#it’s not that I don’t feel like drawing my brain just doesn’t let me do things
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Would you ever write about Carmy and cum play? I just feel like he would be sooooo into it
no, no, no, this has been haunting me for so, so long! like, he would be more than into it. you have no idea the monster you let out in me while i was writing this!!! i hope you like it, love~
o.s. it's more like a fascination
summary: getting a glimpse into one of carmen's obsessive infatuations passionate fascinations (carmen berzatto x afab!reader)
reflection: this one... this one had me blushing. it kind of gave me brain rot. would be completing a task, and boom, thinking about carmy and his stupid oral fixation. this has to be one of my raunchiest fics yet. thank you, anon, for inspiring such an intense writing experience for me. i fear i will never be the same again. as always, feedback is appreciated! please enjoy!
warnings: no condoms (wrap it, tap it, you get it), cumplay (it's everywhere), marking, pussydrunk!carmen (he's obsessed, basically), fingering, cunnilingus, implied blowjob, somewhat dom!carmen, begging, dirty talk, cursing, p in v sex, longwinded descriptions, body worship, carmen's pov, spit, filth, cum eating (carmy is doing the most), multiple orgasms, lots of licking, no use of pronouns, (please let me know if there are other warnings i need to add)
word count: 1,989
( this work has been cross-posted to ao3 )
Carmen hates condoms. It’s not in the typical, cliche type of hatred that most men have. If you’re uncomfortable, he won’t insist. However, you’re more likely to encourage it. He prefers to be as closely bonded to you as possible, no rubber in his way, able to feel the squelch of every glide and the crushing pressure of your walls wrapped around his pulsing cock. The fever you stew him in. A condom doesn’t do that for him. Not in the same way. You’re far more sensitive without it, clenching your eyes shut, heaving pleasured breaths up against his shoulder you previously gnawed into for composure. That, or the depletion of his, he could never tell with how you flip between being all passive and docile to motivating his rough manhandling, ultimately placing you in charge and in control while he follows instinctual need.
He cherishes the moments where he pulls out and his cum spurts from his tip over your lower stomach, the milky and pearly substance just under your navel, seeping towards your pelvis. It’s lewd. A waterfall waiting to happen. His eyes blink hard as if they’re taking a mental snapshot. You’re delectable like this, chest rising and falling as your open legs tremble. Sometimes, there’s so much of his load to bear that it slides down your inner thighs, liquid opal skimming the cute button he’s teased with his digits and tongue earlier (as if it couldn’t get any fucking prettier), and into whomever’s bedsheets you’re both using for the time being. You look debauched, dazed, and proud to be marked as his.
Your tits make for just-a-great-a canvas, he’s found. If he props himself above your abdomen, one knee at the side of you, his foot drawing up at the other until his leg is at a right angle, his tip always lines itself at the inception of the valley between your breasts. He cautiously focuses his aim to paint your cleavage while resisting the urge to stripe your neck and chin, earnestly observing slack-jawed as some dribbles over your nipples. Would you judge him if he sucked his cum off while tonguing around your areola as a dual effort of cleaning his mess and pebbling your nipple to frenetic attention? The uncontrollable sounds of pleasure petting his eardrums don’t signify negative judgment, but Carmen wouldn’t be Carmen without believing in his self-doubt. And you, you fucking angel, you wouldn’t be you if you didn’t chase and stomp that out until its light dimmed. Sometimes that comes through words of reassurance and patience and other times it’s as simple as your howl of his name or your digits tugging his unkempt hair further into its tumultuous state.
It’s not uncommon for Carmen to see his cum pooling in your mouth, either. He likes the way it rests on your tongue when you stick it out to show him, the challenge he issues being in maintaining a drop doesn’t fall in your performance. But, although his habits are organized and pristine and he has concerning tendencies relating to an undiagnosed compulsive disorder, he particularly enjoys watching when it’s too much for you, when it’s sliding down your usually swollen (the result of sucking him off) lips and rounding down your chin. That’s more rare since you seldom let anything escape, the tip of your tongue catching him and drinking him back in.
“Get it all? Let me help you,” he says gruffly, applying the pad of his thumb to your face to scoop the rebelling stream into your mouth where it came from. The plus is the feeling of your approving humming vibrating on his flesh and your spongy taste buds licking along the indents of his thumb after.
His real favorite spot to finish is inside of you. Now, now, it’s risky for obvious reasons, but you’ve discussed birth control and there are rounds where you’re fucking begging him to and he’s not going to deny you, being the generous lover that he is who selfishly wants to pipe your cunt until it’s leaking. No, he’s unresisting to the way your legs wind around him and pull him in deeper, sloppily humping up into you and rutting and grinding until he’s gasping and flooding and drowning you both in stickiness. He rocks until the end, stilling above you as he’s throbbing and trying to regain a grip on himself. What have you done to him?
That’s how Carmen has you at the moment. Your legs unwrap from his waist and flop into the bed, and eventually, he retracts inch by inch, his ridges catching. He likes to extend his time inside of you, likes to live in the present instead of his head when you’re folded up like this. It’s a shame you’ve made him so sensitive. He wants to fuck his cum right back into you, but he requires a recovery period male anatomy failed him in. Your eyes flutter open in sensation as he finally slips out, closing after as you take the time to calm yourself and your body down from the high he’s propelled you into. He notices the way your face scrunches in discomfort, legs presumably sore from being corralled around his hips for too long. Carmen’s hands massage your thighs, promoting the feeling back within them by kneading the supple flesh there and lifting them into peaking mountains, heels on the mattress. It gives him the best view of his bidding, of the extra cream beading out of you, down to the crevice of your cheeks.
“Carmen,” your fucked out voice breaks him of the hypnosis he fell into. This can’t be all that pleasant for you, the seed of him drooling out of you while he holds up your thighs you’re not holding up on your own for a good reason. He’s aware of what you’re thinking. He’s aware of how you’re wondering how the hell he has more to give when you’ve got close to nothing left.
“I know, I know, I know,” his lips graze over your kneecap, toned stomach flexing while he shifts himself onto it. The next time you look into Carmen’s eyes, your thighs are framing either side of his head. His arms curl around them, and they end up over his shoulders, fingers drumming along your skin unprompted. It’s because he likes it when you lose yourself and wind up hugging his ears with your thighs. The downside is listening to the tune of those moans swathed up, but the upside is the heightened sense of touch it accords him. The noises you release vibrate all over your body, reverberating like the walls of a temple undergoing an earthquake while a beautiful harp dazzles it in devastating harmonic trills of its column strings. Or… in other words.
Your clit ripples with it on his tongue. What good is hearing you moan when he can feel it in his mouth through your pussy? What the fuck were those toothbrushes that played the music called? Whatever, it’s similar to that and it’s a pleasurable perk of living the human experience with you, if he had to name one off the top of his head. A nice dinner with you with some trashy television is another, but he’ll compile a list later. He’s busy staring at your sodden hole, intending to create more of a capacious mess than he already has. He means both of that gift between your legs and of you entirely.
Carmen laps beneath your twitching hole, capturing the glissading cum before it can fall further into the crevice where your ass begins. He tongues that sensitive area to make sure he gets it all, gliding the flat of the organ upwards and gulping its catch into his mouth. You’re trembling, and there you go, moaning out into the air. Carmen repeats the action until you’re no longer leaking, until the only cum left on you is still inside. He sinks his middle finger knuckle deep into you, checking to make sure of that fact, as if his cock didn’t guarantee it when he drove in deep to saturate and caulk you up, and yes, you’re tender and fucking heated and dewy around his finger as you grasp him tight and moan in a mix of surprise and overwhelming pleasure. He pumps and coils his middle finger, fucking that cum back up into you where it belongs, doing his best to locate that spongey spot you love so much to lubricate it with him, further claiming you from the inside out, all while he simultaneously peppers kisses around your outer lips.
“More, Carmy, more, please,” you say, and fuck, it’s like you know you’re going to get anything and everything from him in the entire world if he’s able. He ends the loneliness of his middle finger by adding in a second, his index joining into the fray. His middle finger is longer, but clumsier, doesn’t create as good a rhythm as his index does. It’s a true sentiment, further proven by how you arch suddenly and your thighs attach to his ears like magnets. Yeah, he found the spot, almost the very second his index finger navigated into your warmth. It’s a homing beacon.
He leans his head up. He didn’t swallow the cum he licked off you yet. He’s let the heat of his mouth warm it up, saliva pool in his cheeks with it, and abruptly, his lips part, spitting the combination over your clit in a glob that causes your hips to raise off the mattress, pelvic bone dangerously close to breaking his nose. The one hand on your thigh brings you back to earth for him, his fingers continuing the rubbing motion that’s got you whimpering sounds he selfishly wants louder. It’s not as pearly as it once was dribbling out of your slit, but it’s still a gratifying sight for him, and the lamp at bedside catches the remnants of the viscous substance splitting apart from his saliva. It’s like oil and water. Cum and spit. All lovingly blanketing your clit and seeping down where his fingers are taking care of you. And fuck, he can’t resist it, he knows what the fuck it’s gonna make him look like, but if you don’t judge him for splashing your tits and stomach with his seed, or kissing you deeply on the mouth to share it when you’ve just given him the crassest head, then he’s not going to hesitate any longer.
Carmen drops his mouth, licking it all back up. He prioritizes stimulating your clit with his tongue, but he’s not going to lie, he’s drinking it all back in. His cum, his spit, your wet arousal slick over his fingers and knuckles. He’s got you where he needs you, withdrawing yet another orgasm from your body that rocks you. He allows the gentle humping of your hips as you ride out that high, never slowing his fingers, bathing your clit with his lips and tongue for as long as you need it, and for as long as it tastes good. So… you have to brush a hand over the side of his face because to him, it never stops tasting good.
“Fuck, sorry. Too much?” He breathes. He kisses your inner thighs while you nod, dazed out and breathing heavily. Your chest falls and rises, breasts jostling in the action. Carmen continues to kiss your skin, slipping his fingers out slowly. You shiver, and your legs fall once more now that they’re not in his stronghold.
This is the other side. You’re spent. You can barely move. All you can do right now at this moment is watch Carmen sit back on his knees above you, observe as he drags his tongue over his digits, licking them unsullied. Because, sure, he’s got a huge thing for cumplay, but he’s also addicted to how yours tastes.
