#y siempre lo serás

[thefulcrumfiles]

Lo que es la construcción de la relación de Penélope y Colin y como el hecho de que Pen sea gorda impide a los demás creer que Colin podría sentir algo por ella, más que nada así lo piensa la mamá de Pen y sus hermanas...es impresionante como el friends to lovers es perfecto para ellos y como poco a poco su relación va siendo demasiado intensa e íntima y ah, realmente es una representación muy buena y es lo que toda chica gorda querría, al menos para mí es algo muy bonito y muy bien logrado, hasta la manera en que su familia no la toma enserio por su peso cuando ella es la que ha logrado más...la historia de Penélope es tan identificable y que no se olvida.

[frasesenespa-ol]

Fuiste, eres y serás con la que quiero siempre amanecer, con la que quiero siempre despertar, tú eres lo que más quiero

Solo con verte -Banda MS

[juantinarchive]

God only knows 🏳️‍🌈

[cr0wra]

qué ridiculez tan grande la de sentirme mas cómoda escupiendo mis lamentos y miserias en este lugar que compartiendo mis éxitos y alegrías. pfffddd..

[dot-tsu]

Detective Haibara!

Más arte de Detective Conan y más yo en español, uuu

He aquí la detective Haibara. Hice este dibujo por esta escena en el capítulo 176.

Me resultó muy linda y graciosa esta escena, porque es como-

jaja con los lentes no le reconocerá nadie, a lo Clark Kent

(Al final si la reconocen, pero vamos-)

Entonces, eso + mis ganas de dibujar desde hace días = Haibara lentitos 👍

[lonely--seeker]

I hate that after the spiderverse movie 2 I have to think of Miguel Ohara every time i listen to the song "Miguel Gritar"

[malkaviian]

idk, pero desde hace algunos días tengo en mente a seba con tremendo lío mental por si decirle a fox o no sobre que ahora es padrastro

[peaceeandcoolestvibes]

.

[somos-deseos]

Con amor para mí:

He madurado lo suficiente como para comprender que la gente se va, no sólo por elección sino por necesidad. No siempre sabremos la verdadera razón, no siempre nos conformaremos, pero a veces es lo mejor, será lo mejor. Primero te destruirá, te corroerá, te llevará al infierno y luego te permitirá florecer. No somos las únicas víctimas, pase lo que pase, también tenemos nuestras acciones y decisiones que debemos admitir y tal vez lamentar. La vida es más que nuestros dolores y se volverá increíble cuando comprendas que debes vivirla tú, nadie más.

— Seguen Oríah 🌻.

[colision-de-palabras]

No podemos forzar a la gente a elegirnos,

cada uno busca el lugar al cual quiere permanecer

y encontrar su rumbo,

cada corazón elige como quiere ser amado.

Somos valiosos en nuestro máximo esplendor,

brillamos de la manera

más hermosa y jamás antes vista,

por lo tanto, quien decida caminar con nosotros,

será porque realmente lo quiere.

La elección no puede ser forzada,

ni el amor ni la amistad,

son lazos que con el tiempo

se van uniendo con calma,

tarde que temprano

siempre todo llega en su momento.

[algobonitoparati]

Me salvaste y eso nunca nadie podrá quitártelo, así lleguen mil más, siempre serás la antorcha que iluminó mi vida cuando más lo necesité.

Gracias, luz de mi corazón 💚

[juantinarchive]

🤍 backstage de GOK 🤍

[americangroupie]

꩜ dirty little thing ꩜

enzo vogrincic x reader

tw: +18, phone sex

a/n: mi primera fic, no juzgar 😭pero no doy más de pensar en este chabon, disfruten

୨୧┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈୨୧

“¿y este milagro?”

sonreíste con los ojos entrecerrados, dándote vuelta en la cama con tu celular en la mano mientras soltabas un quejido. “¿qué milagro?”

“me contestaste el celular, a las–” escuchaste a enzo resoplar a través del altavoz “–¿dos, son allá?”

“dos y media.”

“disculpáme, chiquita. te prometí que te iba a llamar a penas pudiera. ¿te desperté? aún no me acostumbro a la diferencia horaria.”

enzo llevaba varios días viajando al participar de la premiere de su nueva película; premiere a la cual decidiste no asistir por la privacidad de ambos. lo último que querías era que los titulares de los artículos pasaran de habla de la película a prejuicios sobre tu relación con el.

