#react and recoil

[stiwfssr]

[bookwyrminspiration]

"if elves all looked perfect it'd be unsettling actually" "they should be so pretty it's uncanny" you mean like in twilight? like the twilight vampires? you want the elves to look like the twilight vampires?

[dudewotheck]

imagine the adjudicator has no facial injury and mans is just viscerally taken aback by how hot she is

[faillen]

i'm just having fun interpreting the way Peach acts on the couch during ep. 4 as the practiced nonchalance of a man who fucked Home sometime between the last episode and this one and told Home that it was a one-off that he didn't care about. Home is doing the same thing.

But neither of them believe the other, and the whole couch situation is part of a series of intricate rituals to make each other break.

[demonir]

puts first ep of good omens on then immediately gets jumpscared

[longbeachgp]

me watching vanderpump at peak “we’re tired of tequila Katie‼️ she’s such a bitch” narratives rn and it’s like. Is it wrong that I’m continuously on her side throughout all this?? Am I the problem???

[asadmukhtarr]

State management is one of the most critical aspects of building React applications, especially as apps scale and become more complex. React provides several tools and libraries to handle state management, each with its strengths and weaknesses. Three popular choices are Redux, Context API, and Recoil.

In this guide, we will compare these three state management solutions, discussing their key features, pros, and cons, helping you choose the right one for your project.

[neo--queen--serenity]

There’s just something extremely touching about watching Izutsumi work through a wide range of emotions when she sees Marcille cry for the first time.

She’s sleeping on Marcille’s lap when it happens—something she hadn’t willingly done since her human consciousness was subdued in the Golden Country.

Izutsumi was initially very embarrassed when she remembered showing Marcille such unbridled affection when her monster (cat) side had full control in Melini. But now, shortly after, she did it again without any fuss, seemingly over this embarrassment.

But when she notices Marcille crying—not crying expressive tears over a situation with low stakes, but tears of real sorrow and loss—Izutsumi physically recoils.

She reacts with the childlike fear and panic that one feels when someone they heavily rely on and trust (like a parent or teacher) shows vulnerability, doubt, or weakness. She lashes out, trying to use words of reproach to get Marcille to stop crying. Or, in childlike terms, to try to force Marcille’s pain go away.

When that doesn’t work, we see her physically struggle as she tries to sit by and wait it out. But Izutsumi can’t do it.

Marcille’s pain causes her so much intense distress that Izutsumi immediately offers physical affection as a response—something she has not done for anyone up to this point.

When Senshi told the party about his traumatic backstory, Izutsumi did not touch him. She did support him, tried to offer words of comfort, but she did not embrace him like the others did. Maybe she didn’t know how; maybe she didn’t have a proper example on what comforting someone looked like. But she saw all three of them reach for Senshi, she saw them hold him in their arms, and anchor him as he cried.

This is the first time another party member has cried out of sadness since that moment. It’s possible that she saw how the others helped Senshi, and maybe, subconsciously, she saw that it worked. That it made him feel better.

She is clearly unused to it, and has her own rollercoaster of emotions as Marcille gratefully accepts the comfort Izutsumi is offering her. But it helps. It helps Marcille immediately, and Izutsumi knows this.

These acts of vulnerability are foreign to her, and thus make her feel uncomfortable, but she lets Marcille lean on her afterwards anyway. She wanted Marcille to be okay, wanted it so badly, that she accidentally overcame an emotional obstacle she never even knew she had.

[gossamyrrh]

monsterfucking, breeding, dubcon? ୨ৎ part two to this !

one of the many, many benefits of having an alien for a boyfriend is his extra appendages!

you had been blissfully ignorant of their existence, having thought that though choso isn’t from this world, your anatomies were relatively similar. sure, his skin has a pearlescent hue to it, and his ears are sharp at the tips rather than rounded. but his lips, his hands, his body—everything else seemed exactly the same…

it’s when he has you caged beneath him—body pressed flush against yours, rolling his hips in steady, fluid strokes, cock stretching you open—that you quickly learn otherwise…

he’s gasping in your ear, moaning and warbling lowly, thin brows furrowed as he nips at your shoulder. “g-good.” he groans. “you feel…good .”

his teeth graze across your skin. not enough to break it, but enough to make you squirm. back arching into him.

and then you feel it.

something warm. viscous.

initially, you don’t think much of it, taking it to be choso’s cum, or pre, or maybe even something from you. what else could it be? but then you feel it move—them move. the sticky warmth traveling up your thigh….and suddenly you feel it everywhere.

sinuous tendrils press against your stomach, pulse against you, twitching like they’re alive. no, they are alive.

“choso—?”

you gasp, voice breaking on a moan as one of the tendrils brushes your nipple, rubbing against the oversensitive bud.

