despite her worries about her powers, despite the distance she tried to put between you for your own safety, you had never doubted that you could make this work. You loved her, and she loved you, and that was all that mattered.
Still, Rogue was always afraid that one day, her powers would get out of control. And today, her fear became reality.
You were in the training room, helping her practice her control, something you did often. It wasn’t an official Danger Room session, just the two of you. Rogue had been getting better, learning to control her skin’s power-draining abilities, learning to hold back. But it was still a work in progress.
You’d been sparring, teasing each other with light-hearted jabs, when it happened. Her glove slipped during a fast block, and her bare hand grazed your wrist.
The sensation was instant. You felt the strength drain from your body, your energy slipping away like water through your fingers. Your knees buckled, and you crumpled to the floor, your vision darkening around the edges. You could hear Rogue’s panicked voice, but it was distant, muffled.
“Y/N!” Her voice cracked as she rushed to your side, pulling her gloves back on with trembling hands. “Oh God, oh God, Ah didn’t mean to! Please, wake up, sugah, please!”
You blinked, the world coming back into focus as the wave of exhaustion began to fade. Rogue knelt beside you, her hands hovering over you but not touching, her green eyes wide with terror.
“Ah hurt ya,” she whispered, her accent thicker than usual, her voice trembling. “Ah didn’t mean to, Ah swear! Ah was bein’ careful, Ah—”
“Rogue…” you croaked, reaching up weakly to grab her wrist. “It’s okay. I’m okay.”
She shook her head, tears pooling in her eyes. “No, it’s not okay! Ah coulda killed ya. Ah almost did!”
You struggled to sit up, and Rogue immediately helped you, her hands steady but her eyes full of guilt. “You didn’t,” you said softly. “You didn’t, and that’s what matters.”
Rogue’s lower lip trembled as she looked at you, her usually strong demeanor cracking. “Ah can’t keep riskin’ your life like this. Ah can’t control it, and Ah don’t want to hurt ya again.”
You cupped her cheek, your thumb brushing away a tear. “You’re not going to lose me, Rogue. I’m not afraid of you.”
Her breath hitched, and she leaned into your touch, closing her eyes as a tear slipped down her cheek. “Ah love ya too much to lose ya.”
“And I love you too much to leave,” you whispered, pressing your forehead to hers. “We’ll figure this out. Together.”
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bunnis-monsters · 5 months
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NSFW
Vampire lover that can’t drink your blood without you keeping his cock warm.
He has to be balls deep in your pussy, otherwise he gets all hard and cums in his pants just from one sip of your blood.
It’s just way less messy to already have his cock buried in your cunt, and he doesn’t like to waste his seed. He’s a powerful vampire that needs an heir, that sperm is valuable!!
So every time he needs to feed, he pushes your expensive panties to the side and sits you on his cock, content to cum inside of you.
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velvetydream · 8 months
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꒰ :🥀 [ Till death do us part ] ”♡ᵎ꒱ˀˀ ↷ ⋯
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Summary : What if Alastors dear little darling wife, his partner in crime, the person he thought he'd never see again, turns up with Mimzy on the day of the visit of the big boss of hell.
Pairing : Alastor x fem! Reader
Word count : 1899 Words
Genre : Fluff , Drama , Angst
Warnings ➵ Mentions of death, you're shorter than
Vaggie, possessive Alastor, swearing
Prequel -> > The radio star lost <
a/n : I love this trope ngl, tried to not make him to much out of character, hope it worked.. T T
Also I'm rather new to Hazbin Hotel, so I say sorry if anythings seems wrong or out of character! ><
┌───────────────────────── ·  ·  ·  · ♡
The whole hotel was a bit chaotic right now, Lucifer himself would be visiting in just a bit and Charlie wanted everything to be perfect. Colorful decorations were hanging everywhere, a banner was hung up for welcoming the king of hell, how does one even welcome the king of hell into their hotel? Charlie was probably the most stressed of all, but Vaggie did her best to calm her nervous wreck of a girlfriend down.