#l4l.writes#carmy berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto x reader#the bear fic#carmy x reader#carmen berzatto#it's more like a fascination#l4l.oneshot#phewwww
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can you please write an imagine where y/n is hongjoong's childhood friend and when they grew up, she ended falling in love with san, because she thinks hongjoong only sees her as his “young sister”, but he gets really jealous and upset seeing her happy without him. 😭
(sorry my bad english, not my native language)
Okkk literally obsessed with this concept omg. Possessive/jealous Hongjoong is one of my fav things ever hehe. Thank you for requesting!!
Look at my heart
Pairing: Hongjoong x fem!reader ft. San
Genre: angst, fluff
Word count: 1.5k
Networks: @newworldnet
“What do you think of San?”
Hongjoong looks up with alarm, his position on your beat up couch stiffening. His voice gets caught in his throat for a second, not exactly knowing what to say. He blinks the daze away and makes hesitant eye contact with you.
“What do you mean Y/n? I barely know him.” He answers timidly.
You know San from your chemistry class that you share with Hongjoong. He sits across the room, and your only opportunity to interact with him is in group projects, which you’re grateful for. San, from what you can tell, is a very passionate and loving person. He loves getting to know people and dedicating his whole self to the people he loves. There’s some kind of spark about him that draws you to him, but you can’t help but needing Hongjoong’s approval.
You and Hongjoong have been best friends for almost your whole life. Your families were very close, so close to the point his parents were practically your parents. You have had countless experiences with him, solidifying your trust and bond with the man. Recently though, you’ve noticed a shift. You can’t figure out what it is though, no matter how hard you try.
“I think I might be interested in San.” You say quietly, as if you’re worried about scaring Hongjoong away.
“I-I mean, I don’t think my opinion really matters Y/n. If you like him, then I’d say go for it!.” He shows you a toothy smile, but not the Hongjoong smile you’re used to. It doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
“I just thought I’d ask.” You speak a little too brightly, determined to break the building tension. You let out an awkward laugh and Hongjoong follows you, resulting in a stiff silence right after. Before you can move, Hongjoong beats you to it, declaring that he has plans to attend to, and leaves your apartment leaving you conflicted and confused.
———
The following day as you see him in class, he seems closed off, headphones on and mind in a daze. You decide approaching him isn’t the best option currently, opting to give him space by sitting at a different table. Coincidentally, the table ends up being where San is sitting, chipper as ever.
“Hi Y/n! I’m so glad you get to sit with me today!” He explains excitedly.
The pure joy in his face makes you smile despite the fact that your brain is facing immense turmoil. “I decided to sit somewhere new for a change!” You beam at him. He leans in close to you, and whispers.
“Did you and your boyfriend have a fight?”
Your body freezes and your mouth opens, not sure what to say. For some reason, your breathing quickens, and your nervous system feels attacked.
“He-he’s not my boyfriend. Why would you think that?” You ask cautiously.
“Have you seen the way he looks at you? Plus he also acts like your bodyguard, staring daggers at anyone who dares to approach you. He’s the main reason I haven’t made a move on you yet.” He shrugs nonchalantly, while your body is internally screaming, trying to process the information.
“You…wanted to make a move on me?”
He tilts his head slightly and holds your eyes meaningfully. “Absolutely. I think I would be crazy not to.” He winks playfully and you can’t help but blush. At that moment, you hear a loud chair scraping noise, and look back just in time to see Hongjoong’s agitated retreating form.
You try to ignore it, convincing yourself that he needs space. So you force yourself to turn back to the sunny face of San, and brace yourself for your words.
“San, will you go out with me?”
———
You start going out with San regularly, thoroughly enjoying your time with him. The conflict with Hongjoong has been pushed to the back of your mind, choosing to ignore it in order to not go crazy. You decide that if he wanted to, he would tell you if something was wrong.
You stopped sitting with him in class, a deep fear within that your connection has been severed, and not wanting to bear the consequences. Even though you’re not sure if you did something wrong, you can’t help but feel some kind of guilt deep down.
Due to this guilt, you eventually find yourself waiting in front of Hongjoong’s apartment. You’ve been standing there for at least five minutes, nervously debating whether to stay or leave. Finally, as you raise your knuckles to knock, the door opens abruptly, leaving you startled and like a deer in headlights.
“Y/n you might as well come in. It’s cold outside.” He sighs heavily and lets you in, trailing behind your small form. As you look at his stoic face, you can’t help but tear up, desperately needing to feel the warmth of your best friend.
“I’m sorry,” you say with a sniffle. “I’m sorry for whatever I’ve done to cause this rift between us. All I wanna do is get us back.”
“I don’t.”
“What?” You look up with wide eyes, his face not having changed in the slightest.
“I’m sick of feeling like this, constantly having to bottle up my true feelings, and for what? To just be substituted?” He speaks with a quiet anger, voice barely above a whisper, but you feel as you’re being hit with sharp icicles.
“Hongjoong, I don’t understand-”
“Of course you don’t,” he lets out a bitter laugh, eyes trained on the carpet. “You don’t understand and you haven’t understood all these years.”
“Understand what? Help me understand.” You plead with misty eyes.
At that moment, your phone lights up, showing San on your screen. Hongjoong notices and he immediately scowls, leaving his chair abruptly. You watch him stomp away and reluctantly pick up your phone.
“San? What’s up?”
“I wanted to see what my favorite girl was up to! What do you think of going on a picnic later in the afternoon?” He asks with excitement laced through his voice.
“San…I’m sorry, but I can’t today. I’ve got some…” you look at up and see Hongjoong at his desk, tapping his foot impatiently. “business to take care of.”
San seems to understand, but still can’t help but be disappointed. You say bye to him and hang up with a heavy sigh.
“Hongjoong, let’s please talk about this.”
He reluctantly stands up, returning to his spot earlier, and stares at you intently. “Do you really not know or are you just pretending?” You furrow your eyebrows and shake your head.
“I genuinely have no idea what’s going on.” You admit.
“Y/n, I can’t pretend anymore. It hurts me, just how much I ache for you. You’re all I think about, constantly, every day. I can’t fathom a life where you’re not in it, but seeing you with San is…it breaks me. I question why you don’t see me the same way you do him. We’re best friends, yes, but what best friend does what I do? Everyone else thinks I’m your boyfriend except you. Why are you so oblivious to my love?” He pours out his heart, voice cracking at the end of his sentence.
You’re stunned by his confession, not exactly sure what to say. All you know is that a fragment of your heart is being healed, being filled with a love you didn’t know you were missing. It feels whole suddenly, as if everything you’ve ever wanted has landed in the palm of your hand. You search his eyes for any signs of a lie, but all you see is raw emotion emanating in waves.
“Hongjoong, I didn’t know you felt this way. To be honest, I didn’t even think it a possibility. I thought that if I were to let myself feel what I felt, I would’ve ruined what we had. I locked that part of myself away, refusing to let it come to the surface. But…” You take a deep breath and continue. “Since you feel the same way, I can be free to feel.”
“Y/n, what are you saying?”
“I’m saying that I love you in the same way. I’ve been so stupid to pretend not to, I’m so sorry. Please forgive me.” As the first tear travels down your face, Hongjoong leaps forward to envelope you in a tight embrace. He cradles your head against his chest as you freely sob, letting out your bottled emotions.
“I’m so s-sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel unwanted.” You hiccup as you speak, emotion overtaking you. “I love you, so so much.”
He holds you even tighter, as if afraid you’ll melt away. “I love you and have always loved you. Why do you think I try to scare off any guy who gets close to you?” You let out a laugh, a thick throaty sound.
“Hongjoong, I feel so stupid. I could’ve had you so much sooner.” You whisper against him.
“It’s alright, you have me now.” He sighs into your hair and mumbles by your ear. “However, it’s my first time seeing you cry this much. What a crybaby.” You look up at him with a glare.
“We never speak of this again, got it?” You ask with a playful threat in your eyes.
“Yes ma’am.” He says with a salute. “Now, I get to have you all to myself.” His mouth quirks up as you bite your lip to hide your big grin.
“Alright mister, let’s catch up on this relationship shall we?”
#ateez#mingtinysworld#ateez fic#ateez x reader#ateez fanfic#ateez scenarios#hongjoong x reader#kim hongjoong#hongjoong fluff#ateez angst
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#so I was reading when twilight strikes cuz u know I got nothing to do other than avoid schoolwork. anyway. I was looking at the fanart#and let me say my brain is not creative when it comes to characters#also the elf half Colombian half elf he speak/ understand Spanish#in my head they a big Shakira fan#also big Karol g fan they would never say it out loud but we all know#we all know#it’s only logical#mi gente latino#lol stop hahahaha#anyway y’all are so creative and draw so well#also romance options would have to be the vampire the best friend the elf#the other two I feel like they don’t have enough development. like n is so nice and I feel like initially we didn’t get much development#with them for me to want to pursue#I’m probably lame tho and didn’t do it correctly#and k just grumpy and doesn’t like human interaction so why torture the kid#idk imma replay imma replay but just know like initially upon seeing k it felt like mc was like wow 🤩 it felt ingenuine idk
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"Still super jealous as hell by the way.“
"Okay, now, can you…get outta my face?“ Steve annoyedly swats a hand at Eddie’s chest and ducks out of his space.
Eddie sighs and shakes his head. "Why are you-" He purses his lips, thinks. "You don’t…you still don’t like me very much, do you?"
At that Steve stops walking, huffs out an annoyed breath and presses his eyes closed. He turns to Eddie, looks at him with an expression Eddie can’t read and says, "No, Eddie. No, I don’t."
Eddie just watches him for a second, not sure what to do, studies his face, the furrow between his brows, the clear discomfort in his expression.
He scoffs. Getting a little angry. "Jesus, man,“ he says. "You just can’t get over it, huh? And here I was rambling on about how you were actually a good dude after all, but…no, turns out Steve Harrington is still just as much stuck in his stupid high school mindset as I would have thought.“
Steve just looks more annoyed now, a slight shift in his eyebrow and…he looks…frustrated? A little? How does that make sense?