“d-did… did you just grow extra limbs?” your voice is breathy, caught between shock and fascination.

he slows and makes a noise—something like a nervous whirr—eyes blown wide. “nnnh. no. always there.” he hesitates, his brow furrowing. “hide… before.”

your stomach flips. you don’t know if it’s from the revelation or the fact that he’s still mercilessly pounding into you. still, you ask: “why?”

choso tilts his head, contemplating, his lips pressing together like he’s trying to find the right words. “mm. you… might… fear?”

oh.

your chest aches at the thought. that he had hidden a part of himself from you, worried that you’d recoil. that you’d think he was strange. monstrous.

slowly, deliberately, you reach out, running your fingers along the slimy tendrils before you grasp one. holding it tight within your fist. the moment you touch it, choso sucks in a sharp breath, a low, shivery hum rolling from his throat.

your lips part. “you can… feel that?”

his cheeks darken and his gaze slants. “sensitive.”

you test your grip, stroking along the length of one tendril, feeling the way it pulses under your fingers. it flexes against your palm, writhing slightly—almost needy.

choso whimpers. his thrusts falter, then resume, a little rougher now, his cock dragging deep with every roll of his hips. he makes a broken noise in his throat. whines like he's being tortured. pleading.

the tendril wiggles from your grasp, curling around your wrist instead. the other slithers up your body, trailing over your collarbone before sliding along your jaw, pressing at your lips.

testing.

you hesitate, and choso lets out a soft, desperate whimper, his cock twitching inside you. his body tenses, his muscles taut with restraint—but his tendrils don’t have that same hesitation. they want.

you part your lips, and the appendage just takes.

it thrusts itself inside, roughly shoving past your lips, slick and warm as it glides over your tongue, tasting overwhelmingly of salt. it roams around, forces itself deeper and deeper until you're forced to make room for it.

and the second you hollow your cheeks around it—

"nnnh—!"

choso breaks.

his hips snap forward, driving his cock deep, his breath coming in gasps as his tendrils react—tightening around your wrists, your thighs, everywhere. the one in your mouth pulses, pushing just a little deeper, flexing against your tongue like it’s searching for more.

you’re choking. gasping for air, at this point. wholly convinvced you might pass out as the appendage thrusts in and out of your mouth roughly. without care.

you push at choso. let out a soft whimper. but there's nothing you can do but gag. take it.

your throat tightens around it; choso wails.

his whole body trembles, his thrusts erratic, desperate. you’re overwhelmed—sensitive from his relentless pace, from the way his cock fills you, from the way the tendrils curl and pulse against your skin like they’re just as needy as he is. hot tears brim in your eyes at the entirety of it all.

your own pleasure spikes, your body clenching around him as heat coils tight in your belly.

"too—mmph—!" your words are lost around the appendage bruising your mouth, your throat bobbing around the thick, pulsing shape as your body tenses.

and choso feels it. his tendrils feel it.

everything tightens.

and then—

"hahh—ahh—!"

his cum spurts inside of you, warm and filling, but the tendrils don’t stop.

they keep flexing, pulsing, using your body to milk every last drop from him. his cock barely softens before one of the tendrils at your thigh coils around the base, tightening, keeping him inside you, keeping him hard.

choso shudders, his warbling cry dissolving into a low, breathless hum. his body sags against you, his muscles trembling from overstimulation.

but the tendrils don’t care.

they flex. pulse. twitch.

choso whimpers against your throat, his voice raw. “i—ahh—i… s’too much…i can't...”

but it isn’t up to him anymore.

not with his tendrils still moving.

not with his cock still twitching, readying itself again.

and you realize—

neither of you are getting any rest tonight.

[flwrkid14]

The Curious Case of Phantom

It starts during patrol.

At first, Tim barely notices the small, white blur with eerily green eyes trailing behind him as he scales rooftops and darts through alleys. Gotham’s stray population is no joke, so he figures it’s just another cat—until it keeps happening. Night after night, the same cat follows him like a shadow, no matter how far or fast he goes.

He tries to lose it, but somehow, it always finds him. And soon, he realizes the cat isn’t just following him—it’s helping.

One night, the cat leaps from a rooftop and claws a mugger who’s sneaking up behind Tim. Another night, it leads him to a drug deal in progress, meowing insistently until Tim follows.

It’s eerie how good the cat is at finding trouble, but it’s also undeniably useful. Tim names it Phantom, mostly because of its hauntingly white fur and the way it moves like a ghost in the shadows.

He’s not ready to admit that he’s started looking for the cat on patrol, waiting for it to show up like some unofficial partner.

———

Then Phantom starts showing up at Tim’s apartment.

The first time, Tim finds the cat sitting on his fire escape, staring at him through the window. He brushes it off as coincidence. But then it happens again. And again. Every night, Phantom is there, waiting.

Tim tries ignoring it, but Phantom doesn’t scratch or meow—it just stares, patient and expectant.

Eventually, Tim gives in and lets the cat inside. Phantom struts in like he owns the place, jumps onto Tim’s desk, and curls up right on top of his notes.

“Guess I have a cat now,” Tim mutters, scratching behind Phantom’s ears.

Phantom quickly becomes a fixture in Tim’s life.

He lounges on Tim’s lap during stakeouts, naps on his keyboard, and somehow always knows when Tim needs a break. Phantom is weird, though. His movements are too precise, too deliberate, and sometimes Tim swears he’s glowing faintly green.

But Tim doesn’t question it too much. Phantom’s good company, and Gotham’s seen stranger things.

———

The family eventually notices Phantom soon enough.

“You adopted a stray?” Dick asks when he visits Tim’s apartment. He crouches to pet the cat, who immediately swats at him. Dick recoils, laughing. “Okay, wow. Even the cat thinks I’m beneath him.”

“He doesn't seem to like new people,” Tim mutters, watching Phantom hop onto his desk like nothing happened.

Steph is obsessed. “He’s adorable! Can I post him?” she asks, taking a hundred photos of Phantom lounging on Tim’s keyboard. “He’s like your spooky little sidekick.”

Jason, on the other hand, has a reaction.

“WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?” Jason yells the first time he sees Phantom.

Tim frowns. “It’s a cat, Jason. Calm down.”

“No, it’s not! That thing is glowing green, Tim! It’s haunted or radioactive or something!”

Tim rolls his eyes. “He’s just a cat.”

Jason isn’t convinced, but Phantom doesn’t care. He just glares at Jason like he’s the dumbest person in the room and stretches out on the couch.

Damian, though, reacts... differently.

The second Damian sees Phantom, he freezes.

“This cat,” Damian says, voice trembling with reverence, “is extraordinary.”

Tim barely has time to blink before Damian has his hands full of silk-lined cat beds, imported food, and custom collars engraved with “Phantom, the Great.”

“He’s my cat, Damian,” Tim says when Damian tries to scold him for not brushing Phantom’s fur properly.

“You are unworthy of him, Drake,” Damian snaps. “This is a creature of unmatched perfection, and you’re treating him like a common house pet.”

Tim sighs, but Phantom climbs into his lap and starts purring loudly. Damian looks betrayed.

“Traitor,” Damian mutters at Phantom, who clearly doesn’t care.

———

But Phantom isn’t just a cat.

Danny Fenton—currently stuck in his ghost form as a cat and unable to shift back—has been following Tim for weeks, hoping the smartest Bat could help him figure out how to fix his situation.

At first, it was desperation. Danny didn’t know how to communicate with Tim or explain what had happened to him. But then Tim let him in, fed him, and started treating him with such quiet care that Danny couldn’t bring himself to reveal the truth.

Phantom became his escape. For the first time in ages, Danny didn’t have to fight or run or worry about anyone discovering his secrets. He could just... exist.

And, okay, messing with the family was a bonus.

Danny knew he couldn’t stay a cat forever, but with the way Tim scratched behind his ears and muttered soft compliments, he thought, Maybe I can stay like this for a little longer.

Or maybe a lot longer. Phantom had a good thing going, after all.

[gf2bellamy]

Could you do something like spencer x reader getting kidnapped together and unsub hurting her in front of him, really angst but fluffy at the end. Thanks!

bruise — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n) content warning: reader being kidnapped and tied up , reader being knocked out, mention of having a bad headache and having bruises a/n: hii thanks for your request ! hope you like this

Your breath came in shallow gasps as you stared at Spencer, fear tightening in your chest. The dim, flickering light overhead cast shadows across his face.

His jaw was tight, his fingers flexing instinctively against the ropes binding his wrists, but there was nothing he could do.

“We’ll be okay,” Spencer murmured, his voice reassuring despite the uncertainty in his own eyes. “They’re gonna come get us.”

You nodded, but the reassurance didn’t quite reach your heart. You wanted to believe him, but the pounding of your pulse, the cold ache in your limbs, and the burning pain from the tight ropes around your wrists told a different story.

You were trapped.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you knew the team would come. Hotch, Morgan, JJ, Emily—they would tear this city apart to find you both. But when? And would it be too late?

Your lips trembled. “I’m really scared,” you whispered, barely loud enough for Spencer to hear. A single tear slipped down your cheek.

Spencer’s fingers twitched again, as if his body ached to reach for you, to wipe that tear away. But he was just as helpless as you.

Instead, he locked eyes with you.“Just focus on me,” he said softly. “We’re going to get out of this.”

You wanted to believe him. You needed to believe him.

Then, the sound of approaching footsteps shattered the fragile moment.

You stiffened, your body instinctively recoiling as heavy boots scraped against the concrete floor. Spencer’s muscles tensed beside you.

Then, the unsub stepped into the dim light, looming over you like a shadow of something inhuman.

"Look at that," the man sneered, his voice dripping with amusement as he stared down at you. "You’re scared, aren’t you?"

Your blood ran cold but you didn't reply.

The unsub didn’t even look at Spencer. His focus was entirely on you.

The unsub’s smirk widened. "I don’t like it when people ignore me," he muttered, before his hand snapped forward, striking you hard across the face.

Pain exploded across your cheek, and your head snapped to the side. A sharp gasp left your lips as your vision blurred for a moment.

“Whatever you think you’re doing, it won’t work,” Spencer said slowly, trying to distract the unsub from you. “The team—”

The unsub’s laughter was sharp and cruel. “The team?” he mocked, stepping closer to you. “They’re too late.”

Spencer’s entire body went rigid. “Stop,” he snapped, his voice desperate now. “Hurt me instead. Leave her alone.”

The unsub barely spared him a glance. “Oh, I will,” he promised darkly. “But first, I want to see what she can endure.”

Spencer struggled against the ropes, his wrists raw from the effort. “Please,” he begged, something breaking in his voice. “Don’t hurt her.”

Spencer’s heart pounded as he watched you try to keep yourself upright, your head swimming from the impact. He knew you were strong—he’d seen you fight through so many impossible situations before—but this? This was different.

And then, before either of you could react, the unsub raised his arm and slammed the butt of his gun against the side of your head.

The world spun. A dull ringing filled your ears. The last thing you registered before everything faded into black was Spencer yelling your name.

And then—nothing.

The first thing you registered was the rhythmic beeping of a monitor. The bright overhead lights were blinding as you forced your eyes open, and for a moment, everything was a blur—white walls, sterile air, the scent of antiseptic.

You groaned softly, your body aching in ways you hadn’t even realized were possible.

“Hey, you’re awake,” a familiar voice said beside you.