The moment Lucifer stepped into the hotel was meant to make everything go down, Alastor and his Ego had somehow always a snarky remark against Lucifer. Charlie tried her best to keep them apart, introducing her other friends, before she announced how she would be needing his help. And again the banter between the king of hell and the radio demon started all over again. As if throwing insults at each other before wasn't enough already, now they were pulling at Charlie left and right, like two babies fighting over a toy.
But all things come to an end, which Charlie was thankful for right now, as Mimzy, apparently a friend of Alastor, which was interesting to know he even had any, came barging in with a grand entrance. As the woman now settles down at the bar, talking with the others, Alastor and Charlie took Lucifer on a walk around, Husker disappearing for a second too, but soon joining them at the bar again, a scowl on his face, but something else, undescribable behind his eyes.
A bang was heard through the whole hotel as the entrance door was slammed open and heard could be an angry voice. "MIMZY! You little bitch!" A demon, a slight bit shorter than Vaggie probably, walked in. A scowl evident on the face, as her eyes scan over the place, before falling on the woman she was looking for. "How dare you leave me in the shit like that?! You've got it coming if those sharks don't kill you, I certainly will!" Ignoring the questioning looks of Angel and Husker, you stomp over to the blonde, ready to yank at her hair, when suddenly a bit of debris was thrown through the window and landed beside you, barely missing you by a hair. "The fuck?" The demon's head craned around, looking out the window and there they were, those fuckers Mimzy was in debt to.
You didn't really have time to react much, as three people stormed into the entrance hall, all you could catch was a glimpse of red before the person ran outside, screams of the sharks could be heard, at least those were finally taken care of.
The loan sharks were gone and fought off quickly by that person, his voice now directed to Mimzy, your own eyes on her yourself with a scowl. She and that red demon apparently knew each other quite well, as Mimzy was walking to the door, you finally really looked at the demon. He had short red and black hair, ears sat atop his head, despite scowling Mimzy he was smiling, though a sinister smile it seems. His attire was almost completely red too, a cane was clutched in his hands, as he watched Mimzy walk off, you could only make out a small part of his face. The man seemed so familiar as if you had known him for a long time.. Your heart was running a mile right now, it was getting hard to breathe, and then...
"Thank you Alastor, really.." The long-haired blonde spoke up.. That name, it couldn't be right? Mimzy would've told you, she knew him, she would've definitely told you.. right? You must be mistaken right now.. Your eyes were fixated on the man called Alastor, the voices and sounds around you were all a mush, drowned out as your brain was going all around. Now that you could see his face, he definitely had some resemblance to him.. to your late husband, who had died before you. You were his assistant, his partner in crime, when the news hit you that he was shot, it broke your heart, but still, you continued on alone, killing. That's probably what also got you to hell, well sooner than later you were figured out and soon arrived here in hell.
"Yo smiles, this girly is gawking at you for minutes now." Slowly voices were coming back to you, the white spider beside you talked, pointing his thumb at you, the red-haired now meeting your eyes, his ears straightening and standing alert like the ones of a deer caught in headlight. What irony if he was your Alastor, the irony of dooming him with deer-like features, after getting shot assumed for a deer while hiding one of the many bodies. That day you decided to let him go alone, oh if you just hadn't done that, maybe you both would be alive or you would've at least arrived together in hell.
Alastor was taking slow steps to you, the smile on his face looking strained, yet it never disappeared, his hand was reaching out for you but stopped. Eyes moving over your form, taking in everything. Resemblance to his wife evident, but.. how did he never notice you before? Had he ever met you, walked past, maybe even taken a second glance but dismissed this feeling he has right now.
Swiftly he grabs your wrist, dragging you behind him, ignoring the calls of his name of the other residents, his mind plagued by one only thought, more like one only person.. you.
