#i know i have said this before and i will say it again

[becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys]

Clownfall: the Election Cometh

It's a long one, lads. Buckle up, get comfy, but the circus is in town for its final run. Ambient music as you read can be found here or here, take your pick. Get popcorn. Get snacks and water and a blanket.

Are you sitting comfortably?

Wednesday 22nd May

7.12am

Household favourite and queen of our hearts Pippa Crerar of the Guardian (her who did the investigative journalism that revealed PartyGate to the world) reports that UK inflation fell to a mere, paltry 2.3% in April.  The lowest level in three years!  Huzzah! But … still smaller than the decline that was expected. 

Nonetheless, Rishi Sunak and Jeremy Cunt whoops I'm so sorry I meant Cunt haha whoops said it again make a big fuss about how brilliant this news is, and how it shows that they are Good At Maffs after all that trouble with Liz Truss and Kwasi Kwarteng, who defined themselves as being Good At Maffs and then obliterated the economy in a single day.  Remember that! Good times. But hey, look, THIS PM/Grand Vizier combo are great at this! Inflation has fallen! Stop looking at the predicted rate! A fall is still a fall!

Crerar wonders whether people will actually feel better off, though – prices and mortgage rates are still high, after all. Food for thought.

10.04am

Jeremy Hunt is asked on the Today programme whether Sunak will call a general election.

Now, the logic here is that the government is likely to do better in an election if the economy’s improving; which, SunakCunt are now shrieking from the rooftops. So, is now the time? It's a win, and they've had so few of those, but historically people really do like to fall for the right wing = better economy myth... 

BUT – the Tories are doing so very badly in the polls.  Journalists favour the idea of an autumn election.  Tories do better when the weather’s bad, because fewer people go out and vote.

 “Well that’s a matter for the prime minister, it’s not a matter for me,” says Cunt. 

... Well.  Not ruling it out, then? Diddorol.

10.30am

It's Wednesday, aka the date that Tory cabinet ministers have their weekly meeting. They are duly sent the agenda.

There is no mention at all of an election announcement, nor any plan for an election.

Fair enough! 'Twas an idle thought. Plus, it would actually be bad timing from a logistical perspective - David Cameron, Foreign Secretary and Bae of Pigs, is currently flying out to Albania for an important international meeting, and Jeremy Cunt is on TV all day today - ITV next.

12.18pm

Sunak is asked at Prime Minister’s Questions whether he’ll call a general election.  He doesn’t rule it out.

12.56pm

Fun tweet alert!

2.31pm

Pippa Crerar asked Sunak’s press secretary whether he was calling an election.  She refused to comment.

Surely it’s a terrible time to call an election! Everyone hates them!  But suddenly …

A Cabinet meeting is scheduled for 4.15pm.  David Hameron suddenly u-turns in Albania and comes straight back home, his meeting un-met.  Jeremy Cunt cancels his ITV appearance.  The afternoon meeting is cancelled. Number 10 stops responding to journalists.  Manifesto work has stepped up.  Sunak’s chief-of-staff is spotted wearing a suit and tie WHICH IS UNUSUAL.  Senior ministers have spent the last few days doubling down on dividing lines.  And Tory bosses had a meeting this week to discuss how much money they could spend before a summer election.

The UK press sense blood in the water.

3pm

Okay.

There’s something you need to understand:

People suspect Rishi Sunak doesn’t actually want to live in the UK.  He’d prefer to be in California.  He’s here because he’s an MP.

You need to know this to understand this truly historic incident.

Nadine Dorries has produced a good tweet.

...

...

...

No, we all need to sit with this one for a minute

(For the record... to us, that is an excellent joke. But I strongly suspect she wasn't joking and was trying to make a catty accusation instead, which coincidentally appeared like a roast.

Scientists are referring to this as Stopped Clock Syndrome.)

5.17pm

With great dignity, Rishi Sunak stands outside Number 10 and announces a general election on 4 July.

And by “great dignity”, I mean he’s soaked by rain, while “Things Can Only Get Better” plays in the background courtesy of an anti-Tory protestor with a big speaker and a dream; the song adopted by he Labour Party for the 1997 election, where Tony Blair famously won a landslide victory after 18 years of Tory rule. Eventually, the volume of it is raised so high Sunak is, on more than one level, drowned out.

5.37pm

According to Gabriel Pogrund of the Times, Labour can’t believe Number 10 allowed this to happen.

One Labour insider texts: “Umbrellas are woke”

6.06pm

Good tweet alert!

8pm

A later Guardian article reports that Sunak greeted around a hundred Tory activists – still wearing the same rain-soaked trousers from the announcement.

No word at all on why he doesn't have aides capable of fetching him dry trousers. Perhaps those, too, are woke.

8.14pm

A Sky News reporter is at Sunak’s campaign launch.  But, bafflingly, he’s forcibly removed.  Extraordinary scenes

Elanor's Pro Tip: Removing a journalist may not be the best PR move for the start of an election trail.

8.27pm

9.36pm

A GBNews reporter claims that some Tory MPs are trying desperately to replace Sunak as leader in order to call off the general election.  For this to work, they’d need a vote of no confidence before the dissolution of parliament on Thursday 30 May.  Except actually, that would have to happen before the proroguing of parliament on Friday 24 May.

So … this won’t work.  But how very incredible - and hilarious - that they’re trying.

10.39pm

Let's take a look at the evening headlines!

A great start to Sunak’s campaign, with newspapers - including the Tory giant The Telegraph - celebrating the triumphant launch of his campaign:

Well! WHAT a day! Let's see how Thursday goes.

Thursday 23 May

8.00am

The BBC takes a moment to gleefully throw off the shackles of political oppression of the last 12 years to reveal that Rishi Sunak's announcement of a July election, the single most important announcement for a sitting government, the most sensitive and vitally-timed event in their calendar...

Was a total surprise to the rest of the party.

Tory party MPs found out when we did that they were about to have to campaign again. For a snap GE. Three weeks after having just done it for the council elections, in which they experienced the greatest single loss of their councillors in history. Even the damn meeting agenda was fake.

Still. Perhaps this explains the lack of umbrella or trousers.

9.09am

Nigel Farage confirms he will NOT stand at the general election. 

*pause for applause*

That’s because he’s helping Trump get re-elected in the US right now.

*pause for screams*

This is good news for the Tories!  And the rest of Britain, actually (commiserations to America. Please shoot him). Farage’s right-wing populist party - Reform UK - is the spiritual successor to UKIP and the Brexit Party, who’ve been splitting the right-wing vote for years.  Farage is popular; it’s bad news for Reform if he’s not part of their campaign, but simply fantastic news for those of us who think queer folks, women and people of colour deserve human rights.

9.19am

According to BBC News and others, Sunak has hired Isaac Levido, the election strategist behind the Tories’ landslide win in 2019.  Levido knows his stuff, and advised Sunak to stick with an autumn election.

Sunak ignored this advice.  Lol.

9.20am

In the Guardian, Sunak says there WON’T be planes of immigrants flying to Rwanda before the general election.  Good news for those of us who think it’s monstrous to deport immigrants to countries with unsafe governments.  Bad news for Tory voters who were hoping to get racists to vote for them.

Now, this is particularly funny, because promising to deport refugees to Rwanda in spite of overwhelming legal opposition on human rights grounds is probably the single hill that the Tories have chosen to commit genocide on. This bill has been in and out of every court in the land since they promised it in 2019. It's been on again off again more than a tawdry tabloid romance. But, they finally managed to push it through, and the first planes were set to fly in July.

This means! That Sunak's strongest cards going into the election were the drop in inflation, and the Rwanda bill. He could sell it as "In spite of those bleeding heart liberals, we persevered and managed to tenaciously get rid of these browns and thus fulfilled our promise", and the fact that it won't actually affect the immigration numbers wouldn't be clear until after the election. And make no mistake, it is VITAL that those planes fly before any election - quoth one influential Conservative MP on the right of the party to the BBC:

“I know what question you’re going to ask us again and again. "You’ll say we’ve been banging on about Rwanda for years and we’ve only managed to fly one migrant out there - and we paid him to go”.

It took a single day for that gamble to dramatically fail.

Lol. Lmao, even. One might almost say rofl.

9.21am

Sunak is emphasising his own role in managing the economy.

The Guardian’s Rowena Mason points out that it might be better to sell this as a Tory victory rather than a Sunak victory, considering how badly Sunak’s doing as an individual in the polls.

10.45am

I'm obviously giving a lot of attention here to the funniest and most ridiculous stuff, but let’s take a moment to celebrate some genuinely brilliant journalism:

0_o

The whole article’s worth reading. It confirms that at least one more hi-vis wearer was a Tory councillor in disguise (in this case Ben Hall-Evans). Perhaps this is why they started by removing all the real journalists.

12.42pm

Sunak’s campaign takes him to a brewery in Wales!  He attempts some Bonding With The Working Man and asks the workers if they’re excited for the football.

Top tip: if you don’t realise the country you’re in hasn’t qualified for the Euros, maybe don’t even mention the subject.

6.55pm

... here is a new problem. Ish.

As mentioned, three weeks ago, England held local council elections. In that time, the Tories lost over half their councillors; an unprecedented and staggering loss in one event. We are all still bathing in the schadenfreude.

But, many of those then left the party (probably fairly, actually - monsters though Tories are, that cannot have been fun.) But, the way politics in the UK works is that when you vote, you don't vote for the party - you vote for your local representative, and then it's a numbers game as to which party gets to rule. This means, with this sudden last-minute possibly-impulsively-declared-by-one-soggy-madman election now six weeks away, those candidates all need replacing so that the Tories will have a shot at getting the numbers they need to form a majority government.

Channel 4’s Paul McNamara reports that Conservative HQ have emailed asking for candidates in almost 100 seats.  The deadline’s tight for this – and apparently, joining the lengthening list of people who weren't informed of this stupid election plan, Tory associations are livid at being left so unprepared.

Now, a lot of these seats are Labour strongholds, so you don’t necessarily need more than a token Tory candidate for them. Phew! A great relief.

But some of them are actually good Tory seats. Uh oh!  Basildon, Bury St Edmunds, Wellingborough and Rushden …  It’s a bad hit to the Tories to have so little time to find good candidates for these seats.

8.59pm

Labour launch a campaign video.  It’s long, but the message is, “Remember life before the Tories got into power?  Wasn’t it BRILLIANT?”

And to prove how great 2009 was, they’ve included a clip of David Tennant’s Dr Who saying “I don’t want to go.”

Lol.

9.57pm

Filmmaker Richard Cubitt jokily suggests he could stand as a Tory candidate, and immediately defect to Labour as soon as possible once elected.

I don’t know if the deadline’s closed, but I am now speaking to the chat. Lads: the time will never be better. Do it. Tell the Tories you'll stand for them. Immediately defect. You have the opportunity to do the funniest thing. Be the rot in the barrel. The time is now.

ANYWAY. Oh boy. Day one of campaigning was quite bad. Ah well! Onwards and upwards for Wali Heb Broli. Let's see what Friday brings.

And of course: the losses are staggering (100 candidates!), but it could be worse.

At least it's not senior MPs.

Friday 24 May

7.00am

Over 70 MPs confirm they will not be standing for re-election.

7.35am

It’ll be lovely to see this election get rid of some truly awful Tories.  But no need to wait that long!  John Redwood stands down.  I haven't mentioned him before, but let's look at his clownface eggshell.

He opposed reducing the age of consent for homosexuality in 1994 and 1999, he voted to keep Section 28 in 2003, he opposed same sex marriage, he voted to reintroduce the death penalty in 1988, 1990 and 1994, he’s argued against Greta Thunberg over the UK’s climate emissions.

Although English, he became Secretary of State for Wales in 1993, and at a Tory conference, had to mime badly to the Welsh national anthem which he hadn’t bothered learning.  In 1995, he cheated Wales out of a £100 million grant by returning it unspent to the treasury, so it could go back to England.

So, John – if by some fantastically rare chance you’re somehow reading this – it’s wonderful to see you step down.  I wish you a very warm fuck you.  And I hope the rest of your life is absolutely horrible and filled with immeasurable pain. Kisses.

7.58am

Vicky Spratt of the i newspaper announces that, with an election announced, the Renters’ Reform won’t pass.

This is a big deal, actually - this was a rare good promise in the Tories’ 2019 manifesto to protect renters by ending no-fault evictions.  A good promise!  With cross-parliamentary support, only slowed as much as it was because most Tory backbenchers are landlords and so tried to block it. But the fighting raged on, and it was finally agreed.

And now it’s broken.  Wasting months of work by stakeholders, and thus forming another election promise that would have sailed through if only the election hadn't been called for July.

8.09am

Jeremy Corbyn – remember him? Former Labour leader, who was expelled from the Labour party in 2020 – confirms he’ll be standing as an independent.  He’s continued to be a member of Labour despite being an independent MP – but standing against Labour in an election means he’ll have his membership revoked too.

9.26am

So where are we at? How do you reckon the normal Tories in the party are faring? Do you think they're positive of a win? Do you think they expect to lose?

Great Guardian article here:

Highlights - one government minister happened to bump into his equivalent opposition member, and immediately thrust his official folder towards them, saying, “You might as well have this now.”

Another Tory MP hugged a Labour colleague and cast their arm around the room.  “Good luck.  This is all yours.”

One Tory backbencher was asked if it was a good idea to call an election.  “It’s a disaster. I can’t understand it.”

Even when they’re being optimistic, the Tories seem a little glum.  One long-standing MP said: “Of course I’m going to fight it, I don’t believe in just giving up like the prime minister has obviously decided to.”

A former minister raises an interesting point.  It’s not long, after all, since the Tories suffered those major defeats at the local council elections.  That's impacted the number of candidates, of course - but, local canvassing is largely done, on all parts of the political spectrum, but activist volunteers.

That loss was three weeks ago. If you were a volunteer who just spent weeks knocking on the doors of your neighbours and community, trying to convince them to vote for the dead horse, and then lost – maybe you won’t feel like hitting the streets again so soon. Maybe you'd prefer to be able to meet your neighbours' eyes when you bump into them in the bread slicing queue at Morrisons.

Some MPs have even admitted they won’t be cancelling holiday plans to fight the election.  On top of that, there's over 70 MPs that have already confirmed they’re quitting and won’t be seeking re-election!!! Absolute scenes.

Interestingly, some anti-Sunak Tories report frustration.  They reckon they were close to calling a vote of no-confidence, in the hopes of replacing Sunak with a different leader.  No idea if this is true – and if true, whether Sunak knew it. But given the panicked speed at which it seems to have been called...

11.08am

The campaign takes Rishi Sunak to the Titanic Quarter, to be interviewed by Belfast Live.

Elanor's Pro Tip: if you’re the leader of a failing political party, maybe don’t let journalists interview you on a site named after history’s most famous sinking ship.

11.57am

How’s the campaign going, Rishi?

Oh, Rishi. Looks like someone else is not meeting anyone's eyes in the bread-slicing queue.

1.12pm

Politics UK reports that 75 Tory MPs are now standing down at the election – the same number of Tories who stood down ahead of the 1997 election.

2.49pm

Sunak’s campaign takes him on board an aeroplane.

Elanor's Pro Tip: if you’re the leader of a failing political party, maybe don’t be photographed in front of an exit sign.

7.07pm

MICHAEL GOVE ANNOUNCES HE’S STANDING DOWN AS AN MP!

I could honestly use that gif like seventeen times in this write up. You can all thank me for my restraint in choosing just one.

The 79th Tory to do so at this election – an all-time record exodus.  Hey gang, would you like to see some familiar names joining him in this?

Theresa May

Sajid Javid

Dominic Raab

Matt Hancock

Ben Wallace

Nadhim Zahawi.

It’s just … not a great sign for the party, is it? That so many prominent MPs don’t reckon it’s worth sticking around.

7.50pm

Hey, remember those parody videos of Hitler getting angry with funny subtitles?  Someone made a good Sunak one:

10.48pm

The Guardian’s Kiran Stacey reports that Sunak will retreat from the campaign trail, spending the next day at home.

Honestly... that's probably best. Let him recover from the bread excitement.

10.50pm

We round off the day with Andrea Leadsom announcing she too is standing down as an MP. Bye, bitch.

WHAT A DAY! Still, Saturday will probably be better.

Saturday 25 May

12am

New episode of Doctor Who drops! It contains Welsh faeries. I later write a post explaining this. You're all welcome. Back to the circus.

10.06am

Good tweet alert!

11.14am

Keir Starmer promises to lower the voting age from 18 to 16 if he wins the election.

2.43pm

Hey remember how David Hameron was supposed to be in Albania? And actually went there? And then had to come back because of Rishi's totally-planned-for election announcement?

The Mirror reports that David Cameron spent £60,000 of taxpayers’ money getting to Albania for that trip.  He was there for 89 minutes, before he had to come back in light of the general election announcement.

This means it cost the country £674 a minute for Cameron to be in Albania for about as long as it takes to watch The Lion King.

6.14pm

Labour and the Tories put candidates forward for 650 seats in a general election.

Of course, that's not quite all of them. The Times’ Patrick Maguire understands that Labour have only 13 candidates left to select, which is pretty good.  The Tories are missing slightly more than that. 

They need to find around 190.

(The number is rising. Chat, you know what to do.)

9.29pm

According to the Telegraph, Theresa May has said if she was still PM she would have used an umbrella to declare the election.

She probably would have, too.

10.11pm

Now then!!! Gather round boys and girls and all the rest!

Remember: the election was called based upon the following main cards in Sunak's hand:

The Rwanda bill

Inflation falling

The Renter's Reform Bill

Inflation fell, but not by as much as it should have. The Rwanda plan fell through a day later. The election itself has blocked the Renter's Reform bill.

Rishi needs a new set of promises stat, in order to shore up votes from his most important bastions of support. What can he offer?

The evening brings the answer!

At 10.11pm - note the time - in spite of having taken the day off, Sunak promises mandatory national service for every 18 year old if he wins the election.  Either a year-long army placement, or a weekend a month volunteering for a year.

Sounds like a good pledge, if you’re hoping to motivate 18-year-olds to vote against you.

10.16pm

The Financial Times’ Jim Pickard reveals that the National Citizen Service (David Cameron’s legacy project) had its funding slashed by two-thirds in a 2022 review of government youth funding - when the chancellor was Rishi Sunak.

Five minutes.  That’s how long it took a journalist to melt Sunak’s new pledge.

Still; Tories never let facts get in the way.