"You,“ Steve says, voice low, but not because of the monsters, Eddie knows that much, "are unbelievable.“
Eddie blinks. "What?“
"Eddie, you’re the one who can’t get over it,“ Steve accuses him. "You always talk about that non-conformist shit and how people should just stop with the categories and drawers and labels but, dude, you’ve never judged people that way yourself! I have been saved in your brain as this dumb idiot jock ever since you’ve known me and…“ Steve huffs out an unbelieving breath. "And Eddie, I don’t know what to tell you…but you’ve never been nice to me. Ever. And when Lucas made the basketball team, which is amazing, by the way, you weren’t proud of him or supported him for that incredible achievement like you should have if he’s really one of your 'little sheep‘.“ He draws quotation marks in the air. "You punished him for it. You said you can’t make Hellfire? Fuck you. I’m just gonna have the most important part of the campaign without you, because you know what, you don’t deserve us anymore now that you’ve joined the dark side. Now that you’ve taken up a…a jock game. Because god forbid, somebody could actually ever enjoy playing sports.“
Eddie can’t follow. His mind’s lagging behind, still stuck on Steve apparently knowing DnD terms and saying he was never nice to him and-
Steve takes another step back.
"Eddie, for as long as I can remember you hated me. And yeah, sure, I was stupid and I did some stupid things, but…“ he shrugs one sided. "But I don’t think I deserve to be treated that way. I think I at least deserved a chance. And you never gave me one.“
Eddie blinks. "What do you mean I never gave you a chance, I-"
"Biology, sophomore year,“ Steve interrupts him. "We were assigned lab partners. I tried to really…put all of it aside, tried to get to know you, because actually, Eddie, you know what? I was sort of obsessed with you. Because you were so…loud and so unashamedly yourself, I admired you so much. You didn’t care about anything and you stood up for yourself and that’s something I’ve never been able to do, my whole life. I…“ Steve looks down, sighs a little. "I let people push me around because it’s the only way I feel like I can be of use. But you…you made me believe that maybe actually I…could do it, you know? Like, tell Tommy H. off or something…“ He looks so hurt. Eddie kind of wants to die. "But you…you acted like it was the worst thing ever, getting partnered with me. You didn’t even look at me. You…never gave me a chance, Eddie. So…sorry if one 'you’re actually a good dude, Harrington' doesn’t make me forget all of that, make up for it. Because I’m not so sure I believe you.“
Oh.
Oh no.
Eddie fucked up.
#Steve is so wrong about what made eddie act like that#my boy had a crush#a bad one#steddie#stranger things#steve x eddie#steve harrington#eddie munson
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pairing: alpha!soulmate!jeno x afab!omega!reader
words: 2.9k+
summary: your first meeting with the notorious lee jeno sends you spiraling into heat.
genre: smut
warnings: a/b/o dynamics, knotting, breeding kink, cunnilingus, degradation, mating, some public sex
“You’re coming with me to the Governor’s Ball tonight.”
Your eyebrow raises at Hyewon, who is eagerly sitting across from you, practically jumping out of her seat. The Beta in her is naturally timid, so she must be extremely excited to be acting this way.
“And why would I do that?” You ask, displaying no interest in the event. “It’s just going to be a room filled with rowdy Alphas.”
“That’s why we’re going, duh,” Hyewon says as if you’ve lost a few brain cells. “It won’t just be an event with any regular Alpha — these Alphas will be the most handsome and richest of all!”
Hyewon comes from an affluent family that has an expectation of her to marry wealthy. You know she has been trying for years to pair with any man who has millions in his bank account, yet none of them can match her standards.
You, on the other hand, couldn’t care less about finding an Alpha to mate with. You’ve always envisioned yourself with a calmer Beta, someone who had realistic goals and expectations and wasn’t driven by the feral nature of their genetics. Alphas are known for being possessive and dominant, and it just doesn’t seem like an ideal relationship for you.
“Hyewon, I really don’t think that’s my scene.”
“Come on,” she pouts at you. “Do you know how lucky you are to be an Omega? I would kill to present like you and have every Alpha bend to my whim.”
The statement is slightly exaggerated but not entirely untrue. As an Omega, you do recognize that you have more of a leverage with Alphas as your scent is naturally more alluring to them than a Beta’s. However, you have always opposed the idea that Omegas are solely born to satisfy Alphas. They see you as nothing but a hole to fill and a neck to be marked.
Hyewon clutches to your wrist and pleads loudly, drawing looks from other students lingering in the cafe.
“Please, please, please-“
“Okay!” You huff, withdrawing your hand and looking down bashfully. “Fine, I’ll go with you.”
She throws her arms up and cheers happily.
—
Hyewon wraps you in a stuffy, form fitting dress which is covered head to toe in expensive crystals. She insists you have to shine at the event in order to stand out from all the other Omegas in attendance tonight. Despite your indifference, you let her play dress up as she wants.
She tugs you into the lavish Governor’s Ball, where most of the political leaders of your town are gathered. Hyewon’s eyes lock into the Lee family, the most influential household in werewolf existence.
You don’t know much about the Lee family despite their powerful presence, but Hyewon is quick to fill in the gaps. “That’s Lee Taeyong,” she whispers to you as she points to the stoic man standing across the room. “He’s the oldest, and he’s actually nicer than he looks. The one next to him is the middle child, Lee Mark.” The man she points to has a similar bored expression painting his face, slowly swirling his champagne glass to find a source of amusement. You can tell from the lilt in Hyewon’s voice that he is the Alpha she has her sights set on for the night. “And that guy is the youngest, Lee Jeno. Don’t even try with him, he’s a waste of time.”
Your eyebrows furrow at the Alpha, who appears angrier than any other male in this ballroom. You can practically feel his disdain coursing through your veins.
“Why is he so… grumpy?”
She laughs at your question. “I told you, he’s a waste of time. He’s always pissed off at these events for no reason and hates it when any Beta or Omega tries to make conversation with him. He’s the worst Lee brother to mate with.”
Hyewon soon leaves you to your own devices, heading off to try and win Mark over. You awkwardly make conversation with a few other Omegas around you, but they seem more interested in gathering the attention of the Lee brothers than actually engaging with you.
Midway through the event, you head to the bathroom down the corridor to freshen up. You gasp when you turn the corner and suddenly ram straight into someone’s chest. Your champagne glass falls to the floor and shatters across the marble, but that is the last thing you’re concerned about.
Your body suddenly starts to feel like it’s on fire, heat spreading through your core rapidly. You choke and clutch your stomach, glancing up to see the reason behind your misery.
Jeno stands in front of you, eyes blooming red as he drinks you in. You pant and take a step back from him, recognizing the signs of your approaching heat.
But that can’t be possible — your heat isn’t due to come for another few weeks.
“W-What did y-you do-“ You wheeze, embarrassed by the slick dampening your panties.
“Omega,” Jeno says, stern glare painting his face as he reaches for you. “Calm down.”
His fingers brush by your mating gland and you gasp. His touch feels like someone rubbed a match and lit a fire against your skin. You turn and run as fast as you can, reentering the ballroom and darting straight for Hyewon’s figure. Every Alpha’s head turns at the scent of your growing heat, baring their teeth at your lewd display.
“Hyewon,” you beg, clutching her arm. “You need to take me home.”
“What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
As a Beta, Hyewon can’t smell your growing arousal or detect the signs of you going into your heat. All she sees is her friend with a desperate look on her face. Mark, who is standing across from her, shifts his predatory gaze to you. Hyewon notices the change in him and she quickly pulls you behind her.
“A-Are you going into heat?” She asks quietly.
You nod and whimper. She asks no further questions, wrenching your figure close to hers and locating the nearest exit. She shoves you into the first limousine in the parking lot and shuts the door behind her, shouting your address at the driver.
You grasp her elbow and cry. “Hyewon, this is a strong one-“
A wave of arousal shoots down your spine, causing you to fall deeper and deeper into your subspace. If Hyewon doesn’t lock you in your bedroom soon, you’re afraid you might offer yourself to the first Alpha you see.
“Why didn’t you say you were about to go into heat?” She chastises, grabbing a tissue to dab at your sweltering forehead. “Let me call Jaemin.”
You stop her from taking her phone out of her purse. “N-No, don’t call him. I don’t want him.”
“What? You always use Jaemin for your heats.”
“No,” you shake your head, still unsure of why you’re denying her. She’s right — since your first heat, you have always asked Na Jaemin to come over and take care of you. He was a family friend and never took advantage of you at your worst. However, there’s a sinking feeling in your gut that’s telling you Jaemin is the last Alpha you want to see right now. “Just get me home.”
You barely register Hyewon helping you into your apartment, faintly remembering her guiding you to your bed.
“W-What should I-“
“Please leave,” you say, writhing and desperately pulling at the zipper of your dress to get it off you. “Trust me, you don’t want to see me like this.”
She frowns, her voice filled with concern. “But-“
“Please, Hyewon,” you plead. “Thank you for getting me here but you need to leave.”
You hear the front door close just as you fling your dress to the floor, quickly locating your vibrator in your nightstand. You pull your panties to the side and sigh in relief when you sink the toy into your heat. It only quenches your pain slightly, but it’s enough to simmer down the fire in your belly.
You’re unaware of how much time has passed when there’s another knock at your door. You’re writhing on the bed sheets, begging for another orgasm as your hand has grown tired of lazily pushing your vibrator in and out of your dripping pussy. Your fingers circle your clit slowly as you plead for the moon to end your misery.
You miss the sound of your door rattling off its hinges, mind overtaken by a cloud of fuzziness. Loud stomping echoes throughout your apartment and a large figure invades your room, growling when he sees the sight of you hopelessly twisting your hips to gain any sort of comfort.
A hand wraps around your throat and squeezes, forcing another gush of arousal to leak down your thighs.
“What do you think you’re doing, Omega?” His voice scarily questions, nearly spitting in your face. “How dare you touch what’s mine?”
They used to spread stories of true mates when you were in high school — stories of how when an Alpha meets the destined Omega they were born to be mated with, it would immediately send the Alpha and Omega into their corresponding ruts and heats. You always thought it was some odd wolf propaganda created centuries ago to carry on the belief that true mates still existed. However, as you look at Jeno hovering above you, there is no doubt in your mind that he is your true mate.