Stumbling behind him, his grip rather firm on your wrist, yet it felt comforting as if you knew he would never hurt you. Not in your lifetime and also not now in your afterlife. Eyes watching the back of his head, you were wondering what expression his face harbors right now. Was he happy? Was he confused? Disappointed? Maybe he knew where you were all this time but didn't want to meet you. No, he wasn't like this. He may have been distant sometimes while alive, but in the end, he was always a darling to you. Taking care of you, just as he vowed on your wedding day. A distant memory, yet one of the most beautiful ones you have.
A door was opened and as you were pulled inside, the door closed. Steps echoed through the room, you noticed a forest on the other side of the room, but that didn't rather faze you, eyes on him again.. and him only. "Al-" You were interrupted by laughter, the man before you was hugging himself, his arms around him, yet you still weren't able to see his face. "D-Do you know.. How often have I thought about you?!" His voice was loud, a static sound like from a radio accompanied it. One of his hands was tearing at his hair now. "That bitch never told me... I'll make sure to kill her for that.. She kept you from me.." The laughter got even louder, as if the man before you was going insane.
This behavior was nothing new to you, he used to be like this, high on adrenalin when another murder was successful.. Or when he was close to being figured out by the police and detectives, yet he always slipped away right through their incapable fingers.
"I always wondered what happened to you, if you grew old with someone new.." If you were able to see his face right now, you would be able to see the sinister yet possessive smile on his face, his eyes darting around the room.
This all ended in a second when he felt a soft hand on his. He knew this hand, he also knew the person it belonged to like the front of his pocket. "I would never, I carried on alone in your memories, yet I was never as skilled as you darling, so sooner than later they connected all the dots to me." A low chuckle could be heard again, the static radio sound calmed down again too. The tall man slowly turned around now, his hand engulfing your own, his fingers softly running over your own, before he linked them together. How he had missed this feeling, despite having a distaste for people touching him, you were different. Your touch felt warm, like the summer sun kissing his skin, it felt comforting.
"I've missed you mon amour.." His voice was soft, probably the softest it had ever been since he had arrived in hell. His hand guides yours up to his lips, as he closes his eyes and presses a soft kiss to the back of your hand, a smile, now softer, on his lips. He was never one for kissing you on the lips, he definitely favored kissing your hand, like the gentleman he has always been. "I figured with how you were talking seconds ago my dear.." A soft smile was creeping up onto your lips too, mirroring his own one. Red eyes open again, your hand still pressed to his face, but now he was rather holding your hand to his cheek. "Oh how I wished I could've stayed with you my darling, we would've been so successful.." Giggling at his words, with him at your side, you probably would have been going for a long time. "But who says we can't be successful now?" A smirk etched its way onto your husband's face, oh how he loved your daring little mind, always thirsting for blood. With you by his side again now, he would definitely be able to get everything done that he wanted.
"Shall we go back? I want to meet your friends properly." Wanting to pull away your hand, he softly gives you a tug, your head landing on his chest now. Wide eyes look the the side now, as you weren't really able to move, his arms having snaked around you and his chin resting on your head. This was unusual much physical contact, but figured that you hadn't seen each other for multiple decades he yearned for your touch just a slight bit. Your arms lying around him, embracing the hug. "Let's just stay here a few minutes more, we got enough time to introduce you to everyone down there but for now.. let me have you for myself." Nodding softly, your head rests on his chest, as your eyes close and you simply enjoy the presence of your dearly beloved husband.
"What do you mean 'married to smiles'?!" Angel, as he was introduced to you, shouted from his place on the couch now, staring at you flabbergasted. "We've been married for quite a few years before his death." Smiling you answered his question. Alastor didn't like all the attention you were getting, but sooner than later he would have you all to himself again when you two go back to his cozy hotel room or the radio tower. "So you two fu-" Angel wasn't even able to finish his question before he shut himself up as he noticed the look on Alastors face. This time he would've been dead for sure if he finished that question.