10.27pm

Politics UK reports that leaked documents suggest teenagers would be jailed for refusing this national service.

11.47pm

Sunak's bad ideas generator works hard, but the meme makers of the internet work harder:

Still. Sunday is a day of rest! Hopefully Sunday will be better.

Sunday 26 May

9.50am

Let’s check the Sunday tweets.

Starting to think whoever is in charge of optics for Rishi Sunak may be a Labour plant.

10.21am

Fantastic tweet alert:

I Agree With Gabby

3pm

And then... PLOT TWIST!!!

FT’s Lucy Fisher reports that Sunak’s national service pledge - including assigning up to 30,000 18-year-olds to the military - was rejected this week by one of his own defence ministers.

Defence personnel minister Andrew Murrison warned of a hit to morale, headcount and resources if “potentially unwilling national service recruits” were introduced alongside Britain’s professional armed forces.

EVEN THE ARMY DON'T WANT THIS.

6.47pm

And then:

Incredible story from Gabriel Pogrund of the Times.

St Paul’s School, if you haven't heard of it, is an expensive and famous private school in England somewhere (I forget where and don't care).  As with other private schools, they’d be subject post-election to a Labour plan to remove their VAT exemption.

Tory MP Greg Hands took matters into his own Greg hands, and messaged the school’s parents’ WhatsApp group to try and drum up anti-Labour sentiment.

I can see the logic. These are parents with money, who have chosen to send their children to a private school that often means an easy track into politics generally and the Tory party specifically. I see why he thought he was safe.

Tumblrs, he was not safe.

Parents intervened, complaining about Hands spamming the chat, and claiming his use of the chat was “inappropriate”.

One parent messaged: “Can we stop assuming everyone is a Tory in this group.  A return to more morality, less corruption and more social conscience in British politics is not something to oppose necessarily.”

Another expressed that some parents will “feel it is hard to defend private schools being vat exempt.”

Ouch. Swing and a miss, Greg Hands.

Anyway. New week, new campaigning. I am writing this on Tuesday, and so our tale is nearly at an end for now; so let's see what happened on Monday.

Monday 27 May (Yesterday)

7.40am

Britain's teenagers respond to the national service plan. I love this tweet and the video it reposts:

And here, for your viewing pleasure, is the video:

8.17am

Tory MP Steve Baker (more on him later) actually tweets a public criticism of Sunak’s national service plan.  You might be thinking "Well yes, obviously"! But no! For you see, when approaching elections, parties need to be united. Divided parties generally find it harder to win elections.

Naughty Steve.

8.41am

Foreign Office Minister Anne-Marie Trevelyan, having seen the absolute shambles of Sunak’s campaigning, wakes up this fine Monday morn and invites him to hold her beer.

Appearing on Times Radio, she’s asked whether the parents of teenagers could be prosecuted if the teens refuse to take up national service.

And she doesn’t rule it out.

NO BUT WHAT THE FUCK. WHAT ARE YOU DOING ANNE-MARIE. IS THIS YOUR FIRST DAY OUT OF THE HOUSE.

Parents are NOT prosecuted for any wrongdoing of their ADULT CHILDREN.  How do you not understand this basic legal concept. The answer to that question was “no”!  You say “no” because it makes your party more likely to be elected, and you say “no” because the answer is no.

Oh dear. What a gaffe, as the papers say. Gosh, I really hope Anne-Marie Trevelyan’s gaffe stays contained.

8.56am

The Telegraph duly reports that parents of 18-year-olds might be fined if their children refuse national service.

Anne-Marie Trevelyan’s gaffe did not stay contained.

10.55am

Looks like the Tories are unhappy that the press revealed that Sunak took a day off from campaigning.

But that’s okay, they have a new strategy!  Reported by Politico, they’ve decided to suggest that Keir Starmer is too old to be a good Prime Minister.

They called him “weary” yesterday afternoon;

Tory Party Chair Richard Holden says it’s “bizarre” for Starmer to rest at home the day before a speech (but not for Rishi to - ? You know what, never mind);

A Tory aide tells the Sun that Starmer should be dubbed “Sir Sleepy” (what a Zinger, as those conscripted into national service say);

Another Tory aide calls Starmer “Sleepy Keir” according to the FT.

Keir Starmer is 61 years old.

11.17am

Let's check Tory candidate numbers!!!

Now last we looked it was 190, but obviously, as this is possibly their most urgent priority, they've been working flat out and recruiting across the land and so they have, fair play, managed to reduce that number.

The Spectator therefore reports that the Tories have 12 days to select 160 candidates.  Would you like to see the maths?

This means, on average, they need to select one candidate every 100 minutes.  Which is slightly less time than it takes to watch Toy Story 3.

#ChatYouKnowWhatToDo

12.41pm

The FT’s Lucy Fisher reports that Tory HQ has accidentally sent out an email criticising Tory MPs for failing to campaign, and warning of financial concerns in some seats.

Cannot stress this enough: even if the Tory campaign was going really well and they were predicting a landslide their way, this would be a terrible blow.

5.02pm

The Mirror reports that Tory MP Steve Baker is on holiday in Greece.  That’s pretty irresponsible, isn’t it?  What does Baker have to say for himself?

"The Prime Minister told everyone we could go on holiday and then called a snap election. So I've chosen to do my campaign work in Greece."

… this is the greatest Tory campaign in history.

(And once again... when exactly did you decide to do this, Rishi?)

5.15pm

In an absolutely baffling move whose motives I still cannot entirely fathom, Tory MP Lucy Allan - a repugnant, malignant liar of a woman who once altered an email from a constituent so she could claim it contained a death threat against her - is suspended by the party, for telling voters in her ward to vote for Reform UK instead of the Tories.

...

...

...

...wwwhyyyyyyyyyyyyyy

6.18pm

Good tweet alert! Here's political journalist Jonn Elledge:

6.30pm

Meanwhile, a Tory chooses to contact journalist Theo Usherwood over WhatsApp, criticising the election strategist Isaac Levido:

Now this is particularly interesting, because Levido is the guy who managed to swing the last GE to BlowJo, even though Labour were riding high on Corbyn. And I don't know, maybe he is actually shit at this and all that was luck.

I just... wouldn't have said he was the reason for this one going the way it is. Necessarily.

Finally, let's finish off Monday with a last good tweet:

10.06pm

***

That's all for now, folks! Thank you for reading, enjoy the circus playing out this week!

[endlessthxxghts]

Just One

DBF!Joel Miller x afab!reader | w/c: 819 (she just a baby!)

Summary: You’re still worked up even though Joel’s tapped out for the night. Maybe you need a kiss to satisfy you—a simple, sweet kiss. Right?

Content/Tags: Reader is able-bodied and has female sex anatomy, but is otherwise undescribed. Pussy pronouns (she)!! 18+ MDNI. Making out. Bulge grinding 😋 let me know if there’s anything I missed!

A/N: @pinkypromisepascal and I had a conversation…and then I said I wanted to write a drabble based on what we talked about, to which she said “DO IT.” So I did. Y’all better thank her brain for this too!🙂‍↕️ and to @strang3lov3, thank you for the extra pair of eyes AND THE MOODBOARD!!!😭 I love you both so much. To everyone, I hope you enjoy, all my love xx

masterlist | update blog

It’s been thirty minutes. 

Thirty minutes since Joel had you folded nearly in half, your legs pressed against your torso, the slam of his hips pushing you higher up his mattress. 

Thirty minutes since he made your eyes roll back, throat burning in pleasure. 

Thirty minutes since he wiped you clean and massaged your hips. 

It’s been thirty minutes. 

And he’s knocked the fuck out. 

You sit up in his bed. You’re not here very often. Ever, really. It was by chance you stayed over tonight. So you study the area. Take his space in. The painting and posters above his bed. The nightstand. The white fan sitting on his dresser, pointing directly at him. He runs hot when he sleeps. Too hot. 

Your eyes trace his figure, then. His broad back on display, hips covered by his sheets. 

His face. God, his face. Salt and pepper scruff around the edges, smile lines and furrowed eyebrow lines adorning his face. They’re not as harsh now as he succumbs deeper into his slumber, but they’re present nonetheless. 

His hooked nose sits prettily, the same nose that had you squirming and gasping for air earlier in the night. Your core flutters at the thought. 

You’re looking at his lips now, and you can’t help the way your own forms a smirk. 

“Joel,” you whisper. 

A rock. Unmoving. Unfazed. 

On your knees now, you shuffle to face him. Leaning forward, hand on his shoulder to nudge him, you try again. 

“Joel.” 

“Hm?” his sleepy voice rasps. 

“I need your help,” you respond. 

One eye peels open. His eyebrows move into their natural habitat, furrowed. “What’s wrong, darlin’?” 

You put on your sweetest face. “Can I have a kiss?” 

You stifle a giggle at the daggers being thrown at you. “Jesus,” he mutters. “Have you been up this whole time?” 

“It’s been thirty minutes,” you retort. 

“No, it ain’t—” you gesture to his clock before he can finish his thought. He faces it immediately, throwing his face back into his pillow with an incoherent grumble. “Sleep,” he finally says. 

“I will, sleeping beauty,” you giggle. “Can I please have a kiss first? Just one,” you ask again, lowering your voice an octave, a tone he can never deny. 

He flips himself over, so he’s more on his back now. “It’s never just one.”

“That’s not true,” you fake pout, leaning closer in, letting the tips of your nose dance.

“You said one kiss months ago. Look where that got us.” His breath fans against your lips.

“I don’t see you complaining,” you whisper, your body on fire with this conversation. 

You let your lips finally meet, soft and sweet, but the heat building in your cheeks keeps you from breaking the seal. Without thinking, you climb on top of him, straddling him as your hands find the base of his neck, the length beneath you already beginning to stir. 

You break away for less than a second before you bring your lips to his again, but he’s quick to stop you, a shit-eating grin between his cheeks. “Thought ya said one?” He breathes. 

“Shut up,” you murmur, smashing your lips against his once more as your tongue coasts the expanse of his bottom lip, the taste of you from earlier still lingering. 

“Shit, sugar,” he groans into your mouth, his hips bucking into you on their own accord. “She’s still so needy, ain’t she? That why ya can’t sleep?”

His bulge catches perfectly where you need him most, pulling a whimper from the back of your throat. “Please, baby,” you pant. 

“Told ya ‘s never jus’ one kiss,” he rasps as his heavy hands grab at your waist, guiding your hips into a more frenzied rhythm.

“You’re right,” you cry, eyes clamping shut, nothing but the sweet sounds of your ecstasy blessing his ears. 

Too blissed out to continue kissing him, you bring your lips to his jaw, nipping and licking the places you can reach. With a few harsh grinds of your hips, you’re moaning out into his ear—his partially deaf one, luckily—with millions of white sparkles flashing beneath your eyelids. Joel’s breathing stops at the same moment your body convulses, strangled grunts leaving his throat as he adds to your mess of his boxers. 

“She satisfied, yet?” He hums as you lay across his sweaty chest.

“Mmm,” you pretend to think it over. “I think it’s her turn for a kiss now.” 

Joel scoffs. You can hear his smile with it. 

You lift your head to look him in the eyes, a faux innocence in the way you jut out your bottom lip. “Just one, baby,” you reason with him.

Joel tosses you to your unspoken side of the bed. “Sleep.” 

“But—”

“She’ll get her kiss in the morning.” 

Your eyes nearly pop out at the realization of his words. “G-Goodnight, baby,” you reply quickly. 

“‘S what I thought. G’night, darlin’.”

I would love to hear what you guys think! I love you all so much, thank you for always sticking by my side and supporting me always. You all are my happy place. Wouldn't be where I am without you.🩶

I cannot get myself to write for Joel or for TLOU without mentioning the horrors occurring in Palestine. Please check out the links in my navigation + bio to learn about the situation in Palestine and also learn about some ways in which you can help🇵🇸. Reading and interacting with those links takes 5 minutes of your time at the bare minimum.

[acotarxreader]

Other Worlds

Azriel x reader

Synopsis: Nesta accidentally pulls you from our realm into theirs and a certain Spymaster can't help but be enamoured.

Original Request: "So I was wondering if you could do like Reader is from the modern world but ends up in the ACOTAR world, and ends up like falling in love with one of batboys."

Warnings: Fluff, mentions of cuts from a fall, my silly wordplay

A/N: I loved writing this, it really had me in my silly sense of humor (at one point Azriel is jealous because he thinks Xanax is a person) and just like also so happy to have written my first request! I hope you like it Anon and tolerate my silliness.

------------------------------------------------------------------

“Do you think she’s dead?”

“Hard to say, you fall that height and would expect it” Nesta gently rocked the body back and forth with the sole of her shoe and you groaned.

“This is exactly why you shouldn’t practice without Amren Nesta” Feyre bit out.

“And how was I supposed to know that a human would fall out of the sky? And besides, I did catch her before she hit the ground” Feyre gave a huff to her sister’s bored tone. 

“But not before all the trees Nesta”

“Details, details”

“Rhys is gonna kill you, we have to move her before he finds out” Feyre got level with your marbling body, sticks and leaves sticking out of your hair from your fall through the canopy above. Nesta folded her arms across her chest in protest as Feyre rolled you onto your back, a deep whimper escaping your throat.

“Well she’s not dead”

“For now” Nesta raised an amused eyebrow before rolling her eyes and squatting to lift your feet as Feyre caught your shoulders with her own disapproving look. 

“Her clothes are so odd, is it continent fashion?”

“Hard to say, the material on her legs is so…dense?” Nesta replied, a thumb rolling over the cuff of your jeans, your Doc Marten burying into her sternum.

The two sisters carried your weak body through the hillside towards the cabin they had retreated to for a break from the Illyrians. They reached the humble home after a small uphill climb in the Winter air and gently placed you down on the couch again. The two stood then at the foot of the couch, unsure of what to do next with their new house guest, a thud from outside followed by a swear interrupting their thoughts. 

“Shit it's Azriel with the food supplies you forgot”

“You forgot” Feyre returned

“Whatever, here help me cover her” The two sisters sheathed you in a thick woollen blanket as Azriel pushed through the door causing the females to shoot straight up, standing shoulder to shoulder to try to hide you behind them. 

“Hey, I dropped a bottle of liquor on the path sor- what are you two doing?” he looked suspiciously at the two, plopping the crate of food down by the mouth of the door. 

“Nothing!” their heads snapped to one another at the same time, cursing their simultaneous reply. 

“You two have the same look on your face that Cassian had when he was trying to hide the blood ruby he got from Summer Court after his experiment with arson” he gave a laugh that turned nervous when the females didn’t do the same, another almost panicked glance shared between them. 

“Well if that’s all Az, thanks for coming” Feyre made a quick movement to Azriel, catching his shoulders and turning him back towards the door, Nesta taking a wide stance to try to obscure more of you. 

“Fucking hell” your voice rattled out in pain as you pushed to sit up, the wool sinking down to your lap as your heavy hand found your bleeding head. Azriel’s eyes grew to nearly the width of his skull as he looked frantically between Nesta and Feyre. 

“She did it!” they said in unison again, pointing to one another. 

“Oh Rhys is going to kill you” he whispered angrily, moving to the couch as Nesta sidestepped, throwing an anxious look at Feyre.

“Whe-re the fuck a-m I? What happ-ened?” your hand traced through your thick hair, branches catching in the locks. You squeezed your eyes together tightly, trying to bring the cozy cabin into focus before swinging your legs to the ground and supporting your weight with one arm. Your movement went entirely still as you looked up to find the three members of the Night Court staring at you with matching bewilderment. 

“Am-am I dead?” Your stare landed on Azriel’s wings, conclusions forming quickly.

“No unfortunately not” Feyre elbowed Nesta into the ribs as Azriel analysed your whole figure with his hazel eyes, his shadows swirled around his feet until they wrapped around yours. Your shriek of pure terror caused them to dash back to their master. 

“You're okay!” Azriel tried but it was too late, you were in full panic mode, your system shutting down in utter distress until you felt your blood pressure hit the soles of your feet after hitting the ceiling, sending you into a loss of consciousness. 

“Nice going you big bat, you killed her” Azriel gave a dirty look towards Nesta, her eyes rolling for the thousandth time that day. 

“Send for Madja-”

“-Rhys will kill Nesta for this”

“Well I think her little magic trick will die without her” Feyre folded her arms into her chest, weighing up the options. 

“We could give her the tonic that's here, let her heal without everyone gawking at her at home. I’ll go back with Nesta and explain, by the time we’re here again perhaps she’ll be healed and Amren will be home from her travels and can send her back” 

“And am I supposed to play healer Feyre?”

“Well you have more experience with healing because of the battlefield than us and besides, Nesta isn’t known for her bedside manner” Azriel sighed before rubbing a hand across his face at Feyre’s logic, she showed him how you got here in his head to help her point.

“Okay fine, go but if she dies, I’m not to blame” They nodded in agreement, taking another look at your floppy body before heading for the door with their things, kicking the box of supplies out of the way. 

Azriel lifted your legs slowly back onto the couch before fetching a dish full of mountain water and healing tonic. He hovered the cloth over one of your large gashes that had cut straight through your straight-leg jeans. He looked over your body, unable to hide his curiosity towards the university logo decorating your sweatshirt, the deep purple colouring at the very ends of your hair as well as the multiple pieces of metal piercing through your ear's cartilage. Despite the series of cuts and bruises generously coating you, Azriel believed you might be the most beautiful creature he had ever seen and you were entirely out for the count. 

He sighed, dropping the cloth back into the dish and going to make tea with another healing concoction. He rolled his shoulders back and tucked his wings in as tight as possible to minimise their appearance before gently tapping your shoulder to bring you around. When that didn’t work, he fetched one of Cassian’s training boots and ran it beneath your nose, you stirred immediately. You went to shoot up in shock, his strong steady hand, gently pressing you back down. 

“You’re okay, you…you just fell but you’re okay.” he said as softly as possible, the ease of his voice unable to settle the rising worry across your face. 

“I-I fell?” he gave you a small nod, not entirely a lie he thought to himself. 

“Fucking hell my head-” you once again ran your hands down your face, the dry blood slightly flaking in the movement “-do you have any paracetamol or something?”

“Para-what-almol?” Azriel’s eyebrow raised in question before he reached for the tea he made for you from the small table behind him. You removed your hands from your face and looked towards the squatting Illyrian, taking in the beautiful male in front of you, pain being replaced by embarrassment. You pushed up despite his disapproval look, returning to the same position you were in before you fainted.

