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aphroditesmoon · 5 months

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'cause I love this curse on our house

clarisse la rue x fem!demigod!reader

summary: !THIS WAS A REQUEST THAT I ACCIDENTALLY DELETED! the requester wanted a fic about clarisse and reader breaking up after an argument, and after months apart from eachother, reader appears at the ares cabin at 3am because she couldn't sleep without clarisse.

warnings: sparring violence, angst, hurt/comfort, arguing, fluff at the end.

a/n: im sooo sorry I accidentally deleted ur request😭🙏 but I hope this is to your liking, and thank you for your kind words🩷🎀

wc: 3.1k

"I never learned to lose a fight, I never learned to grow upright. this is who we are."

-back to you, flowerface

----

Clarisse wondered to herself, on whether or not you'd come running to her if she were to stake this spear through her chest.

Surely, you would? Sensible, independant and stubborn you.

She knew it'd take more than some flowers and half assed apology to get you to speak to her again, and with that knowledge in her head, she isn't sure what that would mean for your relationship.

Clarisse La Rue would rather die than be caught begging for your forgiveness. She would also consider maiming herself as a last resort for any problem she's ever had.

But it has been 3 months, and everyone knows about the 3 months rule.

3 months into dating, 3 months after a breakup. And yet so far, neither of you have tried to "happy new years" your way into eachother's life again.

It is a painful observation for the girl to make. And it's more painful for her to admit that she is at least 40% in the wrong.

That is the thing about the two of you, you become abrasive everytime you're upset, and Clarisse becomes confrontational everytime she is upset. On a normal day, those traits are opposite.

The truth was, Clarisse knew deep down how flawed she is as a person, and as a lover. She is a fighter at heart.

And though she'll admit, she's one of the best out there, being the daughter of a literal war god, but sometimes it feels like that's all she's good for. Does she want to love? Yes. Does she know how to? Not really.

She loves the early hours with you before everybody wakes up, trying to convince you to stay longer in her bed before you sneak out to avoid being noticed.

She loves the intimacy of your hands instinctively intertwining in a cabin party where the music is too loud and people are brushing against you in almost every corner as they try to dance or make their way out, and no one is paying attention to how her thumb caresses your knuckles.

She loves your lips, and how they feel around her neck as you bury your head in the crook of it from behind.

And at one point in the past, she loved how easy it was to be with you. Not the deep connection or understanding, but the way you wouldn't hold it against her if she were to pretend she didn't hear say hi as you walked past her. And how you didn't mind sneaking into her bed after midnight and the darkness becomes the only witness of your loving glances and tight embraces.

But Clarisse was quick to realize later on. that she might want more than that with you. It all felt impossible. Her reputation, her need to always look the toughest and never having a visible weakspot that might be used against her in the future.

And exposing you as her Achilles' heel, would mean that everything she's worked so hard for would break down into pieces the moment the news is out.

Her father already views her as a mistake. Something that could never be his. And for that she's had to work twice as hard as any of her siblings, and still be the least worthy in his eyes.

Were you worth risking all of that? She doesn't know. She doesn't think she ever will, now that it's all over.

And what about you?

What part did you play in cutting down the fragile line of rope the two of you had stood on?

Well, you were strong, opiniated, and rational. So fucking rational that it pissed her off. While she was losing her mind watching you laughing and giggling in the corner by a tree with some random dude that looked like he was birthed by a rat hybrid during the end of year party being held in camp. You were completely fine with not being with her.

Of course she knew that whatever going on between you two was a secret, but why were you so fine with it? Are you not affected by her the way she is with you?

"I'm playing the game by your rules, this is what you wanted." You had snapped at her after she dragged you away from your boring date into a secluded part into the forest. "This isn't a game." She had blurted out in frustration.

"Isn't it? Whenever you want me, I'm there. Whenever you don't, it's like I've never existed." And you were right. This was what she wanted. Despite herself and her feelings, this was how she treated you.

"We know we're together, why does anyone else needs to know that?" Clarisse asked instead of telling you what she really wanted to.

"Are you ashamed of me, Clarisse?" She could not answer your question. I'm ashamed of myself. She thought.

Can't you see? You are the only person who's been patient enough to wait for me, to stay with me. But then I'm looking for you in every crowd just to see that you don't even notice my absence.

Oh fuck it, in the end of the day, it would've never worked. Her thoughts countered againts one another.

Clarisse La Rue was born angry, all she ever knew to be, is angry. Her shortcomings is her inability to be gentle with those she loves the most, her need to break and rip every sensitive soul that has ever pitied her enough to try and pull out that ancient rage holed up in her chest.

"You were nothing without me. I found you, I gave you something to care about, something to anchor yourself to. Cause gods, you act like you don't give a shit, but you care so much that you make yourself believe that you don't care about being tossed aside, like it doesn't hurt you when I don't look twice on your way in front of other people."

The way she looked at you as she spat each and every word onto your face, was worse than the things she had actually said.

You scoffed at her, even with tears in your eyes, you glared at her and laughed out bitterly, refusing to sob or break under her stare.

"You know what your problem is, Clarisse?" You asked, even with the cracks in your voice, her spine shivered. "Indulge me." She forced out.

"You are so miserable, that you can't stand to see anyone else that isn't. You just need me to be pissed and devestated so you could feel better about yourself. Cause Gods forbid if you don't view your self worth on how less everyone else is." Clarisse says nothing, she knew you weren't finished.

"But I don't need to fuck over anyone else's life to know that I'm good. I'm perfectly fucking fine. I was fine before you, and I'll- I'll be fine after you." And there it was. That was where it all came crashing down.

Clarisse bad one second to say fuck all, to cut down all the bullshit. To admit that for once in her life, she was tired of fighting, and she had no clue what she's doing.

But as she opened her mouth to say it all, something in the shadow of her ego had restrained her tongue from speaking at all.

And so you watched her close her lips tight, and grieved then apology she never gave, the girl she couldn’t be for you. And then you left.

Everyone steered clear from Clarisse's way, unsure of what was getting on her nerves, and not caring enough to want to know.

And that night became the last time the two of you have ever spoke to eachother.

"Clarisse." Her brother's voice snaps her out of her thoughts. He was in position with his spear.

"Aim for my chest, remember to move your feet like taught you." She instruced him, fixing her own stance. "Go."

The boy moves quickly, and just like she envisioned in her head for ten thousand times in the just a few minutes ago, her feet drags.and her hand slows down for a second- because all it took is a second for the spear to slash her chest, and slams her down on her back.

---

Growing up, you had always earned the title of the "easy" one. Compared to your step-siblings, you had caused the least problem, required the least attention, asked the least questions.

You always knew what to do. You took care of your siblings when your parent couldn't, you knew how to take care of them the way your parent would. You knew when to get things done before you were told to, you knew where the pills were whenever you weren't feeling where. And you knew which secrets were better kept to yourself.

That one doesn't need watching over, they'd say about you. Even as you're being sent over to camp quick enough before the monsters acended, you were still not worth being worried over.

Someone who takes care of others so well, sure knows how to take care of themselves, right? Right.

Of course you're self sufficient, of course even know, you know where to find medication before your sickness gets worse. Or course even now, you know just the right things to tell people so you'd be left alone.

That was the bright side of raising yourself and growing up in an environment that made you feel so alone, you get used to the silence as the company gets smaller and smaller.

But no one ever said that loneliness felt good, even as a person who's found comfort in it. Because the truth of it, is that it's the sinking feeling in your stomach that you get addicted to. It is the repetitive cycle of breaking down that feels like home, because that's the only constant thing that have prevailed in your life.

What Clarisse had given you, with her presence, her rare tenderness and welcoming touches, was something new that had altered your entire defense system. Hope. She had given you hope.

And as you stood in the house that fell all over you, surviving the damage just like you always do. You realised just how stupid you were to even think that this time it would be different.

The news of Clarisse's injury spread like wildfire. And after repressing your emotions for the longest time, you felt your chest tightening from a familiar feeling.

Clarisse have taken blows before, but never this bad, never this serious. You know that she'd heal in time, but it doesn't stop you from worrying.

How could she be so stupid and careless? Being slammed down by a younger sibling nonetheless. Even if she has no regard for her physical safety, she must have one for her pride.

She's never so easily distracted or foolish, this injury and including her little spear incident has been looked upon by others as a moment of weakness for her. They are starting to wonder if Clarisse was ever that competent in the first place, or if she has just been making it look like she is.

You tossed and turned on your bed. The sheets don't feel right against your skin. It must be the heat, you tell yourself. It must be the heat because it cannot be the deprivation of Clarisse's cold skin from yours.

Demigods do not medicate the same way mortals do, and yet without anyone knowing, you've been swallowing down melatonin almost every night to be able to fall asleep.

It's not easy to get, the last hidden stock of it from the medical room finished 3 nights ago. And if no one had noticed your sleeping problems before, they do now because of your visible under eye bags.

Your hands have been shaking, a side effect of mortal drugs. It has also been making you more jumpy, anxious.

The worst of it all is how all those symptoms only worsens your sleeping problems now. As if seasonal depression itself isn't bad enough, now you're capable of staying up all night revisiting old haunting memories.

It's easy to distract yourself in the day with all the training and learning to do.

But no one survives the cruel coldness that the night presents itself with. When your only friend is the empty ceiling staring back down at you, and the only kind of blanket you want are the ones that feels like her arms.

It was ironic, you still wanted her the way a kicked dog would still roll over if asked to.

You had left her with your head held up high. But only the gods know how low to the ground you'd kneel down to for her to look at you again the way she used to.

If she had wanted you more lenient, then she could've just asked. If she had needed you to need her more then you would've begged for her if she would've just told you.

Pushing aside the soft material of your blanket off of you, your feet barely makes a sound as you tiptoed to the door to exit your cabin.

You told yourself you don't really know where you're going. But you moved in the same way you had 3 months ago, the road is memorized, the pace is as similar, and the yearning is twice as strong.

The moom followed you from above, lightimg the way as you walked on the ground from the pavements to patches of grass.

When you found yourself in front of the Ares cabin, you truly asked yourself if you have even an ounce of shame or sense left in your head. The answer was none, all that lived inside of you was dread, ever growing. The last straw before the breaking.

The last chance that looks a little too late to be taking for.

And yet as you pull open the door ever so slightly the way you used to, you feel it being held static before a creaking noise could be made. And like memories you've seen flashing in your mind multiple times before, your eyes meet Clarisse's.

"What are you doing here?"

"What are you doing up?"

You spoke at the same time as her. Both of you looked as surprised as the other.

As you took in eachother's appearance, Clarisse looks at you expectedly, considering that you are the one who isn't at your cabin. "I...wanted to see you."

Her expression changes slightly, as if she wasn't expecting that answer.

"Weird hour to visit." She noted. "Weird hour to be up by the door after you're slashed on the chest by a spear."

The two of you stared at eachother in silence before you notice Clarisse's chest heaving as she breathed out a low sigh. "Do you want to come in?" She whispered out to you. You nod your head once and waited for her to move aside so you could be let in.

Naturally, your hand found hers. She clasped her fingers over yours without a question as the two of you walked towards her bed.

Sitting dowm side by side, you eye the outline of her face closely in the dark, some sort of relief is released in your chest. "How bad is the damage?" You asked slowly. You almost reached up to brush a strand of hair away from her face, but caught yourself.

"Could've been worse." Was her response.

"Does it hurt right now?" You inquired again. You hear her inhale sharply and wondered if breathing was hard for her. "Yeah."

"I'm sorry." You weren't sure what else to tell her. To know that she was in pain had hurt you as well, but a larger part of you did not really care for her injury. Only now do you realise how much being away from her have affected you.

Now, in much closer proximity, your breathing fans her skin, the back of her hand touching yours, and her eyes unmoving from yours, do you realise just how much you needed Clarisse La Rue.

"It doesn't hurt as much as having to watch you leave." She spoke those words in a hushed whisper, meant only for your ears. If only dhe has been a little louder. You would've been able to hear the halt in the back of her throat. "No?" You whispered back to her. "No."

"I wouldn't have left, if you would've just asked me to stay."

"I know. I know you would." She mutters it affectionately, the cold shoulder already gone. "I know you would...you've always been good to me."

You swallowed the lump in your throat and held your tears in. "Then why didn't you?"

Clarisse shrugged. "I'm never good to you."

You frowned at her reply, feeling a jolt of anger striking through you. "But you could be. Why won't you be good to me, Clarisse?" Water gathered in your eyes, your primise yo refrain from crying broken.

"I would give you anything. I would give you my life. Could you just be good to me, Clarisse?" You told yourself that you wouldn't ask this question again, no matter how much of a dog you feel like, you won't force her to give you a bone.

And so with a tear running down your cheek, you looked up at her pleadingly and thought, please, see me, want me, love me. Need me the way I need you.

Her forehead softly rests againts yours, and you hear her then, mumbling."I could be good. I could be good to you."

Her thumb finds the wet streak on your face and wipes it off. "I want to be good to you."

"Then do that. It's that easy." She shakes her head lightly, making your frown deepens. "I've had to be this person that everyone expects me to be, because of my father, and my siblings. Sometimes giving in, feels like it could be death itself. Sweet dreams before you wake up in hell. That's what it feels like trying to be the person you want me to be. Punishment worthy."

"But it isn't death, Clarisse. Not just because someone else thinks it should be.

- Not just because your father thinks so."

"I know." She answers with a more reassuring tone.

"I haven't been able to sleep without you." You tell her out of obligation. "I can tell." She joked, the both of you chuckled lightly.

Clarisse then crawled over her bed to lie down and tugged you by your sleeve to find your place in her embrace again.

Laying your head above the area her chest was struck on, her beating heart becomes your lullaby. You fell asleep soon after, with your legs tangled together under the covers. Whatever was to happen tomorrow, it wouldn't matter. Because the worst was over.

#clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #pjo series #pjo tv show #dior goodjohn #pjo #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackson

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buckysmith · 2 years

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You’re pregnant with his baby + birth

Warnings: mention of infertility, weapons, childbirth

Includes: Ghost (Simon Riley); Soap ( John MacTavish); Alejandro Vargas

Ghost:

- You would feel really unwell, always tired, hungry or sitting in front of a toilet and puke your heart out.

- Than it would hit you like a truck. You’re pregnant.

- Of course you would take a pregnancy test an yep, you’re very much pregnant.

- while he’s working he only calls once in a week, only a few seconds calls so nobody would track you positions or his.

- You would wait for Simon to come home before telling him the news, you don’t want to distract your husband

- He keeps you somewhere safe, somewhere where he knows nobody would ever find you so the moment he’s back with you, you would tell him the news.

- He’s shocked

- completely shocked.

- He never thought he would ever get the chance on being a father because of his job.

- He would kneel down, placing his hands on your tummy and would gently lay his forehead against it

- He wouldn’t say anything in those minutes, but his actions are clear as glass.

- Honestly he would start to sob

- He would sob against your tummy how much he loves you, how much he loves his child, how he could deserve all that

- He did spoil you rotten before you got pregnant but believe me, after he knows you’re caring his child everything he’s done before is nothing

- He would try to be with you more often especially when the time comes you come near your due date

- a lot of belly, feet, back rubs

- He knows how difficult it is to carry a baby (he read a lot of books) and he wants you to be as comfortable as you could possibly be in a time like that

- He talks a lot to your belly and he loves to touch it too

- You don’t know but this man is already planning to get you pregnant again

- He loves to hug you from behind, placing his hands on your tummy and innocently kiss your neck while he murmur sweet nothings into your ear

- The day you give birth, this man his on the edge of fainting

- He loves you dearly and to see you in so much pain, hearing you scream while you almost brake his hand he definitely faints

- He has killed so many people, saw so much worse than a childbirth but it was just way too much for him to handle

- you definitely make fun of him after your baby girl/boy is born

- After birth he would hold you in his arms while you get your deserved rest, looking at the baby that lays on your chest.

- No matter the gender, this man is overprotective the moment he looks at your baby

Alejandro:

- You wouldn’t notice it at first

- You wouldn’t have any of the pregnancy symptoms, not even a single one

- It would be his mother that notice it

- She would ask you about when your last period was and you would tell her two months ago, nothing you would worry of because sometimes your period just decided to take one or a two month break

- She would buy you a pregnancy test while you’re telling her you can’t be pregnant cause you don’t have any symptoms

- Guess what? She’s right and u’re wrong

- She definitely loves you like you her own child so to know you’re pregnant, her momma bear mode is on

- She wouldn’t tell Alejandro nor any other of his family.

- It’s your and Alejandro’s child, he’s the first person who should know about his luck

- You know he always wanted children but also was scared to have them because he could die and wouldn’t be there for you and them

- You waited for him to come home, cooked a nice dinner and after you both made yourself comfortable on the couch cuddling with each other you would simply mumble in his ear something along the line of “vas a ser papi mi amor” (you're going to be a daddy my love)

- He would immediately push you a lil bit away just to get a better look at you. While he asks with hope and tears in his eyes if he's really going to be a father.