The fuzzy parts of your brain start to clear. “J-Jeno?”
He grins, leaning down to lick at the shell of your ear. “That’s Alpha to you. Present yourself.”
You scramble to follow his order, shoving your head into the pillow and arching your ass up in the air. He clicks his tongue mockingly.
“A pretty, submissive Omega. You know, I always wondered what cute little thing I was destined to end up with. I never thought the moon would grant me a beautiful mate like you,” he hums, digits collecting the remnants of your orgasm across your thighs. He groans as he licks the taste of you off his fingers. “You want your Alpha’s knot, baby?”
You nearly unravel at the thought of him filling you deep with his cum, giving you so much of it that it spills out of your tiny pussy.
“A-Alpha,” you whine. “Please Alpha, please knot me.”
You hear the clink of his belt buckle and your body thrums in excitement. He plants his knees down on the mattress, shrugging off his slacks and throwing his stuffy blazer to the side. He ducks his head to lick a stripe up your folds.
You shudder, bunching the sheets in your fists and practically sobbing at the need to have his cock inside of you. You’ve never felt this hopeless during your heat before, never craved another Alpha’s cock like this.
Jeno’s hands tighten around your hips as he laps at your cunt, groaning at the sweetness of your taste. It only takes a few seconds for you to gush into his waiting mouth, the sounds of him eagerly swallowing your release filling the room.
Your body slumps on the mattress at the weight of your orgasm. You barely have time to recover when you feel his tip prodding your entrance.
He growls. “Beg for my cock, Omega whore.”
“Please, Alpha, please fuck me. I want your knot to fill my pretty pussy, want you to mark me and make me yours-“
The thought of you being mated to him is what sends Jeno feral. He pushes his cock inside your waiting hole, slick dripping down your thighs and giving him easy access to slide in. You sigh in relief when he’s finally deep inside you, quelling the fire in your stomach that was pleading for him.
He doesn’t waste time — ramming into you at an inhuman speed, hands angrily digging into your sides and slapping your ass until his palm is imprinted on your backside. Your head lolls to the side, officially giving Jeno complete control to use you as you wish.
Just like with your other heats, your body throws you into climax after climax until the pleasure molds itself into your skin. Jeno is still spitting the most filthy, degrading words at you as his knot slowly approaches.
“Look at you, silly Omega. Offering yourself up to the first Alpha you see. Would you have given this cunt to someone else, hm? Let them take what’s rightfully mine?” At the shake of your head, he smirks. “That’s right. Pretty Omega’s pussy is made only for me. Designed for my knot, designed to breed for my future pups.”
The thought of him impregnating you with the future of the respected Lee line prompts you over the edge again. Jeno hisses and grabs the back of your neck, hoisting you up easily to his chest as you hear the sound of his balls slapping against your cunt forcefully.
“Gonna keep cumming around your Alpha’s cock? Never had a heat like this one before, have you, baby? That’s because the moon has finally brought you to your true mate, and you never have to spend another heat without me again.”
You cry in pleasure at the thought of being able to spend every heat with Jeno. You never minded Jaemin being your heat partner, but this satisfaction and connection is something you’ve never felt with anyone else. You genuinely think you’ll die if you go through another heat without Jeno beside you.
“A-Alpha,” you whimper, steadily holding onto his arm that’s securely wrapped around your middle. “Please knot me, Alpha. You’re the only one who can.”
“Yeah?” He groans at how desperate you sound for him. “Want your Alpha’s big knot? Want to be bred like a good little Omega?”
You nearly sob. “Y-Yes! Yes, please!”
He tilts your head and exposes your neck. His fingers carefully run over your mating gland, causing a shiver to run down your spine.
“And this? Is this for me to mark, Omega?”
You frantically nod. “Yes, Alpha. Only for you.”
You know it’s a big step, a permanent marking that would tie Jeno’s Alpha to your Omega forever. Your mind screams at you to reconsider this decision when you have a clearer head, but your heart tells you that there’s nothing to mull over — Jeno is your Alpha and you need the whole world to know.
As his knot begins to swell inside you, his teeth sink into your mating gland, uniting your souls into one. Every feeling Jeno’s ever had courses through your veins, multiplying your pleasure tenfold. Your thighs begin to shake at the amount of gratification flowing through your body.
You almost pass out from the overwhelming sensation, and your body goes slack in Jeno’s hold. His cum shoots deep into your womb, filling you and marking you as his until his release is leaking down your thighs.
You both collapse on the mattress, with Jeno pulling you close to ensure his knot stays rooted deep inside you.
Your head starts to free from your subspace temporarily, and you carefully scan your room as he licks at the wound on your neck to clean you up.
“Did you- Did you break my door?”
Indeed, you can see your front door laying flat in the hallway, nearly shattered. Jeno hums softly.
“It was in my way.”
You think about how your apartment floor must’ve had to evacuate from the profound smell of your scent mixed with Jeno’s. You would feel guilty about it but considering Jeno has no shame over it, his emotions overpower yours.
“Want to fuck you again, Omega,” he hisses against your skin. “Love being mated to you.”
His honest confession forces another wave of arousal to spill from your pussy, leaking around his knot.
“Yeah, Alpha?”
He grunts and starts thrusting into you again, only being able to move a few inches as his knot is still plugging his cum into you. You gasp and pull him down to kiss you.
“My friend-“ you murmur in between moans. “My friend told me you hate Betas and Omegas.”
“Of course I do,” he hisses, propping your leg over his hip so he can push in deeper. “I hate every Beta and Omega who thinks they have a shot at being my mate.”
“You looked so grumpy when I first saw you.”
“I am grumpy,” he mumbles, hands darting to knead your breasts. “Grumpy for everyone except you.”
He grins when you squirt around his knot, your cunt sensitive from the constant rounds of fucking. Your eyes roll to the back of your head at your unexpected orgasm, body twitching in your Alpha’s hold.
Jeno fucks you until the sun rises to indicate the start of a new day. You two barely sleep, exploring various positions throughout your apartment and even the hallway of your complex, ushering more and more residents on the lower floors to evacuate from your scents. Their dirty looks are quickly changed when they see the notorious Lee brother claiming his new mate for all to see.
His cock doesn’t allow your pussy to rest until he’s sure you’ve been impregnated.
When you finally come to, you’re sprawled on your living room floor with a mix of your slick and Jeno’s cum surrounding you. He continues to lick at your skin as if he’ll die without fully receiving his taste of you.
It’s odd since despite only knowing him for less than a day, you feel like you’ve known him your whole life.
“I want-“ you pant, trying to regain your breath. “I want to fuck you forever.”
He chuckles. “Is that so, Omega?” He raises his head to see you, a predatory gaze lingering in his eyes. You wonder if you have it in you to go another few rounds.
“Lucky for you, we’re mated for life. I’m not going anywhere.”
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can you write a smut fic with mike x reader where he eats you out?? thank you!!
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Eating In (It's good for you)
pairing: mike schmidt x afab!reader
summary: mike is a munch always why would i write anything else???
warnings: 18+!!! NSFW!!! MDI!!! oral sex (f!receving), fingering, squirting (kinda?)
word count: y'all already know 1.3k+
authors note: you guys really speak my language. the beginning of this got a lot fluffier than i was expecting lol still filthy though. 18+ content mdi!!! hope you love it anon mwah <333 also pretty sure i flipped flopped between perspectives sorry babies i'm dumb
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it's no secret that mike lives for eating you out. he could live between your thighs if it was up to him, spending hours drawing out those desperate noises from your lips when he does that thing with his tongue that you love.
the feeling of your hands tugging his hair and your thighs tightening around his head because you just feel so good make his eyes roll back in his head every time he thinks about it.
tonight was no exception, but it was a little different.
as soon as the two of you put abby to bed he was on you. pinning you to his bed as you lazily made out, grinding against each other in slow relaxed motions.
“baby,” mike breathes between kisses, “can you do me a favor?”
you hum in acknowledgement, not wanting to pull away from kissing mike enough to reply.
mike chuckles against your lips, breaking the kiss to nip teasingly at your lips. “i want you to ride my face.” he whispers dirtily, licking a stripe over your lips.
mike watched as his request sinks in, your eyes widening and mouth dropping open just a bit. “mike…” you whisper, he can hear the hesitation in your voice. he can’t have that.
“come on baby, please?” he pleads, moving his hands to rub soft circles into your hips. “you’ll love it, baby. i’ll make it so good for you.”
mike can see the moment your pupils completely dilate, fully swallowing your iris’. your chest heaving as your adrenaline kicks up.
after a beat, you nod slowly. your soft “okay” barely audible, mike grins like he just won the lottery.
“well hop on baby,” mike says, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. “we don’t have all night.”
mike pulls away, falling on his back on the bed. laying his laced hands on his stomach, waiting patiently for you to give him what he wants.
he waits as you take a steadying breath, gathering up the courage before you rise up and start to shuffle over to him. mikes hungry eyes watch you swing your leg over his lap, making your way up his body.
you stop short, sitting on his stomach with a timid look. mike places two grounding hands on your hips, squeezing them reassuringly.
“you have to tell me if i’m smothering you or something. i don’t need to accidentally kill you.” your hands fidget with the waist of mikes pants nervously.
“what a way to go.” he says wistfully, a dopey grin on his face.
you let out a small laugh, trying and failing to hide your smile. “you’re such an asshole.” you reply, pinching his chest teasingly. your tone is too fond to hold any actual malice. mike laughs back.
finally, you start to shuffle higher up his torso, but he stops you holding your hips in place. “other way, baby.”
it doesn’t take a lot of brain power to understand what he means. you let out a soft moan, a shiver wracks your body. pleasure zings up your spine at how filthy this is.
it’s a little awkward, but you manage to swing your legs around so you're facing the rest of his bedroom, not just the wall. from this angle, you can see how his dick is tenting the front of his loose sleeping pants, a wet spot forming near the tip.
you still only hover over your boyfriend's face instead of truly sitting, scared of hurting him. mike decides not to say anything, too preoccupied with the view directly in-front of him.
“fuck,” mike whispers hotly, staring up at your clothed pussy makes his dick twitch. baby pink lace darkened by how wet you are. he leans up slightly, running his tongue over the rough lace still covering you.