“Sorry, I should-I should go? Emm…where are we?” 

“This is Velaris”

“Velentia?! How did I get here?!” You shot to your feet in surprise, the blood rushing and sending you shakenly back to the soft fabric almost as quickly. 

“No, I’m not sure where that is but you’re not there, here take this” he passed the cup with a half laugh and you looked down unconvinced. 

“No thanks man, not here to be poisoned” Azriel scoffed in slight offense as he watched you wince to put it back on the small table. You look down at your freshly ripped jeans, your fingers tracing the fresh wounds. 

“I’m Azriel” His voice brought your eyes back to him as he passed you the soaked cloth, allowing you to run it over the gashes. 

“YN” You gave a small smile back, fighting the singe of the elixir. 

“YN? That’s an odd name”

“You say that as if there’s an Azriel at every petrol station in town” You half laugh, more questions entering Azriel’s head than answers. Azriel rose to his feet and headed into the kitchen with the abandoned groceries as you finished with your leg, starting on your forehead. 

“No paper here or something?” Azriel looked towards you as you took the cabin in in all its glory, Feyre’s artwork the object of your marvelling. 

“They’re Feyre’s, she was here earlier. She went a bit mad up here when she found out Rhysand was her mate”

“Mate? Oh she’s like Australian?”

“What? You speak in riddles” he laughed, joining your side on the couch with his own cup of tea. You looked at it with an air of hunger, not unnoticed by the Spymaster, he looked from the cup to your face. 

“You can drink it YN, it’s not poisoned, here look I’ll take a sip” You watched him take a taste before offering it back to you where you took it from him, its fresh floral taste having an almost reviving effect, you drank it almost one gulp. 

“Now, I’m afraid you can’t go home just y-”

“Fuck I knew it! What’s in this tea?! I’m being kidnapped!” You shot towards the door, almost knocking the dish of water all over the floor, sending Azriel swearing. You reached your exit and with a wave of his hand, Azriel locked it from the inside.

“YN, no one is going to hurt you, you just, this is going to be hard to explain, one of my…friends brought you here by accident” You still tried to pull on the knob of the door, glancing from it to Azriel as he stood to close the distance.

“Stay back! I know self-defence!” Azriel couldn’t hold his laugh at the small human girl before him threateningly looking at him. He went to catch your arm softly, only for you to send your heavy-booted Doc straight into his instep, followed by the base of your palm up and into his nose, the shock of your sudden movement catching him off guard. He groaned slightly reaching for his nose as it bled, missing your hand reaching for the keys in your pocket and the mace on the keychain. Azriel roared at the feeling of the spray of chemicals burning into his eyes, sending him onto the floor writhing in pain.

“Fuck! Fine! Die in the snow!” He shouted out, waving his hand and releasing the door. You hardly heard him, whipping the door back as the now night air lashed in near-freezing gails of icy snow. You fought the tornado of air as you put the oak door between you and it, sliding down the wood to the ground, your body screaming in pain still from the fall. Azriel sat up, still blinking hard to clear the burning liquid. 

“And you thought I’d be the one to use poison” A breathy laugh left him as his red eyes watered and you found yourself matching his smile.

“I promise I won’t kill you, if you don’t kill me” he gave you a genuine look and for some reason you felt such a wave of trust hit you. You agreed, too tired to run from him or face the snow and you rolled your head along the door before looking back at the Illyrian, tracing your eyes along his linen shirt and leather pants

“Are you in a motorbike gang or something?”

“Gods I hope you start making sense soon” he pushed up from the ground, doing his best to not untuck his wings for balance. You looked up at him and reluctantly took the hand he offered, noting the deep scaring covering them like burls on a tree. He followed your eyes to his hands before he gingerly took them back to replace them across his still-stinging eyes. Azriel threw himself back down on the couch and you followed suit.

“I’m sorry about the-” you gestured to your own eyes and he gave a small laugh.

“It’s okay, I’m impressed a human would have such speed, to be honest”

“Human? And what are you a fish?” 

“No” he didn’t return your laughing tone, only reaching for your disregarded cloth and placing it over his eyes. Your hand ran down the side of your jeans until you retrieved your phone, the screen fully destroyed from your dance with the trees. 

“Great” you sighed, throwing it down on the table, Azriel watching the action. 

“Nesta couldn’t save your mirror from the fall?”

“Nesta? Rhysand? Azriel? No one called like Dave around here?” 

“Not really the fashion in Prythian” he smiled.

“Prythian? Like from the children's stories?” you chuckled at him.

“No, Prythian like the realm” he tossed the cloth back into the dish, the red in his eyes subsiding. 

“My mom used to tell me stories about Prythian and these like great bat boy warriors with these really big-big-win…” you trailed off as you looked to see the shape of Azriel’s wings over his shoulder. 

“Really big? Well, thanks for the flattery” He laughed aloud as your face greyed. 

“Fuck, it’s happened, studying for my physics final has finally driven me insane, this is all in my head, a stress-induced dream” Azriel reached to your thigh and gave you a gentle pinch following your matter-of-fact speech, causing you to flinch a little.

“Okay so not a dream…”

“Not a dream, my brother’s lovely ma-wife’s sister, pulled you through a sort of rip in the realm and landed you here…not very carefully might I add” He said softly so as to not have you black out again, you nodded very very slowly to his words. You faced away from him, fixing your stare on the smashed phone, you thought of your physics lectures. The theories of tears in the fabric of time being possible, the possibility of alternative realities, the possibility of unexplored realms before settling finally that this wasn’t a possibility, this was a reality. 

“So, okay, right-” you bit your lip, working through the thought, Azriel trying to push the shiver down his spine away at that action “-okay cool, right, so I’m gonna need like an excuse note or something for the exam and then, right, cool, Xanax maybe”

“Is Xanax a friend of yours who can help?” Your head shot towards Azriel at his genuine question and you let a roar of laughter leave you. 

“Definitely although I don’t think they’re here somehow” you offered with a smirk, Azriel feeling a weird sense of jealousy at not being the object of this smile. 

“Well, we’ll make do and try to get you home” You nodded sheepishly to him.

“Do you not want to go home YN? You seemed pretty eager when you tried to break my nose earlier” he smiled and you gently knocked into his shoulder playfully. 

“I mean…I’m not in a rush to get back to the test” 

“Okay well, it will be a day or two before my friends are back and Rhys has calmed down over Nesta bringing you to greet us so you’ll have time. As for now, care to have something to eat? You can help me make it so we both know neither is trying to poison the other” he gave a light laugh while standing again, and you followed him along to the kitchen. 

For the rest of the night, the both of you spent your time cooking, laughing and teaching one another about your worlds. Azriel explained the Courts, his role and his family’s as well as giving a shortened version of their relationships with one another. In return, you told him about your studies, what Instagram was and how democracy works. Azriel wasn’t sure he’d ever felt such strong feelings towards someone he’d just met before and it confused him almost as much as what microwaves were. 

“Here you go, a glass of our best liquor, you deserve it” Azriel passed you the tumbler as you sat cross-legged on the couch beneath the woollen blanket you were previously hidden under.

“Oh slay”

“No, I didn’t kill anything to get this for you” You almost choked on the drink with the laugh that left you at his confused words. 

“No Azriel it’s like-actually maybe I’ll explain drag culture to you another day” He nodded eagerly at the prospect of learning more, sinking into the couch alongside you with his own drink. 

“So have you girlf-mate type person like Feyre and Rhys?”

“No, no girlf-mate type person-” he teased back and you sighed, clipping him with the pillow from under your elbow “-do you?”

“Nope, to be honest, I don’t think I’ll be missed from home, I lost my parents young and never really found my flock at college either” you shrugged. 

“How could anyone not miss you YN?”

“You have to say that, you’re my captor”

“Actually Nesta captured you, I’m just minding you-” You returned his smirk “-speaking of which, time for sleep, tomorrow they should be back to figuring getting you home for your exam” you whined like a misbehaving child but you’d been fighting off sleep since dinner so agreed with him.

He lead you to his room in the cabin before offering you one of his clean linen shirts and leaving you to sleep. You practically swam in the fabric, with no wings or Illyrian muscles to fill it out, feeling the same way about the colossal bed that you slipped into. You looked up at the ceiling where Feyre had painted delicate little consolations, the day washing over you, had all your prayers finally been answered? You smiled as you gave into the sleep that hunted you all day.

----------------------------------

“We are sending her back!”

“Amren can’t guarantee she’ll end up in her realm, she’s not going anywhere!” You wiped the sleep from your eyes, Azriel's blunt tone waking you from the best sleep of your life.

“She can’t stay here Az!”

“And what if she ends up somewhere a lot worse, she coul-oh YN you’re awake” You looked from the doorway between the two gorgeous Illyrians. 

“This is Rhysand”

“Oh, your majesty I suppose” you did a half bow after stepping closer to the males, a small laugh leaving Rhysand at the action. 

“Don’t flatter him YN”

“YN, flatter me if that would make you happy” he grinned, Azriel rolling his eyes. 

“You’re exactly as described” You shrugged at him, settling down on the couch between where the lllyrians stood

“I would like to apologies for Nesta’s…interuption to your day to day life and more so for…probably being all Nesta when you woke up” Rhysand offered, Azriel folding his arms tightly across his chest as he inspected you closely, you in his shirt may now be his favourite sight. Rhysand watched the slight change in his brothers demanour at your presence, this increasing his worry. 

“Now YN, it’s time we get you back to-”

“-I heard you guys say you can’t say for certain I’ll get home” you cut across Rhysand, his eyes darting back to you, Azriel trying to bury his smirk.

“I’m confident we know how to get you there”

“Okay cool, so Feyre will accompany me” 

“What?” Rhysand bit out.

“Well its just if you’re so sure you’ll get me in the right spot, surely you’ll have no issue allowing Feyre to accompany me yanno, since you’re confident” Azriel lost his battle in holding in his smirk. 

“She’s got you there Rhys, if one of us wouldn’t do it, why should she?”

“Because she doesn’t belong here” Rhysand chewed out, locking eyes with his brother.

“She is sitting right here and she isn’t going near any wormhole or whatever if you’re not sure I’d get there safe” You forced his attention back to your with your sharp words.

“Who said anything about worms?”

“YN has a habit of speaking in riddles” Azriel sat alongside you, giving you a somewhat proud smile, his arm instinctively resting on the back of the couch behind you. 

“YN, I’m sure you’re great but I can almost guarantee that our world is vastly different to yours, it’s a lot to take on for your mortal mind, perhaps we could arrange a home for you in the mortal realm?” you tilted your head side to side weighing up his offer before Azriel replied for you.

“I can teach her our ways, I can school her like you did Feyre” Rhysand sighed out but couldn’t deny the way Azriel looked at you and you at him was deeply familiar to him. 

“Fine, a week, you may stay a week and if it doesn’t work out then the mortal realm it is, we’ll set you up with a nice manor and you’ll live very comfortably”

“Like Downton Abbey?” you teased despite your audience.

“I’m not familiar with that region”

“Is that where the drag culture is?”

“Of sorts” you laughed at Azriel and his quizzical words, his hazel eyes so enamoured by the sight, further cementing Rhysand’s suspicions. Rhysand sighed deeply ensuring you agreed to the terms and to be taught by Azriel before he left to continue to reprimand Nesta. 

------------------------

Over the next week it became abundantly clear that despite being from two different realms, you and Azriel were made for one another. You both had the same humor and intelligence as well as thirst for knowledge. You continued to teach him about your home and he taught you about the new world around you and the more you learned the less you wanted to leave. On your first day in Velaris, you thought your heart may burst with the growing love for the place and even more so for your guide. 

“And then Cass completely blew the building up, I thought the vein was going to burst in Rhysand’s head” Azriel tilted his head back and laughed loudly while you both crossed the bridge of the Sidra, your last official day in the Night Court before you had to decide. Somewhere along the way, Azriel and your hands became interlocked and forgot to separate.

“You live such insane lives here”

“And you could too” he stopped you in your tracks, his eyes warming over your body as he looked down on you, the sinking sun reflecting off of the snow. 

“Maybe with less arson though” he added with a grin you loved so much. 

“Az, I’d love to stay but-”

“-No, just say ‘Az I’d love to stay’ and leave it there” he fought his faltering smile as you looked down at his shoes, both hands held in his now. 

“But Az-” you couldn’t find the end of the sentence, the words lost on Azriel’s lips as they met yours with such searing passion. His mouth slotted over yours with such a perfect fit it was like they were always meant to be there. You stood further on your toes to deepen the kiss as his hands traced around the nape of your neck and yours landed around his torse. You separated when the need for air almost matched the need to never let go. 

“I-I can’t remember the end of my last thought” you laughed lightly and he grinned. “So you’ll stay?”

“I don’t think I was ever going to be able to walk away from you…well not without mace anyways” you smiled back into another kiss, the second of many many more.

----------------------------------

Let Me Know What You Think Friend!?

[barcaatthemoon]

familia ii || alexia putellas x reader ||

a couple of the struggles of your first child with alexia.

part i

alexia brushed her hand against the back of your knuckles. she hadn't taken her eyes off of you for the past hour. out of the corner of your eyes, you could see the way that her body sagged and threatened to fall forward. still, alexia sat dilligently watching over you in the hospital room.

"ale, come here please," you said weakly. alexia's head snapped over to the hospital bed. you had moved over a little, just enough to make room for her to lay with you. alexia knew what you wanted, and she wasn't in any sort of mood to deny you. not after what you had just put yourself through to make her happy.

"are you having trouble sleeping?" alexia's voice was full of concern. she knew that you hated sleeping in new places. that wasn't what was keeping you away, however. alexia's staring and occasional knee-bouncing right next to your bed was the cause of your restlessness.

"cuddle me, please." you pouted as you stared up at alexia. she was more than happy to crawl into the bed with you. almost immediately, both of you fell right asleep in the hospital bed. you don't know how, but you managed to get a good night's sleep all cramped up in alexia's arms.

when the morning came, you had your fair share of visitors in the form of alexia's friends and family. a few friends that you had made stopped by, but your family was too far away to make it on such short notice, not that you expected them to. alexia's family doubled as your family now, especially since you had fallen pregnant.

most of the visitors were just passing through, but mapi, ingrid, alba, and eli stayed all day. they helped alexia move you and the newborn baby home. you had never thought that you'd have such a good support system in your life. they did everything for you except for feed the baby. you noticed that ingrid in particular stayed very close to you and the baby.

"have you ever thought of having a baby with maria?" you asked. ingrid bit her lip as she gave you a small nod. you knew that she was nervous to bring it up again, but you had been watching the way that maria melted whenever ingrid held your daughter. "you should. the two of you are in a good place, and there might be an opening for the apartment across the hall."

"do you really want those two together even more?" ingrid asked as she motioned towards where alexia, mapi, and alba were standing. alexia and mapi had joined up to shove alba back and forth. it was probably more than annoying for alba, but you loved the look on alexia's face as she laughed.

"i don't mind it most of the time. besides, we wouldn't have to be in the same place as them constantly," you reminded ingrid. she did seem to like the sound of that and agreed to look into the apartment across the hallway. they were large apartments, so you wouldn't have any more neighbors on the floor.

…

loud wails seemingly echoed through the hallway of your apartment. it was pitch black outside, the kind that it only ever was in the odd hours of the morning. alexia had gone back to training and her usual duties, so you were taking on a bit more with the baby. that meant you tried to get every late-night feeding or diaper change that came up. tonight wasn't going to be an exception, not with alexia going in for an important meeting in a few hours.

"jaime, baby, what's wrong?" you cooed as you stepped into the nursery. your daughter wouldn't answer, but you hoped that the sound of your voice would work. of course, it hadn't, not even as you said all the things you'd heard alexia say before.

you had carried jaime for nine months, but that girl was obsessed with alexia. at times, you felt like a failure for almost never being able to comfort your baby. in almost all of the books, it had warned about the other parent struggling to make a connection. the thought had never occured to you that it could be the other way around.

"shh, please don't cry," you begged and pleaded with jaime. however, it was too late. you heard alexia's footsteps, and once she had entered the room, jaime seemed to calm down. "i'm so sorry. i-i-," "it's okay, just go lay down. i've got this," alexia said. she took jaime from you and managed to get her down before you had gotten back to the bedroom. alexia wasn't sure what to expect when she got back, but it wasn't for you to be nearly sobbing into your pillow.

alexia got into bed with you and pulled you away from the pillows. her arms felt nice, but you didn't feel like you deserved it. you had one job, one agreed-upon job. you were supposed to take care of the baby, and it felt like you couldn't even do that. alexia was being patient with you, but even her patience had its limits.

"talk to me," alexia ordered. she had been worried about you for the past month and a half. alexia had stayed by your side for the entire offseason, and things should have clicked for you by now, but they hadn't.

"i'm a failure. jaime hates me, i don't get it." this time, you openly sobbed into her shirt. alexia was afraid for a moment that you'd wake the baby with how intense your crying was. she had a meeting that day, but it was going to be pushed back. there was no way she could leave you to do anything on your own when you were so obviously burnt out.

…

"alexia!" you groaned as eli yelled at her daughter. jaime was supposed to be down for tummy time, but alexia had continuously been picking the baby up instead. the doctors said that jaime was healthy, just a bit behind developmentally. you had been a bit beside yourself at the news, and alexia wasn't making it any better. "put her down!"

"mami, she was whining. she hates being down there by herself," alexia tried, but it was no use.

"then go down there with her, but do not pick her up," eli ordered. you hadn't expected eli to play the bad cop with alexia when it came to jaime, but you were grateful for it. alexia had warned you before jaime was even born that eli had been waiting for years to be a grandmother. there was no way she wasn't babying and spoiling her first grandchild, but alexia's mother had surprised you in putting her foot down when alexia wouldn't.

it wasn't surprising to you when alexia got down onto the floor. jaime barely ever seemed to crawl around when the doctors had told you she should be starting to stand up. you had been fighting with alexia about keeping jaime on the floor longer, but alexia always picked her up whenever you weren't looking. she didn't have the chance with eli there watching her like a hawk.

"mami, look at her. she wants to be held." alexia looked genuinely distraught as jaime began to whine a little.

"then you check on her to see if she needs something. there will be trouble if you coddle her for too long," eli warned. alexia brushed the warning off and took jaime into the kitchen to see if she wanted a bottle. "you need to put your foot down with alexia better."