- You wouldn’t say anything and just nod because you would already be near to start crying

- The moment you nod he would start crying with joy, hugging you tight and kissing you with so much love I can’t even describe it

- A few days later he would have to go again, leaving you with his family

- His family treats you like a queen while he treats you like a goddess so you wouldn’t have to worry about anything but Alejandro’s safety.

- He would try to visit you more often but it’s dangerous so most of the time you both could only see each other on FaceTime

- He would be there the moment when you go into labor and would support you throughout the hours of pure pain.

- After the birth you would lay against his chest, sleeping and getting your deserved rest while he holds your baby.

- If your baby is a girl- believe me this man would treat her like a princess, he would do anything for her (but believe me, no matter the gender he sees everybody that even looks a bit at his little girl he sees as a threat and yeah- no dating for her till she’s 18)

- if the baby is a boy he would treat him like a prince too

- but no matter the gender, he would train his baby to be strong, independent and to know how to handle a cough gun cough

Soap:

- It would be him who notice your pregnancy

- It would be two days after he got home from a job

- It would irritate you a bit that he seemed a bit off but even though you asked him about it he would simply shrug with his shoulders, giving you a kiss on your lips and telling you everything is ok

- after those two days he would give you a pregnancy test, telling you do it

- at first you would laugh about it, thinking it’s a joke cause you’re infertile.

- Even though you would take the test and it would be positiv

- You would be to stunned to speak, sitting on the toilet staring at the test while he’s asking you if everything is good

- You wouldn’t respond and he would just barge into the restroom, fearing the worst

- but to see you with the positiv pregnancy test he would hug you straight away

- You both tried for years to get pregnant, but over eight months ago the doctor told you that you’re infertile

- The moment he hugs you, you both would start crying with joy

- You both have always wanted children and after you’re diagnosis that you’re infertile you feared he would leave you to start a family with someone who could bare his children

- But he stayed and assured you that he wanted a family with YOU and nobody else

- Man is worried about you constantly

- He would try to get the best doctors and best products to help you while you’re pregnant

- But he knows he can’t stay long so he would make sure that whenever he’s not with you someone he trust isn’t far away from you

- for the due date he would leave his work, taking a break so he would be there the moment you go into labour

- after a long and painful birth you would lay on his arm, your baby between him and you and he would tell you how amazing you are, how good you were and how beautiful your baby is

- this man praise the shit out of you till you eventually fall asleep

#alejandro vargas x reader #soap x reader #john mctavish #John MacTavish x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader #alejandro vargas #cod mw22 #ghost cod #soap cod #captain price #captain graves #captain graves x reader #headcanons #call of duty #call of duty headcanons #cod headcanons

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nu-suave · 18 days

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WHO FALLS FIRST, WHO FALLS HARDER? (pt. 2) feat. toji, suguru one, two

word count: 706

summary: who falls first, who falls harder? a/n: sorry i didn’t post the past few days… i did but i made myself angry at what i wrote so i deleted it all. you’ll be missed nanami kento x reader oneshot

Toji falls first, you fall harder. There aren’t many people he’s been able to be completely emotionally and physically vulnerable with; when you first openly offer that and show him no ill will or disdain, he doesn’t believe it. As time passes, though, he comes to accept it as a fact of your character - you simply are a safe person to him, and that’s a very unfamiliar feeling. Things rapidly become a lot more meaningful than he originally intended. He was going to mooch off of you, take a warm bed to sleep in or idle company while he gambled or meaningless conversation at the grocery market. It landslides from there. Physical affection, usually a means to an end, becomes something he genuinely wants. A lot of things about you become wants. He wants to touch you, wants to spend time with you, wants to get you things. It’s hard for him to recognise at first and, in all honesty, freaks him out. He doesn’t see himself as someone made for affection or domesticity or the kind of normal thing romance proves itself to be. It causes him to overcompensate at first - he makes biting comments and is a bit more reserved. He tries to scare you off, almost. He fails.

When you fall, it's about as graceless as Toji was. You’ve been friends for a while now, and in that limbo in between for nearly just as long. He hasn’t flirted with you or tried to push you into a relationship. If he’s being honest with himself, it’s because he thinks you’re too good for him - you deserve better than what he’s currently able to give you. Unfortunately (or maybe, more accurately, very fortunately) for him, you don’t feel the same way. When your feelings for Toji hit you, they hit you hard; you’re doing something mundane, like patching him up (an increasingly common occurrence) or chatting with him while he lazes on the couch, when he makes you laugh and the entire weight of your feelings hit you over a three-second period, leaving you numb with shock. Here’s to hoping you’re more proactive about your relationship than Toji is - you might be left in that period of requited pining for longer than either of you would like, until either you gain the courage to confess or he finishes attempting to pull himself together enough to feel like he can be something good for you.

You fall first, Suguru falls harder. He has a kind of effortless charisma that initially draws you to him; he’s charming, likeable, conscientious, and good looking to boot. You know from the very beginning that he’s the kind of person you usually fall for - you’re not wrong. It’s a spark that lights quickly, and it’s a gradual blurring of feelings until you look back on the early days of your friendship and wonder if there was ever a time you weren’t in love with him. He’s thoughtlessly respectful, never stepping over or pushing your boundaries - and sometimes picking up on them before you even need to say anything. It’s like he’s just tuned into your behaviour, and never crosses a line that’d make you uncomfortable. You never feel lesser in his presence or like you’re second place, even as you battle Satoru for his attention. Just by existing, Suguru makes the people around him feel heard.

When he falls, it’s over the course of a conversation. You’re both out with your friends, and Suguru is noticeably checked out of the conversation; he doesn’t talk much, is keeping to himself in the corner, replying to any attempts to engage him unenthusiastically. You pull him aside, asking how he is and if you want to ditch them together so he can get some fresh air. He does. During that night, it mounts and mounts; you engage him in light conversation, at some point just sitting beside him and not saying anything at all. You’re just there, an unobtrusive presence. It’s more comforting than you know, and as you bid each other goodbye at the end of the night, it hits him - how long has he been feeling this way about you? How long have you been this silent support for each other?

i really hate suguru's part lmao

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #toji x you #toji fushiguro x reader #fushiguro toji x reader #toji x reader #suguru getou x reader #suguru geto x reader #geto suguru x reader #suguru x reader #getou suguru x reader #getou x reader #geto x reader

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vienssunshine · 3 months

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GUAAA you’re the best maki writer on this app istg /&;&;@/@/@-“&/ could you please write smth nsfw where the fem reader like gets jealous of yuuta cause she thinks something is going on between them?

She likes a boy but I'm not a boy

pairing: Maki Zenin x fem!reader sfw: love confession word count: 1.5k author's note: thanks for the ask! not smut but def jealousy! enjoy! description: it's hard to find out maki and yuta have a thing, maybe a conversation with her could clear some things up

“Last lap!” Yuji calls out, his breath labored despite being far ahead of anyone else circling the track. It’s been twenty minutes of this drill—sprinting until you can’t feel your legs anymore—and with the sun beating down on you, it’s utterly grueling.

You were psyched to have the earlier training sessions this week along with Nobara, Panda, and Yuji, because, though getting up before sunrise is a challenge in itself, it tends to be cooler in the morning. With summer approaching quickly, having the afternoon sessions like Maki, Yuta, Inumaki, and Megumi do is a near death sentence.

However, this morning is uncharacteristically hot. The sun has only been up for the past hour, but its rays are blinding and oppressive. With no shade offered by Jujutsu High’s training facilities, all one can do is suffer until practice is over.

You cross the line and stumble off the field, making your way to the bleachers to lean back on the metal that’s too warm to cool your overheating body.

“I thought that would never end,” Yuji sighs, draping the shirt he had taken off over his forehead and pouring water onto it.

You reach for your water bottle, taking in the cool liquid in clumsy swallows before saying, “I don’t think I’ll be able to get back up.”

“Same here,” Nobara says, lying like a starfish on the grass in front of you. She glances at her watch and groans, “Only thirteen more minutes ‘til we go again.”

Panda sits up, somehow full of energy—you suspect he’s been using gorilla mode to make the drill easier—and says, “That should be enough for some of my favorite kind of break-time talk!”

Yuuji pulls his t-shirt off of his face, “Is it–”

“Sexy talk!” Panda exclaims.

“Gross,” Nobara says, throwing her empty water bottle at him.

“Not gross,” Panda counters, deflecting the bottle. “A necessary bonding experience for those on a team. Haven’t you ever heard of locker room talk?”

“I think that’s different,” you say.

“Yeah,” Nobara agrees, glowering.

“I’ll start,” Panda says, “Yuji, who do you think would make the best couple in Jujutsu High?”

Yuji crosses his legs and strokes his chin. “Umm…I don’t know…”

Nobara eyes him. “Spit it out.”

“Thought you didn’t like this kind of talk?” you say.

Nobara folds her arms, “Doesn’t mean he should take forever to answer.”

“Come on, Yuji!” Panda says, clapping his paws together.

Yuji sits back on his hands, “Maybe…Yuta and Maki?”

You furrow your brow. That’s a strange pairing.

“Great choice!” Panda says, looking smug, “I would agree.”

“What? Totally wrong!” Nobara objects, offended by the idea, “Maki isn’t interested in anyone, she doesn’t have time to be in a relationship.”

This isn’t making any sense. You sit up so you can face them. “Are you guys being serious?”

“Uh, yeah,” Yuji says, puzzled, “I thought they were kind of a thing?”

“Definitely,” Panda says, “I’ve always known.”

You pull your legs into your chest and rest your chin on your knee. This is not what you expected, or understood to be what was going on.

You’ve known Maki for a while, and she’s always been very friendly to you, well, as friendly as Maki can be. But still, she pays you extra attention, noticing the little differences in your appearance—like if you changed your hair or wore a new outfit—and following it up with a compliment that feels strangely intimate. She tends to touch you a lot as well, opting to brush by you rather than go around, or have her hand graze your forearm as she laughs at one of your not-funny jokes. So you’ve been thinking that maybe, after all this time, she might see you how you see her. But this conversation is making you wonder if it’s all in your head.

“Well, I guess if it had to be someone,” Nobara concedes.

“Just admit it, they’re made for each other,” Panda says dreamily.

You huff. Yuta and Maki are definitely close, but made for each other? What makes him so great? Just because he’s a special grade doesn’t mean he’s equipped to handle someone like Maki—he always looks like he’s two seconds away from crying. If what they’re saying is true, if they’re actually together…you’re not sure what you’ll do, but just thinking about it is heating your blood.

The conversation devolves into discussing what everyone’s type is, but you tune it out, instead searching your memory for the signs of Yuta and Maki’s special connection. You're not sure how you could've missed it if it was so obvious to everyone else.

The rest of training is easier now that you’re pissed off. Your form is sloppier as you run around the track, feet hitting the ground in hard, careless pounds, but you’re going much faster than you were; there’s less of a gap between you and Yuji.

You’re still angry when you shower, change your clothes, put on shoes, and go to class for the rest of the day. It’s good that Yuta and Maki are in the afternoon sessions of training, you’re not sure you’d be able to stay composed with how you’re feeling right now.

The day cools as the sun goes down and, after trying and failing to talk your feelings out to one of your stuffed animals, you resort to finding a late night snack in hopes of soothing your inner turmoil.

Only, when you get to the communal kitchen, there’s a light on, and under it, sitting at the table, is Maki watching something on her phone.

She looks up when you walk in. “Hey,” she says, an interesting smirk on her face.

“Hey,” you respond, passing by and heading to the cabinet to grab some chips. You debate going back to your room—you’re not sure if hanging out with her tonight is a good idea—but the urge to stay wins, so you sit down in the chair next to her and open the bag.

Maki puts her phone down and rests her elbows on the table, clasping her fingers together and tilting her head as she says, “I heard you were talking about me today.”

Looking straight ahead, you say, “Did you?”, and put a chip in your mouth and chew. “Maybe you should tell Yuta about it.”

There’s that attitude you were worried about slipping out. You don’t want to give her a hard time, you’re just frustrated, because Yuta? Over you? Really? But then she laughs, and despite everything, it’s immensely gratifying.

“Yeah, you guys were saying we’re a thing or something,” Maki says, expression calming into a soft yet devious smile.

She’s baiting you, though you don’t know why. Her golden gaze is as heavy and intense as the sun this morning as she searches your face for any reaction. It’s peculiar behavior if she likes someone else—unless you’re misinterpreting again.

You’re as casual as can be when you ask, “Aren’t you guys a thing?”

Maki responds matter-of-factually, “Yeah, we are.”

You cough, nearly choking on your chip. That confirms it, confirms everything you were worried about. Maki likes someone else. A boy. Your mind spins, trying to make sense of the situation. Panda and Yuji had a better read on the situation than you? You had just imagined the tension with Maki? The one thing you can conclude is that you were totally wrong.

Maki hands you her glass of water, “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you force out, taking a sip. “That’s great,” you say, “For you and Yuta.”

She laughs again. “Don’t ever become an actress.”

You break out into a stupid smile, “I’m serious.” Putting the chips down, you try to recover. Obviously this is terrible news, but you still have to be a good friend. “Really, that’s great. I’m happy for you.”

“Stop,” she says, waving her hand, “We aren’t really.”

“Uh…what?”

“We aren’t really a thing,” she says, her hand landing on your forearm like it always does. Only, this time, it stays there. “I just wanted to see how you’d react.”

She moves her thumb along your skin, and though her strokes are gentle, the sensation is electric. No doubt she’s noticed how your arm has lit up in goosebumps.

“Why?” you ask, your voice quieter than it was, anticipatory. You don't want to be wrong again.

She speaks slowly, her gaze holding steady. “Because, I don’t want to be a thing with Yuta”—her fingers give your arm a squeeze—“I want something with you.”

It doesn’t register at first, the words not sinking in, rather just sitting there, utterly impactful. Her amber eyes watch yours as you tell it to yourself again: Maki doesn’t want Yuta, she wants you.

Your friend, who for months you’ve longed for, dreamed of, desired, Maki, she likes you back.

There’s no room for air in your body, not with the surge of excitement pushing up through your chest. Everyone else—Panda, Yuji, Nobara—they didn't know what they were talking about. Maki wants you.

Your hand lands on hers without consulting your head first. Then you’re leaning forward, leaning closer to her, and you echo the sentiment, whispering you’ve much you’ve wanted this. She smiles before your lips meet; the kiss was mutually long-awaited.

And so, in the dimly lit kitchen, a secret romance was born. Would the others get it right this time?

#maki zenin x you #maki zenin x reader #maki zenin #maki zenin fluff #zenin maki #maki x you #maki x reader #maki

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doctorcurdlejr · 7 days

Note

Niko!! what'd you think of I saw the tv glow. I finally saw it last night and noticed you posting about it so I wanted to know your thoughts :)

Levi!!! I was JUST wondering what you were thinking about the movie after I saw you posting about it as well... we are so media discussion pilled in this way, it's awesome. ANYWAYS I've had so many thoughts since I first saw it and I've been trying to turn them into something coherent for a little bit now.

Ummm okay I have written 1k+ words about this movie, the suburbs, and escapism via teen TV.... clearly I was dying for somebody to ask this I guess so thank you for indulging me <3

First and foremost, I absolutely loved it! I've seen it twice now and the first time I watched it I got to see Jane Schoenbrun talk about the film right after. I already really liked it from that first watch alone. I found it so deeply relatable to my experiences - both in terms of growing up gay and trans, but where I am now in my 20s trying to navigate adulthood. Hearing what Schoenbrun had to say really cemented my feelings and thoughts about the film.

Buffy the Vampire Slayer was a big influence on the movie (it's why Amber Benson makes a cameo as Johnny Link's mom). Even though I don't have the same emotional link to Buffy since I never watched it, I recognize it as the same type of warmth I experienced growing up with Riverdale. When Owen says he feels like his insides have been scooped out but that he's too afraid to look and have that wrongness everybody knows is there be confirmed, Maddy simply responds "Maybe you're like Isabel. Afraid of what's inside you." Tears forming but not falling, breathing shallowly, I grabbed the paper and pen the theater keeps at the seats for people to order food with and wrote that line down - the slip of paper is still somewhere in my car. Writing it now almost feels lame in its simplicity, but it felt like my insides were being flayed open.

During the director discussion, Schoenbrun talked a little bit about this idea of how truly fucking bizarre it is to grow up in the suburbs. Like, when we think about the pinnacle of normality in American culture, it's the image of middle-class cis-hetero-white suburbia. At the same time, despite this cultural dream of normality, everybody is hyper-aware that the suburbs are one of the least normal things ever. So, the ACTUAL cultural understanding of it is that it's where we go to, like, passively kill ourselves (*George Costanza voice* WE LIVE IN A SOCIETY YOU KNOW!). This idea isn't new, I mean there are so many films and shows about navigating that specific bizarre dissonance from Rebel Without a Cause to Heathers to Twin Peaks. Probably half the pre-teen to teen TV I watched obsessively growing up, stuff like Strange Days at Blake Holsey High, Making Fiends, Truth or Scare, and eventually Riverdale, were never shy about being weird and morbid and saying "yes, the suburbs are exactly as bizarre and lethal in the ways you can already feel in your bones at 13." I Saw the TV Glow does a really good job of keying not only into that mental dissonance but more specifically into how those of us who have felt so intrinsically weird and different and wrong fell back on these shows like they were capable of doing the emotional version of a rescue breath maneuver after being drowned.