“no, amor.” respondiste suspirando, acomodándote en la cama. “estaba dormitando nada más. yo te extraño el triple, sabés. no es lo mismo sin vos.”

se rió por lo bajo. “yo te dije que vinieras. no era necesario que me acompañaras a los eventos, podrías solo haber–”

“enzo–” interrumpiste.

“pero escucháme, ángel. te podrías haber quedado acá conmigo en la habitación, hasta tarde.”

“¿hasta tarde, hm?” soltaste una risita al escucharlo reír, imaginándotelo agarrandose la cara por tu comentario. “¿haciendo que?”

“no sé, mi amor. ¿que se te ocurre?”

mordiste levemente tu labio inferior, apretando las piernas en el momento que tu cabeza comenzó a imaginar escenarios en los que podrías estar con tu novio si estuviera cerca.

“¿estás solo?”

lo escuchaste reír. “si nena, acabo de llegar a la habitación. ¿por qué?”

“ya sabes porqué.”

“no, ángel.” pusiste los ojos en blanco. “decime.”

“porque te extraño mucho.” exclamaste en voz baja, suspirando.

prácticamente lo podías escuchar sonreír. “¿cuánto?”

“deja de molestarme, enzo.”

“pero si recién estoy empezando, mi amor.” te quejaste al escuchar sus palabras, mientras el se recostaba en su cama de hotel. “¿dónde me extrañas?”

“¿dónde?”

“¿entre tus piernas, será?”

guardaste silencio por unos segundos, estremeciéndote al escuchar sus palabras cerca de tu oído a través del celular, ganándote una suave risa burlesca del otro lado de la llamada.

“¿si, mi amor?”

“sí, enzo. mucho. no es lo mismo tocarme solita.”

gruñó. “yo también extraño estar ahí, chiquita. no hay lugar mejor que entre tus piernas, escuchando los ruidos que hacés. no sabés como extraño comerte.”

te quejaste en voz alta en forma de suplica, acomodándote en la cama una vez más al no poder estarte quieta.

“extraño tocarte,” continuó enzo en voz baja. “besarte, cogerte. un par de días sin vos y me estoy volviendo loco.”

“enzo–”

“tocáte para mi, hermosa.” es como si fuera capaz de leerte los pensamientos. “dejáme escuchar los ruiditos que hacés para mi, ¿si?”

“mhm” fue lo único que fuiste capaz de escupir, bajando tu ropa interior por tus piernas y colocando tu mano entre las mismas, frotando circulitos al ímpetu de sus palabras. “hazlo conmigo, enzo.”

lo escuchaste reír por lo bajo. “si, mí amor. yo te necesito tanto como vos a mi.”

“te necesito acá, conmigo. en serio.” dijiste frustrada, quejándote por lo bajo mientras te lo imaginabas masturbándose en una pieza de hotel en españa.

“¿que querés de mi?”

“c-cualquier cosa.”

“¿cualquier cosa? ¿me dejarías hacerte lo que yo quiera, ángel?”

asentiste con la cabeza, como si te pudiera ver. “sí enzo, sí. lo que vos quieras.”

“hm.” lo escuchaste gruñir a través del altavoz, gimiendo como respuesta. “primero te comería a besos, como siempre..” se interrumpió a sí mismo con un casi inaudible gemido, haciéndote juntar las piernas con tu mano entremedio en respuesta. “.. y luego bajaría por tu cuerpo, pasaría mi lengua por todos lados, mi amor. como siempre.”

“¿y que más?” dijiste con la voz temblorosa.

“te daría besos por los muslos, y pasaría mis dedos para ver lo mojada que estás.” gemiste, interrumpiéndolo. “te dejaría probarte. no sabés como me pones, princesa. lo que más quiero es que te corras en mi boca, y luego me dejes cogerte hasta que no puedas más.”

“quiero que lo hagas como la última vez que nos vimos.”

te ganaste una risa de su parte. “¿ah, sí? ¿en la cocina otra vez, mi amor?” asentiste entre quejidos. “no tardaste nada en acabar mientras te cogía encima de la mesa. ¿o estás hablando de cuando te metí los dedos mientras cocinabas, chiquita?”

“enzo..”

“¿ya, mi amor?”

“mhm..” gemiste, entreabriendo la boca sin poder controlar los sonidos que hacías.

“esperáme.”

“no me puedes hablar así y hacerme esperar.” lloriqueaste, haciéndolo reír. “no aguanto nada escuchando tu voz.”

“ni yo la tuya, chiquita. extrañaba tanto los ruiditos que hacés. no sabes como me tienes.”