"shit...mike," you shudder, legs trembling on either side of his head.
mike takes his time, laving his tongue over the soaked lace a few times, reveling in your familiar taste, but his patience wears thin. soon enough he's tugging your panties aside to get at what he really wants before returning them to your hips.
mike moans at the sight of your slick pussy, already so wet from his mouth. he can't help but softly run his pointer finger through your folds, gathering your wetness and using it to circle around your clit.
you moan softly, trying your best to be quiet so abby doesn't wake up.
mike stops his fingers assault on your clit, too eager to chase the sight of your convulsing pussy with his mouth, the tip of his tongue sliding easily through your folds. he groans, rubbing his face between your thighs, no doubt covering his nose and chin in the copious amount of wetness leaking from your pussy. he quickly gets lost in the feeling of tasting you, of licking and sucking at your clit making you moan and whine.
"shit!" you exclaim, pitching forward to steady yourself with your hands flat on his chest. the rough feel of his stubble scratching your inner thighs, most likely leaving red marks on the skin there. you hope it'll leave marks, that you'll be able to feel it every time you walk tomorrow, a reminder of what the two of you did tonight.
by now you're white knuckling the front of his shirt as you frantically circle your hips against his face, the bed squeaking quietly under your movements. mike spurs you on with small smacks to your ass, groaning into your pussy with every pass of his tongue over your fluttering hole.
you can feel the vibrations in mike's throat as he fucks you with his tongue, guttural groans making your thighs shake in an attempt to stay upright.
but it's just too much, the onslaught of his tongue making you forget all about your earlier insecurity, and you fully lower yourself onto his mouth too caught up in your pleasure to even hold yourself up anymore.
mike's eyes widen in surprise at you seating yourself on his face, moaning way too loudly at how hot it is to see you lose control.
"fuck! feels so good, mike," you slur, head hanging down to your chest, hair falling around your face. "mph- mike - ah, ah, ah,"
you realize you're going to come like this, riding mike's face like you're starved for it. you can feel it, the warmth settling deep in your belly. flames licking there way up your body.
mike realizes it too apparently, because he latches his mouth over your clit and plunges two fingers into your clenching pussy, thrusting them in and out quickly.
the lewd squelching noises that fill the room make your cheeks burn in embarrassment.
“holy fucking shit! mike fuck!” you moan, trying desperately to control your volume. “i’m gonna come, oh fuck.” mike moans in respines, speeding up both his tongue and fingers.
the combination of mike’s tongue rapidly flicking over your clit and thick fingers expertly hitting your g-spot every thrust pushes you over the edge. one final suck to your clit has you coming all over mike’s face. drenching the lower part of his face in your juices and soaking up the dirty groans mike makes as he sucks up every last drop.
mike pulls away from you clit, and takes his fingers out of your pussy to let you come down from your orgasm. kissing across the inside of your thighs as you shake and tremble above him.
after a few shuddering breaths, you lift up and off mike’s face to collapse onto the mattress next to him. the two of you lay next to each other staring up at the ceiling, panting out wet breaths as you come down.
you turn to mike, his lips are slick and red. lower half of his face shining with your come, eyes half-open and hazy. you lift your hand to trial your finger down his body, making your way to the waist of his sleeping pants riding low on his hips showing off his dark happy trail. your hand slides lower to the ever still present hard-on tenting his pants obscenely, rubbing over his erect dick with purpose.
“your turn?”
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taglist!
@yuenity @ebodebo @mfdxz
#natalia writes!#natalia cant write anything under 1.000 words#fnaf#fnaf movie#mike schmidt#five nights at freddy's#micheal schmidt x reader#josh hutcherson#mike schmidt x reader#mike schmidt smut#mike schmidt x reader smut#josh hutcherson smut#mike schmidt imagine#mike schmidt x you#fnaf smut#smut
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18+ Minors DNI
How about an under cover mission with Bucky that gets comprised because he sees the high slit in your dress, the way it hugs your body so perfectly and those tits— he couldn’t let you leave the safe house in that.
Pairing: Bucky x Reader
Warnings: unholy amount of dirty talk, like oh lord it just don’t stop, a lil smidge of possessive buck.
He’s got a deep dark look in this GIF that drives me WILD.
“This isn’t happening” he groaned into the earpiece once he ripped his eyes from you, only for you to walk in front of him and give him a view of your perfect ass wrapped in black. He can feel his slacks becoming uncomfortable the more he continues to blare his steel blues into your figure.
“Bucky?” You turned to look at him after sensing his eyes on you and, shit, the fucking whine in your tone, you were doing it on purpose, weren’t you? You wanted him to fuck this whole mission up just for a piece of that ass and yes, yes you did.
“You’re not wearing that” his voice strained as he struggled to maintain his regular grumpy old man façade. A darkness falling over his eyes that only you knew— that possessive darkness that melted into his eyes whenever he thought they’d be other eyes on you but his.
“What do you mean Buck? The dress? It’s just the get-up, it’ll be fine for a few hours”, nothing got past your eyes. You saw his blue hues run themselves down your body, the way he shifted uncomfortably in those trousers.
He sighed, hands moved quickly, pulling the earpiece from his ear before everything about him invaded your senses. The way he ran his nose up your neck to the top of your head, savouring that oh-so-familiar scent mixed with the artificial perfume you’d been tasked to wear.
“Buck!-“
“Shhh, I told you sweetheart…. You’re not leaving in that. At least not until I can make sure everyone knows you’re mine” His voice was husky, his cologne rich and his overall presence domineering— your legs wobbled almost dropping you to the floor before his thigh slot itself between them. His throat growled at the feeling of your clothed heat against him.
“I feel that pretty pussy, she doesn’t wanna leave either”. His words sent a cold shiver down your spine, his right hand trailed down from its position on your hip to your thigh, the other following suit not long after. The different temperatures in both hands caused a desperate whine to fall from your lips and a buck of your hips against the scratchy fabric before you could stop it.
“You’re a good girl ain’t you? My good little girl— jump for me baby” His hot breath fogged up your senses, till everything was him. It was all Bucky.
With your legs now wrapped around his waist your heat pressed perfectly against him, his control over himself was slipping dramatically. He didn’t care about the damn mission anymore, just you.
“Fuck baby I’m losing my mind, you’re doing it on purpose, aren’t you? Corrupting this poor old man’s brain, making him think of nothing more than that fucking cunt huh?” He enunciated the last few words with heavy snaps of hips into you, his hardness rubbing you just right drawing weak little moans from that pretty mouth.
“Good girl, all desperate for me… you want that cock hmm? Tell me you want it” he groaned against your mouth when you rubbed that heat against him.
“I want it, I want it please” fuck you were so pitiful, you’d promised yourself you’d never beg for a man yet here you were— rubbing your little body all over the front of Bucky’s slacks and begging him to do god knows what to your body.
“You’re so sweet, even threw in a little please for me” his brows quirked as his left hand ventured down between your bodies. The cool metal wrapped around the now sodden lace sent a pleasured shock throughout your body, the cold knuckles brushing against your swollen nub, a soft little ‘fuck’ falling from his smug lips at the feeling of your dripping pussy as he pushed the panties to the side.
“You’re so ready, my little lady all soaked for me— fuck you’re driving me insane I can’t think of anything but that pussy” he mumbled pulling himself from his fly and jerking his length with the essence your hole had left on the metal of his fingers.
“You ready baby?” His words were uncharacteristically sweet as he rubbed his spongy tip over your little bundle of nerves before tapping himself on it softly, biting back a smile when your body jerked at the action.
“Mhmm” you could only nod and moan, that was enough for him. He was thick and long as he pushed in, even after countless nights together you’d never get over the way he filled you.
“Shit! Shit! Shit!” He held onto your hips tightly as his sweaty head fell onto your breasts. “fucking— almost came right there” he moaned before bucking up into you at a glorious pace. The movement of his hips was overwhelming, the cold metal of his fly brushing over your clit at every jerk of his hips, you’d be on cloud 9 before you knew it.
“That’s it, clench around me baby, milk me nice and good” fuck his words were filthy, far different than the Bucky he’d show everyone else— nah this was just for you.
“Shit sweetie! I’m close” he choked on a moan and plunged deep into you, your heat fluttering with its release at the feeling of his cum pressing against your cervix.
The room silenced of all sounds except your heavy breathing and Bucky’s lips nibbling and sucking on your neck, leaving the marks he promised he would.
“You know we can hear you right?” Sam mumbled from the earpiece but your lips were too busy on Bucky’s to care, you’d deal with it all later right now you had Bucky and that’s all that mattered.
-
It’s feral, it’s devious, it’s Bucky I can’t help myself.
#bucky barnes#bucky x female reader#bucky x reader#james bucky buchanan barnes#bucky#bucky barnes oneshot#bucky fanfic#bucky x y/n#bucky x you#marvel#bucky smut#mcu bucky barnes#james bucky barnes#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes fanfiction#james barnes#james buchanan barnes#beefy bucky
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My Roommate
It’s a typical Friday night, I’d made plans to go to a new club opening with some friends after work and I’m getting ready to leave.
Dressed in a short, skintight dress and heels, I’m just about to head out when I hear the front door open and see my roommate walk into our living room. His eyes sweep over me and I think I see his jaw twitch before he raises an eyebrow at me, “Going out?”
I smile brightly, grabbing my clutch and sliding past him to grab the door handle he’d just let go of. “Don’t wait up!” I cheerfully say as I spin out the door.
I catch him murmur something under his breath but I’m too far gone to notice. I spend the next few hours dancing, drinking, and partying with friends before I finally make my way back home, still a little tipsy and high on a wild night.
I stumble into the apartment, kicking my heels off as I step through the door. I’d been expecting darkness but instead, the lights are on and my roommate is sitting in the armchair in the living room, facing the door. I smile at him and walk into our kitchen to grab a glass of water.
“What are you still doing up?” My words are mostly clear but I can still feel the fuzziness in my head from all the alcohol I’d consumed tonight.
“I was waiting for you,” his voice is flat, with none of the friendly inflection I’m used to. “Hm?” I stare at him in confusion as I bring the glass to my lips, drawing thirstily from it.