"i don't want to start a fight." you were careful in choosing your words. eli didn't know about the arguments between you and alexia about coddling jaime. alexia had crossed a few lines resulting in you staying over with ingrid while mapi knocked some sense into your wife. "ale just hates to see her upset, that's all."

"how are the two of you doing? alba mentioned that she can't seem to get the two of you to brunch at the same time," eli was gentle with her prodding, but it was still prodding nonetheless.

"we have had some arguments, but nothing too permanent," you told her. eli didn't quite believe you, or at least she didn't believe that you were relaxed about this. she had seen how you and alexia were, how terrified you got whenever alexia seemed a bit annoyed. eli knew that one of your biggest fears was that alexia would leave you.

"if you need help with the big baby, let me know," eli told you. you chuckled a little and nodded. there had been times when you wished that you had eli's help while arguing with alexia. the woman could be acting like an asshole all week, but would immediately be on her best behavior if her mother was there.

…

"mummy!" jaime squealed as she reached for you from alexia's arms. lately, you had been jaime's favorite person, which was making alexia jealous. you could see the way that her jaw clenched as jaime began to scream and wail until you took her out of alexia's arms. "mummy."

"yes, mummy's here," you cooed softly. jaime rested her head against your shoulder as you walked her around. alexia watched from the couch as you got jaime settled down enough to rest in her playpen. once she was down and asleep, you joined alexia on the couch.

"she hates me," alexia grumbled. "i left for a tournament, and now she fucking hates me."

"alexia, she doesn't hate you. she just isn't used to you being back all the time. when you left, she was in shambles, it took a lot to get her to stop crying all the time. you weren't here, so you didn't see how we got to this point," you told her. it was a second too late when you realized that you had said the wrong thing as alexia's face fell.

"yeah, i wasn't here. that's the point," alexia raised her voice at you, something that hadn't happened since she came back. "you told me to leave, and then i had the euros camps. is this what you wanted all along?"

"ale, why would i want jaime to hate you?" you asked her. you hoped that it would help her realize how ridiculous she sounded, but it seemed to do the opposite instead.

"because you were so torn up about before. you and mi madre plotting behind my back. how many times did you go running to her before she told me that i had to go back home with her for a bit?" alexia asked you. she was slowly getting louder and louder. you didn't want to leave jaime in the living room all by herself, but you had to get alexia out of there. you knew she'd follow you to keep the fight going, so you got up and walked to the bedroom. "now you're walking away from me, ridiculous! we aren't done here."

"did you only come back to fight with me and see jaime?" you asked her. alexia paused, not having expected you to bite back. normally, you just sort of took whatever she threw at you until you had a chance to text or call eli or alba. you didn't have the energy to fight and make up with alexia in the same night. "because i can't do that, alexia. i'll go stay with ingrid or something and we'll work out a schedule, but if you are going to act like this, i'm not staying here anymore."

alexia seemed to realize that she had really fucked up because she immediately began to apologize and plead with you. "that's not what i want, (y/n), i swear. when i left, that was my little girl. she adored me, but now she cries when i'm in her arms. it's like she can tell that i've been bad. i'm sorry for snapping at you, i don't know what's wrong with me."

"you're stressed ale. jaime is picking up on the stress. there's nothing wrong with you to make our daughter hate you. she's still your little girl. do you think you can handle staying here while i go to ingrid's for a little while? i just want to calm down," you told her. alexia nodded. you could see that she wanted to hug or kiss you, but knew that you were mad at her. "i love you, ale."

"i love you too. i'll be better, i swear," alexia promised you. you pressed a kiss to her cheek on your way out. alexia ran a hand through her hair, let you leave the apartment, and then went back to watch jaime as she slept.

…

you laid curled up in alexia's arms as mapi laid on the grass with jaime. they were playing some game together, one that they had been playing inside originally. ingrid had shooed them outside at alejandro and manuel's naptime. you smiled as you watched the scene in front of you as mapi and jaime played together with ingrid watching from the porch.

"she's getting so big," alexia whispered in your ear. she ducked her head down a bit to press a kiss to the side of your jaw.

"yes, she is. i think it's the putellas genes. she's got your height," you told her. alexia hummed in agreement. jaime was nearly half a head taller than the other kids her age. she was also the spitting image of alexia, despite having your more reserved nature. next year, she'd be old enough to start with soccer, and alexia was so excited.

"if we start the treatments again soon and they go well, we could have a baby by my next birthday," alexia mentioned casually.

"i don't remember asking you what you wanted for your birthday," you teased. alexia scoffed as she gave you a little nudge. "i think that i'd like that too, but you would be playing for a lot of the pregnancy. are you okay with missing appointments?"

"back and forth. i'd like to retire with my girls on the pitch with me," alexia told you. you smiled at the thought of alexia giving her speech with you, jaime, and a second baby by her side.

"how do you know that we'll have another girl?" you asked her. to be fair, alexia had been pretty accurate in telling you beforehand how jaime would be.

"i don't for sure, but i've got a feeling. so, what do you say?" alexia asked you.

"i'd like that. the plan was three, wasn't it?"

"it was, but i'd like to carry the last one. i want to give you something as special as what you've given me." alexia pulled you in for a kiss, one that was only broken at the exaggerated gags of mapi and jaime.

"ew, gross mami!" jaime squealed. her squeals mixed with laughter as alexia got up and scooped jaime into her arms. alexia alternated between tossing jaime up and peppering the little girl's face in kisses. "te amo, mami."

"te amo mucho, jaime. your spanish getting much better," alexia said. jaime beamed at the praise. jaime had taken to english, but struggled with her spanish to the point where alexia wondered if they'd ever get around to catalan."

[steddiecameraroll]

“Happy two year anniversary on your crush, dingus.” Robin tosses a peanut at Steve’s head.

“Shut uuuup,” he groans into his arms after an embarrassing interaction with the one and only Eddie Munson only 7 min earlier.

“What did you get yourself? What’s the two year anniversary anyway? Paper? Wood?”

“Why do you torture me?” He softly hits his forehead against the top of the countertop near the candy rack.

“Because you deserve it.”

“He keeps getting hotter,” Steve whines.

“So you keep saying.” She crosses her arms and leans against the counter at Steve’s side.

“Did you see? Did you see that tattoo on his- under his- oh my god.” Steve waves his hand under his armpit. “That should be illegal. Why does he think wearing a tank top with that much skin showing is-is appropriate? If he shows up at my house in fucking cut off jean shorts again, I’m going to lose it.”

“Oh yeah?” Like she hasn’t heard this before. “You mean like how you said you were going to throw ice at him, if he showed up in those wranglers to help with your car? Or when you said you were going to bite him, if he wore that stretched out loose-necked band shirt? Maybe this time you should kiss him. Spice it up a little.”

“Shut up, those jeans are diabolical. No one ever said that cowboys had great asses.”

“Um, actually I think they did? Why are chaps assless?”

Steve stands up and thinks about that for a minute. “Oh, shit.”

“You gonna finally say something to him?” She’s thisclose to shoving their faces together.

“I don’t know. I don’t want to ruin anything.” Steve says with a sigh.

Meanwhile…

“Idiot, idiot, idiot.” Eddie bashes his head into a pillow.

“It couldn’t have been that bad.” Jeff rolls his eyes.

“It was horrendously bad. He stared at me like I don’t know, like I grew a second head or something.”

“When are you going to just talk to him about it? Dude, it’s been two years. Two years of listening to you pine over Harrington. If you don’t tell him, I will figure out a way to tell him myself.”

“Et tu Brute?” Eddie grabs the collar of his shirt in mock horror.

“If you don’t tell him, I can promise you Dustin is mere moments away from piecing it together. The way you look at Steve when he picks the kids up? Dude, it’s over.”

“Oh god, don’t remind me. I know I’m on borrowed time!” He digs his fingers into his hair.

“Aren’t you going over there this weekend?” Jeff crushes his empty soda can and tosses it easily into his nearby trash can.

“Yessss, ugh the first pool party of the summer. I gotta find those stupid shorts.”

“You own shorts?”

“They were an old pair of Wayne’s jeans I cut into shorts. They’re a little loose around the waist so they don’t dig into me.” Eddie falls back onto Jeff’s mattress with a sigh. “Last year I could’ve sworn I saw Steve checking me out in them.”

“Dude? Fucking tell him.” Jeff groans.

Steve rushes to the front door after hearing Eddie’s signature knock. When he pulls it open he’s unprepared for what’s standing on the other side.

“Hey, man.” Eddie smiles wide while holding up a six pack.

“Sh-shorts…,” Steve murmurs.

“Huh? Oh, I know my legs are whiter than white.”

“Come in,” Steve tries to even his voice.

“I’ll put these in the fridge.”

Steve walks behind Eddie as the man heads into the kitchen. Steve’s trying not to ogle. Honestly. He’s trying to keep his eyes off Eddie’s ass, objectifying him like he’s a piece of meat, but it’s hard when he keeps shimmying his hips to the music playing in the living room.

After Eddie slides the beer into the fridge he grabs one of the cold ones Steve loaded up earlier and kicks the door shut with his hip.

“Everyone else outside?”

“Yeah, I knew you were on your way so I was finishing up in here and listening for the van.” Steve grabs a bag of chips, rips it open, and pours into a big plastic bowl.

“Hey, did you know we’ve been friends for two years now?” Eddie bumps Steve’s hip with his own.

“Oh yeah?” Steve definitely knew that.

“Happy anniversary,” Eddie grins.

“Heh, that’s what Robin said.”

“She- Robin said happy anniversary?”

Shit

Steve opens his mouth trying to come up with something but shuts it again when it all sounds stupid in his head.

“Yeah, uh, she said something like we’ve been friends for two years.”

Eddie shifts and leans on the counter to face Steve. “You and her? You’ve been friends longer than that.”

“No, no, you and me. You and me have been friends for two years.”

Eddie furrows his brows while chewing on his bottom lip. Steve keeps his eyes pointed forward as he continues to situate snacks. They stand in silence for a beat and Steve feels like he should say something.

Eddie beats him to it. “Tell me something. Do I look ridiculous in these shorts?”

Steve feels his stomach drop because there’s no way he’s getting out of this unscathed.

“They were my uncle’s and I cut them up. Do you think I should cut them shorter, maybe?” Eddie turns around and looks over his shoulder at Steve.

Steve’s eyes flick to Eddie’s denim hugged butt before clearing his throat and looking away again. “I don’t know. They look fine like that.”

“Sure, but,” Eddie turns around and takes a hold of the hem of Steve’s shorts between his thumb and index finger. “Your’s are so much shorter than mine.”

Steve can feel Eddie’s knuckle brushing against his thigh.

“I may not have thighs like yours, Stevie.” Eddie leans into Steve’s space while continuing to hold the hem. “But do you think I could pull them off?”

Steve’s brain is malfunctioning because does he mean pull Steve’s shorts off? “My shorts?”

“Hmm,” Eddie grins and then looks over Steve’s shoulder like he’s making sure no one is watching. “I’m gonna do something that I’m praying you’re into. If not, please don’t punch my face.”

“What-?” Steve’s question gets cut off when Eddie places a quick kiss to Steve’s mouth.

It’s so quick Steve’s brain didn’t even realize it was happening until Eddie was already standing back in place. He stands in shock, lifts his fingertips to touch his lips, and gawks at the doe-eyed man before him.

“Was that ok?” Eddie’s leaning away.

Steve’s nodding before he speaks. “Yeah, mhmm.”

“Can I do it longer this time?”

Steve can’t speak but he nods without hesitation. Eddie makes a quiet noise before moving in and kissing Steve.

And it feels….

“I knew it!”

Steve pulls back and the two men turn to see Robin standing smugly.

“I knew it! Two fucking years.” She shakes her head before waving her hand at them and moving to the fridge. “Oh don’t stop on my account.”

[sweetfushi]

-> SYNOPSIS. wearing pheromone perfume around them. -> TAGS. gojo, geto, toji, nanami, sukuna x reader, established relationship, modern au (aside from sukuna's), mention of viagra because toji can't shut up, trueform!sukuna, heianera!sukuna, suggestive so 16+.

SATORU GOJO.

“I’m home,” you hear Gojo announce from the front door. You’re so giddy with excitement you almost forget to reply. “Welcome home, I’ve got dinner going so just wash up and come back down,” you tell him, making yourself look busy by unnecessarily opening the pot lids and stirring. 

“Hhh, I wanna sleep and never wake up again,” he sighs exaggeratedly, coming over to wrap his arms around your waist and press gentle kisses to your neck. You know you’ve got him when he slows his affections and just rests his face in the crook of your neck, sniffing continuously.

“Is that a new perfume?” He asks, brushing his thumb across your lower stomach and gripping you tighter when you squeal and protest that it tickles.

“I’ve been in the kitchen for the past two hours, so I don’t think what you’re smelling is perfume,” you joke, almost yelping when he noses at your sensitive skin. He slowly tugs you away from the stove and turns you in his arms, resuming his assault on your neck. “You, mm, smell so nice,” he groans.

You have to steady yourself by grounding your hands on his chest, gasping when he starts to bite into your skin. “Satoru, that h-hurts,” you whimper, not resisting his affections but wincing every time his canines dig their way into your scented skin.

“Sorry, dove,” he inhales deeply, pressing an apologetic kiss to the marks on your neck before pulling away and running a hand over his face. His pupils are blown, his lips wet from licking them so many times, and you’re almost scared to ask if he’s okay.

You giggle at his expression instead, finding that a smile of his own paints his lips. He presses a kiss to your cheek and thumbs circles over your hip bone and while he remains listening to you telling him about your day, he can’t help but swallow thickly everytime you turn your head or shift closer to him, your scent wafting towards him.

“Do you have dessert planned?” Gojo asks you, interrupting you mid-sentence. You turn back to look at him, slightly confused. “Ah, no, I didn’t have time– oh!” You squeal, wrapping your arms around his neck when he encircles your legs around his waist.

“Don’t worry, I do.”

SUGURU GETO.

You quickly roll the perfume on your neck and wrists, checking your appearance in the bathroom and inhaling deeply to prepare yourself for whatever outcome was awaiting you.

“Honey! Can you come here?” Geto calls out from his study, evident frustration in his voice.

“Coming!” You respond, hiding the perfume and fluffing your hair one last time before heading over to his study to find him pacing, his forehead tense and tie loosened around his neck. He somewhat lightens up at the sight of you, before asking, “have you seen my dissertation draft?”

You relax. “Yeah, I stored it away from your countless mugs of coffee,” you look pointedly at his crowded desk - earning a sheepish smile from him - before pulling said draft out of a nearby filing cabinet. Geto sighs in relief, taking the stack of papers from your hand and pressing a kiss to your lips.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you, honestly,” he laughs, wrapping an arm around your neck and kissing the top of your head. Geto tends to become more affectionate when he’s been overwhelmed with something - this time being the deadline for his dissertation. You return his embrace and let him rest his chin on your head as he places the papers on the desk behind him.

“I might be high from my caffeine intake,” he says as his brow furrows, “but do you smell different?” He asks, letting himself inhale the scent drifting from your neck. “Is this the one I bought you?”

You squirm when he starts to kiss your collarbone, his large hands steadying you as they rested on your lower back. Leaning back, you allow him further access, while also being mindful of your own intentions.

“No, t-this one’s from the new drugstore downtown,” your husband starts to push your hair behind your ear and nibble at your Adam’s apple, your hands finding leverage on his broad shoulders. “Careful!” You scold when he presses you against the drawer behind you, lifting you to sit you on it and almost causing your grip on him to slip.

Geto pauses his kisses to gaze up at you, a brow raised and questioning of your small smile. “What?” You ask, feigning innocence. However, Geto catches the playful sparkle in your eye and has a small idea of what you’ve done. “You temptress.”

TOJI FUSHIGURO.

You’ve devised a plan on how to tempt Toji more than you already do - by rolling on the perfume you have seen rave about for the past month. Only, you needed a way to get Toji to smell it without making it entirely obvious.

So while your husband is lounging on the couch, catching up on his favourite show, you decide to disguise your plan by making him a snack. You place a few fruits, crackers and small chunks of chocolate on a plate, as well as fill a glass of water before heading over to the living room and place them on the table in front of him.

“You treat me too well, mama,” he smiles, pulling you into his lap, “Thank you.”

“Of course,” you lean into his chest, letting his kiss distract you from the loud gunshots sounding from the TV. After a moment of shifting on his lap and watching him pop a few grapes into his mouth, you decide to lean slightly closer to him, making it as though you want to snuggle against his chest (which you do, but it doubles as the perfect excuse to draw your scent closer to him).

When he bites into a chocolate square, he catches sight of your anticipatory expression from his peripheral vision. He swallows the chocolate before responding with a raised brow. “Are these some of those viagra-chocolates?”

“No!” You laugh, grabbing his hair and shaking his head aggressively.

He groans, disguising his own chuckle. Grabbing your wrist, he pulls it down to kiss the back of your hand. “So d’ya wanna tell me why you’re giving me those eyes?”

“What eyes? Can I not admire my husband?” You roll your eyes playfully, but don’t fail to notice the way he grips your left shoulder to pull you closer, his nose exploring your exposed skin.

“Forget ya eyes, mama, damn,” he hisses. As you start to run your hands through his hair, his hands start to roam over your body, tugging at the straps of your camisole. “Tojiiiii,” you whine, yelping as his nails dig into your waist.

“Haven’t even done anything and you’re whinin’,” he teases, his tone almost condescending as he mocks your whimpers and pleas. When a stronger gust of your perfume hits him, he turns the TV off, throws you over his shoulder (ignoring your startled yelp) and heads upstairs.

“How ‘bout you tell me what you’re doing to me, hm?”

KENTO NANAMI.

You’ve just returned from work, but you had quickly applied the perfume while in your car. Once stepping onto the welcome mat, you kick your heels off and announce yourself - to which you hear Nanami say “in the living room”.

Throwing your bag on the floor beside your heels, you rush to your husband as fast as you can with the ache you feel in your feet, finding Nanami engrossed in another book with his glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. You throw your arms around his neck from behind him, nuzzling your cheek into his hair.

“Kentooo, I missed you so much,” you whine into his hair, feeling his hands reach up to rest on yours. His deep chuckle resonates through you. “As did I, my love.”

You unbutton your blazer and toss it over an arm of the couch before throwing yourself down next to him, snuggling into his side. Nanami places his book down on the coffee table before lifting your chin and finally kissing you. His kisses are always slow and deep, having your toes curling. He groans into the kiss, releasing his pent up frustration into the intensity of his lips moving against yours. After a moment of indulging in each other’s touch, you pull away and let him pull you closer to rest his forehead on your shoulder.