In high school, if there were two things about me that any person who even vaguely knew me could list off it was that I watched Riverdale, and I was a lesbian - and I was mocked more for the Riverdale. At that age, I was, without a doubt, the most miserable I have ever felt in my life. I rarely left the house because my family lived in a development that made me want to scratch my skin off when I walked out our front door. Owen didn't leave the house for days, afraid Maddy could somehow force him out. I sobbed constantly and frequently to depressing indie rock on the floor of my closet while hoping my family would just once read the (honest to god) KEEP OUT poster plastered on my door since I didn't have a lock on it. Owen didn't leave his room for days, afraid of what Maddy recognized in him. I didn't go on dates and kept my chest binder shoved to the bottom of my bookbag while wearing dresses that could've come from a how-to-be the perfect 50s housewife manual. Owen didn't leave his bed for days, afraid of Maddy touching his neck and Isabel's dress. I also watched Riverdale with the kind of zeal you see in a Pentecostal who has found God and started speaking in tongues to let you know it. I own a button that says, "Don't Make Me Go Dark Betty On You," I cherish it in a way that is only achieved by knowing exactly how corny and trite it is and then moving straight past that because well actually, and most people wouldn't get this, she's holding back something deeply dark and wild and- and disgusting. something painful yet intrinsically her. but i get it, obviously. or maybe not obviously! hopefully not obviously, but- basically, I'm just saying I get it: the experience of reflection and recognition through the other and all that.

Whatever, the point is that this movie is one big glaring trans allegory about how it sucks dog shit to live in the suburbs, and even at our most repressed we find these little snow globes of actualization in the glow of a tv screen that isn't afraid to show you the world you see. I've seen some people say that, like, in this context accepting or coming into your transness is this monumental death of self, which I get, but I feel there lacks a nuance in that because either way Owen is dying. Unlike Maddy who buries herself alive only to come out renewed, Owen doesn't kill himself upon facing the reality that the world is constructed to keep him miserable and the only way out is to take back what it is that the world wants to keep scooped out of him. Instead he just passively lets it drag him to a much more permanent death. This lack of suicide sucks in the kind of way that forces you to sit in your car on the midnight drive home and think to yourself am I letting myself suffocate because at some point knowing the misery became less scary than admitting I've been capable of doing something about it the whole time?

Clearly, I’ve been enchanted by the film’s narrative and meta-textual language. If you're familiar with it, you can see how Schoenbrun built this movie like a long-form dream episode of a canceled teen show filmed in Vancouver. Lynchian? Yeah, sure. Riverdalesque? THIS we cannot possibly deny. Schoenbrun said they included Amber Benson as an act of healing the inner rage experienced at Tara’s death in Buffy. This is a Roberto Aguirre-Sacasa ending Riverdale with a bisexual polycule after his gay Archie play got ceased-and-desisted type move. There’s probably more I could say about the soundtrack and the visuals, but I’ve hit over 1k words on this, so I’ll leave it at I enjoyed this movie a lot. :)

Maddy is an out lesbian who left town to escape the misery and found it strapped to her ankles. She slinks out, an animal pressed against the gymnasium floor, and says "I'm not telling you anything you don't already know." Owen looks into the camera and narrates. He cuts himself open with a box cutter, fully acknowledges what's there, and the movie ends with his suffocating apology parade for the unremarkable inconvenience of his excruciating suffering. You can be gay and trans, you can know it and you can stop repressing it, but you're not going to stop suffocating until you can find a way to destroy the part of you that truly deeply does want to die, reaching for the comforting euthanasia of normalcy. Stop visiting the dream of the life you want and make it into your reality with the same kind of unrepentant conviction seen in some underfunded but wildly ambitious teen television series. In other words: you must try to survive the ego death of being weird. A weirdo, who doesn't fit in and doesn't want to fit in!

#i saw the tv glow #riverdale #< the sister tag to me talking about this movie at this rate...#i saw the tv glow spoilers #asks

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jhoneybees · 3 months

Text

Obsession?

Alright! It's back and ready for you all to read! So this one isn't like my other fluffy fics but a spicy type(my first ever!) so if you're looking for a fluffy fic, this one might not be it 😅 My girl @elvisalltheway101 helped me with this and I'm so thankful, mwah mwah to you sista🫶

Thank you so much for your patience!

Characters: 50s!Elvis X reader

Warnings/triggers: spicy fic, mentions of y/n, crying, swearing, Elvis being obsessed, mentions of worship, sub!elvis???, obsession talk, mentions of God

_____________________________________________

There’s just something about you that makes Elvis go weak in the knees. He doesn’t know what it could be that attracted him so much but everytime he tries to find the possible answers, his brain just goes static when his thoughts gradually form into a daydream about when you would pass-by giving him one of those gorgeous smiles of yours or when you would stare into eachothers eyes for a split second, even when he watched you from afar as you laughed with the middle aged women at church and wearing that damn dress that made you look too tempting for your own good at a party you two were invited to.

Elvis' heart and brain might not know that he’s obsessing but that occasional stir in his stomach sure does, It’s almost like he’s worshiping you but how can he not? Your humor, your kind-heartedness, your attentive nature, your eyes, your hair, your voice, your smile lines, your pores, your breathing, your lips, they’re all better than any morning coffee, any fulfilling meal and it sure doesn’t help him when you would ask the simplest of questions like “Sugar in your coffee?” or “How was your day today, Presley?” with that pretty voice it turns him into a blushing, stuttering, shaking mess and when he would get a glimpse of you everytime he walks past the diner you work at.

Boy his heart starts racing like he’s about to have a heart attack.

It’s been so agonizing for him because he’s had a crush on you for as long as he can remember, the first day of Junior year. Others may say to just ask you out and see what happens but to him he can’t do that, how could he? He may act all confident and slick in his daily daydreams of you but in reality he’s just a mere country boy with a funny sense of style and girly eyelashes that everyone laughs at and your the Preacher’s daughter who everyone loves, who couldn’t possibly like someone as foolish as him, you’re divine and he’s just…well him.

But he feels like something’s gonna happen.

He just can’t quite put a finger on it.

One day as he browses around the Memphis record shop, he accidentally gets nudged. looking up to be blessed by those Godly angel eyes. “Oh I’m so sorry! I didn’t see-” His heart skips a beat “Elvis, Hi! It’s been a while”

God must be watching over me.

“Hello?” Elvis shaking his head out of his trance with a sharp inhale “H-Hi” seeing a soft smile grow on your face “How are you?” Elvis grins shyly and scratches the back of his neck “Uh..I-I’m good” his eyes averting away but snap back to yours as he straightens up “H-how are you?” mentally cringing to himself.

“I’m great, Thank you for asking”

You thanked him, you wasted an ounce of that precious voice of yours to Thank him.

By this point, the record he’s holding slips out of his hand, just for a moment he realizes and with a clumsy attempt of trying to catch it, he accidentally steps on it the wrong way causing the record to break.

“Shit-” he swears under his breath, hearing you gasp quietly “Oh…” crouching down to pick the damaged record up. He sighs and moves his hand to grab his wallet from his pocket only for him to notice it’s not there, his eyes widen to which your eyebrows raise slightly “Did you leave your wallet behind?” he glances at you and quickly looks away ”Uh-'' feeling your hand touch his arm making him gulp “Hey, I can pay for the record..” you offer softly, his eyebrows furrow and his head turns up at you “No, it’s-”

“I insist”

_____________________________________________

“Thank- thank you for paying for that, I-I-I-I’ll have ta pay you back somehow” Elvis’ voice falling soft as he nears the end of his sentence making you smile “Don't mention it, wouldn't want you getting in trouble” a happy angelic laugh fills his ears, his brain going fuzzy as he looks at you through his lashes, falling into a short trance until your voice snaps him out of it “Well I better get going” Elvis clears his throat following with a nod, Seeing your small wave but the moment your head turns the other way, his gut feeling urges him to yell out “Wait Y/n!”

Oh God.

“Yeah?” his hand moving to scratch the back of his neck and his eardrums hearing the bottom of your shoe scraping along the concrete as you come to a halt “Um…To- to pay you back…” stuffing his hand in his pocket. His heart punching him in his chest.

Oh Lordy Lord.

“Can I take you out?”

Oh why did I say it like that?

His heart ringing wedding bells as a giggle emits through your lips and his breath stills when you nod quietly “Of course, that'll be very nice, Elvis” his knees are damn. near. weak. Nodding his head silently with his crooked smile showing “Uhm…at 6?....I’ll..I’ll pick you up” he questions to which you nod again.

Did I just?

You walk away the second time, his eyes brightening as you look over your shoulder.

“See you then, Presley”

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It feels like a dream, how did he manage to ask you out, for you to agree? God, Elvis hopes he doesn’t wake up from this dream, if it is even one.

His palms rubbing along his slacks as his eyes try to stay watching the movie on the screen. By now he's lost the plot of the movie because of his thoughts.

He's alone with you in his daddy’s car.

And lord his nerves are kicking him like crazy.

Leg bouncing nervously and a deep breath escapes his mouth. He's trying, he’s trying to keep his attention on the movie but he’s on a date with you-

a hand falling on his knee and his eyes trail up an arm, landing on your eyes that he couldn't help but soften at.

“About to make a hole in the floor soon” you laugh, making him clear his throat and smile shyly “M’sorry” once again blessed by your smile “It's alright…you seem a little distracted, is everything ok?” pressing his lips together tightly as your eyebrows furrow, shaking his head “Oh, no it's nothin’ “ he inhales deeply when you quirk an eyebrow “You sure?” he nods.

Stupid.

Be. more. discreet.

Elvis turns his head to look out the side window as your attention falls back on the movie then as he begins to bite his nails, sinking into his seat a little, he freezes as he feels your knee gently tap against the side of his thigh, gulping and pushing himself back up to sit up properly, resting his arm on the car door and wiping his palm on his slacks.

“Are you sure you're ok? You seem to be a little off, Elvis” his head whipping towards you “I-I'm fine, really” looking at each of your eyes with so much adoration as your words flow off your tongue “You can tell me…” you say with a slight smile.

A big gulp.

Elvis lowers his head and looks at the floor of the car “It's noth-...” glancing at you as you sit up in your seat, facing him, waiting patiently.

His eyes avert from yours and his heart beats out of his chest, mentally cursing to himself as his hands grow increasingly more sweaty. He’s been dreaming of this moment and he’s been praying for this to happen but…He’s scared-

“I like you”

Glancing up to see your eyes widen, surprised.

He said it.

It's out in the open, he can't take it back.

“Elvis…” your voice soft and quiet, his vision turning back to the floor, brimming with tears “...I’m sorry” his voice quiet, picking at the fabric of his slacks, bringing his palm up to wipe at the tears that manage to escape.

Then…

He feels a hand smooth along the front of his neck, cupping his jaw with a thumb on one side and two fingers on the other. Forcing him to turn his head, His voice releasing a pained whimper of his heart clenching at the sight of your angelically sculpted face.

His breath hitches as you suddenly ever so gently, plant your soft lips on his, closing his eyes. A single tear falling down his cheek.

Absolute. Pure. Bliss.

The slightest his hands begin to tremble as his skin tingles from your exhale through your nose. His spine shivers as your hands cup his cheeks, pulling him closer to bring his lips further onto yours making you lean back a little.

A small whine emitting through his lips as you pull away breathlessly, Elvis looking into your eyes “Y/n…” your eyes that could outshine any jewel before shakily slithering his hands around your waist, pulling you into another kiss. His eyebrows frowning and his body physically melting as you hum against him.

He hums softly, out of nowhere feeling your knee pushing in between his legs, causing him to moan.

With a soft push on his chest, Elvis leans back against the pillar between the car seat and the car door, the sound of your lips separating filling the car as you lean down to peck along his jaw, Elvis' breath hitching and sighing. With shaky hands squeezing your waist gently for you to push your knee in between his legs again with a little more pressure.

Oh Lord, help me.

His stomach fills with butterflies as you nip at his jaw a little and your hands brushing down his neck down to his belt to pull his shirt out of his pants, his breath stutters as you slide your hands under to rub against his tummy, your soft lips returning to his. Hands traveling up to lightly graze over his nipples, making him squirm.

Feeling you smirk against him, A very unexpected noise escapes his body as your palm presses on his manhood, slowly adding pressure, his breathing frantic and groans squeezing out of his throat.

Elvis inhales sharply as you shift onto his lap, his puppy eyes looking straight up into yours as your lips separate, seeing you in front of him, your bodies just a few inches apart.

Tears building up in his eyes, he glides his hands down to your hips, almost about to sob at the feeling of you as he gives you a little squeeze.

Gulping before saying just above a whisper “You’re so beautiful…”

His eyes roaming all over your body from your neck, down to your chest then to his hands on your hips but as he caresses you with his thumbs, his head gets lifted by your finger under his chin. Shocked to find a glimmer of lust, a need but also a sparkle of kindness…Love.

His breath drains out of him as you lift his hand in your small ones, kissing each of his fingers, making sure to keep his eyes on you.

“Take me, Presley”

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READ PART 2!!! Written by @elvisalltheway101

😵‍💫Addiction😵‍💫

#elvis presley #elvis #elvis fans #elvis imagine #50s elvis #i love him #elvis presley x reader #elvis fandom #elvis fanfiction #elvis fanfic #elvis smut

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eddiemunsons80sbaby · 1 year

Text

The Boy is Mine

Pairing: EddieMunsonxReader

Request: I had one in mind where the reader and eddie are high school sweethearts and hes a big rockstar now and they just had a baby and they hire a nanny for a few days cause they need to go to meetinfs and tours and stuff and she notices the nanny is eyeing eddie and flirting with him but he doesnt pay any attention to it and one day when the reader hears them talking and the nanny crosses the line eddie throws her out and the reader confesses she struggles with her body after the baby and they make love? :)

18+ Only!

You swayed back and forth gently, soothing your sweet son to sleep. The door was cracked just enough that you could see your husband in the living room of the suite, chatting with Sara, the nanny. You silently seethed as you watched her once again hit on your husband. She gave him her most demure smile, resting her hand on his forearm and laughing lightly at something he’d said. To Eddie’s credit, he seemed completely oblivious to the fact that she was hitting on him all the time.

It had been Eddie’s idea to hire the nanny after you had Jax. Between meetings and late night shows, you needed help. Eddie wanted you at everything. He insisted that his best girl cheer him on every night. So, he figured the nanny would be the perfect solution. She could do the late night feedings so you could sleep after the concert. She could watch him so you could attend meetings with the record label, the tour manager, and the media. Eddie valued your input and he wanted you there to hear everything firsthand so you could give him your honest opinion.

You appreciated it but you hated watching someone else take care of your sweet baby boy. And now, seeing that she wanted to take care of your big boy too was about to send you over the edge. You hadn’t said anything to Eddie because you knew how he would respond. He would tell you that you were overreacting, that everything was fine, that he would never cheat on you. You knew that but it didn’t mean you enjoyed watching some girl hang all over him.

Sighing, you moved to Jax’s portable crib, tenderly laying him down on his back, stroking his cheek with the back of your hand. He was so beautiful with a dark head of hair and full lips just like his father. But you could see yourself in there too, in the curve of his nose and his eyes. He was the perfect blend of the two of you, the product of your infinite love for each other right there for the world to see.

“What the hell!?” you heard Eddie yell, your hand stilling as you paused to listen. “Absolutely not! What the fuck is wrong with you!?” “I just thought…” began Sara but he quickly cut her off.

“You just thought what? That I would throw away my entire life? That I would ever cheat on my wife? You need to get your shit and get the hell out. You’re fired.”

“But we’re all the way in Minnesota!?” shrieked Sara loudly. “How am I supposed to get home?” “I really don’t give a shit,” snapped Eddie. “Just get your shit and get the hell out of my face!”

“Eddie, come on,” she pleaded.

“No. You don’t get to fucking touch me like that. You’re here to take care of my son so I can enjoy time with my wife. My goddamn wife, Sara, who I have loved since high school! The fact that you even thought I would consider something with you tells me you’re delusional. Seriously, get your shit or I will have security remove you.”

You heard a choked sob and then the sound of the suite room door slamming. Eddie let loose a string of curses, a pounding following. He must have punched the wall. You stood, frozen in place, unsure of what to do now. He had to know you’d heard. He wasn’t exactly being quiet.

“Darling?” he called, his voice gentler, softer now that he was speaking to you.

“Yeah?” you replied quietly, stepping out, softly closing Jax’s door behind you, not wanting to wake him.