I watch as he rises from his seat, walking towards me with purpose. I stare as he approaches, my lack of shoes making our already significant height difference even more pronounced as I tilt my head back to maintain eye contact as he draws closer.
“Did you get tired of prancing around in that outfit like a slut?” His words cut through me, dousing me like ice cold water. I’m slack-jawed for a moment as I stare over the rim of my water glass.
“What?” My voice trembles as my alcohol-addled brain comprehends what he just said. His eyes narrow into an anger-filled glare that makes me shrink and take a step back. He doesn’t stop advancing and my legs carry me backwards instinctively, only stopping when I feel my back hit the kitchen counter.
His voice is dark and biting when he speaks again, “Did you like it when all those men at the club gave you their attention while you whored yourself out? Did that make your cunt wet?”
My heart stutters in fear as I take in how angry he looks and how close he is to me. “I- I don’t know what you mean…” my voice is small and seems to be swallowed up by the room.
“Don’t play dumb. I know how whores like you act,” he sneers and he towers over me, caging me as he plucks the glass from my frozen fingers and sets it down.
“Desperate little whore who lives for the attention and validation that you get from men. That’s what you are. All you want is for someone to own you and possess you and treat you like the worthless piece of pussy you are.” His voice ends in a harsh hiss as he bends down to hold my gaze.
I can feel my heartbeat echoing in my ears and despite the fear, the alcohol, and the indignation that wells up inside of me, I feel my body clench in response to his words.
His hands settle on my waist, his fingers spanning across my back as his thumbs dig into my hips harshly. I whimper softly at the pinch of pain but I feel my pussy throb.
“And I’m tired of watching you run around like a bitch in heat,” he spits the last few words at me before he leans down and captures my lips in a punishing, bruising kiss. I whine into his mouth as I feel his tongue dominate mine, my hands coming up to rest on his chest briefly before my brain catches up to my body and I push away from him.
“What the fuck?” It’s anger now that fills my body and mind, “You have no right to treat me like that or say that about me! What I do is my business, not yours!”
He glares down at me, “It is my fucking business when you’re doing it all under my roof. And I have every right because I’m about to own every part of you.”
I splutter in disbelief, “Who the hell do you think you are, you freak? I don’t fucking belong-“ His hand cracks across my face as he backhands me.
I cry out as my head snaps to the side, my cheek immediately flaring in pain and fear settles into my stomach.
“Don’t fucking disrespect me.” His voice is ice as he stares me down. My eyes fill with tears but I blink them away furiously. My arm comes up to retaliate but before I can, his hand snatches my wrist and in one smooth movement, he pulls me around, pining my arm behind my back while pushing me down against the kitchen counter.
I struggle fruitlessly against him and expletives spew out of my mouth. I hear the sound of his hand cracking against my ass before I even feel it.
The force jolts my entire body and the sharp burn of pain makes me cry out. I twist and try to squirm away from him but he lands several more blows against me, each one drawing a cry from my lips as my thin dress does nothing to dampen the force of his blows.
“You’re fucking mine.” Every word is punctuated with a hit. I feel the tears spill over my lashes as the pain and panic bombards me.
“No, please stop, please let me go!” My voice is desperate and small as he overwhelms my every sense.
“Shut the fuck up,” his tone is cold yet heated with anger and possession as he grabs the bottom of my dress and wrenches it upwards, bunching it around my hips.
He lets out a mocking laugh, “You fucking whore, you didn’t even wear panties out.” I close my eyes as if that would block out what’s happening. He lands a few more harsh slaps to my bare skin, making me whine and cry out again.
I feel his fingers against my core and feel my heart stop. “Fuck, you worthless little cunt, you’re dripping,” his voice is gravelly as his fingers slide against me, collecting the slick that betrays me.
“Being punished like a whore really does turn you on huh?” He laughs with derision. “No, no please stop!” My voice shakes and I feel shame heating my cheeks simultaneous to the desire that heats my blood.
“Don’t lie to me, whore, I can feel how badly you want this.” He slams two fingers into my dripping pussy as he snarls his words into my ear. A strangled moan erupts out of my mouth as I shudder from the pleasure. His fingers don’t stop as they piston into me, the sound of my wetness filling the room with my cries.
“I’m going to give you exactly what you deserve,” his words barely reach me as the beating of my heart roars in my ears.
He curls his fingers inside of me, making my breath stutter as I feel my orgasm fast approaching. His fingers brush against my clit and I let out a broken wail as pleasure washes over me and I come undone on his fingers, splayed out on our kitchen counter.
“Fucking whore,” he growls in my ear as he works me through the orgasm, making me shake and writhe.
I gasp breathlessly as my body comes down from the high and he pulls his hand away from me. He grabs me and spins me around swiftly, the move making my head dizzy as I look into his eyes. He doesn’t even look winded while I know I’m flushed and panting like a bitch in heat.
Before I can get my bearings, his arm shoots out and his fingers wrap around my throat. I let out a strangled whine as he tightens his grip before pulling me out of the kitchen, toward his room.
I stumble slightly, my legs trembling from the orgasm that shook me. He yanks me by my throat before effortlessly tossing me onto the bed. The movement stuns me but I’d be lying if I said his show of strength didn’t make my core clench a little. I stare up at him as he pulls his shirt over his head and drops his pants, revealing his long, hard cock. The harsh movement makes it bounce slightly against the hard lines of his stomach and I let out of small whimper as I take in his size.
He smirks as he catches my eye, “I’m going to make sure you never want another man after tonight.” I shake my head in response, too overwhelmed to formulate a response.
He’s on me a second later, grabbing my arms to lock them above my head in his hand as his body covers mine. His lips attach to my neck and I moan softly when I feel his teeth scrap my skin, sending shivers down my spine.
I feel him mouth me harshly, in a way that I know will leave a deep bruise to show the world who owns me. I whimper softly and squirm against him, unsure if I should arch into him or away from him, not that he’s giving me much space to do either.
He pulls away slightly to run a free hand down my body, ghosting over my skin like I’m something precious he doesn’t want to break. But his next movement dispels that notion when he roughly spreads my legs and lands a stinging slap against my dripping pussy. A cry escapes from my lips as my body jolts sharply.
“Fuck, you’re dripping, you whore,” he growls before landing several more stinging slaps, hitting my clit with each one, the brutal pain combining with pleasure to make my head spin.
“Look at your puffy little pussy, swollen clit all sensitive huh?” He purrs softly into my ear as he harshly lands another sharp slap. I moan brokenly, trembling against him, my eyes fluttering shut.
I feel him shift above me and my eyes fly open when I feel his cock line up against my center. My gaze catches his and I watch as his lips curl into a cruel smile before his hips slam into place. My mouth opens in a wordless scream as his cock fills me and he sets a ruthless pace.
I arch my back against him, staring up at him with unfocused eyes as the pleasure mounts inside of me. His fingers are like bands around my wrist, keeping me pinned to the bed as he fucks me into the mattress.
“You’re fucking mine, you whore. I’m going to breed you and own every part of you. That’s what you need, huh? You need to be owned and controlled because that’s all stupid sluts like you want.” His voice is harsh, deep with possession and finality. I cry out and whine as my vision goes white and my body clenches for another time, my orgasm slamming into me with no mercy.
“Yes, yes, yes, I’m yours!” My voice is shrill and desperate as he unrelentingly forces my body into submission to him. His low groan fills my ears as I feel his thrusts stutter. “I’m going to mark you as mine inside and out,” he snarls as he throws his head back and slams into me one final time. I arch into him and feel his cock throb inside of me as he cums, filling me and claiming me as his.
His body collapses on me, pressing me into the bed under his warm weight. His hands release my wrists and I bring my arms up to wrap around his shoulders and pull him closer.
I giggle softly and let my lips brush against his ear, “Took you long enough to take what belongs to you.” He laughs with breathless incredulity in my ear. “Fuck, you’re amazing.”
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you know other women?
• pairing: theodore nott x reader
• now playing: my kind of woman by mac demarco / sad girl by lana del rey
• word count: 1.2k
• genre: smut (suggestive)
— not proofread again. i just wanted to write a short one because i haven't been in the mood to write anything and it feels shitty. also this is the last time i'm writing something like this, i just wanted to try it out. took the idea from this request!
“You’re the most jealous woman I know!”
There was silence for a moment. Your thumb and pointer finger slipped under his chin and grasped it gently, making him look up at you from his seated position. Your stormy eyes were a bit darker than normal. His heart skipped a beat at the close proximity you were in now.
“You know other women?”
Theo didn’t utter a word, his silence speaking volumes, proven more by the tremble in his lower lip.
“Theodore.”
He pulls back from your touch. Eyes fixated on the intricate natural curves of the grains of the wooden floor. Tracing every line. Ignoring the pulsing beat that hammers against his chest. He does this for what internally felt like hours that they didn’t even look like lines anymore. It looked like something else, indecipherable.
“I am talking to you and if you don’t look at me for another second longer…” Your voice trails off in a terrifying tone that makes his head tilt up in less than a millisecond.
“Answer me.”
“Well…of course I know them, but that doesn’t mean I talk to them, you know?” The twitch in his speech is noticeable even by the breeze that passes through the open window. The unbothered, amused tone that he tried to emulate is useless as you remain standing there unimpressed.
Still, and locked in on him like he was a prey. Almost daring him to make another slip of the tongue.
His mouth hangs open while he flounders in his position, his brain wracking for anything to save him from whatever it is you seem to be planning in your mind.
“Y/N. Darling. You do know that, right? Just like how you’re the only woman that I even let near me?”
Compared to earlier, he finds a sense of confidence to look you directly in the eyes. When you make no move to recognise this, he takes it as a sign to continue.
“And I was only playing with you earlier. It didn’t mean anything other than a simple teasing to get you riled up. It was just in the heat of the moment.” He said tremulously. Well aware that he looked and sounded like a mess, spilling whatever his mind could conjure up.
Not a part of him could pinpoint exactly what it was you were thinking, but one thing he knew was that he wouldn’t be spared. But frankly? He couldn’t help but feel a sense of nervous excitement coursing through him.
A tiny voice inside his head inviting him to keep on with the constant rambling that surely worsened his sentence.
Deep in his thoughts as he tries to expel them, he doesn’t notice how you have come closer, now standing a mere arm’s length away from him.