“You smell nice,” he mutters, kissing the conjunction of your neck and shoulders.

“Thank you,” you smile, running a hand through his hair.

You expect him to tell you about his day, or at least about the book he’s reading - as he usually does. Instead, he’s quiet and not uncharacteristically so, but you start to feel him tighten his grip on your waist. Nanami lifts his head and eyes you.

“What brand of perfume is that? It’s…” he clears his throat, “very strong.”

You pout. “A bad strong?”

He pauses. “Ah, not exactly.”

Nanami wraps an arm around your shoulders, letting your legs stretch out on his lap. He starts to massage your calves and unsubtly glances at you every so often, making you laugh.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he responds a little too quickly, making it hard for you to contain your devious smile. Nanami sighs heavily, cursing under his breath before resting a hand on your back and kissing you again, catching you immensely off guard. You whimper into the significantly rougher kiss, panting as Nanami parts from you to remove his glasses, before resuming your intimacy.

“I know you’ve done something,” he groans, “but as of now, I don’t have the sense to figure out what it is.”

RYOMEN SUKUNA.

Your lady in waiting was a bit hesitant to let you do this, but she watched with pursed lips and underlying curiosity as you rolled the perfume on your neck, wrists and behind your ears. It wasn’t as if Sukuna would kill you for this, you’re his wife. But, you were giddy at the thought of what he might do to you upon catching your scent.

So when you’re in your bedroom, watching Sukuna loosen the tie of his robe and approach you with thunderous steps, you’re practically jumping out of your skin in anticipation.

“My Queen,” he starts, his voice gruff, low and seductive, “I anticipate that no mishaps have obstructed your day? These maids are insufferable at times,” The King of Curses seemingly spits, tone spiteful. Though, he finds it within himself to lay an uncharacteristically gentle kiss to your lips.

“Of course not,” you insist. “Especially not after what you did to the last ones who disturbed me,” you look at him pointedly, brow raised and a laugh bubbling in your chest at his near-pout.

Instead of protesting and assuring you that he did so because he aims to protect his woman, he snatches you up into his arms and lets you wrap yourself around him like a koala clinging to a tree. His two lower arms lock you against him, while his two upper arms start to roam over your body. Not necessarily seeking to initiate anything, but to feel you after a day of not doing so.

“Mm,” he sighs, burying his nose in your hair. “What is that scent? Is that another herbal medicine?”

You struggle to contain your smile. “Nooo, it’s a new fragrance. What do you think of it?”

Sukuna doesn’t speak for a moment, instead distracts himself by exploring your exposed skin with his curious nose. Sometimes, The King of Curses is much like a dog, desperate to find what demands his attention in such a significant manner.

“‘Kuna,” you whimper, feeling his teeth graze your neck.

His brow furrows as he lifts his head to so intensely lock gazes with you. “What have you done, woman?” He snarls, reaching up to gently (or as gently Sukuna is capable of) grab your face and turn your head from side to side, inspecting you.

“I applied a fragrance, that is all,” you insist, giggling at the ticklish sensation of his hair brushing against your jaw. “I demand that this fragrance,” he says, almost disgusted by his own curiosity, “be your only one.”

sweetfushi © do not modify, repost, translate, copy or use my post in any way. all that is included in this post, aside from the fictional characters and universes, belong to sweetfushi (zee).

[songsbygumi]

That’s Where You’re Wrong

| Megumi x reader

Summary- What happens when your best friend, Okkotsu Yuta, steals all of your attention away from Megumi?

Warnings - English it's not my first language, female reader and mention of "y/n" (just onnce tho).

A/N- This is part of the universe of 'Suck It and See' inspired by Arctic Monkeys' album and Alex Turner's 'Submarine' EP but can be read as a standalone.

The day Fushiguro Megumi realizes he likes you is, without a doubt, the worst day of his life.

It’s one of those evenings where the two of you are sitting in the living room, casually discussing books, or watching silly YouTube videos. However, tonight is different. You're furiously typing on your computer, racing to finish Kusakabe-sensei's homework before the midnight deadline, while Megumi sits silently on the floor, absorbed in his book.

His eyes are growing heavy, but he would rather sleep on the floor than leave you alone. Closing his book, he hides a yawn in his forearm and moves to sit on the couch next to you, struggling to keep his eyes open. He watches you chew your bottom lip, pausing for a moment to consider what else you could add to meet the thousand-word minimum. "Cute," he thinks.

“You can go to sleep, Gumi. I'm almost finished,” you say, your eyes meeting his briefly as you offer a tired smile before returning to your screen.

He doesn't respond, simply continuing to watch you as you type away on your computer. He knows you’ve finished when a sigh of relief escapes your lips and you shut the laptop closed. In the next moment, you silently gather your personal items, and this is what Megumi adores most about your relationship—the silent communication you two have developed and perfected over your short time of friendship.

Everything is perfect for a moment before you exclaim, “OH MY GOD, YUTA!”

The peace and quiet that previously reigned is shattered by your squeals of joy as you watch Okkotsu Yuta enter the living room. Megumi has never seen you move so quickly; you practically leap over the coffee table and couches to be swept up into Okkotsu's arms, your feet lifting off the ground.

“You’re back! Are you hurt?” Megumi feels like an intruder as he watches you step back to inspect Okkotsu for any possible injuries, only to hug him again once you’re reassured that he’s unharmed.

Something twists inside Megumi, burning him from the inside. Are normal hugs this long? He remains rooted to the spot, unsure why he hasn’t said anything or simply left. He watches the two of you talk, your body close to Okkotsu’s, your voice brimming with energy that was absent a moment ago, and your eyes shining brighter. It’s as if Okkotsu’s presence has brought you back to life.

“Still losing sleep, I see,” Okkotsu says, finally releasing you and noticing Megumi over your shoulder. “Hi, Fushiguro.” Megumi responds with a short, quick salute, feeling another twist in his stomach as he catches the mischievous smile Okkotsu directs at you.

Megumi's gaze is fixed on you, all the way across the cafeteria. He hasn’t touched his food, too engrossed in watching you talk animatedly to Okkotsu. You're wearing the sweater he had on last night, and he feels a surge of anger.

“You okay, Fushiguro?” Itadori asks, concern evident in his voice. Sure, Megumi usually stares at you, but it’s never been this obvious. Itadori doesn’t even consider that Megumi might be aware of his staring—it's become a common occurrence, just as you staring at him is equally normal.

“Fine,” he says, but his gaze remains fixed on you. “Has she always looked that beautiful?” he mutters.

Itadori chokes on a piece of rice, unsure if he heard correctly what Fushiguro just said. I mean, he knew you liked Fushiguro—Kugisaki filled him in when he came back to Jujutsu High. And of course, it was obvious Fushiguro was different around you, but again, he wasn’t sure if Fushiguro himself realized it.

Itadori’s cough captures the attention of the second years, prompting your gazes to meet across the room. Megumi feels a sudden warmth flooding his cheeks, igniting them with a fiery blush.

He hasn't spoken to you all day; you've been too preoccupied with Okkotsu. Every time he catches sight of you, you're with him, and it makes his blood boil.

“What’s got you so grumpy today?” Kugisaki queries as they sit together in the library, scouring for information for their homework.

"Nothing," he replies curtly.

Kugisaki finds Fushiguro's jealousy amusing. It's evident to every soul in the school that your eyes are only for him, so obvious that sometimes he wants to smack his head against a wall for being so blind. So, if Okkotsu Yuta is the final piece for him to realize that he likes you, then so be it.

"Okay," she accepts quietly, an innocent smile spreading across her face before she asks, "Have you seen y/n? Haven't seen her all day."

A vein threatens to pop in Megumi's temple as Kugisaki inquiries about your whereabouts. He longs to tell her that you've been with Okkotsu Yuta all day, and he misses you terribly—your smile, your giggles, even your complaints about Kusakabe-sensei assigning too much homework, or the way your cheeks blush when he compliments you.

"Gotta go," he says abruptly, rising from his seat and leaving a grinning Kugisaki behind.

Megumi sits alone in a classroom, gazing out of the window. Outside, you're with your friends, immersed in the book he recommended to you a couple of days ago. Your head is resting on Okkotsu’s thigh, and something inside Megumi snaps.

The divine dog barks happily at you, seeking your hand for a pet, and you oblige with a smile, its tail wagging furiously once you're fully engaged in petting its head.

“Didn’t think you were this petty, Megumi,” Gojo's voice breaks through Megumi's trance.

“Don’t think I know what you're talking about, Gojo-sensei,” He replies, and Gojo can sense the truth in his words; he just can't see it.

“Hmm, bottling and denying your feelings so much has made you blind to them,” Gojo remarks, signaling to Megumi to look in your direction. Your head now rests on the fluffy buddy of the dog, Okkotsu, engaged in conversation with Maki. "You'd have to be blind not to see it."

"I know," he says, feeling defeated.

He shouldn't feel this way. After all, you're just friends. He doesn't even like you like that, right? Sure, he loves seeing you smile and adores the way the corners of your lips lift in happiness when you see him. He likes the way your cheeks flush when you're embarrassed, the sound of your laugh, and how you play with his hair.

These are all things friends do, right? Except that, unlike with Kugisaki and Itadori, he doesn’t feel like his heart is going to race out of his chest when he sees them. He doesn’t want to admire their faces every second of the day or listen to them talk for the rest of his life (God forbid).

Megumi wants you all the time. He wants to be in your presence every hour of the day. It's hard enough for him not having you in the same classroom. Just look at him—one day without you, and he feels like he's going insane. Watching you next to Okkotsu almost breaks him. Maybe these aren’t just things friends feel.

"You'd have to be blind not to see that Yuta is head over heels for Maki," Gojo interrupts his train of thought. Wait, what?

Megumi's head snaps to the window, taking in the scene. You're focused on your book while Toge is fast asleep on the grass, and Yuta can't stop staring at Maki. Oh shit, he feels pathetic.

Then it happens—your gaze meets his for the second time that day. You smile at him, waving happily, and suddenly, the sky it’s a scissor. He was so jealous of Okkotsu Yuta because he likes you.

“Well, this is going to be a headache because there’s no way she likes me back.” Gojo wants to facepalm so badly this will never end.

[peaceloveandf1]

What I Love About The South!- LN4

..............................................................................................................................

pairing: lando norris x reader

rating: e for everyone!

warnings: none!

..............................................................................................................................

"Hey...we've landed", a soft voice flooded my ears as I was softly shaken awake.

"have we?", I questioned my boyfriend. It had been a 10 hour flight from London to Austin, Texas.

"yeah babe, c'mon let's go see everyone" Lando said, dramatically pulling me from my seat.

I groaned as I stretched my arms and legs before grabbing my bags and making my way off the plane after Oscar and his girlfriend Lily. As we loaded our bags into the car waiting for us, I was filled with so much excitement; I am home. To get to show my boyfriend and my friends abroad my home is so exciting. Of course they've been to Texas before, but this will be the first time they come to my hometown and my family's farm.

"So how long of a drive is it?" Oscar asked me from the back seat.

"mmh it's about a 2 hour drive from where we're staying for the race" I explained to them as I slipped behind the wheel and set off. We had landed in Texas almost a week early in order for all of us to be able to explore and hang out on the farm until the grand prix. My parent's farm sits on over 20 acres in the small college/farm town of Waco, Texas. This is the first time I'll be home in a year, after I graduated from Baylor University and left my hometown for London and a job in finance. I can't believe what my life has become and I can't believe my boyfriend is about to meet my parents for the first time.

I squeezed Lando's hand in excitement as we arrived at the gate to my parent's ranch.

"I'm really excited babe." He said, running his thumb over my knuckles. After the almost mile drive up to the house, I parked the car to greet my family.

The four of us grabbed our bags and as soon as my parents laid eyes on Lando I could tell they loved him.... and after a 2 hour conversation with them, I can confirm: they totally love him.

..............................................................................................................................

"Baby,I think I could stay here forever", Lando whispers in my ear as I stare at the fire.

"You're lucky they haven't put you to work yet" I giggle, leaning my head on his shoulder.

"I think if I got to stay here with you forever, then I'd do as much work as they want", he said, kissing my forehead.

"I'm happy you like it here. I was worried it might be a bit slow paced for you" I say softly.

"I like to slow it down sometimes. Especially when I'm with a cute girl who wears boots and talks funny", he said, poking me in my side elicting a laugh from me.

"I talk funny? Speak for yourself", I retort.

"I'm only playing, plus the farm gives me another reason to love the south", he said somehow pulling me closer in the act.

"oh yeah? what are the other reasons?", I turn looking at him, surprised at what he was leaning towards, seeing as we haven't said the "L word".

"mmhm I don't know if you've met her but there's this pretty cool girl from Texas. She's got this accent that drives me mad, she's real smart, and she's stunning inside and out", he whispers to me again.

"She sounds really great", I whisper back; "reminds me of this guy I met in London. He's a racing driver, he's real handsome, and he's just so sweet".

He pulls me closer as I finish my sentence and places a kiss on my forehead. As his lips leave my forehead, he tilts my chin up so that my lips can meet his. The kiss is familiar and soft, like always, so sweet. Pulling away, Lando rests his forehead against mine.

"I love you", he breathes out.

"I love you too"

[mismatched-sockss]

Follow my lead

» Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader » Word count: 5,8k (help, i got a little carried away..) » Warnings: 18+ only, MDNI, squint and you'll miss the plot, established relationship, reader hasn't been able to orgasm from masturbation alone, mentions of using sex toys to cum (f), guided masturbation, masturbation (f and m), praising / praise kink, dirty talk, unintentional edging (f), voyerism, multiple orgasms, some begging, a lot of check ins, unprotected p in v, creampie, i think this already counts as (soft)dom!Spencer, pet names (good girl for reader, baby, love) » A/N: and here we have my first entry for the bingo! it's my first time participating in a bigger challenge, i can't tell you all how excited i am about this whole thing. don't ask me what happend here, i was shocked when i checked the word count... also, this is the first time writing smut again after years, so bare with me please. hope you enjoy!

⚶ bingo masterlist | masterlist ⚶

“Never?”

“Never. I don't know, it just doesn't do it for me.”

“But you are- I mean, when”, Spencer mumbled, waving his hands around and pointing at you then him, back and forth a couple of times. “When we-”, he trailed off, his cheeks blushing as he got shy and a bit insecure.

“Oh? No”, you started but when his eyes slightly widened you realized it came out wrong. You stepped closer to him and took his hands in yours, softly squeezing them as you looked up at him with a reassuring smile. “Yes, it works when we are sleeping with each other. You do make me cum.” He huffed out a small laugh and blushed a bit more, but the insecurity that had bubbled up was leaving him again.

You pulled him in to you and placed his hands on your waist, then leaned against him and rested your chin against his chest, looking up at him. Shrugging, you wrapped your arms around his mid. “I just can't finish from only touching myself. Not without using toys that require batteries at least.”

Spencer softly squeezed your waist and started drawing circles with his thumbs. He slightly squinted his eyes and nodded his head a couple of times in thought; you could practically hear the gears turning as an idea formed in his mind. You raised your chin. “What?”

“Show me.”

“Huh? Show you? You mean, you...”, you trailed off. Now it was your turn to get shy, the heat rising up in your body, creeping higher until your face grew hot. “You want to watch me.. masturbate?”

Spencer nodded, one side of his lips turned up in a teasing half smile. “Yes. You said I make you cum, so there must be something I'm doing right.” Both of you chuckled at that. “You could show me how you touch yourself and I could talk you through it. If you'd like to try, I mean.”

Subconsciously you pressed you thighs together, which Spencer didn't miss. You licked over your bottom lip, then pulled it between your teeth as you thought about what he was saying. Spencer's eyes followed the motion as he was studying your face, studying your reaction to his proposition.

The thought alone made your heart beat faster and it ignited a raging fire in you. The thought of his eyes watching closely as you lie before him, legs spread and with your hands between your thighs. His voice and words guiding and aiding your pleasure, telling you what to do and how to do it...

Your breath hitched and you swallowed hard. He raised one of his hands to cup your cheek, his thumb softly brushed over the corner of your mouth. “Is that a yes?”, he asked, his voice low. Spencer already knew the answer just by watching your reaction, but wanted you to say it out loud. His other hand sneaked under your shirt, his fingertips caressing your skin on their way higher and higher until he stopped at your ribs.

If he would give you a second, just one second without him touching or teasing you in some way, you would be able to form a sentence and answer with more than a nod. As if he had read your mind, Spencer slightly pulled back, giving you space to breathe and without his hands on you.

And even though this was what you had wanted a few seconds ago so you could properly answer him, you immediately missed his touch and a whine escaped you. He just chuckled and raised an eyebrow, encouraging you to speak, still waiting for an answer.

“Okay. Yes”, you breathed out and nodded, “wanna do it.” A desperate plea still on your tongue, he cupped your cheeks and pressed his lips to yours.

You sighed against his mouth, your lips parting. Spencer deepened the kiss and both of you moaned when your tongues met. A shiver ran down your spine when you felt his hands slide down over your neck and collarbones, over your chest where he was careful not to touch your nipples through the fabric and down to your sides, where he pushed them back under the hem of your shirt, slowly making his way up..

The kiss only broke for a moment when he pulled your shirt over your head, his lips instantly reattaching to yours and his hands back on you, now able to roam freely over your skin without any restrictions. You slid your own hands over his chest and started to unbutton his dress shirt. You just undid the last button when you gasped and bunched up the material in your hands; Spencer slowly slid one of his hands under the hem of your panties and groaned against your lips when he felt how wet you were.

His finger slid through your folds, teasing at your entrance before he drew slow and gentle circles on your clit. When your breath hitched and you began to grind your hips against his hand, he stopped and pulled his hand out of your pants

“Nuh-uh, the deal was for you to make yourself cum; with your own hands”, he taunted, as if he hadn't started this himself just now. He lifted your chin and pressed a kiss to your lips. When he leaned back you tried to chase his lips, whining when he left you hanging and took a step back, shrugging the shirt off his shoulders as he did so. Then he took another step. And another. “Take the rest of your clothes off.”

The buckle of his belt rattled as Spencer opened it, your eyes followed his hands. You watched him pull it out of the loops and drop it to the floor next to him before he unbuttoned his pants – but kept them on – and sat down in the armchair. His eyes never left you, following each of your moves. You hooked your thumbs into the hem of your pants and underwear and pulled them down, letting them pool around your ankles.