Blinking against the light, your vision slowly adjusted, and you turned your head to see Emily sitting next to your hospital bed. She was smiling, but the concern was evident in her eyes.

“Spencer,” you rasped, your throat dry. “Is Spencer okay?”

It was the only thing on your mind. The last thing you remembered was the panic in his voice, the way he had yelled your name before everything went dark.

Emily’s expression softened. “Yeah, he’s okay,” she reassured you. “Just a couple of scratches. He’s been worried sick about you, though.”

Relief flooded through you so quickly that you almost felt dizzy. You exhaled shakily, your body sinking deeper into the hospital bed.

“Did you catch him?” you asked, attempting to sit up, only to wince as pain shot through your skull.

Emily reached out instinctively, her hand hovering near your arm as if ready to steady you. “Easy,” she murmured before nodding. “Yeah, we got him. Hotch and Morgan took him down not long after we found you.”

You let out another breath. It was over.

"Good," you mumbled, your voice still weak. You glanced at Emily, gratitude shining in your eyes. "Thank you."

Emily’s expression softened, and she gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze. "I’m just glad you’re okay," she murmured.

You managed a small, appreciative smile.

"I’ll go tell Spencer you’re awake," she added, withdrawing her hand and standing up. She lingered for a moment as if making sure you’d be okay on your own before finally heading toward the door.

As soon as she left, you let your head sink back into the pillow, exhaling loudly. The relief of knowing the team had caught the unsub was overwhelming, but the haunting images of what had happened still lingered in the back of your mind.

Your body ached, your head pounded, but above all else, the only thing that truly mattered was that Spencer was okay.

The door creaked open, slow and hesitant. You looked up just as Spencer stepped inside.

His wide, anxious eyes found yours immediately, scanning every inch of your face as if making sure you were really there.

That’s when you noticed the light bruise forming on his cheek.

“Spence,” you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper.

He hesitated in the doorway, as if unsure whether he was allowed to be there.

“They wouldn’t let me stay,” he said, almost apologetically. “They wanted to monitor me, just to be safe.”

You could hear the frustration in his voice, like the idea of being kept away from you was unbearable.

A small, relieved smile ghosted over your lips. “I’m just so glad you’re okay.”

Spencer finally moved closer. You ignored the dull, shooting pain in your head as you pushed yourself up to sit properly.

Spencer’s brows furrowed. "You shouldn't be sitting up yet," he scolded gently, but the words were nearly drowned out by the sheer relief in his voice.

He was standing right next to your bed now, his fingers twitching at his sides like he wanted to reach for you but wasn’t sure if he should.

But you didn’t hesitate.

With all the strength you could muster, you reached for his hand, gripping it tightly.

And Spencer let out a breath—one that sounded like he’d been holding it ever since he saw you unconscious.

"I'm okay," you reassured him softly.

Spencer’s fingers tightened around yours, his grip warm. His eyes flickered over your face, still searching for any signs of pain.

"You scared me," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. His thumb absentmindedly brushed over your knuckles.

You swallowed, guilt mixing with the relief in your chest. "I scared myself," you mumbled with a small, breathy laugh.

Spencer exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "We shouldn’t have been there in the first place. If I had—"

"Spence," you interrupted softly, giving his hand a squeeze. His gaze snapped back to yours. "We’re here. We’re safe."

His lips pressed together, like he wanted to argue, but instead, he just nodded.

For a moment, the hospital room was quiet, the distant beeping of machines the only sound between you. But Spencer still hadn’t let go of your hand.

You shifted slightly, ignoring the way your body protested, and tugged at his arm. "Sit with me?"

He hesitated, but when you pulled again, he finally caved. He carefully sat on the edge of the bed, still holding your hand, but this time, he used his free one to brush a strand of hair from your face, his fingers feather-light.

"You have a bruise," you murmured, reaching up to ghost your fingertips over the one on his cheek.

Spencer barely reacted to the touch, but his eyes softened. "So do you," he pointed out.

"Guess we match, then," you said with a tired smile.

Carefully, hesitantly, he leaned in, pressing the softest, most fleeting kiss to your forehead.

Your eyes fluttered shut at the warmth of it, the way his breath lingered against your skin for a second longer than necessary.

Spencer leaned back , exhaling as he whispered, “I’m really glad you’re okay.”

[velvetcrimsonkisses]

Spank me, Slap me, Choke me, Bite me

(Gojo, Geto, Toji, Nanami, Choso, Sukuna)

Gojo Satoru

As much as Gojo loved trying different sex positions. You always ended sex in missionary. He loves to have you stuck under him, not able to move because he’s pressing all his body weight onto you. He loves to watch your cute face as he’s deep inside you. He loves to hear all the sounds you make that bless his ears. He loves to caress your soft and silky skin, especially from your neck to your chest. He loves to bite. 

His hands travel down to grip your waist as he looks down at you with a smirk. Blue eyes sparkling with lust for you. “You look so good…” He buries his face in the crook of your neck. “And you smell so good…” 

“Toru…” you cry out. Your arms and legs wrapped around him, his hips snapping forwards as he sinks himself deeper into you, grazing your cervix with every single thrust. His tongue traces a path down to the top of your breast. “I’m almost there,” you utter into his ear. 