“Fuck!” Eddie muttered, running his fingers through his tangled mane. “Can you believe her!?”

“Yeah, actually, I can.”

Eddie spun on you, shock written all over that beautiful face. “What? You’re not surprised that our nanny just grabbed my dick?”

You sucked in a sharp breath at his words, “I didn’t know she did that, exactly. If I would have known that, she wouldn’t have been walking out of here without a black eye to match that tiny black skirt she likes to wear around you so much. But no, I am not surprised. I mean, seriously Eddie? She’s been hitting on you for weeks.”

“She has?”

“Oh baby,” you mused, stepping into him, cupping his cheek in your hand. “It is so sweet how absolutely oblivious you are.” You pressed yourself into him, your breasts pushed against his chest. “Oh Eddie.” You batted your lashes and then covered your mouth, giggling like a schoolgirl. “You’re so funny. Your wife is so lucky. You’re so talented. I love watching you play.”

Eddie’s nose crinkled, his head jerking back, “She really did that stuff?” “Yes baby. I mean, can you blame her?” You laughed, shaking your head. “Look at you. Every single girl that comes to your shows wants a chance with you and who could blame them?” Your fingers gently danced along his forearm, up over his chest. “You are the sexiest man and when you put a guitar in your hands, well, no girl stands a chance.”

“But I don’t want any of them,” he stated as if it were that simple, as if that was just a fact and that should be the end of it.

“And I love you for that but that doesn’t mean they don’t want you.”

Eddie smirked, that sweet little dimple appearing on his cheek, his hands coming to rest on your hips, “And what about you? Do you want me?”

“Every minute of every goddamn day,” you breathed softly. “It’s hard, you know, watching all of those beautiful girls throw themselves at you all the time. It was hard watching Sara. I mean, she’s gorgeous. You’re lucky I trust you. I just had a baby. My body is definitely not what it used to be. But I know how much you love me.”

“Princess, you are the most beautiful woman in the world to me, inside and out,” Eddie spoke low, his lips grazing your jaw. “I don’t pay attention to any of those girls because they don’t matter. They can’t begin to compare. You’re all I want.”

“Eddie,” you sighed, tilting your head back as his lips explored your throat, his hands slipping under the back of her shirt, calloused fingers grazing your bare skin and sending a shiver down your spine.

You gripped the bottom of his shirt, desperate to feel his skin against yours and he pulled back just enough for you to pull it over his head before his lips were on your again, his tongue parting your lips to meet yours. You moaned against his mouth, tracing the contours of his back with your fingers, the curves along his shoulder blades that you loved so much. The way they rippled as he moved, strumming his guitar in nothing but sweats in your room. You could watch him for hours, shocked and awed that this beautiful man was all yours.

Eddie disposed of your shirt, quickly followed by your bra, nimble fingers making easy work of the clasp. Then his mouth was exploring your breasts, lavishing one nipple and then the other with that talented tongue. You arched your back, pressing yourself against his mouth, your hand tangling in his hair, your center aching, throbbing with need.

“You are so goddamn perfect,” he whispered, one hand gripping the back of your neck as his other slid past the waistband of your leggings and into your panties. You were already wet from his teasing and his fingers slipped easily inside of you, pressed to the hilt, curling in that delicious way that had your legs threatening to give out from under you. “That’s what my girl wanted, isn’t it?”

You nodded, barely able to form a coherent thought, let alone actual words. Your hands clung to him, one still in his hair, the other gripping his bicep to keep yourself steady so you didn’t collapse to the floor. The muscles in your legs quivered as Eddie nipped at the flesh along your shoulder and collarbone before running the flat of his tongue along the side of your neck.

A guttural moan from deep within you passed through your lips and Eddie growled, pulling your earlobe between his teeth. Your body shuddered, on the verge of completely losing all control. He brought his thumb up, circling your clit as his fingers moved against that sweet spongy place within you and a sound you didn’t even have a word for ripped from your body as everything in you stretched taut until snapping completely. You unraveled at his touch.

“That’s it baby,” he praised, his hand on your neck the only thing keeping you from collapsing completely as you shook with pleasure. “You’re so fucking sexy when you come for me.”

As his fingers slid from you, his lips crashed against yours, hands pushing your leggings and panties down in one frenzied movement. You worked at his belt and then the button on his pants, pressing them over his hips and down his legs. Your lips never strayed from one another as he walked backward, bringing you with him to the couch. When the backs of his knees hit it, he sat down and you straddled his lap.

“Yes princess, I want to watch you ride me,” he murmured, eyes lust blown, one hand gripping your hip as the other gripped his cock.

You lowered yourself over him, both of you moaning as you snuggled your ass against him, fully engulfing him within you. Jesus, there was nothing like the feeling of your bodies coming together, two pieces of a puzzle that fit together perfectly. Sex with Eddie was just as exciting as it had been in high school, possibly even more so because you were connected on a whole different level. There was nothing you wouldn’t try for him and the two of you had explored a variety of things. There was a level of comfort that made everything so much more fun.

Your hands held onto the back of the couch as you rocked your hips against him. Eddie pressed his face against your chest, his hand on the small of your back as his mouth teased, licked, and nipped at every bit of skin he could get to. Your head fell back with pleasure, hair cascading down your back.

“Jesus Christ, sweetheart,” he mumbled against your skin, “you feel so goddamn good.”

You rotated your hips, forming figure eights and he cried out, biting his lip, fingers digging into your flesh. You knew how much that drove him crazy. You would rock forward and back, then move in circles, then figure eights, constantly switching it up and relishing every single sound of pleasure and surprise he made. This had always been Eddie’s favorite position. He wanted you facing each other so he could watch you and he loved letting you take control.

“Baby…” you gasped, “I’m close again…fuck!”

“Me too, princess. Me too…don’t stop…come with me, baby.”

Reaching one hand between your bodies, you toyed with your clit, urging your orgasm on in an effort to give Eddie what he wanted. He brought a hand up, gripping your breast, pinching your nipple between his thumb and forefinger and then rolling it. It didn’t take much and you were ready to explode once again.

“I’m gonna…shit…don’t stop…” he grunted, his hand on you losing traction as he came close to the edge. “Fuck!”

You felt his release fill you just as your own came crashing down upon you. Eddie’s arms held you in a vice, keeping your bodies pressed together as you both rode out the high. He shuddered, releasing a slow breath as his arms loosened. His hands came to cradle your face, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips.

“I fucking love you so much.”

“Me too,” you murmured, pressing your forehead against his with a smile.

#eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie stranger things #eddie munson #stranger things eddie #rockstar eddie munson #rockstar eddie munson x you

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geekforhorror · 10 months

Note

hey heyyy

I be thinking about… sending ani photos and holovids while he’s off-world of yourself in absolutely jaw dropping underwear or even nothing at all, posing yourself in scandalous positions he should be indulging in, recording you fucking yourself with your fingers or a vibrator or dildo and accentuating your moans and whines just for his pleasure!!! And he’s so fucking mad about it but he can’t help but love you for all you do for him just to jack off to 👹

stargirl

pairing: rots!anakin x fem!reader

warning(s): SMUT (DNI IF YOU’RE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH IT!), just downright filth, mutual masturbation, needy ani, sending nudes, fingering (fem!receiving), teasing, dirty talk, pet names, slight fluff.

————

It was absolute torture.

You were on a mission in the outer rim without him and it was really getting to Anakin. He missed being in your presence. He missed the way you smelled, the way you smiled, and most importantly, the way your skin felt against his. He would give anything to touch you right now. Surely he could wait until you got back, right? There was only one tiny problem with that. You wouldn't be back for another 2 days or so. For anyone else, 2 days was nothing, but for Anakin, it showed him just how low his self-control and need were. He missed the noises you let slip from your mouth when he was fucking you, the way you were so cock drunk for him, how you sank your nails in his back, just begging for more. You knew of this too considering all of the needy messages he had sent you. The messages would read something along the lines of "Missing you so much, angel," or even as straight up as "I want to run my hands all over that pretty little body of yours while I'm fucking you senseless". Needless to say, he was desperate.

The sound of his holopad going off sent him back to the harsh reality of him not being with you. The sound alone had sent him racing over toward the holoprojector to place it on. Once he places it accordingly onto the platform, he clicks on your contact to see if you were the one who had texted him. He's not surprised that it was you, but he was surprised at the fact it took you so long to respond to his filthy texts. He noticed something unusual though. Instead of just sending him a cheeky text, you sent him a video with a black cover preview. Intrigued, he sits down on his bed before clicking on the video and hitting play. It takes a few seconds before he sees you enter the frame and what he’s met with takes his breath away.

There you are, laying on a bed in what seems to be one of his favorite lingerie sets of his, which he bought, of course. It was a pink lace set and it looked absolutely beautiful on you, which is why he picked it out. It was made out of rather see through material which exposed your hard nipples through it. As you were laying on the bed, he saw your hand come dangerously close toward your clothed pussy.

There was no way you were going to do this to him… Right? You wouldn’t dare. He was proved wrong when you slipped your panties off of your body before rubbing harsh circles against your bare clit, breathily gasping as you did so. Your pace started to quicken within mere seconds and maker— it was intoxicating to watch. Anakin felt himself grow hard underneath his pants, causing him to let out a slight hiss. This was going to be painful for his cock knowing that he couldn’t fulfill your needs right now. He would give anything to feel himself inside your and squeeze him while he’s roughly thrusting into your tight cunt.

You carry on, getting closer just from imagining that it was Anakin who was pleasuring you like that. That’s what made it so fun. Anakin probably thought that you were just teasing him for your own sake, but he didn’t know that you were also doing it because you missed him. You missed the way he finger fucked you with no mercy, the way he curled his long slender fingers into your spongey cunt. All of a sudden, his ears were filled with the loudest moans ever which causes him to unbuckle his pants in an attempt to release his cock from the confinement of his boxers. He successfully does so and starts pumping away at the base of his erected cock while still looking at the sight in front of him.

“Ani-,” you whined, knowing he would get off on hearing that. Everything you said and did had a purpose, which was evident right now as he quickened his sloppy pace. You then slid two fingers inside you without any hesitation, causing you to feel a delightful stretch deep inside your pussy as you start to curl them. Despite this, they didn’t fill you up quite as much as his fingers or his cock.

“Need your fingers…Need your fat cock… mmph,” you let out with a pornographic moan. It was like you knew what he needed to hear despite the video being prerecorded. You slowly repositioned yourself, now facing the camera directly and opening your legs even further so he could see every inch of you that he wanted to touch whether it was with his tongue or fingers. You set an even faster pace than the one before which caused you to throw your head back in ecstasy. Kriff, you were good at this game.

‘I should be the one making you feel like that,’ Anakin thought to himself.

Within seconds, you released all over your thighs, showing him the extent of your sticky arousal. It was like you hit the jackpot because before he knew it, he came around his hand, now panting harder than ever. The feeling was short lived as he was met with new ones. Arousal, shame, anger, and a sense of love. Aroused at the fact he could see you like this despite being many planets away right now, ashamed that he came so easily just from hearing your moans as you fingered yourself, angry because you had left him wanting more instead of just coming around his own hand, and loved the fact that you did this all for him.

Just when he thought it was over, you sent him a message you knew would make him want to travel to the outer rim just to fuck you senseless and put you in your place. He pulls his pants up and walks over to the holoprojecter before removing the holopad from it.

“Like what you saw?” the message read, letting him know that you saw he opened the video.

Anakin felt his jaw clench just the slightest bit when he read it. Now he knew that you knew what the fuck you were doing to him.

“I like what I saw, but you’re such a fucking tease angel,” he types out before hitting send.

Within mere seconds of him responding, you had opened his message with a cunning grin stuck on your face.

“Is that so?” you replied, not knowing what you were about to get yourself into.

As soon as he saw what you had written back, he devised a plan of his own. This would be his payback. He takes his holopad with him as he makes it back to his bed. Anakin throws it aside as he pulls his pants down once more to start his plan. He pulls his still hard dick out of his boxers and grabs the device with his other hand. He angles the camera so that it’s directly over his hard on, letting you see everything. He taps the dot on the screen to capture the picture. Once he thinks it’s good to send, he clicks the ‘send’ button, now eager to see your response. He doesn’t want to stop there though. He decided to caption it to make this teasing game just as agonizing for you.

“See for yourself baby,” he types.

Send.

He puts his hard on back into his boxers, waiting for your response in triumph. The screen had lit up just moments after, letting him know he won. He wish he could see the look on your pretty face once you saw what he had sent. It was a rather flustered one, one that made your cheeks pink.

“All for me Ani? Maker, I miss your cock,” you type out, feeling the heat rise between your legs again.

He looks at the message and lets out a groan at your words.

This was going to be a long and painful night.

————

tag: @jellydodger

#anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker smut #anakin smut #anakin imagine #star wars anakin #anakin x you #hayden christensen #star wars fanfiction #star wars #anakin fluff

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onas-batlle · 4 months

Text

The Westie Way

pairing: lucy bronze x ona batlle

warnings: none, or tooth rotting fluff

synopsis: Narla watches her mum fall in love again.

a/n: one shot from narla’s pov and tbh i have no idea where this came from but i hope everyone enjoys it lol

Ao3 Link

———

Something was different. That much was obvious. Even in her small doggy mind which was primarily occupied with rocks and treats and sticks, Narla could tell that something wasn’t quite right with her mums.

She was used to them not being together all the time as she had lived in this funny little country where people spoke with harsh tones and always seemed to need to wee, and Keira was not there for the majority of the time, but this felt different. They felt different.

They didn’t talk to each other very much, not like they used to, and often those conversations were louder and less pleasant than those in the past. The three of them hadn’t cuddled together in several weeks either, and Narla now had to choose which room she wanted to sleep in. Usually, she had opted for whoever looked sadder.

And then they moved to Barcelona. Lucy went first and Narla went with her, but this time when Keira followed, she got her own house. Now they spent no time together - the only brief moments they were a trio again was when Lucy handed Narla over to Keira to look after her for a short while.

But despite the odd things that were happening with her mums, Narla liked Barcelona. It was warm, had beaches, friendly people, and nice rocks. It did a great deal to cheer up both of her mums, and Narla supposed that was the only thing she could ever really hope for.

It was a few months after the move to Spain when the Westie started to notice that Lucy seemed happier, brighter even. Previously she had wandered around with a slouch and a permanent worry line between her brows, but nowadays she walked with a pep in her step and was constantly grinning.

And she was also attached to that strange black box that she carried everywhere. It had weird lights and made loud sounds, and often Lucy would shove it into Narla’s face before showing her a mini version of herself which was mildly terrifying. More often than not, Narla would saunter into Lucy’s bedroom and find her owner tucked under the covers with that glowing box in her hand and smiling giddily, fingers tap tapping at the screen.

Narla wasn’t sure what had changed her mum’s demeanour so much, but she much preferred this oddly joyful Lucy to the mopey one that had existed only months ago.

She didn’t have to wait long to find out the cause, however, as it only took a few weeks before the English woman was curling up on her bed with her pup and spilling it all.

“I’ve met someone, and I think she might be the one.”

Narla blinked. She had heard of ‘the one’ before. Her other mum Keira had murmured it to her recently when speaking about her new partner, Laura, and now Lucy was too. She still didn’t know what it meant, but she assumed that it was something like a dog’s mate. It clearly meant that the person was special to them, so Narla let out a little supportive bark in response.

“She’s pretty, and she’s Spanish, and oh! She’s everything, Narla,” Lucy gushed, excitedly waving her arms around in the air as she spoke.

“She’s in England right now, playing in Manchester, can you believe it?” Lucy continued, face almost dreamy as she spoke about her new mystery girl. “The wrong side of it, but it’s funny how we played against each other and I didn’t even notice her until now.”

The dog hadn’t seen her mum like this before. So smitten. Lucy had been happy with Keira, at least until the end, but this teenagerlike giddiness was something different altogether. Maybe it was because it was new, but Narla already felt more cheerful at the sight of Lucy being so happy about something.

“I can’t wait for you to meet her. I know you will love her.” The ‘like I do’ remained unspoken, as Lucy felt that it was too early to admit something like that, even to her dog, but Narla looked at her knowingly after those words.

“I’m happy,” Lucy whispered into the air, and then was silent. Narla took that as a sign to burrow into Lucy’s chest and fall asleep, dreaming of sticks, and rocks, and a faceless woman who made her human smile brighter than she ever had before.

A couple more weeks had passed until there was someone new around the house, Narla had noticed. Ona. That was her name. She spoke in a deep accented tone, her English in that familiar accent that the Westie had gotten accustomed to over the past few months or so. She always gave Narla a friendly cuddle when she saw her - it turns out Spaniards were super affectionate with animals too - and would occasionally slip her a treat that the dog would eagerly snap up.

At first, it was merely a few visits, Ona curling up with Lucy and Narla on the couch and scratching behind the dog’s ears in a certain way that only a select few knew how to do. That was impressive, Narla thought, and so she opted to cuddle up with Ona whenever she came around.