“por favor, enzo.”

“¿por favor qué?”

“acaba conmigo.” ocultaba sus gruñidos, pero podías escuchar su respiración agitada y la forma en la que movía su mano. “por favor enzo, te necesito.”

“hazlo.”

tus oídos cesaron por un par de segundos al dejar de esperar, pero logrando escuchar los gemidos y gruñidos que soltaban ambos al mismo tiempo. después de unos segundos, lo único que se escuchaba en ambas líneas eran las respiraciones agitadas de los dos, seguidas de una risa burlesca por parte de enzo.

“un par de días más aguanta, mi amor.”

te quejaste. “no aguanto ni un par de segundos sin ti acá, amor.”

“dios.” suspiró. “me tenés como un idiota, sabelo.”

[n-u-b-e-s-n-e-g-r-a-s]

Tengo un buen corazón y precisamente eso siempre será lo mejor y lo peor de mí.

[wyvernest]

honeymoon love

previous parts - (part 1) (part 2)

pairing: miguel o'hara x wife!reader

warnings: smut, fluff, unprotected piv, creampie, breeding kink, talks of pregnancy

summary: with the opportunity of a surprise, miguel makes the most of your honeymoon

“Te amo. Tu eres mi alma”, he kisses below your temple, “mi corazón-”, he moves to your jaw and right below it, “-mi vida.”

He licks at your neck, kissing the sensitive skin with insistence, pressing himself closer to you.

“Y siempre lo serás.”

"Miguel", you manage to speak, placing the name upon a breathy, calm moan.

"I love you, Miguel. You make me so happy."

He stops in his tracks, raising his head and hoping to catch the look on your face immediately after the words left your mouth.

He's all you see, all you hear, all you smell; under the thin makeshift shelter of the bedsheet.

The proximity shrouds all your senses, intoxicating you with his low voice, the scent of cologne on his feverish skin, the stirring look in his eyes that renders you irrevocably vulnerable, willing to submit to anything he has in mind.

He replies with a peck on your cheek, full of love and sincere fondness. Your eyes meet for a quick second before you both lean in to catch each other's lips in a searing kiss, tongues slowly intertwining, a dance you know all too well.

You feel the shy beginning of a stubble graze your cheek while you make out in the comfort of the clean, cotton white sheets, and you yearn to feel more.

Your hands wander over his firm pecs, settling on his huge shoulders, palming at the muscles before hiking higher to hold the back of his head. Your fingers massage his scalp, his dark chestnut hair silky soft under your touch.

"You're always so good to me." he praises, honest and infinitely affectionate. He inhales sharply, as if meaning to continue, but he stops, muffling whatever confessions were about to exit his mouth with another kiss.

His hot palm wraps perfectly around your breast, as if you were made for him. He massages the soft tit, eliciting a whimper out of you.

"Go on, say it.", you manage to dare him.

"Say what?" he looks, at the very least, caught off guard.

"What you were thinking, just now. Tell me."

He groans in defeat, nestling his face in the crook of your neck, not missing the opportunity to kiss the over-reactive skin one more time before speaking.

"I want you to be the mother of my children.", he stops for a moment , scanning your face for any trace of doubt or hesitancy. "You're perfect, mi vida. You're all I could ever ask for, and so much more.", he attempts to urge an answer out of you. A reply. Anything.

Truth is, you have talked about children before. But whenever he would bring it up, after having seen Mayday on a casual weekend, or after having noticed you stare just a little longer at the baby aisle when shopping, you would brush it off with a fearful smile, saying that "when the time is right, it will happen".

And deep down he knew you were scared. Scared of the whole process. The pregnancy, the birth itself, the responsibilities and obligations that come with such a decision. But the very last thing he wanted to do was rush you, subconsciously or accidentally guilt tripping you into giving in and only accepting because of him.

He wanted you to want it too, just as much as he did.

Little did he know, the thought had been lingering on your mind for much longer than he would have fathomed. Every day, the fever got stronger and stronger. Everyday, the doubts and questions diluted more and more into 'I trust him enough to be sure that we'll figure it out on the way.'

And finally face to face with another one of his voiced desires, you feel the enthusiasm bubble in your heart.

"Miguel."

He raises a questioning brow, attentive and focused as if ready to pounce.

"Put a baby in me." You squirm into his embrace, your feet protruding through the white veil cocooning you as you squeeze your legs around his waist. Intimacy, my ass, you mentally joke to yourself. Anyone ski jetting by would know exactly what you were doing only judging by the position of your legs, obvious even through the cover.