You suddenly feel sharp canines bite deep into your warm flesh. The pain and pleasure from your orgasm merge together deliciously as you come undone. A string of “I'm sorrys” and “I love you’s” leave Satoru’s lips like a chant as he fills you with his cum once again. The bite mark he left on your body to be forgotten until morning when you scold him even though you know he will do it again and again. 

Geto Suguru

Saying Geto loved your ass was an understatement. He worshipped it. Spanking your ass wasn’t anything new to him or you but his favorite time to do it was when he puts you in reverse cowgirl in front of a mirror. Making you watch as he fucks his hips into you tantalizingly, as he watches your face contort into the most fucked out expressions. One strong hand on your body for support and the other on the plump of your ass.

Smack

His hand lands on you with a delicious sting that sends a shockwave through your body causing you to let out a desperate whine. His body reacts to the sweet noises escaping your lips as he grabs your hips harshly, thrusting deeply into you. 

“You like that? Look at yourself, pretty girl.” he grunts, a free hand coming around your body to grope your tits. “You like when I spank you, don’t you baby? 

He never failed to turn you into a mess when you were on his cock. You could only give him a small nod before another heavy spank landed on the other cheek. His thrusts become more erratic as the hand from your tits falls down to your clit, rubbing as he keeps fucking you. 

“Cum for me princess…” 

Toji Fushiguro

Toji loved having you in a prone bone. He was able to feel the recoil of your ass against him as he slammed himself into you but still keeping the intimacy between you as he places soft kisses on your shoulder and praises you for how good you are taking his cock. He leans down to press his forehead against the back of your neck, his breath hot and heavy in your ear. 

“Fuck… this pussy feels so good,” Toji grunts as he keeps up the pace in his thrust, determined to make you cum. “You feel so fucking good around my cock.” 

Toji’s pace quickens as he feels you react to his words, your walls clenching tight around him. “Good girl,” he huffs with a deep rasp in his voice, his hand coming around to wrap around your neck. His hand tightens around your throat, restricting your airflow just enough to give you a rush of pleasure and help you reach your high. It took you a bit to realize he was choking you. 

“Such a good girl, can you cream around my cock f’me?” He teases you, knowing you can’t answer him but, oh did he know you would. His hips begin slamming into you with more force. As you feel your nth orgasm of the night build up inside you, Toji follows you over the edge. Thrusts slowing down into you as he spills his seed inside. Slowly he pulls out of you, once again placing soft kisses upon your body. 

Nanami Kento

Nanami liked when you would bring up new things to try in the bedroom. He lived to please you and if you liked something, he did too. So when you suggested he should spank you, he couldn’t deny you. Especially when you looked so pretty bent over his lap, in the prettiest lingerie and your ass all perked for him. 

“Are you sure about this?” He questions, running a hand over your ass. “What if I hurt you?”

“I’m so sure Ken… please,” you pout. 

“Okay” His hand comes up and lands softly on your ass. 

“Ken, like you mean-” 

Spank 

Before you can even finish your sentence. His hand lands harshly on your ass. So much harder than the first time, it shut you up real quick. “Like that, honey?” he asks you a hint of cockiness behind his voice. It took him a while to build the confidence to do it without you asking but, once he understood how much you loved it. He couldn’t stop and you didn’t want him to. 

Choso Kamo

If Choso could, he’d choose to die between your legs. The man loved your pussy. His pupils dilate at just the sight of you naked on his bed, spreading your legs open for him. Falling to his knees in front you, eyes like a predator hunting his prey, already salivating his meal. He gently gropes your thighs, his tongue begins lapping at your wet cunt. Desperates to taste every inch of it but, lately Choso had a knack for biting. 

It started off as innocent little nibbles to the side of your thighs but, soon enough his teeth grazed over your clit and he would slightly tug it. A sharp whine leaves your lips. 

“Did that hurt?” he coos. One look at that man and you could tell he was pussy drunk and you did not have it in your heart to tell him he couldn’t bite your clit. It didn't even hurt that bad anyways. Choso was always so gentle. 

“No baby… keep going” 

And he did. And he loves it. Decorating your thighs with bite marks, gnawing and pulling on your clit. He was so proud of himself for finding he could use his teeth to please you as well and your moans were only more encouraging for him. 

Sukuna

If Sukuna really wanted to hurt you, you’d be dead. You’ve seen how he tortures and kills other people with moving a muscle. So when Sukuna would slap you during sex you knew it was because he loved the way you made him feel. He didn’t know how to express himself any other way. And god, he loves that smirk you’d give him after he did slap you. 

“Yeah you like that brat?” He holds your chin in place so you can look at him, sharp nails digging into your skin as he allows your legs to come down from the mating press he had you in. 

Another slap lands on your face before he dips his head down to kiss you. His way of soothing the pain with pleasure.  He quickly picks up his pace again mercilessly fucking it you. He feels so good that tears start to build up around your eyes. 

“Such a curious little creature… you like when I slap you but then you cry?” Sukuna boasts as he punctates his words with rough thrusts. “N-no,” you whine. 

“Or is it because my cock makes you feel so good?” He whispers into your ear, his tongue lapping up the tear that threatened to fall down your face. It was about to be another long night. 