Sometimes her mum and Ona would do that weird human thing where they pressed their faces together and like… licked? Naturally, Narla wanted to get in with the fun, so she would clamber on one of their laps and leave her own lick up the sides of one of their faces, leading to them to break apart and burst into giggles. She didn’t really know what was so funny, but her favourite person being happy meant that she was happy too.

Then there was a brief bit of time where none of them were around, Narla having been carted off to her grandparent’s house, and she only saw her mums in photos or videos from another one of those little black boxes.

However once that strange period of time ended and Narla was safely back home, Ona was there almost every day, popping in after Lucy came home from training, humming in the kitchen in the morning, walking in step with the English woman while she took Narla on her daily walk.

Then suddenly the Westie was spending time with the Spanish woman alone. Narla used to go to Keira’s when Lucy was away, but soon she was left alone at home with Ona, who always gave her extra snacks and would press her finger to her lips in a shushing motion every time she did. Lucy wasn’t super stingy with snacks per se, but as an athlete, she was careful with diets and knew all too well what health problems could occur if an animal got too overweight. Ona on the other hand loved to spoil her animals, and would regularly dole out treats. Plus it wasn’t like Lucy didn’t know, as Narla had spotted her leaning against the door frame and smiling fondly as Ona ‘secretly’ placed a dog treat on the ground for her to devour.

“I hope you know that I love your mum very much. And I want to tell her that very soon,” Ona spoke out of the blue one day as she stroked Narla’s fur. Lucy had a day of interviews lined up and had figured that it would be nice if her pup had some company - especially after the two away games they had in the past week or two.

“I’m very fond of you too, perrita,” she added. “Listen, I’ve been researching and would you maybe want to learn a trick? In Spanish?”

Narla wasn’t really one for tricks and didn’t really like being told what to do too much, but the hope etched on Ona’s face made her relent, and she hopped down off the couch and looked up at the Spanish woman in preparation.

“I’ll go get the treats, be right back,” Ona said, jumping to her feet and borderline sliding across the hardwood floors towards the kitchen. Narla then heard a clatter followed by a muffled ‘mierda!’, and she took a few cautious steps towards the direction of the noise but before she could investigate any further, Ona popped back around the corner.

They settled next to the coffee table, and Ona folded her legs under her while Narla sat politely awaiting instruction.

“Okay, so you’re very famous, so I thought maybe you could use this when you meet your fans.” With that, Ona held out her hand palm up. Narla stared at her hand, confused and looked back up at the Spanish woman’s face who was looking back at her in expectation. She leaned forward and sniffed it, and Ona still smelt the same, so she cautiously licked her hand. Still, the Spaniard remained silent with her hand out.

Finally after a few minutes, Narla placed her paw on top of Ona’s hand and was immediately showered with praise and handed a treat. Then Ona once again held out her palm, and Narla placed her paw on top again, getting another treat for her efforts.

They did it a few more times, Ona extending the duration of time between Narla’s paw resting on her palm and giving her the treat, just to make sure that the Westie knew what she needed to do.

“We’re going to introduce a word now, okay?”

This time, when Ona extended her hand, she said ‘hola’, and waited for Narla to place her paw in her hand before praising her and giving her a treat. They went over this step for a wee while, it being slightly more difficult than before, but soon Narla was doing it consistently every time Ona said ‘hola’.

By the time Lucy came home, Ona was practically bouncing off the walls in excitement, elated that Narla had been bright enough to pick up the trick in only a day.

‘Hola, mi vida,” Lucy said tiredly as she walked into Ona’s outstretched arms, burrowing her head into the juncture of the Spaniard's neck. Narla raised her paw slightly at the familiar word but placed it down again as she regarded the lack of a hand in front of her.

“Narla and I have something to show you!” Ona exclaimed, grabbing Lucy’s hand and dragging her in the direction of her dog. “Now I want you to offer her your hand and greet her in Spanish, Entiendes?”

Narla watched as Lucy held her hand up to her, and then the English woman spoke.

“Bon dia?”

“Lucy! Not the right greeting. Come on,”

“Okay, okay. Hola?”

Hearing that word, Narla reached out her paw to touch Lucy’s hand and the fullback’s jaw dropped open as she softly shook her paw up and down. She turned to her girlfriend in awe, Ona grinning at her excitedly.

“Did you teach her to do this?” Lucy asked, and when the younger woman nodded at her, she gathered her in her arms and twirled them both around, Ona giggling at the action.

“I love you,” Lucy whispered, the statement only loud enough for Ona and Narla to hear. Narla’s ears pricked up at that, and she knew that this was a major deal. A soft expression was now written on Ona’s face, and soon her eyes were wet with tears as she pressed several kisses to Lucy’s lips, all while echoing the words back to her.

While Narla thought this whole display was nice, she kind of wanted her treat now, so she barked once to get their attention. Ona broke away from Lucy’s embrace and knelt down, pulling a treat out of her pocket. “Oh! Lo siento, Narla. Here’s a biscuit.”

“You spoil her rotten, you know that?”

“Only the best for your dog,” came the response, and if Narla wasn’t so preoccupied with her treat, then she would have seen her human wrap Ona up in another kiss.

–

Life with Ona was good, Narla thought, until that puppy came along. Ona’s energetic puppy named Coco. Coco loved Narla, and did Narla love him back? She wasn’t too sure. She definitely loved Ona, that much was obvious. The Spaniard might even edge Lucy out in terms of her favourite person if she continued to spoil her and scratch her head like she did, but unfortunately, Ona came with Coco, a small shaggy, black-and-white dog who loved to annoy her and slobber all over her precious rocks.

She had been rudely awoken from one of her well-earned naps one day by a series of high-pitched barks before a small weight had barrelled into her. A small excitable dog was the culprit, and she did her best to glare at Ona and Lucy who were looking on in amusement.

“This is Coco. Narla, meet Coco. He and Ona are going to be living with us from now on,” Lucy spoke, kissing the side of Ona’s head before grinning down at her dog.

Narla growled a little as Coco’s clumsy tail hit her in the face, and Lucy narrowed her eyes and ordered her to play nice. Internally she humphed in annoyance, but reluctantly she turned back to the puppy and scooched over so he could cuddle up with her. Just this once.

Many days, weeks, and months, passed and Narla and Lucy fell into a routine with Ona and Coco. They seemed to fit into their lives flawlessly, and soon it was as if they had always been there. Narla still saw Keira, of course, but not as much as she used to. She had been primarily Lucy’s dog, in the first place, but she still did miss her other mum sometimes.

The air was lighter in this apartment, Narla had noticed. Ona and Coco just seemed to feel like sunshine. And maybe it was because they were in sunny Barcelona not freezing England, but even Lucy’s whole demeanour had morphed into something brighter.

Ona and Lucy fought just like any other couple, and Narla would go curl up in a ball under the bed when they did - flashbacks from those final months with Keira still lingering in her mind. But it would blow over rather quickly, and her mum and her new mum (?), were always back to being sickeningly sweet in no time.

One night the two women arrived home after having dinner together, and Narla greeted them excitedly at the door and wagged her tail as Lucy scooped her up, Ona pressing kisses to the dog’s head. Coco stayed lying on his little bed, snoozing away, and Narla mentally rolled her eyes at his behaviour. Their humans were home, which was incredibly exciting, but clearly, he valued his nap much more.

They headed towards the lounge, and Ona said something about having a shower before heading away, and soon they could hear the water in the bathroom start to run.

Lucy collapsed on the couch, Narla still in her arms, and she let out a content sigh. A few moments passed.

“I love her, you know?”

Narla did know. Ona had been in their lives for almost three years now, and not a day went by where her mum didn’t show her love for the other woman. In fact, Ona was now one of her mums, Narla decided.

“You can’t tell anyone this, Narla,” Lucy whispered, expression serious and her gaze boring into her dog’s. If the Westie could roll her eyes she would have, she was an animal, who was she going to tell? but even so, she let out a little bark to urge her human to continue.

“I’m going to ask Ona to marry me.” With those words, the English fullback pulled a box out of her pants pocket and popped it open, a shiny diamond ring nestled delicately inside.

Narla always heard that humans gave each other rocks when they loved each other, and she understood completely. She loved rocks and collecting them, and while the ones that humans exchanged were much shiner than the ones she brought home, she still treasured her own much like they did.

“I know you don’t really understand the concept of marriage, but this is a big deal. This means I want Ona and Coco in our lives forever,” Lucy said earnestly, glancing at the ring she held in her hand and back at her dog. “Are you okay with that?”

Narla was more than okay. As much as the smaller dog annoyed her sometimes, she couldn’t help but be a bit fond of him. Ona was also positively wonderful, and Narla wouldn’t mind getting sneaky snacks forever. Not to mention she loved how much joy the Spanish woman had brought into their lives. To show her agreement, she nuzzled Lucy’s hand that was holding the ring box and let out a soft bark as she watched her owner’s face split into a grin.

“I knew you would approve, my best girl.”

Footsteps suddenly echoed in the hall and Lucy hurriedly snapped the box shut and stuffed it in her pants. Mere seconds later, Ona strode into the room and threw herself into Lucy’s side, fingers coming to scratch the top of Narla’s head.

“Your turn to have a shower,” the Spanish woman spoke, turning to Lucy who was looking at her absolutely besotted.

“Wanna come with me?”

“I just had one,” Ona laughed as Lucy tugged her up from the couch and into her arms.

“Can never be too clean,” came the smirked response and soon Lucy whisked her away back down the hall, Ona waving her hand as a goodbye to the Westie who remained on the couch. If Narla could smile, she would have.

A few days later, Lucy had set up a special dinner for herself and her girlfriend on their balcony. She had sent Ona off to spend the entire day with Aitana, and while she was away, the older woman had dragged out a small table and adorned it with a white tablecloth, a bouquet of roses, and a singular candle. She had strung out string lights along the railings to allow a soft golden glow to wash over everything and hid her speaker behind a pot plant that played Spanish love songs at a low volume.

Narla herself was just sitting in the corner gnawing on a toy and occasionally glancing up to watch as Lucy frantically ran to and fro. After a few hours of the English fullback slaving away in the kitchen, the delicious smell of paella soon filled the air, and Narla perked up at that. Whenever that dish was made in their home, she was always given at least one piece of shrimp.

By now Lucy had put the finishing touches on the balcony and quickly got changed into her outfit for the night - cream dress pants, a white no-sleeved shirt, and a matching cream blazer.

She ventured out to see Narla when she got the text from Ona that she was on her way home, and plucked her dog up, much to the Westie’s chagrin.

“Tonight’s the night, Narls. I’m gonna propose.”

Narla could hear the nerves in her mum’s voice, and so she licked her face to help soothe her worry. The dog knew that Ona loved her mum, and there was no way that the Spaniard would ever not accept Lucy’s shiny rock. But humans were strange and got into their heads about stuff, so all Narla could do was let Lucy hug her tight until the door to the apartment opened and Ona arrived home.

The Spanish woman had gotten ready for the date at Aitana’s, and Lucy was speechless as she took in the skintight white cocktail dress Ona was wearing. The younger woman did a twirl to show off her outfit and blushed prettily as Lucy gathered her into her arms to drop a kiss on her awaiting lips.

“The most beautiful woman on the planet,” the older woman breathed, and kissed away any objections her lover had to that comment.

“This way, baby,” Lucy murmured fondly as she laced her fingers with her girlfriend’s and led her over to the balcony. Ona gasped at the sight of the setup and the homemade paella on the table, and Lucy pulled out a chair for her to sit on.

Dinner was positively a dream, and Narla could feel the happiness radiating from both women as she observed them from her spot on the ground. After a few hours they were drunk on the wine and each other, but Lucy had begun to nervously wobble her leg under the table as she gathered up the courage to ask Ona the one life-changing question she so desperately wanted to ask.

The Spanish woman was just coming down from a fit of giggles at some story Lucy had told, and as the English woman drank in the way her cheeks dimpled as she smiled, she knew she had to do it immediately.

“Ona I… I’ve never been super good with words so if this comes out as a jumbled mess, I’m sorry.”

Ona looked slightly confused at her words, but nodded slightly in encouragement. Lucy sucked in a deep breath before continuing.

“Ever since you walked your way into my life with that smile of yours during Stan’s wedding, I think you’ve held a piece of my heart. It’s funny how life happens, you know? We knew each other long before that, but we didn’t know each other. Not really. And yet you were already so intertwined in my life because you were friends with my friends and I was living in your home city and playing with your national teammates, and it’s like some invisible string was tying us together just waiting for us to finally notice each other.”

Lucy was crying a little now, emotional as she gazed up at the woman she adored so much. “Oh Ona, I don’t think there’s any other universe where I don’t fall head over heels in love with you. None. It’s just not possible.”

As she said those words, Lucy slowly knelt to the ground in front of Ona, and the younger woman gasped and pressed a hand to her mouth as she registered what was happening.

“Hell, even my dog loves you more than she loves me! I don’t think I could ever picture my life without you and Coco in it, and I don’t ever want to either. You’re my best friend, Ona, and I would be so, so happy to have you both in my life - to be mine - forever. So.. et casaràs amb mi, amor meu?” With that, Lucy pulled the ring box out of her pocket and popped the lid, the diamond sparkling in the setting sunlight.

“Sí, yes, of course, I will marry you amor!” Ona sobbed as she yanked Lucy up from her knees and twined her arms around her neck before kissing her passionately, pouring every ounce of emotion into the action.

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” Lucy whispered into Ona’s hair as they embraced, body tingling at how surreal this all felt. She was marrying the love of her life. Narla watched on from her spot in the corner and immediately knew what she had to do.

Bounding away into the house, Narla ran to her own bed and scavenged around until she found her favourite rock - the one she barely let anyone touch - and picked it up in her mouth before hurriedly making her way back to her humans. Lucy and Ona were still wrapped up in each other, laughing, pressing their faces together, and occasionally Lucy would twirl the Spaniard around. Narla stood waiting for them to notice her, but when they didn’t, she ran over and nudged Ona’s leg with her nose.

The Spanish woman tore her eyes off Lucy as she felt the touch, and looked at the small dog who was standing at their feet. Narla placed her rock on the ground in front of her, and politely sat, wagging her tail.

“Is she..?” Ona trailed off as she stared at the Westie in front of her, the rock lying like an offering.

“I think she’s proposing to you too. I mean look at the size of that rock,” Lucy laughed, burying her face into the other fullback’s neck as she realised what her dog was doing.

“Aw, Narla! I would be honoured,” Ona grinned, bending down to gently take the rock that Narla had presented to her and brought the dog into her arms. Lucy’s own arms were soon around the both of them and Narla snuggled into their chests, content to be with her humans.

“My girls,” the English woman whispered, happy tears almost threatening to spill again.

“Mi chicas,” Ona echoed, pressing a kiss to her fianceé’s lips (déu meu, they were going to be married), and letting out an elated giggle.

A series of sharp barks rang through the air, interrupting the moment, and all three looked down to see Coco jumping and yelping at them. Lucy let out another chuckle - she couldn’t seem to stop smiling lately - and brought him into their embrace.

“And my boy, as well,” Lucy added, pecking Coco’s scraggly head. All of them stood there for a short while, just basking in their little domestic bubble and enjoying the moment as the sun set behind them. Life was good.

Later that night after Lucy had banished her from the bedroom, Narla nestled into her own bed, happy at how successful the day had gone. Ona and Lucy were both impossibly happy, that much was evident as she had taken in their shiny eyes and the way they had been wrapped around each other for most of the night.

Her musings were interrupted as quick feet came rushing in her direction and came to a grinding halt in front of her.

Coco dropped a small pebble in front of her and looked at her with bright eyes, and Narla sighed. She supposed she would let him cuddle with her, just for tonight.

#lucy bronze x ona batlle #ona batlle x lucy bronze #lucy bronze #ona batlle #woso fanfics #woso imagine #my fics

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atiny-moon · 10 months

Text

Kim H.J.

18+ FANFIC. MINORS DNI

Genre: possibly the most self-indulgent smut ever

Pairing: dom!hongjoong x sub!fem!reader

Tags: dom/sub dynamics, hongjoong is a little mean, spanking, light biting, light choking, nipple play, there is one pussy slap, fingering, oral (f receiving), lmk if i missed anything

Word Count: 4.4K

18+ FANFIC. MINORS DNI

Walking with Hongjoong was never boring. Both men and women and everything in-between broke their necks to watch him as he walked by. It made you feel a swirling mixture of emotions - on the one hand, you loved that everyone wanted him, but on the other, people always looked at you as if you didn’t belong with him. Like there was something wrong with you for even daring to stand by his side. The thing is, Hongjoong chose you.

The both of you met using one of those services that help the uber-wealthy find their significant others, except this service had a bit of an alternative flair. Really, the service was used to pair doms with subs but only of a very particular and very high tax-bracket. The doms were presented with a list of subs that met their criteria and the dom had the final say on which sub they were interested in. Erego, Hongjoong chose you. Out of a plethora of other subs he chose you.