“Sit down, spread your legs and put your hands on your knees.”

You stepped out of the pile of fabric and kicked them to the side, right onto the rest of your discarded clothes, then you did as he told you and sat down across from him on the sofa, slowly opening your legs.

Being naked in front of Spencer was one thing, but this? It was a totally new feeling for you; a different – a special – kind of vulnerability you had never experienced before, not with him, not with anybody.

You felt like your skin was on fire, inch after inch getting ignited as Spencer's eyes wandered over your naked body, lingering here and there for a moment; on your bottom lip when you licked over it and pulled it between your teeth, the swell of your breasts and your hardening nipples, down over your soft stomach to your glistening pussy, already wet from his teasing, and your hands loosely resting on your knees.

“Like that. Good girl.”

This wasn't the first time he called you a 'good girl', but today... Fuck... A shiver ran down your back and you were barely able to hold back a whimper, the ache in your core getting stronger and you felt yourself clench around nothing. God, you wanted to feel him deep inside you; tongue, fingers, cock. What ever you could get. What ever he would give you. Your hands shook in anticipation and you felt yourself getting wetter and needier.

Spencer's eyes darkened when he saw your intense reaction to the praise and his jaw went slack for a moment before he fixed his gaze back on your face, trying to gain back some composure. His hands held a tight grip on the armrests, his knuckles almost white, as if he had to physically hold himself back from just getting up and ravaging you right then and there.

You loved the effect you had on him, that just seeing you drove him crazy. It made you feel powerful.

He took a deep breath in through his nose and slowly breathed out, calming himself down. His grip on the armrests loosened then and he leaned back. “I want you to start by moving your hands over your thighs”, he instructed, his voice low and raspy. “Slowly.”

Without having to think about it you followed his words and let your hands glide over your soft skin with a gentle pressure; from your knees over the outsides of your thighs until you reached your hips, then you moved them up to slide them back down to your knees again.

“You can touch your inner thighs as well, but don't touch your pussy yet.”

You nodded and took a shaky breath. The insides of your thighs were more sensitive and you shuddered as you got closer and closer to your core and a soft moan escaped your lips. Even though Spencer told you not to, you wanted nothing more than to play with your clit or slide two of your fingers inside, thrusting them in and out.

And when he moved his hand to his bulge, palming himself as he watched you, you thought that maybe, he would let you do it. He didn't give you permission and you didn't ask, but you didn't stop moving your hands further up. But when your fingertips got too close to your folds, he clicked his tongue disapprovingly.

“Sorry”, you mumbled breathless and pulled your hands back. You slid them back down, closer to your knees, and grabbed your thighs.

“'s okay, baby.” Then Spencer chuckled. “And you can sit more comfortably if you want, by the way. You don't have to sit up with a straight back.”

You pouted with a smile on your lips as you looked beside you and grabbed a pillow to put it behind your back. “I knew that.” You leaned back, testing if the pillow was in a good position and when you where satisfied with the placement you scooted back some more and fully rested your body against it.

“Anything you feel like doing right now?”, Spencer asked. You opened your mouth, but before you could say anything he added with a smirk: “Except for touching your pussy.”

You grinned at him. “What about for you to fuck me?” But he just shook his head, chuckling.

“Patience, love.”

Well, it was still worth a try. You held back the disappointed and needy whine that wanted to come out and for a moment you tried to think about it, you really did. But you made the mistake to look down his torso and Spencer's hand was just too damn distracting. He was still palming himself over his pants, softly squeezing from time to time. And while he was waiting for your answer, he lazily stroked his thumb back and forth over his clothed shaft.

The words came out choked and barely audible when you finally forced yourself to answer, your fingers digging hard in to your flesh. “Don't know...”

“First thing that comes to mind.” His voice was lazed with amusement; Spencer was enjoying this so much and he knew exactly what he was doing to you right now. His tongue darted out to lick over his lip and the softly bit down in the tip.

After a deep breath you made yourself look at his face and softened the grip you had on your thighs. “Maybe... touch my breasts? My nipples?”

He smiled softly. “No wrong answers here.” With a tilt of his head he raised his chin as confirmation. “Go ahead. Keep your hands on your body.”

With a tender touch your moved your hands up your body, softly caressing your skin, up to your tits and cupped them with your hands.

“Gently massage them, play with your nipples.”

You gasped when you followed his instructions and rolled your hard nipples between your fingers, the sensation shooting waves of pleasure down to your core. With every flick and twist you grew needier. Impatient.

"Feels good?", he asked breathy, his voice shaking a bit when he moved his hand faster and with more pressure over his cock.

"Not as good as when you do it”, you whined.

Spencer chuckled again; his tone teasing. "Want me to touch you?"

You nodded your head eagerly, your back slightly arching into your hands. "Mh-hm, please."

"Wanna see you make yourself cum first, okay? You can do it. I'll touch you as much as you want after."

If you wouldn't get some kind of release soon, you would go insane, completely feral. Closing your legs to press your thighs together for some friction wasn't an option and with the way you were sitting you couldn't exactly try and rub yourself against the sofa. And maybe it was written on your face in big, bold letters, because Spencer – finally – gave you the go.

“Slide your hands down your stomach, move your fingertips over your lips and tease yourself for a moment – yes, good, like that. When you are ready, go ahead and touch your clit. Soft circles.”

The first stoke of your fingers over your clit felt like heaven and ecstasy flooded through your whole body. Your head fell back and you moaned loudly; it felt so good to finally be able to feel your fingers where you so desperately had wanted them that your body started to tremble. A string of mashed together words fell from your lips, you didn't even realize you were saying them. ”Thankyouthankyouthankyou-”

You melted back into the pillow, gasping and moaning as the pleasure became more and more; your other hand found its way back to your tits on its own, groping at the soft flesh and teasing your nipple as your fingers between your legs moved in slow, tight circles.

The sound of clothes rustling made you lift your head; Spencer lifted his hips to slip off his pants, letting them pool around his ankles. He adjusted his position and leaned back, his knees slightly falling apart and he wrapped his hand around his hard cock.

The sight made you whimper, the need to taste him and feel him overtaking your whole being. But you knew, even if you would ask – beg – him to fuck you, he wouldn't do it, not now; you hadn't cum yet. So you did the next best thing and pushed two of your fingers into your leaking cunt.

A breathy laugh fell from Spencer's lips as he watched you start to thrust your fingers into yourself as soon as you had seen him. His grip on his cock tightened and he started to pump his fist faster, not holding back his own moans. He so desperately wanted to bury himself in your tight walls and it took everything in him to hold back. “God, you look so perfect right now... So fucking pretty.”

The both of you worked each other up, the pleasure getting more intense with every stroke; hands moving, touching and teasing with more and more want and desperation.

But somehow it still wasn't enough. “Can I go faster?”, you whimpered, your voice wavering.

“Of course, baby. Go as fast or as slow as you want.”

The room filled with both of your moans and panting, and the sounds of skin hitting on skin – Spencer's fist hitting his pelvis and the palm of your hand slapping against your slick cunt – as you gradually picked up the pace until you were franticly fucking yourself with your fingers.

After a while you slowed down your pace again, trying to catch your breath. You felt the familiar knot form in your belly as you pumped your fingers in and out of your heat, your walls fluttering around them.

“Think I'm getting close...”, you breathed out, followed by a high-pitched gasp when your palm rubbed over your clit.

A groan formed in the back of Spencer's throat. “Touch your clit again; you can go slow or fast, in circles or not, however it feels right.”

You pulled your fingers out and swirled them over your clit, your fingertips effortlessly sliding over it. The muscles in your stomach tightened as your orgasm built up. You fought against the urge to thrust your hips up, trying to keep your focus on rubbing your clit. You didn't want to get distracted, this was the closest you had ever gotten yourself and if you had to concentrate on moving your hips as well as your hand and fingers, you wouldn't be able to keep up with both movements.

Your breathing got quicker and heat was rising up in your body. Just when you felt like you would burst – it stopped; instead of falling over the edge your body refused to go further, keeping you right on the ledge. As if it was taunting you, the sensation became weaker, not even leaving you on the edge any more.

It was always like this when you tried to finish without a toy; your managed to make yourself feel good and when you got close – which also felt like it took forever to even get there – your body refused to give you the release you had been chasing.

A whine left your lips, you were borderline sobbing, as you squeezed your eyes shut. The need to cum and the frustration that it wasn't working, together with the unintentionally edging had you close to tears. You slowed your movements, but kept going nonetheless. “I can't. Told you it doesn't work for me.”

“Don't fight it, you almost had it. Let your body take control and let it guide you.”

You nodded eagerly and met his eyes. “Okay, I- I'll try.” You tried to hold his gaze and after a deep breath you slowly pick up the pace again. Spencer matched your pace, the slow lazy strokes getting faster as he pumped his cock with the same speed your fingers were circling your clit. Your eyelids fluttered as your gaze flickered between his face – all flushed, desire burning in his eyes and slack-jawed, with his lips slightly parted – and his hand stroking his erection.

This time when your hips jolted, you let it happen and shifted your focus to what you were feeling instead of what you were doing. It took you a moment or two to fully let go and give into the pleasure, your movements faltering a couple of times until your mind cleared and your hips and fingers synced up to work together in a delicious, steady rhythm.

“That's it, baby. Just like that. You are doing so well.” Spencer's voice was low and his tone had gotten so gravelly, he was almost growling.

You leaned back, your moans getting louder again as heat spread under your skin until your whole body was on fire , the knot in your stomach began to tighten again. It got tighter and tighter until –

“Oh fuck”, you screamed out in between your moans as your legs began to shake, and when the coil in your lower belly snapped your thighs clamped shut. Your hand stilled and your fingers stopped working your clit; instead your hips kept jolting, thrusting up into your fingers and prolonged your orgasm on their own accord. Your back arched off the sofa and you slapped your other hand on the cushion next to you, tightly gripping it in your fist.

When your body finally calmed down you gasped for air and through the foggy haze clouding your mind you vaguely registered moaning and a string of words – probably an array of curses, maybe even some praise about how well you did, how pretty you looked when you came, good girl – but the blood rushing through your ears was too loud, making it hard to make out any words.

As your muscles relaxed more, your body got limb and let yourself slide along the back of the couch until you were lying down; pulling one leg onto the couch, the other still hanging down. The more oxygen you got, the more you came back to. The shaking in your legs had almost stopped, instead your shoulders started to shake as you began to giggle. “Holy shit.”

A low laugh made you turn your head to the side and open your eyes. Your were met with Spencer's face right next to yours, a proud smile on his lips as he took in your blissed out state. He had just knelt down next to you, his hand found its way to your forehead and brushed away a few sweaty strands. “See? Knew you could do it, 'm so proud of you, baby.” He moved his hand to cup your cheeks, then further down to curl it around the back of your neck.

Your smile grew bigger and you took a shaky breath to say something, but before you could Spencer pulled you closer and kissed you desperately; the need to be near you, touch you, feel you, overpowering him. You kissed him back just as feverishly and buried your hands in his hair. Spencer let his hand wander from your neck down to your breasts, his fingers leaving your skin burning up and begging for more. He cupped one of them, gently massaging it and started playing with your nipple, rolling it between his fingertips and pinching it with just the right amount of pressure that made you tremble and arch your back into him.

You whimpered and softly tugged on the strands at the back of his head. He groaned into your mouth in return and you felt him shift his position as he got up, pulling his knee up to hold him self up so he could lean over you. His touch and his lips, finally feeling his hands on your body, made you feel dizzy and reignited the ache in your core, your clit throbbing, desperately waiting for his attention.

The sudden feeling of his hand between your thighs made you jump a little, you broke the kiss and gasped which quickly turned into a high-pitched moan when he slipped one of his fingers in between your slick folds, only grazing your entrance as he collected some of your arousal. You were still sensitive from your orgasm, but the rush of him finally touching you was stronger and you started to move your hips.

He didn't make you wait long and so after a few tight circles over your clit, he slid his fingers down to your entrance and sank two of them into you, filling you up so much better than your own had done and reaching that spot deep inside you that you couldn't quite reach yourself.

The both of you quickly fell in an easy rhythm with each other and he had you a moaning and blabbering mess in a matter of seconds; it would almost be embarrassing if you would care about it. It blew your mind every time – every god damn day – how much power Spencer held over you, both body and mind. And if he would be anybody else, it might even scare you.

“You looked so beautiful, love, you have no idea”, Spencer breathlessly cooed against your delicate skin, kissing and softly nibbling along your neck and throat. “Could watch you play with yourself all day.”

You wouldn't be able to say anything to him even if you wanted, your mind getting blank and fuzzy; all what left your lips where breathy moans and pleas. A whiny gasp left your throat when he curled his fingers, pressing his fingertips against the very spot that made you see stars.

Spencer kissed his way to the sensitive spot under your ear and when he spoke again, whispering into your ear, his lips grazed it. “Can feel how close you are, it's okay, baby. Come for me.”

He asked and your body complied.

With his name on your lips, repeating it over and over like a prayer, your orgasm washed over you. Your eyes rolled back and when your whole body tensed up, you tried to hold on to something to anchor yourself. You blindly reached for his wrist and held it in a tight grip, your other hand curled around his arm, clawing at his biceps. Spencer kept the pace he was circling your clit with his thumb with and pumping his fingers into you as you clenched around them, trying to suck him in deeper.

Your walls were still fluttering around his fingers when you released his wrist from your grip and moved your hand to the back of his head, pulling him even closer to you. The vibrations of him chuckling against your pulse tickled your skin and you whined quietly when he slowly pulled his fingers out of your cunt, leaving you empty. He slightly leaned back and looked at you, a crooked smirk stretched on his lips. “Still want more, huh?”

“Please, baby, need you, please.” You keened, not at all caring how needy you sounded.

He shook his head at you, not to say no, but in a affectionate you are something else kind of way. “Think you got enough strength left to hold yourself up a little?”

“Yes, think so.” You swallowed and breathed deeply, nodding your head as you held his gaze. ”I will.”

“That's my good girl.” Spencer closed the small space between you and kissed you, swallowing the whiny sound you made, his lips lingering on yours for a moment, then he helped you to sit up. You watched him reach for the other pillows that had scattered around the couch and bunch them up, piling them against the back of the seats, right next to you. “C'mere.”

His hands found your hips and you let him guide you in to the position he had wanted you in, right against the pillows. He guided you to sit – kneel really – in front of the piled up pillows, chest facing them and gently pushed your upper body with a hand between your shoulder blades down. You lay against the pile, letting it support your body and after adjusting it a bit, you crossed your arms on top and placed your head down; you were practically hugging the whole thing.

He nudged your leg with his knee to spread your legs more so he could kneel behind you. With a sigh you relaxed your muscles and enjoyed Spencers hands roaming over your back. He planted a couple of kisses on your neck and shoulder, then placed his hand on the backrest behind you to hold himself up and craned his neck to catch your eyes. You shifted the position of your head slightly so you could look at him better.

“Are you comfortable?”

You smiled at him and hummed, nodding your head. Spencer returned the smile and leaned closer, to capture your lips in a kiss. It was supposed to be a quick one, just a small peck, but his front was now flush against your back and his dick had fit so perfectly between you, with his shaft splitting your folds and pressed against your entrance that he couldn't hold back any more.

So instead, he moved his hand from the sofa to the back of your head, holding you close as he slid his tongue into your mouth and deepened the kiss. You moaned into each others mouths, desperately rocking your hips against each other. He pressed himself against you as close as possible, leaving no space between your bodies, as if he wanted to make up for the time he hadn't touched you all evening.

All it took was for him to pull back just a bit more and his cock slipped right into you, bottoming out at once. “Shit”, you hissed at the sudden stretch, directly followed by crying out his name in pleasure when he pulled out just an inch or two and slowly thrust back in, even deeper.

His forehead fell to your shoulder and Spencer let out a long, deep moan. He placed his left hand back on the backrest – closer to your front this time so his arm was circling around you, more like he was holding you in a hug – and his other took a tight hold on your hip. For a long moment neither of you moved, just basking in the feeling of each other and trying to catch your breaths.

Every time you exhaled, a soft whimpering sigh left your lips. You pulled your left arm out from under your body and reached for his hand on the backrest, slotting your fingers between his. He moved his fingers slightly so he could gently squeeze yours.

Spencer was the first to move. You felt him lift his head and press his lips to your shoulder, before he repeated the same slow and deep thrust from before, not moving his body away even an inch from yours. He kept rolling his hips into you in a slow pace, pushing in deep and hard rather than fast.

Your whole body was pushed hard against the pillows in front of you every time he rocked into you, every thrust eliciting a low moan from you. You let your head fall back against him, leaning the side of your face against his. “Fuck, feel so good around me”, he groaned right by your ear, his warm breath hitting your skin.

He kept the slow and hard pace for a while, only moving faster when you pushed back against him, needing to feel more of him. You gasped with every quickening breath, the ache in your stomach was growing again. “'m close”, you breathed out, your hand tightening the hold on his.

With his nose he gently nudged your cheek. “You know what to do”, he said breathless.

You shook your head quickly, whining desperately. “No, no, no, nonono, please, need you to touch me. Please.”

“Aw, but you did so well earlier.” He planted a kiss to your jaw, then moved his lips to your ear and pulled your earlobe between his teeth, gently nibbling on it.

“Promised...Ah... Said 'yd touch me.. all I want...” You got quieter with every word, your voice high-pitched and shaky with need.

Spencer chuckled and leaned his forehead against your temple. “Mmh, I did, didn't I?” All you could do was nod, not trusting your voice any more. But there were no more words needed. He sneaked his free hand between you and the pillows to give you what you wanted, needed.

You hadn't expected to be this sensitive, but when his fingertips slid over your clit you jolted forward, crying out his name. “Fuck...” His chest rumbled with a deep laugh against your back and he pushed your body against the pile of pillows with his own to hold you in place. In sync with the quick flicks of his fingers, he picked up the pace he was thrusting into your pussy, his hips snapping against you faster and faster.

You tried to hold yourself up, leaning your forearms against the backrest, but your arms had gotten too weak so all you could do was hold onto it with your hands in a tight grip, taking what Spencer gave you; your head hung low and nothing more then moans left your lips.