[siriuslylantsov]

sobriquet

pairing: spencer reid x reader

description: spencer reacts to you calling him a nickname for the first time.

tags: fluff fluff and more fluff, established relationship, fem!reader, kissing and all around domesticity, bit cheesy, little teasing, spencer gets momentarily overwhelmed with how much he feels but i dont get into the nitty gritty.

a/n: sobriquet is the french word for nickname. anywho i just need spencer reid to call me angel. hope you like this! happy reading :)

wc: 1.3k

◦ /ˈsəʊbrɪkeɪ/ ◦

the bright noon sun filters through the sheer curtains as you wake up, groggily pulling yourself into a sitting position. you rub at the sleep in your eyes with a low grumble. the space beside you is vacant, you run a hand over the spencer shaped chasm indented into the mattress. it's gone cold so you assume he's been up for a while, having let you sleep in, probably perched on the couch, book in hand.

you drag yourself into the living room of spencer's apartment, despite the daylight scattered across the space, it still feels cosy, relentlessly cosy. which is probably why you spend so much time here, like you are now. a rare case-free weekend off presented itself to the team, so the two of you decided on spending a lazy 2 days together.  

you bend at the waist and wrap your arms around spencer's shoulders when you find him on the couch. he lets out a slightly distracted hum, pressing his lips to your forearm in a kiss, though it's more open mouthed as you catch him in the middle of reading a passage. you squeeze him once and walk to the kitchen. he follows you, needing a refill to his coffee.

both of you work in silence, spencer engrossed in the pages in front of him as the moka pot heats up on the stove while you grab the carton of milk from the fridge. when you open the cabinet for the box of cereal that resides there, you don't find it. strange. you open the one beside it in hopes that you'd find it there, you don't.

“baby, where's the cereal?” you ask spencer, peering behind boxes and packets for a glimpse of the tell-tale red of the kelloggs logo.

his eyes dart up from his book, finally tearing away from the words. did you just call him baby?

you push up from your knees, turning to look at him expectantly, “spencer?”

his eyes are wide, eyebrows pinched up ever so slightly that a line forms in the middle, you want to smooth it out. he looks alarmed, so you cross over to him, taking the book out of his hands and setting it on the counter, turning off the heat to the stove at the same time.

“hey, are you okay?” your voice is low so as to not alarm him further, but still pressing to know what’s wrong.

apart from the alarm, his face is unreadable. “what did you just say?”

you graze a hand over his forearm, “are you okay?”

“no. before that.”

“um... where's the cereal? spencer, are you-”

“you called me baby,” he interjects. barely a whisper but you catch it.

oh. your lips part, trying to get a read on his face, you can't. “did i?” you respond meekly, playing dumb in case he didn't like it. the two of you haven't experimented with nicknames much, the relationship being fairly new and only used to addressing eachother by first or last names.

he nods, lips curling into a small smile. oh. “say it again?”

you want to protest but he's quick to stop you with a “please.”

“baby,” you chew your bottom lip nervously, searching for any recoil in his eyes, you find none. his smile only grows.

“again.”

“spence,” you whine, feeling embarrassed.

“please,” he repeats, eyes big and imploring.

you sigh, how do you possibly deny him? chagrin be damned.

“baby,” you whisper, almost cooing, as you raise a hand to cup his cheek.

teeth peek out of his mouth now, grinning wholeheartedly. his arms find solace around your waist as he pulls you in, tucking his head into your neck. you can feel his smile on your skin, and you giggle.

“i take it you like it then?” you murmur, threading your fingers into his hair the back of his head.

he presses a kiss to your neck. “of course i do, angel,” he responds, words trailing off tentatively.

angel. your brain runs circles around the way the word sounded coming from him, how good it sounded, angel. in a matter of seconds, he’d managed to turn the tables and you understand why he reacted how he did when you called him baby, you wouldn't mind him calling you angel again either.

you pull back to look at his face. he's a shy and sheepish thing when you take him in. your face isn't as unreadable as his was, cheeks flushed and eyes crinkled at the corners as you try to bite back a smile, so he calms easily. 

“that's new,” you remark, poking at his chest.

“yeah,” he says, pulling you closer as he leans against the counter. “you like it?”

“mhm,” you hum giddily, rising on your toes to kiss him. 

his lips move against yours gently as he kisses you back. his tongue prods at the seam of your lips, urging you to let him in. you nip it before pulling back.

“i've got morning breath,” you explain simply, alleviating his confusion.

he's indifferent when he leans back in, “does it look like i care?”

you give him a quick peck on the nose before exhaling a puff of hot air into his face, trying to drum up as much bad breath as you can. you laugh as his face scrunches up in mild disgust, nose wrinkled, and lips pulled into a pout. he's quick to recover though, head dipping to kiss you again. sighing into the kiss, you push his face from yours and hide under his chin. his arms move higher and wrap across your shoulders.

“in the hallway,” spencer says abruptly.

you hum into his chest in confusion, and he explains further, “the cereal is in a bag in the hallway. i finished the last of it earlier and went to go buy some more.”

“you went grocery shopping? just for cereal?” your voice is muffled against his shirt, but he can make out what you're saying.

“yeah, gotta make sure my angel is fed,” he murmurs into your hair that tickles his chin.

you groan a little at how corny he sounds but bury further into him regardless, clearly flustered. he huffs out a chuckle at your state.

“oh don't be so smug,” you grumble, lifting your head up to look at him. god was he pretty.

“angel,” he drags out, almost taunting, but inherently laced in affection. he can't help it, you are an angel personified to him, the name was only fitting. and it wasn't often that you were on the tail end of the teasing, so he's making sure to take advantage of whatever was making you all giddy as if you couldn't do the same thing to him tenfold. 

when he sees the glint in your eyes though, he knows you're about to. he braces himself internally as you hold his face with two soft hands, cradling him. he shifts slightly to kiss your palm, admittedly trying to avoid your gaze. 