That’s why it was so strange to walk beside him and have people shun you for simply being in his presence. You both belonged in the same tax bracket, dammit! And! If you were some sort of hideous creature from the black lagoon, you highly doubted Kim Hongjoong would choose to enter into this agreement with you.

Feeling a little insecure and a little lost in your thoughts, you reached your hand out to hold his hand but stopped yourself just before making contact. Hongjoong had very few rules and his number one rule was No Touching. This broke your heart because physical affection was your favorite form of affection. Not feeling his skin on yours was a special kind of torture, especially when you were feeling so small.

So, you returned your hand to your side and rubbed the palm on the side of your trousers, hoping the friction would alleviate your momentary touch starvation.

Hongjoong noted your subtle movements and let the smallest of smirks crawl up the corner of his lips. He liked that you listened.. He liked that you didn’t push his boundaries. He liked the way you looked and carried yourself. But, most of all, he liked how good you were.

That’s why, a moment later he was placing the softest of touches to the side of your waist. The sudden feeling caused your heart to skip a beat. You swallowed a big gulp of air and tried to act as if nothing was happening. But deep down all you wanted was for him to keep his hand on your body, anywhere on your body, as long as he was the one doing it.

“We’re here,” he breathed into your ear.

The whisper was warm on the shell of your ear and paired with his fingertips on your waist, you could have let him take you right then and there. But instead, you steeled yourself and took a look at where ‘here’ was.

Hongjoong had the door open to a very chic looking clothing boutique. As you stepped through the threshold, Hongjoong immediately dropped his hand from your body. You couldn’t control the small pout that formed on your lips in response. Luckily, he was too busy with the attendant behind the counter to notice. You heard a snippet of a conversation, something along the lines of, “Carlos, get the dressing room ready.” But, by this point you were already inside the store, completely distracted by all the pretty things.

The store itself had high-ceilings with long drippy light fixtures to accentuate the height. White marble ran through the entire length of the store, and even up the farthest wall, blurring the line between floor and ceiling. The wall on the right was lined with racks of clothing while the wall on the left held a display for handbags and shoes. In the center of the store were several free-standing jewelry display cases.

You were currently peering into one of the jewelry cases when a small gold pendant caught your eye - the brand was unfamiliar but you swear you could make out K.H.J in the design. Hm, that was interesting. You examined the surroundings a bit more and found that same brand on several of the handbags, shoes, and even some of the clothing. You picked up one of the bags from the display and read the label - Kim H.J. Wait, did that mean? Is this his store?! But wasn’t he a part of Ateez?!

“Do you like it?”

You whipped around with the purse in your hand to face Hongjoong and were about to barrage him with a series of questions but instead your mouth was left agape. He dropped off his coat somewhere and was just left in a slim fitting black long sleeve button down and slim fitting black slacks. The sleeves of his button down were rolled up to his forearm, exposing the expensive watch on his wrist - the one you got him for your 100th day together. His brown hair was pushed back away from his face exposing his perfectly intense features.

Suddenly your mouth was dry. As much as you wanted to, you couldn’t form any words. You blinked back your initial dumbfoundedness and tried to string together a sentence. How could someone look so incredibly handsome wearing such a simple outfit?

“I asked you a question,” his voice stern. The sudden change in attitude brought you back down to earth and you were quick to nod your head. To save yourself from any further mental reboots, you tore your gaze away from his and focused on the bag at hand.

“It’s beautiful..” You managed to mutter. And you really meant it! The handle was a beautiful gold color and the bag itself felt rich and luxurious.

“Good. It’s yours.” Hongjoong stated flatly.

You looked at him again with wonder and confusion but he was turned away, facing toward the same attendant as before. “Carlos, get her one in every color.”

While you were both in the same tax bracket, a bag in every color seemed a bit ridiculous, even for your standards. Your hands were already in the process of putting the bag back while your mouth stumbled over which words to use, “What? I.. I can’t.. That’s tha-”

Hongjoong closed the distance between you while you were still hemming and hawing about whether you were worthy enough to deserve a handbag in every color. He caught your chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting your head up and forcing you to look at him. “It’s my store,” his voice low enough that only you two could hear, “and you’re my girl.”

The last sentence made you swoon and if he weren’t holding you in place you were sure to have fallen to your knees. His eyes lingered on yours for what felt like an eternity before he let your chin go. Your face burned where his fingers just were - oh, how you wanted him to keep touching you.

“Come, I have something to show you,” He removed the handbag from your hand and placed it back on the display.

Again, your hand reached out to hold his but he was already turning from you and heading to a pair of double doors near the register. You followed closely behind, holding your breath for whatever was to follow.

To your relief, there wasn’t some big bad monster behind the double doors, just a fitting room. The same white marble from the store was carried into the dressing room with pretty black and gold accents highlighting key features. To the right was a series of low cabinetry (presumably with general household items inside) while to the left and to the back of the room were racks of clothing.

Your eyes immediately darted from this to that while trying to take it all in. Everything was so carefully decorated and curated you wondered how he had time to run a clothing store while being an idol. Your fine manicured nails tapped along the black cabinetry as you made your way around the room. You found yourself standing in front of a free-standing rack of clothing filled with an assortment of elegant garments.

“I want you to try those on,” Hongjoong said.

You turned to face him only to find him seated right in front of the wall of mirrors in a low black chair. His arms relaxed onto the sides of the seat as he made himself comfortable. Those ever-piercing brown eyes intently watching your every move.

The intensity from his gaze made your face flush. He was only sitting there, how could he have such a strong grip on your very core? You swallowed a big gulp of air and nodded.

“Use your words… you have such a pretty voice.” The way he intonated his words made you want to crawl right in-between his legs and lavish him with all of your attention. But instead you mustered up the courage to turn and face him directly and nod. “Yes, sir.”

He cocked a brow at your response while running his tongue along his bottom lip. The visual sent an even deeper blush to crawl up your cheeks and even reach your ears. Not wanting to keep him waiting, your fingers began to make quick work of removing your clothing. You were in the process of unbuttoning your blouse when you heard Hongjoong chuckle dryly.

“You’re wearing the set I gave you.. Good.”

Suddenly your fingers felt like lead. How could he tell you were wearing the black mesh lingerie set he gifted you? You were only on your third button! Did he just expect you to have it on? Was he hoping you were wearing it? Or did he just have super vision and could actually see through clothes? You licked your lips while trying to gather your thoughts and continued undoing your blouse. As you bent down to pull off your trousers, Hongjoong sighed something deep and heavy.

“You look so good like that, sweetness.”

The pet name caught you off guard and it took everything in you not to pounce on him. He was so devilishly good with his words that you almost forgot about the No Touching rule. You cleared your throat and faced him before bringing yourself to your full height. You watched as his dark eyes took their time traveling the length of your body, admiring every curve before finally coming up to look you in the eye.

“Which one do I try on first, sir?” Your voice barely above a whisper. But you were determined not to let him down. He liked your voice, right? So you were going to let him hear it.

Hongjoong’s finger traced along his bottom lip, aware of the effect it had on you. He liked tormenting you, making you beg for even the slightest crumb of affection. The thing is, you were just so darned good he could never bring himself to hold out for too long. He crossed one leg over the other before saying, “The blue one.”

He continued to watch you with that intense gaze of his as you turned back to the rack of clothes to find ‘the blue one.’ With your back to him you could still feel the weight of his eyes on your body. The slow and careful trail they blazed along your backside caused an eruption of goosebumps to wash over your body. You busied yourself with finding the garment and were rewarded with a pale blue silky number. Removing it from the rack, you could see it was a floor-length silk dress with delicately thin spaghetti straps.

You undid the invisible zipper and stepped into the dress. You pulled the straps over your shoulders and were just about to pull up the zipper when you realized you couldn’t quite reach. “Can you please zip me up, sir?”

You heard the slow shuffle of heeled loafers on marble moments before the warmth of Hongjoong’s fingers found your back. Every time he touched you it was like a shock of electricity. His touches were so far and few between you couldn’t get used to the way his hands felt on your body. You held your breath as he closed the zipper, running his finger nails along the length of your spine excruciatingly slow. Without a word, he grabbed you by the hips and spun you around so you were facing the mirror and he was standing behind you.

Truth be told, you were never really fond of looking at yourself in mirrors - it always felt like someone else. But with Hongjoong behind you and his hands on your body, you were able to take in the full vision. Your head tilted to the side as you appreciated your form in this dress. The silk hung on your body as if it were made for you.

“I sent the factory a photo of your eyes and had them color match the silk,” Hongjoong breathed into your neck, the warmth of his words causing your knees to buckle slightly. Wait, so this dress was actually made for you?! The understanding of his words dawned on you and you were about to protest when you felt the familiar nip of his teeth on your shoulder. You moaned immediately in response and could feel Hongjoong’s grin spread on his lips. You wanted to reach your hands behind you and touch him but you restrained yourself, only tilting your head further to allow him more access.

You looked at the mirror and caught his gaze in it. He was standing behind you with his hands firmly on your hips, his lips pressing against your shoulder, and those deep dark eyes of his intently staring back at you. You watched as he sprinkled butterfly kisses on your right shoulder before moving to your left shoulder. The feeling of his lips on your skin paired with his grip on your hips had you absolutely frozen in place. He nipped at your shoulder again which elicited another moan to fall from your lips, his eyes never tearing away from yours.

The intensity of the moment was too much - you wanted so badly to turn and face him, to devour him with kisses but instead you broke eye contact first and closed your eyes. Focusing on regulating your breathing. Hongjoong respected this small respite and after a moment he began to unzip your dress. The pout was immediate and uncontrolled - did you do something to upset him? Should you not have broken eye contact?

You were so lost in thought you didn’t realize that Hongjoong had also slipped the dress off you and had resumed his position behind you, with his hands on your hips. It wasn’t until the first slap on your bare ass did you come back to him.

“Stay here with me,” he whispered. One hand was holding you in place while the other was softly rubbing the freshly spanked ass cheek. The stinging sensation was slow to form but when it did, it felt like it took over your entire body. “Don’t look away. I want you to watch.” His voice was low and stern but it made you go absolutely feral. You brought your gaze back to the mirror. The hand that was rubbing soft circles on your ass cheek lifted momentarily before delivering another slap. The pain was so sharp it tore a moan from your lips. You threw your head back in pure ecstasy but tried your best to keep watching Hongjoong in the mirror. The intensity that was normally in his eyes deepened and it was then that a familiar smile spread on his lips.

“You. Are. So. Fucking. Pretty.” Every word was accentuated with a slap to your bare ass. And every time he delivered a smack, you reciprocated with a moan. The excitement between your legs was quickly growing. He was so good at making you feel good.

He pulled your body flush to his, so there was nothing separating you but the thin fabric of his fancy attire and your skimpy lingerie. One hand firmly on your hips, holding you in place while the other was slow to come up and wrap around the base of your neck. Again, you wanted to reach for him, to touch him in any way but you restrained yourself. Hongjoong was so incredibly deliberate with his kisses - small, soft, barely there touches along the sensitive skin of your neck all the way up to your ear. It was a divine contradiction to the stinging hand print on your ass.

His fingers tightened their grip on your neck and you could feel his dick starting to harden as it pressed against your back. Daringly, you pressed your body further into his, hoping to accelerate the process. But instead, Hongjoong stopped his kisses to lock eyes with you once more in the mirror. The sternness in his gaze made your breath catch in your throat and you were quick to move away from his body. Pleased with your reaction, Hongjoong continued to his slow and deliberate torture of barely touching your skin with his lips. He was going to take his time and you were going to enjoy it.

Releasing both the hold on your hip and the hold on your neck, Hongjoong let his hands draw light, feathery touches on the exposed skin of your arms, your belly, even the tops of your thighs.. His fingers grazed dangerously close to the hem of your black mesh thong and you could feel the excitement between your legs deepen at all of the soft touches. His hands found their way to your bra and undid the clasp. The sudden cold air on your tits made your nipples harden immediately. Hongjoong reveled in the sight of your exposed breasts and couldn’t resist the temptation to slap them and pinch at your nipples.

You let out another series of ungodly moans while writhing in a mixture of pain and pleasure. Hongjoong continued to pinch and play with your nipples until you could barely form coherent thoughts. You wanted him to stop but you didn’t at the same time. The combination of pain and pleasure was bringing you to an edge you didn’t even know you had. And just as it was getting too overwhelming, Hongjoong stopped. You struggled to manage your breathing while he moved to stand in front of you. You blinked up at him, still whirling from the near over-stimulation.

“Say the word and I’ll stop, sweetness.” His finger tilting your chin up to look at him. Genuine concern and worry were starting to creep into his eyes.

It took you a moment before you could nod and respond, “Yes sir.”

“Good fucking girl.”

The grin that spread across his lips was pure sex. His hand quickly wrapped around the base of your throat once more and forcefully brought you into a kiss. Finally. You eagerly pressed your lips against his and returned the kiss. The grip on your neck loosened and that same hand began to explore your body with its feather light touches yet again.

The kiss was a deep, passionate thing that set your entire core on fire. Just his lips had this effect on you and it made you crazy for the rest of him. His hand worked its way quicker down your body this time, only stopping to give your tits a light squeeze before making its way to the hem of your thong. You wanted to focus on his touches but kissing Hoongjoong was such a delight that you couldn’t bear to tear yourself away from it. That is, until his hand slipped underneath the fabric of your panties and his fingers pressed into your clit. The resulting touch sent a shock of electricity through your body causing you to moan into the kiss.

“I love how wet you get for me.” Hoongjoong smiled. You didn’t care what he had to say, you just wanted his lips on yours again. But when you leaned in for another kiss, he smacked your clit. You yelped in response and he only shook his head. “You’re doing so good, don’t fuck it up.”

You bit your bottom lip and nodded.

Fuck. It was hard for Hongjoong not to immediately cave in and give you what you wanted when you pouted at him like that. His gaze softened just a touch as his fingers started rubbing small circles on your clit. You dared not break eye contact with him but you did allow a shaky breath to pass through your lips. Hongjoong rewarded you by pressing a little bit harder into your clit, giving you the friction that you so dearly desired. Your bodies were so close together, you could feel his completely hardened dick press on the inside of your thigh, right next to where his fingers were pleasing you.

As the pace of his fingers increased, your breathing became irregular and shallow. You were about to ask for permission to cum when all of a sudden, Honjoong pulled away completely. He moved a foot back from you and you dared not to breach that distance. Instead you stood there, knees wobbling and breathing haggard staring up at him with wide doe eyes. You looked absolutely ravished and you hadn’t even started yet. While the both of you tried to calm your breathing, Hongjoong demanded you take off your panties.

You pulled off the black mesh thong and used that time to finally calm your breathing, the arousal in between your thighs subsiding momentarily. But from the corner of your eye you saw Hongjoong with his hand over his bulge, his palm rubbing the full length of his hardened dick through his pants. The sight alone was enough to make your heart race.

He stood there admiring your naked form for what felt like an eternity. Then, he dropped to his knees in front of you, his face eye level with your tormented pussy. He looked up at you and you swore this is what heaven must look like.

“Tell me what you want, sweetness.”

You could feel his breath on your sensitive clit and that alone was enough to send a shiver through your body. You tried to speak but nothing came out at first so you cleared your throat and tried again. This time it was far more hoarse and ragged than you meant it to be but how could you focus when Hongjoong was on his knees in front of you, staring up at you as if you were his north star.

“I want you to eat my pussy, sir.” Even as you heard yourself say the words, you couldn’t believe you were able to actually say them.

Hongjoong responded with that devilish grin once more and maintained eye contact with you as he flicked his tongue across your clit. Your pussy was earth-shatteringly sensitive at this point and that initial contact sent another shock of electricity through your body. You wanted to run your fingers through his hair, hold his head in place and not let him leave until he made you cum a thousand times over but you held back. You watched as his tongue expertly massaged your sensitive folds, moan after moan falling from your lips. He loved hearing you respond to his touches.

His hands gripped at your hips and held you in place as his tongue continued its exploration of your clit. He buried his face into your core, lapping up your juices as if it were nectar from the gods. Using his fingers, Hongjoong started to play with your entrance, teasing the delicate spot for a moment before slowly inserting his index finger. He began to pump his finger in and out ever so slowly, allowing you to get used to the feeling before inserting a second finger. All the while his tongue continued to devour your soaking wet pussy.

At this point you couldn’t hold back, you looked down at him and begged, “Please, sir, can I touch you?” Your breath was something between a whisper and a moan but all Hongjoong did was smile, the crinkles around his eyes forming slightly. Taking this as a yes, you finally let your hands fall into the mess of his brown hair. You rake your hands through his hair before taking a handful and grabbing it, effectively holding him in place. You could feel Hongjoong moan in response as the echoes of his moan reverberated against your throbbing pussy.