When he felt you clench hard around him, Spencer groaned and leaned his temple against yours, his mouth near your ear. “Such a good girl, taking me so well”, he panted and increased the pressure on your clit; the praise did exactly what he had intended and it sent you over the edge, with a choked out cry your back arched against him and you came, your whole body shaking. He had been close before, but it took him by surprise when you pussy clenched so hard around him that you pulled him right with you, his dick twitching and he spilled himself into you.

Both of you collapsed against the back of the sofa, breathing hard, and you let out an uff when Spencer's weight got too much. “Sorry”, he said breathlessly and immediately pulled back; you hissed when he pulled out in the same move. He moved his arm around your torso and helped you holding yourself up. You tiredly grabbed pillow after pillow and just threw it blindly to the side to let them fall to the floor. The last one was a bit difficult to get out from under you, but after you got it out you moved it to the end of the couch.

You let your body fall into the cushions, ringing for air and with your eyes closed. Next to you, Spencer got up. You reached out to him, alarmed when you heard him stumble; he luckily had regained his balance before he fell over his own feet, but his knees were still a bit wobbly. “Are you okay?”, you asked, your lips stretching into a worried smile. He huffed out a laugh and took the hand you had reached out into his, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

“Yeah, I'm good. Just wanted to get us some water.” He gave your fingers a gentle squeeze before he let go and bend down to get his boxer shorts to put them back on before he slowly walked into the kitchen. Not even a minute later he came back and handed you a glass of cold water, his own already half empty.

When you had finished your water he took your glasses and put them down on the coffee table. You lifted your arms and reached for him, beckoning for him to come back and lay down on the couch with you.

“Five minutes”, you said softly, a wide smile on your lips; you already knew Spencer was about to shoo you up and into the shower.

He huffed, but took your hand and joined you. You made him some space and rested your head on his chest as he wrapped his arms around you. You hummed content, nuzzling your face deeper into the crook of his neck, closing your eyes. After a short moment you mumbled: “Maybe ten minutes...”

Spencer just laughed and pulled you closer.

[corrodedbisexual]

@waning-croissant well... I had to.

"Nope. Outside of D&D, I am no hero," Eddie talks as he keeps walking, a step ahead of Steve. "I see danger and I just turn heel and run. Or at least that's what I've learned about myself this week."

Eddie's not even sure what he's saying anymore, he just knows that if he doesn't keep talking over the nightmarish ambience of this hellscape, he might actually go insane. Hearing his own voice, he can at least pretend like he's just narrating a game, and the rest is his overactive imagination. Not that he actually believes that, of course, it's just... irrationally comforting.

"Give yourself a break, man."

Steve reaches for him, but Eddie's body reacts on autopilot to an unexpected touch, practically slapping the boy's arm away. He's on a roll here, words still spilling right over the all-too-late pang of regret in his chest. It would have been nice to experience, that pat on the chest or squeeze on the shoulder, whatever Steve was going for, if it weren't for Eddie's perpetual skittishness.

"See? The only reason—"

"Did you hear what I said?"

"—I came in here was 'cause—"

"Eddie!"

Eddie's head snaps to Steve as he cuts off the rest of his semi-planned speech, which was suddenly inspired by the sight of Nancy Wheeler ahead of them. If he was the cowardly bard in the story, the least he could be useful for is cheer on the real hero of it. Give the courageous bat-biting paladin the motivation to keep fighting.

"Huh?"

"Do you ever stop running your mouth and listen?" Steve's brows are furrowed, but his tone isn't mean, and there's an amused smile playing on his lips. "You're almost worse than Dustin, Jesus Christ."

Eddie opens his mouth, lets his jaw hang for a second, and closes it again with a click of the teeth, as he processes the words he would have perceived as an insult, had he not been piecing together what the kid meant to Steve for the past several days. It was a bit of a revelation that their relationship ran far deeper than just some giant one-sided platonic crush on Dustin's part, like Eddie had mistakenly assumed throughout most of this year.

Steve takes a small step closer, the first one to invade Eddie's personal space for once, after Eddie's been doing it for the better part of their walk together. Unconsciously, like his body just decided that being tucked into Steve meant safety from the bloodthirsty bats, and the creepy vines, and that Vecna guy they could run into any minute.

"We all ran, all four of us. Just now, when we saw that giant swarm of bats in the distance, remember?" Steve speaks softly, waving his arm vaguely in the direction behind them. "Because sometimes, running and surviving is the only thing you can do."

Eddie doesn't know what to say to that. He just focuses on looking at the boy's eyes, like a normal person, and trying not stare at his lips moving. But then, when he pauses, Steve's eyes flicker down, and... huh. Huh. Wait, what?

"Of course you've been running. You couldn't have fought Vecna when he took Chrissy. Or Carver's crazy mob, or the entire police force of Hawkins," Steve keeps talking intently, looking into Eddie's eyes again like his gaze never wavered south. "Any more than we could fight that whole swarm. Because we'd definitely be dead now if we tried, no matter how metal you think I am," he adds with a tiny smug smile that's entirely Eddie's fault. "So there's a difference between being a coward, and acting stupid and reckless."

Steve pats his shoulder twice, then turns and keeps walking, and Eddie moves to follow him like on a tether, before his flustered brain even catches up.

"H-hey, I never said you were metal! I said what you did with that bat was metal," he grumbles, thankful for the darkness concealing his undoubtedly flushed face.

"I beg to differ," Steve turns around to tease, grinning, and pointedly tugs on his own collar. "You're the resident metalhead, and I'm wearing your vest, that does make me at least a little bit metal."

Yeah, thanks for the reminder, Harrington. Eddie's not sure what possessed him to throw that thing at the boy. At the time, he only thought of how he wouldn't survive the whole ordeal of Steve's hairy tits on display for much longer, but him in Eddie's clothes? Even worse.

"Fine," Eddie rolls his eyes and shoves his hands into his pockets, catching up to Steve in three quick strides. "Only a little bit though." He sneaks a glance at the boy; Steve's not looking back, once again on guard, surveying their surroundings with his flashlight, but the pleased smile makes its way to his face regardless.

"Doesn't matter why you jumped after us, Munson, you're here now. And don't try to act all modest when you've just saved a guy's ass. Which, by the way..." Steve turns his head to Eddie again. "Nice job with that oar. Too bad you hate jocks, you'd have made a fine hitter on the school baseball team."

Eddie gasps and grips his own chest in mock offense, even as warmth spreads up his neck and pools in the tips of his ears, thankfully hidden beneath his hair.

"How dare you, with these vile insinuations."

"I'm just saying," Steve shakes his head, laughing. "You're pretty... bat-ass, too, Eddie." He glances over again with a shit-eating grin. "Get it? Bat-ass?"

"Oh no, Steve Harrington is actually a dork with terrible puns," Eddie mumbles to himself and sighs, rolling his eyes up to the dark sky.

"Shut the fuck up, my puns are amazing." Steve elbows him in the ribs and chuckles. "You know what, I'm starting to understand why Henderson was obsessed with getting us to hang out."

What is that supposed to mean?

"He... he was?" Eddie gapes.

Another earthquake saves him from the mortifying ordeal of re-assessing the whole Munson doctrine, for the hundredth time this week. And as they hurry along to catch up with the girls, and Steve's hand grips his bicep whenever he falls behind, Eddie wonders if maybe he should just set fire to the doctrine and let it turn to ash.

[ayacokeandpepsi]

Heya gurllll!

I don’t remember if you’d make a the walk in thing (parents or a member walking in when u have sex) if u haven’t can u do it? And if u have can u make, Y/n and Riki being in a relationship and the other members wants to have “the talk”

love yaaa ❤️💋

This is kinda long lmao

Cw: smut, fingering, protected sex, making love not sex

It started off as Jake pulling Riki to the side to chat with him about “relationship stuff”, Heeseung being too awkward to bring it up with him.

“So I know you really like her, but are you.. yknow, being smart?” Jake tried to make the air less awkward as he asked Riki.

“Smart?” Riki questioned, oh god, did Jake really have to spell it out for him, god this was embarrassing for both of them. “Riki, are you… using condoms?” Jake winced as he brought his fingers to his temple, looking at the ceiling.

“What, oh, well yes! Totally,” Riki said, not wanting to bring up that you and him haven’t actually started yet. Jake relaxed his shoulders. “Okay so now we don’t have to have this talk again and we can just pretend it never happened, Kay?” Jake sighs out, patting Riki on the shoulder before walking away to join the others.

It left an idea in Riki’s mind. He should be embarrassed but, these days anything could turn him on. You tying up your hair, bending over, wearing a skirt, touching his arm, even seeing you sweat while working out. It’s not that he didn’t want to have sex, he just didn’t know how to suggest it, and with his busy schedule, it didn’t give much time to ponder complicated questions about relationships. But it was like Jake’s lecture was a sign, something telling Riki to make you his, make you feel good.

It didn’t help when as soon as he got back to his hotel room, the shower was on and your clothes were discarded on the floor near the bathroom door. He knows he shouldn’t, but seeing your used panties and bra on the floor awakened something in him. He stared at your underwear as he palmed himself through his baggy jeans, trying not to make his pleasure audible. The sound of the shower shutting off and your footprints coming to the door made him composed and act like he just got there, but seeing you in only a towel, that was way too small, it made him throb. His gaze burned into you, causing you to let out a nervous chuckle. “Hi Riki.” You giggle. Feeling bold, you got out your pjs and laid them out and dropped the towel, exposing your naked body to him. Riki’s mouth flew open, averting his eyes to the ceiling as his heartbeat grew faster.

The cool air made your nipples hard, it almost gave goosebumps to your skin, but was quickly replaced by a warm blush below your belly and in your cheeks. Instead of putting on your pjs, you decide to try out a new and tiny silk lingerie set, a cami and some shorts that didn’t cover your ass, in a blue white color. After slipping it on, you look over to Riki, his eyes not on you. You laugh. “You can look now,” he cautiously turned his head and his jaw dropped again, not expecting you to be in the tiniest pj set, seeing your nipples poke out from under the thin silk of your lacy cami that didn’t go lower then your ribcage. And the shorts, high rise to your navel but they ended right where your crotch was, the back not any better, it covering maybe half of your ass. His face was blushed now, if he wasn’t before.

“You-are you going to sleep in that?” Riki says. “Yeah, why? Do you not like it?” You tease. “No-I like it a lot,” he replies. “It’s kind of hot, I usually sleep in boxers, do you mind?” He says, already slipping his shirt off. You shake your head.

He takes off his oversized jeans along with his necklaces and some bracelets. He notices you staring, he chuckles smoothly. “You like what you see huh?” He grins. You roll your eyes and look away. Before you can realize, Riki grabs your wrist and pulls you closer to him, sitting on the shared hotel bed, holding your waist and dipping down to kiss you. He giggles when you wrap your arms around his neck, and play with his hair as he continues to kiss you. “You taste so good, hmm,” he sighs into the kiss, making you laugh.

He deepens the kiss by gently biting your bottom lip as his hands sneak up under your cami, his thumb stroking over your ribs, dangerously close to your breasts. And he knows, he grins as he feels you tense and close your legs. He pulls you into his lap now, and you can feel his hard cock against the lower part of your back as he continues to kiss you, adjusting your position so you’re facing him but straddling his thighs.

He groans as you unintentionally grind on him, his grip on your waist moving down to your hips, moving them in sync with his own hip movements, making you whine out. He chuckles again as he pulls away, kissing your neck slowly, his warm breath tickling your collar bone. He looks up at you for permission and then lifts up your cami, exposing your breasts, which he holds and starts to kiss, making you moan. His plump lips wrap around your nipples, as he groans into them.

You take off your top, kissing him as he moves your hips against his own. You move his hand near the inside of your thighs, letting him feel how wet you were for him. His ears are red as he palms your heat, his thumb rubbing over your clit experimentally. He studies your reactions, looking up at your facial expressions each time he circles your clit, your eyes closed in pleasure. You pull off him enough to take off your tiny shorts, showing him all of you. His eyes are glued to your pussy, cherishing the sight of how it shines in the hotel lighting, from the wetness. You guide his fingers inside of you, whining as he moves his ring and middle finger in and out of you.

The heel of his palm hit your clit every time his fingers went in and out of you, adding to the stimulation. You threw your head back as Riki continued to play with you above his thigh. You bring your head down again, “Riki, I want you, please,” you motion for his cock that was unbelievably hard at the moment. He smiles as he pulls the back of your neck in to kiss you, it was slow and soft and sloppy. You pull away, “Riki, look in my purse pocket, there should be a condom,” you giggle as he quickly reaches for your purse and finds one. He slips off his boxers, leaving both of your completely naked. He slides the condom on his length as you gently straddle his thigh, kissing his neck and playing with his hair, making him go crazy. He guides you down on his cock, both of you moaning as he fills you, his brows furrowed in pleasure as he focuses on thrusting up into you while holding your waist. His pace was amateur, understandably, but it was sloppy in the best way, this wasn’t sex, this was making love.

[barcaatthemoon]

Could you do one for Lia with this prompt please.

“I could have anyone I want yet… Yet you fucking exist.” 

reputation || lia walti x reader ||

it was easier to be a player than let yourself fall in love again. that was what you had been telling yourself for years, and for a while, it had worked. you went from club to club on loans and transfers. at each club, you had several flings, to the point of earning yourself a startling reputation.

everybody always knew who you were before you got to any new clubs. there was a good chance that no matter where you went, you had an ex or a friend of an ex on the team. it was pure luck that you managed to find a team willing to overlook the things that people said about you. especially one as big as arsenal.

it was your first long-term contract in over seven years. each season brought on a new club, occasionally two. arsenal was very clear about keeping you on their team. you were a talented player, and they wouldn't let rumors ruin the absurd amount of money they had paid for you. it was more than what you had made anywhere else, all for the promise that you'd behave yourself.

"is it true?" katie mccabe asked as she dropped down into the seat next to you at lunch. the two of you knew each other from briefly playing with each other in scotland. you liked her, especially the way that she played things aggressively. it was hell when you were opposite to each other, but you respected it anyway. "did you really, um, get around like that in perth?"

"come on mccabe, aren't you above the rumor mill?" katie shied away a bit, but not completely. you knew that she easily could have asked around. a lot of the girls you had slept with in australia knew caitlin and steph. there had been a brief thing with caitlin whenever the two of you had been on the same team before she came to arsenal.

"come on, nobody else is saying anything. this just isn't what i expected when you joined." katie tried not to let her disappointment show through, but it did.

"well, maybe she's changed," lia piped in. you hadn't even noticed her approach the two of you. she was always around whenever one of the girls tried to probe you about your past relations and interactions with other players. it was obvious with a few girls who you had slept with, especially in the wsl.

"lia, i'm not saying (y/n) isn't different now. i just want to know if she really got around as much as they say," katie said. at this, lia slapped the irishwoman on the back of her head. you stifled a laugh as katie finally left the two of you alone.

"they aren't this bad with other people, i swear," lia promised you. you knew that, most people weren't. you seemed to bring it out in most people, but lia had never asked you about your past. that was one of the reasons that you had fallen for her, even though you swore that you would never fall in love again.

"it's fine. you get used to it after a while. i think that you're different though, which is nice. thank you for that," you told her. lia blushed as she grabbed onto your hand. outside of work, the two of you had been spending a lot of time together. lia lived pretty close to your apartment, so you had a good excuse to always hang out. lately, things had been shifting a bit from friendly to romantic. it wasn't much, just small gestures, but it was enough for you.

"sometimes i do wonder why you haven't found a girl yet. i mean, you could have anybody you wanted if you tried," lia said. she had heard several of the girls talk about hooking up with you. not to mention the night she spent comforting leah whenever you rejected your captain's offer for dinner and drinks.

"i could have anyone i want, yet..." you trailed off as you pulled lia in close enough to whisper, "yet you fucking exist. i don't want to even think about anybody other than you. it's put a damper on my reputation, i think mccabe was disappointed."

"let her be, i like it when you're not just acting how everybody else wants you to. screw your reputation," lia said. she pressed a kiss to the tip of your nose. there was a smile when she pulled back, but that was nothing compared to the look in her eyes. it should have made you want to run away, but you couldn't run from lia.

[gay-dorito-dust]

May I please request any comfort fluff with Jiyan from Wuthering Waves if you're open to those requests?🙏😔 I need bro to comfort me

‘Are you okay?’

‘I’m sorry?’ You asked, looking up to see Jiyan stood over your seated form with conceding lacing his golden eyes.

‘Are you okay?’ He repeated, sitting down next to you, ‘you’ve been acting differently as of late and I feel as though there’s more to it than just a shift in personality.’

You chuckled humourlessly, the jig was up and you knew it but were too stubborn to accept help from anyone, especially from one who had more important matters at hand than your slight decline in mental health. ‘It’s nothing, honestly, I’m just a little-‘

‘Tired?’ Jiyan cuts you off and suddenly your throat felt drier than a desert and he must’ve known that he caught you in your one lie as he levels you with a stare, leaning slightly towards you. ‘How often have you used being tired as an excuse because people in your past have proven themselves ill equip with handling a difficult situation, despite saying false promises of being there for when life gets hard.’

‘Way too fucking often.’ You replied. ‘It’s like they were only in my life to take something from me, why? I’ll never know because they’re all gone and fucked off, like they didn’t just tore my souls to shreds snd left me to pick up the pieces.’ You concluded and it wasn’t until then did you realise that you had started to cry when Jiyan wordlessly wiped one away with his thumb.

You had let your guard slip, the one thing you’ve promised yourself to never do again in the presence of another person due to how they made it all about them; not to mention how they gone on about how suddenly they couldn’t handle your baggage before ghosting you completely whenever you tried to reach out to them again. You didn’t deserve that type of treatment and you know it, but you’ve less yourself to believe that their reaction will be how others would perceive your situation, and so you never bothered reaching out for help and instead letting it bottle up inside until you cracked.

‘I’m sorry.’ You gasped as you began to violently wipe away at your eyes when Jiyan held your wrists in his hand and brought them away from your face.

‘Don’t apologise,’ he started, ‘never apologise for your own emotions nor the people who’ve made you believe that others would turn a blind eye to your plan, for that is simply not true, but I understand that this is a hard mentality for one to unlearn after so long.’ Jiyan wasn’t well versed in comforting others, seeing as how he spent most of his life in the frontlines of the battlefield as both a medic and general, but that didn’t stop him from recognising that a misdeed had been committed against you and that he wouldn’t allow; So for you, jiyan would try his best to provide comfort that you needed.

‘Oh yeah? And who’s going to change that then you?’ You scoffed.

‘Yes.’ Jiyan answered without hesitation and a seriousness you’ve only ever seen in battle and that alone had you choke on your own words.