“beautiful,” you start, and he's already done for, turning his head further into your hand. you're not having it, so you bring him back to you, firmer grip this time but fingers still as soft as before. “perfect,” you continue, words also firm, “angel boy.” 

you seem to have rendered him silent, an easy thing for you to do because it's you, chipping away at any and all words he had stored simply because of what you called him. it's unbelievable that a mere nickname could reduce him to this–he’ll be sure to try it on you later. but for now, he just hugs you again, dropping his head back into your neck and arms around your waist. yours loop around his neck, rooting his head where it is. 

your fingers press into his scalp, massaging lightly. you continue murmuring little things into the silence, turning your head so he hears you better. angel, baby, genius boy, pumpkin, sweet cheeks, shnookums. 

his head lifts up, bewildered, “shnookums?”

“hey! i don't know what you're into,” you lean back in surrender, hoping to bring some humour into this because frankly, he was overwhelmed, and you knew.

he lets out a low chuckle, pressing his forehead to yours and you melt sleepily against him.

“i love you,” you whisper.

“i love you too, angel girl.” 

m.list | reblogs and replies are appreciated!

[heartsiebyul]

I have a request

Can you write a oneshot where the reader got too drunk (or drank a portion) ,and when the twst character tries to get them to sleep.reader says “I CAN’T SLEEP WITH YOU, I HAVE A BOYFRIEND” drunkenly and just passes out on the floor?😅

જ⁀➴ Twisted Wonderland x reader!

Twisted Wonderland characters reacting to their drunk/accidentally potion-drunk lover who refuses to sleep near them because they “already have a boyfriend”.

featuring — Riddle : Leona : Azul : Floyd : Silver : Trey: Malleus.

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Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle’s already flustered trying to manage your stumbling, giggling form as you sway on your feet, a rosy tint creeping up his ears. "You clearly can't stand straight—just lie down. You need rest," he scolds gently, though his hands hover protectively around you like he’s afraid you’ll fall and break. But when he guides you to the bed and you pull back with dramatic offense, shouting, “I can’t sleep with you! I have a boyfriend! He’s the cutest guy in the world! He follows all the rules, and his voice gets all squeaky when he’s mad! And his name is… hic… Riddle,” the housewarden freezes mid-step.

His face turns the color of a rose, lips parting in sheer disbelief as you continue, “He’s smart and serious but gets all mushy with me sometimes. I love him sooo much…” Then, just as he reaches out, you flop down onto the floor like a sack of potatoes. "Honestly..." he murmured, crouching down to scoop you into his arms and carry you to the bed. His voice was fond and quiet. "What am I going to do with you?"

Leona Kingscholar

Leona thought you were just being dramatic when you tripped over your own feet twice. “Oi. Just get in the bed. You look like you’re gonna pass out in the hallway,” he drawls, one hand rubbing the back of his neck while the other reaches out to pull you toward the bed. But you suddenly yank back and say, horrified, “What?! No way! I can’t sleep with you! I already have a boyfriend—he’s got messy hair and the hottest smirk ever and he’s so warm even when he’s being lazy... Leonaaa...”

His ears twitch and he raises a brow, genuinely caught off guard as you blink up at him dreamily and declare, “I love his naps and the way he pretends he doesn’t care, but he always does… he loves me, I know he does...” And then you promptly fall forward, face-planting into a nearby rug. After a long silence, Leona snorts, scoops you up, and gently tosses you onto the bed before pressing a kiss to your temple. “Tch. You’re a real pain, but damn if you aren’t cute.”

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul had been nervously trying to coax you into bed after you drank an experimental potion from the Mostro Lounge menu. “Come now, my pearl, it’s clearly affecting your system—just lie down, please.” He’s about to lift the blanket when you recoil like he’s insulted you, yelling, “No! I’m taken! I would never cheat on Azul, not even if you bribed me with shrimp!”

His glasses slip down his nose as he blinks at you in absolute shock. You proceed to rant with flushed cheeks, “He’s smart and classy and his voice gets all soft when he’s flustered and he’s mine, okay? He makes the best food too...” Before Azul can react further, you collapse sideways onto the mattress, snoring. He adjusts your position with trembling hands, his heart hammering. “…What a cruel and adorable thing you are,” he whispers, brushing your hair from your forehead.

Floyd Leech

“Shrimpy~ You’re totally loopy right now, huh?” Floyd cackles, watching you sway like a seaweed strand caught in the tide. “Come on, let’s get you into something comfy and go to bed—” But before he can even tug your sleeve, you gasp and backpedal with cartoonish panic. “Don’t touch me! I love my boyfriend! He’s tall and his smile is scary but hot, and his name is Floyd and I love him!”

Floyd pauses, blinking once, then twice. Your hands are dramatically over your heart like a cheesy actor. “He hugs me super tight and calls me nicknames and he makes me feel soooo safe... and sometimes I wanna kiss him forever...” And then you crumple like a dropped puppet. Floyd stares for a second, grinning slow and sharp. “Aw, Shrimpy~ You’re the cutest. I’m never letting you go.”

Silver

Silver had gently scooped you up when your legs gave out, carrying you like a prince would in a fairytale. “You’ve clearly had too much of that enchanted cider... You need sleep.” But as he laid you down and tucked a blanket over you, you suddenly shot upright, nearly smacking his nose. “Nooo! I can’t sleep next to you! I already have a boyfriend! He’s handsome and sleepy and he rides a horse like a knight and his name is Silver!”