But who even cares about that,

when he's on top of you, asking you to carry his babies.

Asking you to give him a child.

You watch his pupils dilate, a familiar red glow taking over his vision as he evidently loses his mind right in front of you over your admission.

You lose count of the swarm of feelings flashing across his face in a timespan of a few seconds.

"I wasn't joking." He forcibly chuckles at the end of the warning, wanting you not to feel in the least bit intimidated or pressured.

"I wasn't either." You're quick to reassure him, brushing a wild strand of hair from his face.

He almost can't believe it.

His brain is short-circuiting.

But before he can ask again, because you know him well enough to tell that he was going to, you pull him into another kiss, more violent, more powerful. One of the kisses you give him when he's back from a long mission, tired and bitter, when you've missed him for so long you could've sworn you'd go insane if you had to stay one more second without him by your side.

He returns the same need, taking the chance and slipping one hand in between you, pulling your summer skirt down your thighs along with your soaked panties.

You shudder at the feeling of his warm hand so close to your core, your body reacting before you could fully process what is about to happen.

With a gasp, you break apart to breathe as the precum-stained head of his cock comes in contact with your cunt, threatening to breach you.

You feel its generous length drag along through your folds. Even with impatience heavy in the air, he carefully prepares you for him. He knows you’re fragile, he knows it's difficult for you to take all of him, and for whatever self-control he has left, he wants to make it well worth it.

Your brows crease in slight pain as he pushes in with a groan, feeling the wet heat of your pussy swallow him inch by agonising inch.

Through barely open eyes, you see him stare down at you.

A horde of fantasies are running wild in his head, but his lust-addled brain stops at one, one that has him nearly drooling on the spot.

He sees you, finally pregnant, breasts overflowing with milk, in a delicate yet flimsy summer dress that flaunts everything that makes you so beautiful to him, everything about you that makes you, you.

Nothing less than a goddess.

But most of all, he sees you by his side.

An arm hooked around his, proud to call him the father of your child.

By his side, for everyone to see. To see that you're his.

He lunges forward with no warning, his hips colliding with the soft flesh of your ass. Strong hands curling around your waist with a bruising grip, he starts making love to you. Avoiding a steady pace, he delivers deep, fast thrusts before drifting into slow, dragged out strokes, only to resume the rough ones again.

It's torture, yet you're drowning in pleasure.

You feel every ridge and vein of his cock, the tip brushing against weak spots you didn't know you had with every drive of his body into yours.

He knows he won't last, yet he wants to prolong your pleasure for as much as he can.

His head falls back into the crook of your neck, hot, shallow pants puffing onto your flushed skin. He groans in pure bliss, the intensity of his feelings nearly pushing him over the edge prematurely. You moan his name, hands travelling over his back and into his hair, not aiding him in his struggle to last longer.

"Te amo. Te amo tanto." (I love you. I love you so much) He begins, grunting in your ear, offering you the deepest of his thoughts in the most vulnerable point he had gotten, "No puedo - ugh, no puedo vivir sin ti." (I can't live without you.)

You can't do anything but whine broken fragments of his name, hoping that he'll catch on to the fact that you're so deep in raw pleasure that any coherent thought would mean ripping yourself apart from the euphoria.

"No puedo respirar sin ti." (I can't breathe without you). He rasps low as you flutter around him, earning yourself a strangled moan from the man on top of you.

"Ah, mierda-", He starts to lose his rhythm, the bed creaking under every thrust of his fat cock into your tight heat.

Your blurred attention falls upon his biceps, impossibly big compared to your meagre shape underneath him, flexing by your sides each time his abdomen undulates to drive his dick into you.

You feel claimed. Owned. In the best ways possible.

But most of all, you feel loved.

Suddenly, you feel him stagger, arms flexing hard, his whole body going rigid against you as a low groan shatters in your ears. Through your climatic haziness, you feel his dick twitching inside your walls as he comes. You can’t help the whine it squeezes out of you, the symphony of your pleasured screams compromising whatever secrecy you could have hoped for.

He lets himself collapse on top of you, knowing that the comfort of his body weight on you gifts you an extra feeling of intimacy every time he can't help but try to catch his breath, face pressed snugly into your neck.

You turn your head, coming down from your own high, kissing his forehead, caressing his back with the one hand you managed to squeeze out from under him.

"You make me the happiest I've ever been." he mumbles, defenceless and open.

And you swear you haven't ever been happier yourself.

[peaceeandcoolestvibes]

.