Overall everyone invited you happily into their little hotel family, it was amazing. Charlie immediately took a liking to you and if you're being honest she quickly was viewed by you like a daughter.
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cutielando · 2 months
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Hi lactation and breeding kink with max pls!!!!!
breeding | m.v.
warnings!!: smut, p in v sex, lactation kink, breeding kin, mentions of post-partum body insecurities
my masterlist
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Max was absolutely feral about you.
He had thought that he couldn’t resist you before, when you were hot and sexy and all that he desired.
But then you got pregnant, and in his eyes, you were hotter and sexier 10 times over.
So sexy that he was thinking of knocking you up again, only a mere couple of months after you gave birth to your son.
You would be wary of that every time you would find a couple of alone moments, the thought of Max getting you pregnant again very present at the back of your mind.
This time was no different.
Your son had just gone down for his afternoon nap, and Max had found the perfect opportunity to love on his woman.
He had you sprawled on the bed underneath him, his shaft deep inside of you while his mouth was all over your chest. He was biting at the skin of your sensitive and full boobs, sucking every time his tongue would glide over your erect and leaking nipples.
"You look so fucking good" Max whispered against your boobs, making you moan and clench around his thick shaft.
"You feel so good" you whimpered out, your hands burying in the hair at the back of his head.
Max never failed to make you feel like the hottest woman in the world to him, especially since you struggled with your self-consciousness during your pregnancy.
But now, how could you not feel like the hottest woman when Max takes such good care of you?
"These tits are so fucking perfect. So full and plump, feeding our child and helping him grow" his attention was fully on your breasts now, his hips slightly slowing down but still thrusting deeply inside of you.
You couldn't form a single thought, the pleasure you were feeling blinding you to everything else. You had been so busy lately with your baby, you hadn't even felt the extent of your need for Max to just make love to you, fuck you like he used to.
Max was sucking on your nipples, pinching and twisting at them until he noticed droplets of milk squirting out of them, something which made him even harder inside of you, his cock swelling against your tight walls.
"This is so fucking hot" he murmured before his mouth dove to your nipples, sucking and sucking until he felt his mouth fill with your delicious milk, listening to your squeals and moans as you became stimulated from your pussy and nipples at the same time.
"Oh my God, Max" you moaned out, arching your back and pushing your boobs in Max's face.
He felt like he was in heaven. His cock was giving you the fuck of your life, his mouth was draining you of your milk and his fingers were now rubbing harsh circles on your clit, the coil inside of you threatening to burst at any moment.
Max's thrust sped up, his orgasm building faster than he had realized. His thumb was rubbing your clit and applying pressure, his mouth was not letting up on your boobs, and the combination just blindsided you as your orgasm ripped through your body, your walls fluttering against his cock which spurred his orgasm on, shooting ropes of cum deep inside of you against your cervix, your mixed moans echoing through the room.
As you slowly came down from your high, Max's soft cock was still buried deep inside of you, keeping his cum as deep as possible, while his mouth was sucking lazily on your boobs, the new taste of your milk already getting him addicted to tasting you.
"You're gonna get me pregnant again if we keep this up" you joked, feeling the vibrations of his chest against your as he looked up at you with mischief in his eyes.
"Oh, I'm counting on it"
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rafesproperty · 2 months
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texting bf!rafe <3 pt. 2
part 1 here
i’m so in love with him ughh
» masterlist
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solomiracle · 8 months
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lucifer catching you doing something stupid and he calls you endearing names/compliments you but in the most exasperated tone
"i trust you're not plotting my downfall with satan and belphie again, right, my beloved lamb?"
"you, the one who outshines all the stars in the sky... the one who takes my breath away with just a glimpse... are seriously going along with mammon's pyramid sceme?"
"my love, my reason for living, my light, my heart, my soul. explain to me why half of the room has been blown up."
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