With the feel of his fingers pumping inside you, expertly hitting that g-spot and his tongue swirling around on your clit you could feel the orgasm building between your thighs. You didn’t want this moment to end but you also wanted the sweet release. You tried to hold out as long as you could but it was to no avail. Hongjoong watched as your face contorted into his favorite expression which only prompted him to pump his fingers faster.

Your breathing was shallow and irregular and you could feel the familiar warmth of an orgasm creeping up inside you. You wanted so badly to prolong this moment but Hongjoong was just too damned good.

“Can I please.. Sir.. Can I cum?” It was hard for you to speak but it was even harder for you to hold back your orgasm. Hongjoong pulled his face away from your pussy, his lips and chin covered in your juices.

“Yes.” It was barely a whisper but it was enough for you to release the high that you had been building. The orgasm ripped through your body in several waves, causing your knees to buckle and the grip in Hongjoong’s hair tightened. He eagerly watched as you rode the high, eventually slowing down the pace of his fingers to allow you to come back down gradually. When you did, you locked eyes with him and released the hold you had on his hair.

Hongjoong rose to his feet and embraced you in a deep hug, his lips pressing against yours with the same intensity as before. And while you wanted to return the favor, all you could do was barely wrap your arms around him as you tried to gather yourself. You could taste yourself on his lips and that made your throbbing pussy twitch at the possibility of another round. Hongjoong pulled himself away with a content smile on his lips.

“You’re so fucking good, sweetness.”

#ateez #ateez smut #ateez fanfic #ateez hongjoong #hongjoong x reader #x reader #x y/n #x y/n smut #smut #hard thoughts #hard hours #x you

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crabonfire · 1 year

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Stupid and dumb tf2 headcannons cause I somebody do these on tiktok and they rile me up

Pyro regularly goes to strip clubs and he would fucking clap at the strippers like "😊👏👏" because he's a weirdo and I love it, demoman and Soldier would go too, both wanting to have a good time but soldier would probably be more impressed at how flexible they can be instead of everything else

They have movie nights where they vote and scout chooses action every single time while most mercs would want something else, they accuse him of being scared because he never ever chooses horror and he's like "pfft, no! Horror is just...lame to me." And engie snorts and was like "Yeah okay buddy." So they watched horror that night to prove it to him and surprisingly he was composed during it, but he didn't sleep that night, or the coming nights until he finally convinced himself it was just a movie and nobody was living in his closets.

Spy is a little too into weapons. One time when they all got a crate of weapons they had all been wanting when it came to his crate bro was practically SAVORING the knives and guns he was holding, he was sputtering French compliments while he was CARESSING those weapons. Everybody was so weirded out Sniper had to tell him to cut it out. He simply said that he was "impressed" by the refined beauty of said weapons. (if he starts moaning over those guns don't be surprised)

They also have game nights, it was scouts idea. Usually only Pyro, Engineer, Demoman, Soldier would join, while others would be spectating. They always go the same way, the game starts out simple, Engineer starts arguing with Soldier because he's not playing right, they start fighting and it turns into a bet to see who will win this time. Pyro and demoman will continue the game with Scout because they are so used to this, while Medic will cheer and egg them on. Spy would be like, "Look at you two, fighting like a bunch of children." But he finds it sooo entertaining.

Barbecue nights with engie!

Sniper smells like ASS. Anytime he's at the base, somebody has to remind him to shower, and he gets so embarrassed he's like, "Shit. Sorry." And just speedwalks to the shower rooms. When he comes back, he uses an insane amount of shampoo and cologne, so he actually smells really good afterwards. He's used to his own bad smell so he never actually notices.

Spy has greasy fucking hair. Like seriously, does he even wash that baklava? I don't think so (that voice line from Ms pauling proves me right) he's a man thay takes care of his physical attributes yes, but he doesn't ever find a need for his hair because he never takes that damn thing off, only when he showers and sleeps, that's it.

If for example, your dating him and after a while you want to see him without it, he's handsome yeah omggg so cute but GOD FUCKING DAMNNN THAT FUCKING HAIR MASHAALLAHHH brother wtfffff you have to shower with him and clean out his hair from him. He's like "it's not that big of a deal seriously" but after you wash it and it becomes soft and conditioned he becomes embarrassed realising how bad it really was. (Also, he probably has mask lines if it's been hot and he's been wearing it for too long)

Engineer has a shameful addiction of sweets. Like, I feel like he stress eats especially when his inventions go wrong and I have a headcannon back in uni when he was studying, since he was already so smart the MOMENT something was not perfect he would freak the fuck out and start eating chocolate so aggressively like

"What's wrong with this damn thing om nom mommmfh fuckin- mmmomom"

After he graduated and became a merc, since he got better and perfected his craft (for the most part) this rarely occurred, when it does tho, just know he's stepping out of his workshop, going to a gas station and buying so much candy. (This only happens when it's REALLY bad though.)

Heavy actually really likes American food. He thought he'd hate it, but he doesn't find it that bad. He likes cheeseburgers and steaks, very yummy. Medic doesn't like it when he eats them because they can be a tad bit unhealthy, but he's happy that it makes him happy.

Medic got into birds when he was young, feel like he had a bird feeder as a kid outside his house and would like to observe them from his window, when it got cold he'd offer them a place inside and ended up having bonds with them. Archimedes and his doves reminds him of childhood, a simpler time.

#tf2 #tf2 headcanons #tf2 x reader #tf2 scout #tf2 pyro #tf2 soldier #tf2 demoman #tf2 medic #tf2 heavy #tf2 engineer #tf2 sniper #tf2 spy #silly #hehe #i love them #bht theyre sooo gross #but i love them

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l4long-winded · 9 months

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ii. consequences and a lead

summary: sherlock doesn't usually regret things, but he's regretting how he spoke to you. it's not out of the goodness of his heart, however (cavill!sherlock x afab!reader)

reflection: this second part may be the shortest of this mini-series, but i do plan for things to pick up after. the third part is already sitting at over 3,000 words and it's unedited and unfinished. i am excited to see interest going up since i've been thinking about this story for months now. watching it come to life has been a fun and challenging endeavor so i hope you enjoy! please feel free to leave feedback to your heart's desire.

warnings: seamstress!reader, condescending!sherlock, mystery brewing, cursing, suggestive language, somewhat slowburn, enemies to lovers, eventual smut, victorian era (please let me know if there are other warnings i need to add)

word count: 1,834

previously: a sleep deprived meeting

The joints in Sherlock’s knuckles crack as he flexes his hand at his side, jaw squaring off the longer he stands and stares at the golden 221A sitting on the door ahead. He’s not one to be apologetic, and he currently isn’t whatsoever. There always come these instances where he comes off as rude because of how blunt he is and how blatant he can be in his dismissing tone. Misunderstandings occur, bitterness emerging as a result since he’s a problem solver, not a linguist meant for socializing and getting along with others. Because of this, sometimes he’ll say the wrong thing and hurt feelings he never meant to in the first place. Though, he doesn’t turn back on the things he says, not unless he finds he’s logically in the wrong. This is hardly ever the case. He may be inept in reading and coddling emotions, but that doesn’t mean he’s off the mark. That doesn’t mean he’s not right.

In his line of work, there are bound to be feathers ruffled. No one likes to be analyzed, much less when it comes to a crime they’ve committed. You, the one sitting behind this door, have not committed any crime (to his knowledge), but you’re connected to the one he’s investigating at this moment. It’s been two days since you rattled the stairs and confronted him at his flat. He made it very clear how he didn’t want to be disturbed through how he talked and how he disregarded you, how he ignored your complaint about his violin because it was the only thing helping him navigate his proactive brain in this puzzle of a mess. Much like you, he hadn’t slept in a while, which could have caused him to be ill-mannered from the stress building in the background (another thing to ignore), so he didn’t want to rid of the one thing keeping his head together. He could have just gone to sleep to avoid being discourteous and refrain from chiming his violin further, but that’s not how it went down. He’s now suffering from the consequences of his actions, having to wait patiently after he knocks, to which then he would have to answer for his actions, all for a chance at a lead.

He went back to reviewing his evidence yesterday, a day after the incident with you, and he realized the piece of fabric etched with dried crimson at his disposal matched the same fabric of the sleeves adorning your forearms. You didn’t utilize the same fabric on your skirts or on your bodice, he would have noticed this. He has a tendency to notice just about everything and with you… with you it was easier than usual. Every detail matters, it’s the mantra that plays every time he observes someone much more than they need to be. It’s the same one that egged him on to note the color of your eyes, the way your hair fell into your face, and how your chest heaved in the anger you tried and failed to hide in order to file your noise complaint. Where he can restrain himself and dwindle down whatever emotions may lie in him, the little that there are, you are the antithesis. You wear your emotions on your sleeve, the sleeve made out of his evidence, even if the occasion calls for a calm demeanor. Perhaps such a demeanor would have worked with someone else who wasn’t Sherlock, who wasn’t as stubborn about their music and their contemplation.

It’s the demeanor he writes on his face at this moment, willing himself to knock onto the door with a cautious fist that doesn’t teeter on too soft or too hard of a pressure. Either one and you may consider him passive or a brute. He thinks about things like this, things others would brush over since they deem them too simple or too trivial. Nuances can make or break perception even if said person’s perception is unaware of them.

“Be right there!” comes through the door and Sherlock unconsciously begins to time your arrival. He shifts his weight to his right and counts the seconds under his breath, 16, 17, 18, you must be in the middle of something. It could be you’re crafting a dress, or he’s caught you in the middle of lunch, or perhaps you’re tending to a customer at this very moment and he’s interrupted your business. You interrupted his, but from how you didn’t seem to care about his appearance and his name, he knows you’re unfamiliar with him and his work. 34, 35, 36, he couldn’t possibly think everyone in the area knew him, but he would think that at least his downstairs neighbor would. This is a place where it’s easy for infamy to travel. Word gets out through the papers, through his visits to various locations nearby, his legend expanding with every case he solves. But, now that he thinks about it, he doesn’t recall when you moved in. You must be new, certainly. He would’ve remembered… oh, he definitely would’ve remembered you.

Sherlock is about to start the 50s in his counting when your door comes open. He watches the scenery come slowly to him from your flat, his head moving until it stops to see you step through in… in a chemise sans any other form of layering. Your hair is up again, but the strands that have fallen out of the pins are wet and darkened. That’s why it took you so long. You weren’t working on anything nor were you eating—you were taking a bath. And a relatively good one since your face immediately falls upon the recognition of Sherlock, a bright, relaxed grin giving way to a grimace. Something about that is amusing to him, but he doesn’t let it show on his face. Antithesis, remember?

“Mr. Holmes… to what do I owe the pleasure?” You’re mocking in your tone, eyes rolling to the ceiling. Oddly enough, you don’t turn away from him. Your shoulder sags into the door frame, arms crossing against your chest. The dainty fabric draws attention there coupled with the action, swells above your breasts that he immediately turns away from. He’s rebellious in refusing to look despite a curiosity filling him. It’s an unfortunate matter that you’re not the worst thing to look at. In fact, it’s quite the opposite. Something about you is pleasing to his eyes, attractive in a way he knows is bound to turn heads had you walked down the length of a pub with suitors tossing waves about for a single glance their way. He’s come across beautiful women in the past, some who have attempted to gain his favor, others who have done so to gain his fortune. You’re a bit different since you’re seeking to do neither and he’s the one who needs something here. The power scales have tipped, and he can feel sweat on his brow thinking of how you can deny him and saunter back into your flat. Back into that bath. Free of the chemise, the gentle steps of your bare feet tracing back to a tub most likely. He smells lavender coming from you and he determines you were trying to relax before he showed up.

“Uh,” he clears his throat, stands straighter and focuses on a spot just above your head. It’s easier than staring since his brain is deducing everything about you without his permission. It has a wreckless habit of doing that, working against him instead of for him. “Excuse me for bothering you, but I’ve discovered something that requires your expertise.” He swallows a knot in his throat when he hears you laugh in what he can only call spite. He stops himself from knitting his eyebrows together, knowing very well how he must be put together if he wants to gain further information. This is one of the routes he saw thinking of how this conversation could go.

“Mr. Holmes, surely you must be joking. My expertise? Really?” Your hand covers your mouth to muffle further laughter so at least you’re trying to be friendlier than days ago, but it’s a futile endeavor. Sherlock can feel the disdain for him radiating off of you and he can’t blame you considering how he acted. He’s still not sorry for it, but it’s understandable. Just like others who were the victims of his observations, you’re scorned and you’re not about to let him forget about it. “After how you treated me the other day, this is the last thing I expected. Not only do you have nerve, but you’re rather tenacious.” You wipe off an imaginary tear from under your eye and then sigh out blissfully once the invasion of the giggles flees. He’s not jovial in the slightest.

“I know how you feel, but this is a crucial endeavor, I can assure you. I’m a detective consultant, you see, and your knowledge may prove valuable in solving the current case I’m working on.” You’re laughing again before he even finishes. The greater good is at stake and you’re laughing. Is this how you felt two days ago? The annoyance surfacing within him is the equivalent of ants crawling in his bloodstream, air he exhales through his nose in the same fashion that a bull about to charge would. This isn’t the time for this, not at all, but it seems your talent is finding a way under his impenetrable skin. He reminds himself to maintain his steady breathing and his impassive expression as you rise taller to evade your disbelieving laughter.

“My apologies, you have a noble profession, but I’m sorry, you’re going to have to find someone else.” Your reply is what he feared would happen. Humans are riddled with emotions and they’re not always positive. He made a bad first impression and now anything he could say would only exacerbate the situation. By your reaction, you’re not taking him seriously and you won’t take him seriously even if he explains the direness of the situation. He already hates disclosing too much to anyone, this was a dud of a visit. If he thought it would get better results, he would have stopped by as soon as he made his discovery yesterday. His options ran too low and he’s reached yet another dead end.

“Fine. I’ll speak to another seamstress, maybe a tailor. Thank you.” He slightly bows at the hip, but it’s barely a motion since he’s aggravated on the inside. The puzzle will be in pieces longer until he can get to his next lead/clue and this just proves he can’t rely on anyone but himself. He pivots away from you before you could respond, before you could say anything else that would inevitably rub him the wrong way. It does little to achieve the desired effect because he hears “Good luck finding one that could think” followed by a shutting door on his way to the staircase.

#henry cavill #enola holmes #sherlock holmes #henry!sherlock #sherlock holmes x reader #enemies to lovers #beyond answers #consequences and a lead #l4l.writes

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josiesullysblog · 1 year

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Don’t Underestimate Me.

~AGED UP Neteyam x reader

~Explict content, Neteyam is 22, reader is 21.

~Proofread?~yes

~Summary-You were always extremely close with Kiri. Growing up so close with the girl you were bound to meet her family. You always believed Neteyam to be so uptight and boring, you were so very wrong.

***

The night had started like any other night. You and Kiri often snuck out to hang out around the “spot.” Only kids around your age went, and no adults were allowed. A great place to cool off, and talk with friends after a long week.

You had just arrived with the girl, laughing, when you noticed the boy. Your eyes lingered on him, blatantly eye-fucking him. You would admit, you found the boy super attractive. You unconsciously fixed your hair as you walked to take your seat near him. His eyes were the first thing to drag you in, a sort of mystery, something many people miss at first glance. I mean, he was your best friend’s older brother, he was never at the spot, and always off doing some training with his father. He was next in line so much to live up to, yet your mind and body still wanted him.

The boy licked his lips, and a wish fell in your mind that it was your mouth he was licking. You were sure the boy had no experience with women. He was too busy with his duties, watching his siblings, and being the perfect son to be dealing with such things. Soon, you were to find out how wrong you were. You often imagined how it feels being his first time, his mate. How it would feel to be swollen with his child. Your mind was ahead of your body because as of right now, he believes you were nothing but his sister’s friend. And you were dying to change that.

You noticed the cup he held in his hand, you slowly made your way to him, watching him carefully. You gave a small smile as you sat next to him, “what are you drinking?” his eyes scanned your body, giving you a boost of confidence. “Nothing a little girl like you should be drinking,” you chuckled out loud, “there are no adults out here, give me a sip.” you had already assumed he would say no, as you watched him bring the cup to his mouth. His hands found their way to the back of your neck as he titled you back ever so slightly, “open for me,” to which you gladly did.

The drink burned the back of your throat as you took the drink in. With his hand on your neck and his breath almost fanning your face, you clenched your legs tight. You feared he or some other male would smell the scent of arousal that left your legs. Neteyam was no stranger to the smell that engulfed you two, just by your body language he knew where your mind was. He was willing to do anything to you, but he just had to be sure.

He brought his mouth close to your ear, “I see the way you clench, do you want me to fuck you?” his words caused your heart to speed up, “teyem,” you called him out by nickname causing a smile, “such a dirty girl.” your attraction had been found out, but he didn't push you away in disgust or politely decline your advances, he indulged in the way your body called out for him. His eyes called out for more. You had been the one making advances, the roles completely switch as a dominant energy waved off the boy.