‘Why?’ You asked, looking into his eyes in hopes of getting the answer you wanted, you wanted to look for a lie within his eyes but his eyes only told you that he was being genuine with his words.

‘I want to prove that if there is one person who’s willing to shoulder your burdens with you, it’s me.’ He tells you. ‘I will not allow you to suffer alone during you’re in pain. So please, allow me to lend you aid in these difficult times.’

You stayed silent for a bit and Jiyan thought that he may have overstepped a boundary or two but his own worries were put to rest when you gripped onto his hand just as he was about to pull away. ‘If it’s not too much trouble for you.’

‘I wouldn’t have suggested such if it was, which it isn’t.’ Jiyan cuts you off softly.

‘Then I guess it couldn’t hurt.’ You said, slowly beginning to grow hope for this seemingly small promise.

[obaex]

four - hockey player!ex!rafe cameron (pt. 1)

summary: rafe knows he's screwed up, but when he offers you a way to make amends, you can't resist. the catch? he'll have to do the impossible.

word count: 1.8k

a/n: rafe is slightly toxic in this ngl! i am in love with this. hockey romance is very near and dear to me (this is v loosely based on a real life experience). *mwah*

You saw your phone light up out of the corner of your eye and lowered your mascara wand as you leaned over to glance at the screen and let out a shaky sigh.

A part of you knew the right thing to do by now was to block his number. You hadn't responded to a single message he'd sent for over two weeks. And the messages had been relentless.

I'm thinking about you in the afternoons.

Hi beautiful in the mornings.

I'm sorry.

You're still my girl.

And on and on, escalating to paragraphs at night, as he typed out things he'd never once said out loud to you before; about how he felt the first time he met you, the things his teammates said, about how Wheezie was asking about you and Sarah spent an hour on the phone lecturing him, about how he'd do anything to get you back.

Reading his messages was like drinking a honied poison that went down sweet, warming every inch of you, only to make you sick in the end. But you couldn't stop. You couldn't block him. And even though you'd made him think you were ignoring him, you craved every message, every word he said something you had ached to hear when he had the chance.

Now it was two hours before the biggest game of the season, arguably one of the biggest of his career. He should be focusing on his pregame routine, on his way to the rink, if he wasn't there already and instead here he was texting you. You were the one on his mind and you drank that poison down, allowing yourself to feel special, even if the text had made no sense to you.

How many?

How many what?

His last message before that was from a couple of hours ago, before his pregame nap, the one you often took together as he had reminded you, in excruciating detail.

Your fingers twitched with the urge to reply. You knew he was baiting you into responding, but you swallowed down the urge and took a deep breath to still your beating heart and went back to applying your makeup, dragging up the same memory you did every time you were tempted by him.

It was just after 2AM, and you were sitting in your car that you had driven to his apartment, unable to sleep, desperate to talk to him. He lounged in the passenger seat, staring straight ahead at the windshield, tracking the rain that was falling steadily.

"Can you please talk to me?" you whispered, trying so hard not to come across as needy or desperate.

"What do you want me to say?" he asked, shrugging, avoiding your eye contact.

"I don't know, just tell me what's going on with you? You barely talk to me anymore, you won't even look at me. Did I do something?"

He shrugged again and you felt physically sick. Maybe it was because you couldn't remember the last thing you'd eaten, the last time you'd slept more than a few fitful hours, all consumed with the feeling that your five-year relationship was running off the rails. Rumors were flying that there was another girl... or girls... And when you had asked him about it, he brushed it off, not strongly enough to give you even an ounce of comfort. You were falling apart. And he was letting it happen. He was forcing you to end this, too cowardly to do it himself.

"Do you even want to be with me anymore?" you whispered, barely audible over the pounding rain, like maybe if he didn't hear you, he couldn't answer.

He rubbed his hand over his face and sighed loudly, frustrated, like you were just so annoying to him, and you wished you could suck your words back into your mouth.

"I have practice in like four hours, I can't be doing this with you right now" he said, aptly avoiding the conversation again.

Your chin was wobbling and you bit back everything you wanted to say, not wanting to be needy, or nagging, hoping if you were on your very best behavior he would have a change of heart, change his mind.

You pursed your lips and nodded, averting your gaze to look out at the rain and gathering the strength you needed to say the words that felt like nails in your mouth.

"I can't do this anymore" you whimpered, as tears fell that matched the droplets on your windshield. "I can't keep giving 100% and getting nothing in return. I'm sitting here spilling my heart out to you and you won't even look at me. After everything we've been through... You won't even deny that you hooked up with her."

Silence.

You could see him grimace, the tic in his jaw as he pushed his tongue into his cheek. You wanted to grab the front of his sweatshirt, shake him and scream 'SAY SOMETHING!'. But you didn't. And his silence persisted a moment longer.

"So that's it then?" he said finally, like you had any other choice.

You wiped futilely at the tears that were now pouring down your face, even as you tried to hold them back, sniffling with a shaky breath to avoid outright sobbing in front of him.

He opened the car door, got out, slamming it forcefully behind him without so much as a glance your way and you broke down. You didn't make it one block before you had to pull over. You couldn't see, you couldn't breath, and you couldn't hold your hands steady on the wheel you were shaking so badly. You threw your car in park, lay your head on the steering wheel and cried.

Two days passed before the first text came in.

"I'm sorry" is all it said.

You could see the bubbles at the bottom of the screen, indicating that he was still typing before more messages appeared.

At this point you were grasping your phone with both hands, like a lifeline, eyes glued to the screen, heart hammering so hard in your chest you felt nauseous and your hands were shaking. There was a chance, a glimmer, a hope and you were clinging to it.

Your fingers hovered over your phone, ready to forgive him, to forget, to run right back to the way things had been, to have him looking for you at the end of every game, for stolen kisses in the parking lot at the arena, to whispered I love yous as you fell asleep in his arms. And then more messages came flooding in.

More messages were coming now but you couldn't read any further. Your heart was battering around your ribcage like a pinball machine with the whiplash of information: your boyfriend of five years had been actively texting another girl... because she was easygoing, and fun to talk to and didn't stress him out… like you did.

Your tears were back like no time had passed from the night you broke up, heavy sobs coming from your mouth at how stupid you felt, at all the rumors being true. And did you really believe that nothing more had happened between them? He was Rafe fucking Cameron of the Carolina Eagles.

Your eyes skimmed over the second half of his message, about how you were it for him, about how much he loved you, how he wanted to marry you and for you to have his babies?? The ache of wanting that so desperately to be true and knowing it couldn't be was too much for you as you turned and cried into your pillow.

You recalled all of those messages now as a new one came in. You shoved your finger into the bruise on your heart, forcing yourself to feel that pain again, to imagine him laying in bed, in the bed you had slept in with him, while he texted another girl, maybe even texted both of you at the same time, and you refocused on your makeup.

You had faithfully followed the Eagles for five years, his teammates were some of your best friends, like brothers to you. Despite everything that had happened with Rafe, you weren't going to miss their game tonight. Rafe's best friend and linemate Nick had texted you earlier in the week to let you know he had a ticket for you.

Fine. It was hard to say no to that. Everyone you knew would be there anyway and you didn't need Rafe thinking he had power over you if you weren't there. So, you were going. And you decided if you were going to go you were going to look stunning, and as you put the finishing touches on your makeup, there was no doubt in your mind that you were.

You had spent more time on your hair and makeup than potentially every other game that season combined. You may have gotten a little comfy towards the end, wearing Rafe's team-issued sweatshirt with his name and number on it and a pair of leggings. He claimed that he loved you in that, but that wouldn't cut it tonight. You wore skintight jeans that accentuated every perfect curve of your body, heeled booties and a tight-fitting long sleeve shirt. Your hair was immaculate and your makeup was admittedly a little extra for an AHL game, but effortless nonetheless as it amplified your natural beauty. The pain in your heart had been ebbing its way into anger: you were going to make him regret every single thing he'd done, the thought nagging at you as your phone lit up again.

You huffed. You had been strong for weeks, and now he was throwing that at you?

Your perfectly manicured fingers hovered over your phone as you nibbled your glossed bottom lip, and finally relented.

What the hell? you thought, confused.

Feeling pretty good about your level of engagement, you sent another question mark before his response came in.

You scoffed before laughing out loud. He was truly unbelievable. You weren't on some sort of barter system here. This wasn't a deal you had ever discussed nor agreed to. This isn't how the world worked, this isn't how relationships worked. It was stupid. So so stupid. And Rafe wasn't the team's lead goal scorer anyway. Sure he was good for a flashy goal every few games, maybe two, but this was the semi-finals of the league championship, everything was on the line here, it was not the time to be playing games...

...But damn if you didn't love the semblance of power he'd given you over the situation, and you desperately wanted to fuck with him.

Four goals in one game. Essentially impossible. A joke. Sidney Crosby, arguably the best player in the NHL at the moment hadn't even achieved that. But not a second passed before his reply came through, simple, straightforward, no arguing or complaining:

"Done"

And then:

"I love you!"

"I'll be looking for you 😍"

You rolled your eyes, throwing your phone down on your bed, annoyed at yourself for even answering him.

And yet you couldn't fight the smallest bit of excitement you felt.

It was impossible. It was never going to happen, but Rafe Cameron was going to try to win you back.

part two - coming soon!

taglist: @gillybear17, @palmwinemami, @moremaybank, @one-sweet-gubler, @m-indkiller, @ihe4rttwd, @diary-of-jj, @crlsummer, @jjsbank444

[ruescreams]

⌗ ᴍʀ. ᴘᴇʀғᴇᴄᴛʟʏ ғɪɴᴇ ...

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ɢᴏᴊᴏ sᴀᴛᴏʀᴜ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: ᴍᴅɴɪ. 𝟷𝟾+ ᴏɴʟʏ.

Satoru always offers to message your boobs after hearing you whining bout how sore they get. Starts off being real innocent; he just wants to help after all, his long fingers slowly rubbing against your pillowy flesh.

“Ugh-”

“You okay sweets?”

“Um-hum just sensitive...”

He tries to hide his growing hard on, not wanting to make this about himself, but you already noticed, the familiar hungry gleam in his eyes, the way he gulps nervously when you run your fingers against his undercut.

“Don't-”

“Don't, what?” You giggle, batting your eyelashes innocently.

He smirks, “Tease me-” leaning in and giving a little kiss to the left side of your boobs, as his fingers work over the right side, trying to be as gentle as he can be. You're in pain already; he doesn't want to add to it.

“But you're so cuteee.”

“Cute huh?” wrapping his lips around your sensitive bud, he suckles softly, pulling away seconds after you let out a little moan.

Pouting, you shoot him a look, “Now who's being a tease?” digging your fingers into his neck, you smile sweetly, something that always got him riled up; it was his sensitive spot after all.

“You-little-” he hisses, “that's it, no more Mr. Nice Guy.”

Oh, you were in trouble. “Toru-” you didn't manage to make out the rest of what you planned to say before his lips were on yours.

His hand moves down, his fingers pulling off the flimsy piece of fabric covering your soaking pussy.

“Would ya look at that?” raising up the fabric, he takes a whiff of it, “fuck - so wet - bet I could've made ya cum without even trying.”

“Toru!” Now he was just being mean, knowing how desperate you were, and still teasing.

“Hmm- my sweet little angel baby whore?” he coos, still holding on to your panties, no doubt planning on stealing them, so typical.

“You-you-ahhhh” you squeal, at his next move.

He wasn't even trying, barely having lined up his cock with your pussy before sliding home into your dripping hole.

“You were saying?” he mumbles, holding on to your hips to angle his trusts.

“I'm g-gonna kill you-mhhh” you moaned, legs wrapping around his waist and pulling him harder against yourself. 

Anyone could kill him now; his infinity was down, and he was too muddle-headed to care about anything other than the feeling of how hard you were squeezing him, trying to milk him for all he was worth. This was probably your favorite part about fucking Satoru, just knowing how he'd willingly let down all his guards for you.

“Heard that one before sweets,” he groaned, biting into your neck, “Why don't ya at least cream all over your husband's cock before thinking about murdering him- fuck- lemme die a happy man-”

“you-not-”

He wasn't your husband. He was Gojo Satoru, the strongest, always so smug, Mr. “Always Wins,” and a million other things, but he most definitely wasn't your husband.

“I could be-”

He's gotta be joking. “Satoru-” his name, comes out a mixture of moan and plea, you couldn't think about anything now not when you were so close to...

“Cum for me, angel-fuck, make a mess on your husband - can't fill you up unless you do - ”

His words send you over the edge, a small sob falling from your lips, as you try to pull him impossibly closer than before. You can hear him muttering something along the lines of, “I love you - love you - fuck - marry me -” before his hips start to stutter, a groan leaving him as he finally stills, painting your insides white with his hot load.

You must've been hallucinating. No way, he'd just dropped the “marry me” bomb on you while fucking you like a man on a mission.

“Marry me?”

Shit. He said it. Again.

“Satoru, you can't be-”

“I mean it,” his eyes locked onto yours firmly, “and you can't say no.”

If this was all an elaborate prank to break your heart, you couldn't tell, not from his facial expressions anyway. He looked dead serious.

Damn him and his pretty eyes, blue eyes, and his perfect hair, “I can't?” you wonder out loud, trying to figure out what Mr. Gojo “ I'm Perfectly fine” Satoru was high on.

“Nope! I'll tie ya up to our bed and, uh- never let you leave, and I'll always be with you. We'll have a couple mini us running around in no time! I can get ya a dog? Nah! Those are too needy; maybe a cat-”

You weren't sure what made you finally say “yes!” Maybe it was the way he looked so excited to have you marry him, having planned everything - hell, maybe it was the promise of a new cat. Whatever it was, that night you ended up with a shiny new diamond ring on your finger and a very, very clingy fiancé.

ʟɪᴋᴇs, ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴇɴᴛs ᴀɴᴅ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢs ᴀʀᴇ ᴠᴇʀʏ ᴀᴘᴘʀᴇᴄɪᴀᴛᴇᴅ ♡

ᴀ/ɴ: ᴛᴜᴍʙᴇʀ ᴋɪɴᴅᴀ ᴄʀᴀsʜᴇᴅ ᴏɴ ᴍʏ ғɪʀsᴛ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ ᴛʜɪs sᴏ ʜᴀᴅ ᴛᴏ ɢᴏ ʙʏ ᴍᴇᴍᴏʀʏ. ʟᴇssᴏɴ ʟᴇᴀʀɴᴇᴅ ɪ ɴᴇᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ sᴛᴀʀᴛ ᴜsɪɴɢ ᴅᴏᴄs ᴏʀ ɴᴏᴛᴇs ғʀᴏᴍ ɴᴏᴡ ᴏɴ 💀 ᴡᴀs ᴘʟᴀɴɴɪɴɢ sᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ sʜᴏʀᴛ? ʙᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀᴅs ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴄᴀᴍᴇ ᴡʜᴇɴ ɪ ᴡᴀs sʜᴜғғʟɪɴɢ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴛᴀʏʟᴏʀ sᴡɪғᴛ ᴍᴜsɪᴄ, sᴏᴏᴏᴏ ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴡᴇ ᴀʀᴇ ... ᴀɴʏᴡᴀʏʏʏ ғᴏʟʟᴏᴡ ғᴏʀ ᴍᴏʀᴇ... ʀᴇǫᴜᴇsᴛs ᴀʀᴇ ᴏᴘᴇɴ <𝟹𝟹𝟹

[dunmeshistash]

Literally right after I saw one of ur Milsiril posts today I saw another person doing a Mithrun analysis with a huge focus on Milsiril only helping him bc of ulterior motives and it makes me sad :( She’s such a soft mum that would teach her children anything. If anything she’s less overbearing than my Chinese mother

What are the arguments? I don't really get what she gets from helping Mithrun. I guess the thing she would be able to get is making him fight the demon.

But like, she's no longer a canary and there isn't really much to hint that's what she wants. This is her part in Kabru's version

My boy really fairy tale-fied his backstory, it just ends with "And from that point onward Mithrun lived only to slay demons. He ate even though he had no desire to eat. He lived on, even though he had no desire to live."

Which is objectively false, in this version it really seems like she lets him live cause he can still be used, but he can't.

This doesn't really look like a killing machine that can be used to fight demons does it. Kabru as usual oversimplified what happened cause as he said "the world doesn't need to know personal things like that"

Again with his timeline vs Kabru's

Utaya started and ended while he was still recovering, 20 years from being saved to being appointed as a captain again. I know elves see time differently but even if we do the divided by 5 that's still the equivalent of 4 years of his life if he was a tallman. I don't think that's a negligible amount of time and honestly I'm happy Ryoko Kui considered that recovery from something so traumatic isn't fast or easy.

I said Milsiril only started to help with his rehabilitation after she retired because of this bit. "Mithrun. I saw a demon in Utaya" the situation from arrival to destruction was at most one year, I can't imagine she was able to leave in the middle of it just to visit Mithrun?

So I always assumed she did it after retiring (perhaps one of the first things she did since she's still in canary uniform)

Even if she left in the middle the earliest this could have happened is 498 so at most from his 20 years of rehabilitation Milsiril was with him for 2. At the most.

To me her smile here is cause she's seeing a way to motivate him to eat

Doesn't really look like someone sinister or with ulterior motives to me, she has her eyebrows slighty furrowed and a forced tight smile. To me it looks like she's worried. The other point is that right before this scene this is what she says

Here she has a soft smile as she remembers that he was someone similar to her. I think she didn't kill him because she saw herself in him, and I think she tried to help him for a similar reason. "It was such a warped, convoluted place built from inferiority jealousy lies and anger" "We might have hit it off pretty well"

She isn't saying that to judge him she's saying that and acknowledging he was just like her. I don't think the fact she relates to him would have been set up right before she tries to motivate him to eat to show "ulterior motives".

If anything I think the ulterior motive she has is that she sees herself in him, and wants to help him to help herself. Which as 'ulterior motives' go I think it's fine.

Everytime I talk about Milsiril I end up with a huge text lmao, I think I might be repeating myself too but I wish I understood the arguments for a sinister Milsiril using Mithrun. I don't really see anything in the extras that could indicate that. And the biggest "proof" is a intentionally abridged version of Mithrun's backstory told by Kabru that ignores all of his interpersonal relationships in favor of a easy to understand cautionary tale.

Oh yeah, and Mithrun's bitchy past self that didn't trust or like anyone saying it,