“You are mine only. It’ll do you well to remember that.”
The only response his body allows him is a timid nod as you press your thumb on his lower lip, pulling it down. They make a path of tingles as it travels along the sharp features of his face drawing out a whimper from him.
His breath catches in his throat as your hands tighten around the velvety strands of his chocolate-brown hair, tugging it until he is forced to meet your gaze.
“Your touch, your gaze, they are mine. Only I will hear the way you pathetically beg.”
Nothing more is said as you lean down and, surprisingly, gently press your lips to his. The familiar pair that he has craved since it last touched his hours ago. He ignores the slightly cracked skin; dry from the screaming match you’ve been at for a while.
It was slow. Passionate. Desperate. It fueled a fire deep within the pit of his stomach, travelling downwards.
His hands are wild and rough as they grapple at whatever part of you they can touch; your hips being its choice. But despite this amusing attempt to regain control of the situation, he remains vulnerable to your touch.
When you pull away from him, unknowingly, he follows your movement, chasing after that addicting warmth. One that you generously gave as you moved to leave a path of open-mouthed kisses along his jaw.
You don’t pause in your actions as you move your legs to sit on either side of him, his hands mindlessly moving along your lower back to secure you in his lap. Something that sends tingles straight to your core.
His insides were burning him from the inside out, flames consuming him. Intensified as you move towards a sensitive spot, rendering him into a groaning mess under you.
“You wanted this didn’t you?” You taunt playfully, a sly smirk forming in the corner of your mouth. “Tried to provoke me to give you attention?”
To which he tries to deny with meaningless words as his body contradicts them. Thrusting upwards to meet your cruel torment. To feel a sliver of relief in his tightening trousers. His hands, which moved to your hips sometime between your teasing, helped guide you in the back-and-forth motion against his groin.
“Look at you.” You whisper against his ear, biting his earlobes lightly. Tracing your fingers along his chest, drawing lines and curves. “Can other women have you writhing like a deprived man also? I’d be so delighted to see if they can even come close.”
He stares at you as you draw back with wide, unblinking eyes, and a slackened jaw as heavy exhales pass through his ajar lips. “No.”
“I don’t care for them, I just want you, please.”
Forgetting all sense aside, leaving it for future him to figure out, his lips found yours again. Tongue delving to explore the hollow of your mouth, while his hands continue to move you just to feel that fire blooming in his core finally be released. It seemed that maybe you were gracious enough to let him do it, despite the obvious act of disobedience that you punished him for.
The moans that were like music to your ears were pathetic enough for you. Getting louder that he had to push his head against your chest to muffle the sounds that others outside must have heard already. You run your fingers through his hair, something that always pushed him off the brink of his high.
In his desperation, he never forgets about you and draws his dominant hand between your bodies straight towards your clothes core before you roughly grasp his wrist and toss it aside.
“No touching.” You warn. “But-“
“You don’t deserve to.” You curtly retort. It was pathetic, the way that his hand itched to disobey you but he knew that he was pushing the boundaries too far already.
“Just as you deserve this.” You declare, his eyes widen in bewilderment as the weight on his lap is lifted, leaving him with only the pitiful feeling of emptiness. “What-”
You remain silent, casually strolling towards the locked door, indifferent to his wide-eyed desperation and his fumbling hands that seem to forget what it’s supposed to do. The a slight tremor in his voice as he calls for you.
“See you at dinner.”
“You can’t just leave me here, love, please.” He says, a hint of desperation at the end.
“You don’t make the calls, Theo.” You say, unwavering, while he sits there helplessly. You weren’t going to give him a punishment that he would like, no.
masterlist
#harry potter#theodore nott#theo nott#theodore nott x reader#theodore nott x y/n#theodore nott x you#theodore nott fluff#theodore nott smut#theodore nott angst#theodore nott imagine#theodore nott fanfic#theodore nott fanfiction#slytherin#theodore nott oneshot
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needles - tara carpenter
Tara Carpenter x Fem Reader
A/N: A little drabble bcz god knows we need it in this drought
“But baby I don’t wanna!” You whine, gripping Tara’s arm and burrowing yourself into her.
You feel the vibrations of her giggle before you can hear it, that silent wheeze that belongs only to your girlfriend.
“I know you don’t want to, but it’s good for you. I promise i’ll be right here.” She mummers, trying not to draw attention to the two of you.
You’re sat next in line for a vaccine shot, and although you know it is good for you, you hate needles.
“Ugh. God really gives his toughest battles to his strongest soldiers.” You announce dramatically.
Tara smirks just the slightest; and you poke her in the sides.
“Is this really your toughest battle?” She teases.
“I’m just a girl.” You grumble, heart picking up as the nurse gestures that it’s your turn.
“You’re speaking in brain rot right now.” Tara muses, gripping your hand in an attempt to calm you down.
Bless her, it doesn’t.
When you finally get in the seat you swear sweat is dripping down your face. The nurse gives you a small sympathetic smile.
“Not good with needles, dear?” She asks, cleaning her supplies.
You chuckle nervously, embarrassed but relieved that the nurse acknowledged it.
“A little.” You say, and slap Tara when she lets out a snort.
“Is this your girlfriend?” The nurse asks again, not unkindly.
You beam, looking over at Tara. She’s as pretty as ever, her long brown hair messy because of the wind.
“Yeah. I’m the luckiest girl in the wor- ah!” You yell in surprise, feeling a prick at your arm. You don’t dare look down.
Tara stifles another chuckle, and you send her a glare.
“Sorry about that sweetheart, I find distraction helps most people with Trypanophobia.” The woman says, rubbing your back.
“Aaaand you’re all done. Good job.” Tara whispers as you stand up, a little shaky.
“Stay here for 15 minutes. If you feel nauseous or weird, come find me immediately. If you’re all good, you can leave.” The nurse instructs, nodding for the next person in line to come up.
You nod adamantly, trying to convey that you’re really listening to her. You focus on her eyes, she has really pretty eyes, big and brown like Tara’s.
You feel a little tug at your waist and feel Tara dragging you back a bit.
The both of you find a seat somewhere close to the hospital, arms intertwined.
“Don’t you think that nurse was kind of cute?” You ask mindlessly, thinking back to the scene.
Tara raises an eyebrow, but her little smile tells you she isn’t annoyed. She’s amused.
“I guess. Not really my type.” Tara sighs, moving in closer to you.
She takes her pointer finger and places it on your bottom lip, getting a hitch from you.
“My type is sitting right in front of me.” She says, voice dropping a few octaves. You know what she’s doing, she loves to tease you like this. You’ve always had a weak spot for her voice.
You flush bright red, gulping.
“I only thought she was cute because she looks exactly like you.” You squeak, trying to get yourself out of trouble.
Tara grins, obviously comforted by your statement. “I know. I just wanted to hear you say it.”
She leans in and presses a faint kiss to your lips, tender. She tastes like that Willy Wonka Chocolate Lipbalm you’d convinced her to wear. It doesn’t taste like chocolate.
You laugh against her lips, and she pulls back with a rather big frown.
“You taste yucky!” You say, playfully.
“Excuse me, i wasn’t the one who wanted to wear this.” She banters back, tackling you in a tickle.
You wheeze, tapping her back. You give up way too easily.
“Okay, okay! Fine, it was my fault.” You admit, idea sparking in your head.
“But, I know just how to fix it.” You whisper, and before Tara can ask you, you swipe your hand against her lips gently, taking away all the flavored balm.
You lean down and press another kiss to her, and she just about melts into your arms.
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limiting believes i got rid of AND YOU SHOULD DO TOO in order to manifest instantly
-> time
before i thought and probably your case too AND I HOPE THAT IT’S NOT ANYMORE that time had anything to do with the loa, manifesting and stuff. that the fakest shit i’ve ever head. literally all is based off your mind and your assumptions.who tf decided that manifesting a house should take months? when time doesn’t even exist. LIKE TELL ME WHERE TF IS THE LOGIC? like just sit there and think about it, time was human-made and the law is just the law, so why would you make the time a law? like why tf would you even just consider time ?j just think about an answer.the law isn’t logical itself so why would you even try to make it logical by putting it together with something thats considered logical? just ask yourself. why tf would my penthouse in new york would take months to get to me? whats the answer to that now?
FORGET ABOUT TIME, about deadlines or whatever stop counting days like you were in fucking jail. the only jail you’re in is you’re mind.
-> worth and « bigger » or « smaller » manifestations
nothing has value, you’re the one creating value and putting things on a pedestal. do you know what’s worth more between a 1$ and a 100$ ? if you say the 100$ you really understood nothing did you? it’s as easy to have the 100$ than the 1$ as it’s the same thing to manifest a big fat miami house or a small condo in tokyo and if you think otherwise you haven’t totally let go of those limitings believes yet. why do you think money has so much value? it really is a piece of paper with a print. would you give a piece of paper with a drawing of an old man any value? no. THEN STOP GIVING VALUE TO MONEY OR ANYTHING IN LIFE.you think you could attract a person you don’t care about but not your crush or you desired friends? when those persons are worth the same and as easy to get as the other? the second you consider that everything you want is absolutely worthless and as easy to get as the oxygen you’re breathing right now, you’ll manifest.
the second you’ll pull out this bullshit that we instill in your brain of « value, worth, bigger things, harder to get, longer to get » you’ll instantly get it. THE SECOND YOU’LL KNOW THESE WORTHLESS THINGS ARE ALREADY YOURS, YOU MANIFESTD IT!
MAINLY STOP PUTTING YOURSELF LIMITS!!!!! you control everything what’s stopping you from getting that penthouse you want so bad?? money? money is worthless and you can get it the amount of money you want so now what do you need more? go get you keys and enjoy it cause you literally already fucking have it. YOU’RE DIVINE how can you manage not to have a simple piece of paper that has the number « 100 » on it? how can you not get a place made with of wood and rocks and itself filled with more things that are made with wood and rocks ? how do you manage not get the love of a simple girl or boy? THE ANSWER IS YOU DON'T MANAGE NOT TO HAVE IT CAUSE YOU ALREADY DO.