“Sage we are heading back now!” Kiri’s words rang reminding you of your current state. “Sage said she’ll stay back and clean with me, right?” Neteyam said as he removed his hand from behind you, “yea I’ll catch up with you later,” you turned and smiled at the girl, “alright!” she smiled back before leaving with the group.

Still turned as you watched everyone else leave, you felt a hand find its place around your neck, this time with a stronger grip. Out of reflex, your hand grabbed the larger hand causing Neteyam to coo at you, “you're just so pretty.” His other hand trailed down your body looking for somewhere to stop, he let go of your neck manhandling you to your knees. “You're a good girl, right?” you nodded your head looking at the bulge under his loincloth, “I’ll do whatever you want,” he smiled at your words taking his loincloth off and showing off the hard cock he had hidden.

You take the cock in your hand, rubbing up and down attempting to fit in your mouth. Before you could even lick the tip, he put his hand on your chin. “Open wide,” he shoved fingers in your mouth, “so ready aren't you?” you nodded as you sucked his fingers. He grabbed the cock, which was dripping in precum, and brought it to your mouth. You gladly let him control your head, as he played with you as if you were some disposal toy.

His moans echoed in the air, making you even wetter, “shit, Sage,” you slowly found yourself dragging your hand to your lower parts, rubbing the clit lightly. “Aw, are you that desperate? You can’t even wait for me to finish?” his words turned you on as he made your head go faster. His moans became high-pitched as his load fell in your mouth. “Don't waste a single drop,” following his orders you swallowed the whole thing, showing your tongue off as proof.

He pushes you softly into the grass, bringing his head down to your legs,“ so wet, just for me,” he smiled before digging his fingers deep into you, a loud moan echoing. He watched your lips as drool fell from them, you were too far gone to notice anyway. The pleasure continued as his pace sped up, “I’m gonna cum, Neteyam!”

He smirked at you, slowly taking his fingers out, causing you to whine, “no, please let me-,” he cut you off with a kiss. You returned it attempting to drag his hand back, he broke the kiss, “oh, baby you didn't think it was that easy, did you? I’ll let you come when I want, whenever I want. You are mine now.”

His words, in any sane person, would cause fear, but for you, it caused a small heartbeat in between your legs. “I wouldn't want anybody else,” you said smiling at him, “but you are gonna let me cum.” you assumed your words would make him return to in between your legs, but they only made him smile and walk off.

You followed behind the boy, screaming his name. But to him, this was only the first part eventually you would become his perfect toy.

***

Ya’ll I’ve had a lot of free time this week to write!! I was your comments from my last story, and I’ll definitely try and make a second part!! Hope you all enjoy this one!

#avatar way of water #neteyam #jake sully #avatar #avatar loak #avatar neytiri #neteyam x y/n #avatar smut #neteyam smut #loak x reader #neytiri

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katnisspeetaprim · 1 year

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BTS Reaction A photographer Tries To Photograph Under Your Skirt (Maknae Line)

BTS Reaction; A Photographer Tries To Look Up Your Skirt

Hyung Line Here!

Masterlist

Warnings: Female reader (character wears a skirt) being in an uncomfortable situation, creepy guy with camera.

If you guys have any rrequests of reactions for me then please let me know! I want to practice my writing as much as possible and would love some prompts!

You and your group mates were currently at an awards show, sitting in the audience surrounded by many other idol groups.

You loved your stylist you really did however, you had once again been given a too short skirt and safety shorts to wear.

The rest of your group got to wear shorts or at the very least longer skirts to these type of events, it’s always you who draws the short straw. As you sat with your group you realised that there was nothing to cover up with, like a pillow or a blanket, so you decided on just staying as still as possible and strategically placing your hands together in your lap.

Park Jimin

You were extremely conscious of the fact that pretty much all of your legs were on show, due to the fact that a particular photographer was getting a little too confident with his camera angles. You tried your best to turn at an angle so he wouldn’t see anything, but that only caused you to display more thigh instead.

BTS were sat behind you in the venue, so from Jimin’s position he could see you fidgeting about uncomfortable while keeping your eye on the man in front of you. Jimin’s eyes widened when he realised what the man was trying to do, so he quickly started looking around for something for you to use.

Once he found something suitable he was scurrying towards you and you for one, had never been so relieved to see a pillow before! You took it with a grateful smile and a bow of your head, before he quietly leaned in to ask if you were ok or needed him to do anything else.

Kim Taehyung

You caught Taehyung’s eye when you stood up suddenly from your seat to quietly excuse yourself. There was something wrong with the shorts under your skirt because of course there was, and you didn’t have time to run to the bathroom so you tried to find somewhere a little secluded at the side of the seats to fix yourself. You ended up standing near to were BTS were seated.

Tae noticed as you fiddled with your outfit that you were unintentionally showing off more than you probably (definitely) meant to. It was at this moment that he spotted a bold photographer, not so subtly making his way over towards you, camera at a low angle facing up.

Without a second thought, Tae got up and made his way over to you, to place himself between you and the guy. The guy couldn’t help but pull a disgruntled face at Taehyung as he obstructed his view, all the while Tae had a calm but also hard look on his face as he kept eye contact with the photographer, not backing down. He wasn’t about to be intimidated by a low life such as this creep.

Once you finished fixing yourself you were blushing mess at having been caught in such a predicament, but made sure to thank Tae profusely for protecting you the way that he did. Tae of course ever the gentleman, made sure that you got back to your seat with no further issues.

Jeon Jungkook

Your group had just won an award and were on your way back to your seats , when Jungkook noticed a man below the stage pointing his camera up at you as you walked by. Obviously you were too busy celebrating your win to notice the invasion of your privacy, but Jungkook saw and he was certain that the creep now had an inappropriate photo of you.

Jungkook didn’t really know what to do in that moment, had the guy been doing that all night to other idols or just to you? The thought sickened him that somebody like that got into this place.

Calling over the steward in charge of caring for the idols that night was all he could really think to do, at least then he could point the guy out and get him dealt with, so he did just that.

He let out a sigh of relief when just a few short moments later, the photographer was escorted out after having his camera confiscated.

Jungkook knew that you hadn’t noticed the photo being taken, and he didn’t plan on telling you right then and there either, not wanting to spoil your night. He was sure your manager would tell you once they heard the news anyway.

Once the show was over, Jungkook headed backstage hoping to find you but all he found was your manager who gladly gave him your number.

He would be calling you the next day to make sure that you were ok and to also congratulate you on your win!

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dreamcaught · 7 months

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There have been so many of these posts, and what looks like an entire website pretty much dedicated to this topic, but nevertheless here I am adding to the mix.

Thoughts on Buffy Season 6, Sex and Seeing Red

This is long and only kind of edited. Content warning below.

CW: Discussions of abuse, addiction, and rape.

Let me just start out by saying: Spike is my favourite character in Buffy. I love him completely. He is contrary and interesting and if there is anything I would do to improve the show it would be to add more scenes with Spike. But, unlike a lot of Spike girlies – and especially many of my favourite fanon creators – I don’t think Spike is out-of-character in Seeing Red. There are some serious problems with it, but I think it’s an important scene.

My reason for saying this comes from the claim that Buffy and Willow are the main villains this season. Well, no, to be fair: in season 6, the main villains of the show are the internal villains within the characters, specifically Buffy and Willow, expressed through their actions of addiction and abuse. The Trio is a red herring Big Bad; they’re pretty much just there to provide laughs and move plot. They’re not like the Master, or Angelus, or Adam, or Glory – there isn’t ever a “gather the troops, we’ve got an apocalypse on our hands” attitude toward defeating them… because they’re just human people, making human mistakes and causing human havoc. (Much like how Buffy and Willow would be if they weren’t already saturated in the supernatural.)

Buffy and Willow’s stories run parallel in this season. They are both dealing with the aftermath of Buffy’s resurrection: Buffy is majorly depressed to the point that she feels essentially soulless, whereas Willow is guilty to such degree that the only way she knows how to cope with herself is through control and the overuse of magic.

Tangent about Sex Because That’s How I Roll:

Before we go further to discuss this, just, briefly, let’s take note that this show does not do justice to sex. In both cases, Buffy and Willow’s “addiction” is to, essentially, use sex like a drug to (sort of) feel, but more accurately numb themselves. Buffy’s use of Spike is blatant, but we must remember that Willow and Tara’s first prominent romantic/sexual connections were initially all linked to their use of magic.

It’s made clear that this idea of magic = sex between the two is continued even in season 6, as exemplified in the Once More with Feeling song Under Your Spell lines: “You make me complete,” which are cut off at the most deliciously appropriate time – and if you haven’t noticed that until I’ve pointed it out here, then well done, you!

Here there is a bit of a problem I have with the show’s messaging because it’s essentially saying that sex is bad. Tara asks Willow to stop using magic (yikes, imagine asking your lover to please stop sexing so much, babe, it’s bad for you) – and at the same time, in the parallel story, Buffy feels the need to hide her sexual tryst with Spike because it’s wrong to want to feel good.

I think it’s important to note that Buffy isn’t really upset about it being Spike, specifically. She makes a big deal of saying that he’s “everything she’s supposed to hate” and “soulless” and “evil,” but Buffy had every opportunity to have this affair with literally anyone else – in fact, she could have very easily gotten her rocks off with a different, random person every night, but chooses to use Spike. And here we can move back to the main points –

Miscommunication

Buffy and Spike’s relationship is abusive, but hardly for the reasons they make it appear on the show. At this point, Spike is a soulless demon. That he doesn’t just kill her as soon as he realizes that he can hurt her is a testament to how much he loves her, despite this. But, because he is a soulless demon, he does try to take advantage of Buffy’s attention to him by trying to convince her that she should be with him. He plays on her fears of being soulless/evil/demonic. Other than trying to persuade her to stay with him, this is the full extent of Spike’s abuse of Buffy.

At no point in their physical relationship does Spike ever abuse Buffy’s consent.

Between Spike and Buffy is a travesty of miscommunication. Need I say again: Spike is a soulless demon. From the moment he realizes his feelings toward Buffy, he is constantly trying to figure out what she needs from him, because he simply does not understand. (“What’s it take?”) He actively tries to learn what Buffy wants and how to respond to her desires. From their passionate kiss in Once More with Feeling: “The day you suss out what you do want, there'll probably be a parade,” to literally his last lines of the show, “No, you don’t,” Buffy and Spike’s communication is the worst!

And this is all Buffy’s fault, by the way! She absolutely, stubbornly, resolutely refuses to talk – to most people! It’s practically a miracle that Spike understands Buffy at all – and to that end, I truly, fully, completely believe that Spike is the best partner for Buffy, simply because he’s the only one who does.

Their first time together, Buffy is verbally telling him it’s never going to happen while at the same time ripping off his clothes. At nearly every encounter between them during their affair, Buffy says it will never happen again, it will be the last time, it was the worst thing ever. These are outright lies, and Spike learns through conditioning to see right through them. When she says “Stop,” he doesn’t have to stop – because that is not what she means. He learns through the complicated, complex, contrary Buffy Talk what she actually wants and then proceeds to give it to her.

Up to Seeing Red, Buffy’s consent has always sounded like: “No.”

Buffy the Villain

Buffy has chosen Spike as her lover because he already loves her. He is emotionally invested in their relationship. He takes care of her. (“I can get money.”) She can be herself with him. (“I can be alone with you here.”) She is safe with him. (“Dawn is safe with Spike, so I can stay as long as you need.”)

During their affair, Buffy takes everything that she’s feeling about herself out on Spike. She calls him soulless, she calls him nothing, she says he’s empty; she beats him up, she kicks him out, she refuses his affection and forces him to hide his own. Spike takes it because he is loyal and in love with her, and this is the extent that Buffy abuses him. She conditions him to think that she can’t love him, she conditions him to think that saying “No” means “Yes,” she conditions him to think that her abuse of him is kinky and will lead to sex.

Buffy’s goal is only to feel something. She wants Spike to take advantage because it makes things a lot easier for her to deal with. If she says “No,” that means that she’s tried to stop him, despite it not being what she really wants or expects of him.

Because of this abuse, in a very real way, Buffy is the one who destroys the safety that Spike represented. Her abuse of him corrodes their trust, but she doesn’t know that. Buffy, despite denying it or acknowledging it, still believes in Spike’s loyalty. And not only that – by this point, Buffy has fallen in love with him. The bathroom scene in Seeing Red happens, in part, because she’s pushed Spike too far – and she’s not ready to admit to anything, because she refuses to acknowledge that she was an abuser.

The events of Seeing Red are the culmination of Buffy’s actions with the complete absence of honest communication. It is because she tells Spike to move on that he sleeps with Anya. It is because she expected his loyalty that Dawn talks to Spike. It’s because she trained Spike to do the opposite of what she says that he tries to connect with her physically to make her happy.

It is because she refuses to acknowledge not only her abuse of him, but also her love for him, that he chooses to show her instead. Because Buffy doesn’t talk – she only acts, and that’s what Spike tries to do, in the way that she taught him – from the start of their affair to the explicit events in Gone, all the way to this scene, Buffy has told Spike that sex is how to get close to her.

The Bathroom Scene

A lot of people have been traumatized by this scene. It is very difficult to watch, since we’ve got these two beautifully complicated people trying so hard to communicate and failing so badly at it. Buffy, finally, is saying what she means, but Spike can’t hear it. Spike is, as he’s been taught to do, servicing her to show her his devotion. These two people are in love with each other but are deeply hurt. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that Buffy is hurt by Spike’s actions while he’s hurt by her words, since these are the languages they understand.

If done well, this scene could have been healing. They could have finally come together in grief of their broken relationship and tried to fix it to something healthier. But instead, they were using the scene to push Spike into getting a soul, so he had to go too far, and she had to say too much.

I don’t think that Spike is out of character. I think that both Spike and Buffy act exactly within their character consistencies. Spike would totally seek Buffy out if he thought she was hurting – especially if he had any hope at all that he was the cause of her hurt. Buffy would completely deny, deny, deny any emotional attachment to Spike and take no responsibility for having hurt him. She’s still stuck, here, projecting her own numbness onto Spike with the false idea that he can’t love because he’s soulless.

Because of the constant, completely screwed up ideologies within this show about sex (that sex is bad, that too much sex is bad, that kinky sex is wrong, etc.) and because of the cumulative events that arise from their abusive sex=closeness relationship, the only way they could think of to make it even worse was to escalate to rape.

I know why they did it, because it makes sense within the story of their physical affair. It’s The Worst Thing you can do to someone else. We have to remember that Buffy doesn’t care about being killed, because she sort of wants to die. Also, Spike would never want to kill her. The only other thing he might want to do is turn her, but, to Buffy, that’s the same thing as being killed. Since her belief is that a demon takes over the human host, she might even welcome being turned as much as she would welcome death.

But importantly: there is the significant and completely intentional reverse of their villainousness actions here. In this scene, Buffy can’t be the villain anymore. It doesn’t matter how much she’s abused Spike, it doesn’t matter that their relationship was murky and confusing. Because it is rape, the only villain is the person committing the act of rape.

Spike must be made the villain here because anything else is victim blaming. It was the only action the writers could take to give the title of villain back to Spike away from Buffy. Spike has to end this season being the Big Bad because he must absorb all the hurt, the pain and the soullessness that was entangled with Buffy and incorporate it into himself (“You think I like having you in here? Destroying everything that was me, until all that's left is you, in a dead shell. You say you hate it, but you won't leave.”)

He takes Buffy’s pain and heals them both by – after these events – getting his soul.

The Problem

The writing staff knew their characters (for the most part). They knew that Spike was soulless and needed something drastic to instigate his search of a soul. Hurting Buffy this way did make the most sense in the framework of their affair and in the framework of making sex akin to drugs. But attempted rape was too, too far for the viewers. Talking about sex is already difficult for society, especially at the time this show was made. Talking about and explicitly showing attempted rape caused trauma to viewers and made a lot of people turn away from the otherwise very beautifully complicated relationship between Buffy and Spike.

People against Spuffy use this scene as the ultimate fodder against Spike, but doing so is disrespectful to the story, the lore and the characters. Spike loved Buffy enough soulless, but she was only strong enough to accept that once he went out and got one. In addition to that – Buffy forgives Spike for what he did that day. She admits to her side of the abuse, acknowledges that what they had was real, and doesn’t blame Spike for his actions. This conversation exists in bits-and-pieces in the Buffy comics – it would have been incredible to see it on screen in season 7, but I guess by that point the writers didn’t want to bring it up again and had way too many other things to deal with (which is another topic altogether).

I like the bathroom scene in Seeing Red. I think it’s horrible, and raw, and terribly authentic. The portrayal of hurt and betrayal by both actors is one of the strongest scenes in the show. I do wish, though, that they hadn’t taken it quite so far.

My Problem

Season 6 of Buffy is my favourite season. It is powerful and painful. But, if I could change it, I would have changed the messaging that sex is bad, because it isn’t, and both Spike/Buffy and Willow/Tara deserved something better.

#btvs #btvs meta #long post #spuffy #sex in btvs #seeing red

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