His eyes widened with surprise as you sighed dreamily and slurred, “He always falls asleep on me but he’s so sweet and strong and gentle... I love him sooo much...” Then you curled into a ball and promptly rolled off the bed with a thud. Silver blinked, then smiled faintly, picking you back up and settling you under the covers again. “I’m honored to be your knight... even when you mistake me for a stranger.”

Trey Clover

Trey had tried the soft, coaxing approach, crouching in front of you with a small smile and offering you water. “babe, easy now. You’re wobbling like Jello. Let’s get you to bed before you fall over again, alright?” But as he reached out, you flailed and shook your head like a stubborn toddler. “Nooo! I can’t! I have a boyfriend, okay?! He bakes the best sweets and his glasses make him look sooo hot and his name is Trey Clover!”

Trey paused, watching you babble with red cheeks. “He always helps me feel better and he gives the best forehead kisses and he smells like sugar and safety and... and... I love him,” you hiccuped before tipping sideways into his lap. A small chuckle rumbled from Trey as he adjusted his glasses and stroked your hair. “You’re even sweeter than my tarts when you’re like this.”

Malleus Draconia

Malleus had been peacefully trying to help you back to your bed after you accidentally drank a glowing potion. “dear, you need rest. Come, I shall stay beside you until you fall asleep.” But the moment he reaches for you, you gasp and point accusingly. “Back, foul temptation! I already have a boyfriend! He’s mysterious and magical and his name is Malleus—my Mal!”

The prince halts, blinking in wide-eyed surprise as you sigh dreamily, “He’s got pretty horns and says the nicest things, and I love him sooo much… even when he talks weird. It’s cute.” Then you gracefully drop to the floor like a noble fainting in a play. Malleus simply watches you in silence, then lets out a soft laugh before crouching down to lift you into his arms and carry you to the bed. “Truly, you are enchanting… even when unconscious.”

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[catboyieejeno]

NEED MORE BF MARKKK

bf! mark would be so, so easy to love effortlessly.

Just imagine the way he’d show up on your first date—a little nervous but doing his best to hide it with that signature easygoing smile. He’d bring a hoodie or jacket for you “just in case it gets cold,” with that mix of boyish charm and thoughtfulness that makes your heart race. Might overdo it with the cologne ngl... but it's unbelievably endearing.

"Jeno. Smell this."

Jeno snorts, pushing it back. “Dude, I’m not smelling your sweatshirt.”

“Come on, man. Just smell it.” Mark insists, wiggling the fabric at him.

With a sigh, Jeno brings it to his nose and takes a cautious sniff—then immediately recoils, gagging and waving his hand in front of his face.

“Bro, did you dunk this in cologne?” He gasps, holding it at arm’s length. “She’s gonna need a gas mask just to survive.”

Mark frowns, glancing at the sweatshirt. “I thought it needed a couple sprays…”

As things get more serious, he’d make a habit of sending you little surprises that show he’s thinking of you. You’d find a random playlist from him waiting in your messages one day, labeled “For you” with the one giggling emoji, filled with tracks he thinks you’d love. He’d stay up late making it, mulling over how you’ll react to each song.

He’d invite you to hang out with his friends one weekend, blending you seamlessly into his life. When you’re there, you’d see his quiet, protective side come out—he’d stay close to you, keeping an arm around the back of your chair or brushing a hand over your shoulder to make sure you’re comfortable. He might not even realize he’s doing it, but everyone would notice the way he softens around you, the way he’s always got a careful eye on you, ensuring you're having a good time. If you so much as shiver, he’d immediately offer his jacket with a shy, “Here, just take it, okay?”

And if he sees that you’re having a rough day, he wouldn’t ask too many questions or push you to talk; he’d just show up with your favorite drink or snack, a hoodie, and some silly videos he’s saved just to see you laugh. When you’re ready to open up, he’d listen so intently, holding your hand, never interrupting.

When he’d kiss you, it would start out gentle, with him leaning in a little slowly, his eyes flicking to yours to make sure to watch how dazed you become when he gets so close. His lips would be soft, barely brushing against yours at first, before he’d press in a little deeper, savoring the feeling. He’d hold your face in his hands or let his thumb trace along your jaw, taking his time. He might laugh softly into the kiss, his hands slipping to your waist to pull you closer or just hold your hips, rubbing slow circles on your skin or squeezing if you make any kind of sound. God, hearing you hum or moan during a kiss would absolutely drive him insane.

"Just like that," he'd mumble, "I love the pretty sounds you make for me."

"You like it when I kiss you there?" and if you didn't answer, he'd let his hips hover, not giving you what you want.

"How about this?" A kiss on your shoulder, "Hmm?" another on your chest, "Is this okay?"

"Shit, baby, c'mere." if you've been kissing anywhere but his lips for too long, he always finds himself craving them.

His lips would be anywhere, on the corner of your lips, on your cheek, your jaw, your neck... fingers trailing on your waist and squeezing your flesh. I feel like he's on the shyer side when the two of you are doing mindless tasks or around friends, but for some reason, when he's so wrapped up in you in these private moments, he'd groan and whimper without restraint. There's a sliver of shyness left, a tell being his flushed skin and the way he'd bite his lips, but otherwise, he's giving you his all.