PUT IN YOUR HEAD YOU ALREADY HAVE IT ALL. NOTHING ELSE EXISTS, NOT WORTH, VALUE, TIME, ALL THIS THINGS DOES NOT EXIST SO PLEASE PLEASE GET THOSE BULLSHIT LIMITING ASS HUMAN MADE CONCEPT OUT OF YOUR GENIUS BRAIN AND INSTANTLY GET ALL YOU WANT WITHOUT RESTRICTIONS WHATSOEVER
->3D delay
don’t put in your head that there will be a delay forget about that.focus on the fact that it gets instantly to you and that’s it. do not care about anything else. « oh i don’t have my results yet it'S probably 3D delay😞 » no. you already have it wtf is even a delay? the moment you decided to have it in your 4D you instantly got in your 3D period.
-> self victimising
STOP THIS. stop all the « it’s not manifesting why?? why everyone but me 🥺» please. you’re worth more than that. persist no matter what.stop slowing down your living in the end process. if you wanna feel sad about a situation, be sad, but don’t even start self-victimising. don’t eat up your feelings it leads to nothing good but always remind yourself that you have the knowledge that ppl out there don’t have access to. people dying or being in the worst situation ever dont even have any way to get out of it cause they don’t know but YOU? YOU KNOW THE TRUTH. YOU KNOW THE LAW. YOU KNOW YOUR LIMITLESS POWER. YOU CAN HAVE YOUR DREAM LIFE SO WHY SELF VICTIMISE? YOU AREADY GOT IT ALLL GIRLLL
btw that’s my first blog i hope it was inspiring🥰 and i dont tell you may all your manifestations come true cause they’re obviously already all true
#manifesting#law of assumption#neville goddard#self concept#limiting beliefs#manifesation#dream life#affirm and persist#loa success#master manifestor#loassumption
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Now that you mentioned drunk Silas, I would like to know what would happen if he came home drunk, lol
And I really like your work
Like literally to die for
Drunk off of you
mafia!yandere OC x fem!reader
Summary: Silas comes home drunk and has a need for you
Warnings: nsfw, possessive behavior
Word count: 0.8k
A/N: my very first sexual scene that I managed to complete!! I really liked it but I'm very nervous to show it so don't be surprised if I become a coward and take it down later</3
Silas fumbles through the door late at night. He grunts sluggishly. You wake up when he accidentally drops his keys on the floor. Quickly, you sit up and look at his dark shadow.
“Oh, sorry”, he mumbles drunkenly. “Didn’t mean to wake you up.”
“Where have you been?” you ask quietly.
“Nowhere, don’t worry about it, darling.”
You know better than to ask questions about his whereabouts. You should consider yourself lucky that he isn’t covered in blood as usual.
He drags himself over to the bed and lies on top of your legs, hugging them. Silas presses his cheek against your knees while sighing out. By the way his fingertips dig into the covers, you can already tell just what type of drunk he is tonight.
“Touch me”, he mumbles with his eyes closed. “Run your fingers through my hair.”
You listen. Carefully, you touch his black strands and let your fingers massage his scalp. Silas breathes out and relaxes. He snuggles closer to your legs and smile.
“I love you”, he whispers.
You can’t bring yourself to say it back. Telling a mafia leader that you love him will lock you into a prison you will never get out of, you know that. Better to keep those words to yourself … for now. Instead, you touch his hair again, which seem to be the only answer he needs. Silas opens his dark eyes and looks up at your face. The lustful sparkle makes you gulp. You damn the butterflies that hatch in your stomach.
“I want you”, he says calmly, surely. “I want to feel you.”
You don’t answer. If you do, you’ll start to babble. Silas lifts himself up and crawls closer to you, until you can feel his whiskey-filled breath on your face. He glances down at your lips before meeting your eyes. The way his black eyes burn with lust intrigue you.
“Will you let me?” he asks softly.
You nod. Silas doesn���t waste a second before pressing his lips to yours. He breathes in your air until your lungs burn. His tongue corrupts your mouth with a taste of expensive whiskey. You can feel his fingers dig into the side of your throat and jaw. He wants you closer.
Silas’s every movement is careful — as careful as a wasted person can manage. Your bare body press against his much warmer. Silas wraps his muscular arms around your waist, holding you close. He wants you pressed up against him — be one with him.
“Doing okay?” he breathes out and pulls back to look at you.
You nod. Silas smiles lazily and dives into you. For a moment you’re certain that you can see sounds and hear colors. Suddenly you can feel every single fiber in your body. You hide your face down in Silas’s shoulder, trying to come back to reality. Silas chuckles and runs his hand down your back.
“You flatter me, darling”, he smirks. “Do you need a moment?”
You nod against his shoulder, feeling more flustered than you’ve ever been. Silas laughs lovingly and kisses your cheek. You can feel how he draws circles on your back while whispering sweet affirmations in your ear.
He takes your hands as he starts to move, squeezing them harshly. You're not sure if he does it to soothe you or himself. In reality, he feels as overwhelmed as you. There's nothing he likes more than to be filled with you. You, you and only you. His darling. His sweetheart. His reason to live. His. Silas loves to call you his. You're his and no one else's, will never ever be. He's the only one allowed to be inside of you, and the very thought of it makes his brain jump. He wants to show you off and brag to the world and at the same time keep you all to himself.
You don’t know what to do with your body, you can’t control it. Silas grabs your hands and holds them above you in an attempt to stretch you out and keep you on the mattress.
“Feeling good?” he whispers in your ear and you nod quickly. “Good.”
He continues to talk and talk and talk, until his words turn darker and darker. From sweet nothings like ‘you’re the best thing that has ever happened to me’, ‘you’re doing so good’ to husky promises of ‘I will never let you go’ and ‘you’re mine only’. The more the alcohol leaves his body, the drunkness of you enters — and that’s much more dangerous than any kind of drug. Despite his words turning more and more possessive, his body language stays the same.
Maybe that’s why you can’t seem to hate him. Despite his actions, he will always be sweet to you. But even if he wasn’t, he said it himself: he will never let you go, you’re his only.
#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere imagines#yandere drabbles#yandere oc x you#yandere mafia#yandere fics#yandere stories#yandere oc x reader
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Hi aali!, Happy Valentine's Day~ I saw your bumble date, swipe right event and would like to participate :D I put forward gojo satoru as my fav, red bottomed heels as my ideal valentine's gift and for my date to be sweet. Please and thank you in advance /^w^/
⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚⟡. — SATORU GOJO. swipe sweet: red bottom heels.
about. it’s a match! whilst dolling yourself up to spend valentines day with your husband — satoru gojo reminds you of how much he loves you with a very expensive and reminiscent gift ( 1K ).
warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! sfw, fluff, reader and gojo are married + have kids, reader is wearing a dress, afab!reader.
・:〃⤥ bumble date, swipe right event !
“are the kids in bed?” you ask your husband satoru as you scrutinise the line of red on your lips in the mirror. his large palms smooth over the curves of your frame, hugged by your pretty and powder blue dress, before stopping just above your navel.
the gesture is sweet, with no ulterior motives, you’ve learned over the years that your husband values proximity and closeness. he likes to hold you close like you might disappear and touch you as though to make sure that you’re real. tonight, he gets lost in the way you feel underneath his explorative fingertips, entranced by how beautiful you look tonight (or any other night).
cooing, you capture his attention — brilliant colbalt eyes finding yours in the mirror. “satoru,”
“you look good in this dress, baby. is it new?” he quips, head of silvering hair coming to rest at the junction between your neck and shoulder as you finish perfecting your lip. “sorry, yes honey. the rugrats are sleepin’.”
you squirm happily in your man’s hold, relishing the way that he loves up on you with kisses to your neck and his warm hands rubbing up had dabi’s your sides. “what about the sitters? did you pay them?”
“you mean fushiguro? we practically raised him, a bit of free labour never hurt anybody —“ when you cough unhappily, glaring at your long-time lover and father of your children in the mirror, satoru pouts into the kisses he’s fitted along your bare shoulder. “— fine, i’ll leave him a tip.”
the man is rewarded with one of your dazzling smiles, the type that has his heart bursting through his chest and his brain a mess. no matter how many dates you go on, how many times you celebrate valentine’s day together…satoru gojo finds himself falling in love with you all over again. each and every time.
“satoru baby, did you—?”
“yes, sweetie, i called the uber. it’ll be here in five. yes, i called the restaurant and had them push back by thirty and yes, you look beautiful. you always do. you’re just as beautiful as the day i met you,” years of marriage has taught satoru gojo to be prepared for anything. your fluttering mind, your worry for your children, the fact that you always take a little too long to get ready for the simplest of outings. these little habits and ticks of yours are things that he cherishes, things he wouldn’t change for the world. satoru has grown a lot since he first met you, and has grown in all the right ways to make sure that you’re loved.
spinning you in his bulking arms, satoru backs you up against your bathroom sink — caging you against it with his arms either side of your hips while he leans down to press a kiss to your forehead. “now, i know we like to be fashionably late to things, being the hottest couple in the world and all, but i really do think we should get going,” he scolds you playfully, but doesn’t make an effort to draw away from you. “i can’t push this table back anymore,”
you smile, blowing a kiss up at him so that you don’t smudge your lipstick. “don’t let megumi hear you say that, you know that he thinks we’re cringe.”
“he can think what he wants, nothing will stop me from showing off the most beautiful woman in the world,” when the white haired man finally steps back, your fingers remain linked — wedding bands clinking against one another. “let me get your shoes, gorgeous, the car’ll be here soon.”
as your husband retreats ( leaving you a love stricken mess in the bathroom ), you resort to packing a clutch with the essentials for tonight — debating on which lip gloss to bring with you until he comes back.
“remember these?” satoru questions you softly once he re-enters the bathroom — sinking to his knees despite the tight fitting black tux that he wears. your eyes drift over his handsomely aged face, firm and muscled form, down to the pair of heels he holds in his grasp. their white leather and red bottom sole are all too familiar to you. a pair of christian louboutin heels fresh from the box.
setting the pair of shoes down, satoru gently takes one of your ankles in his hold and positions it perfectly to slip your foot into the heel. “you wore them to our wedding, way back when. i remember that you spent hours deliberating between the kate model and the hot chick model. even still, i always loved how they looked on you,” he reminisces, lips ghosting over your thigh and thumbs smoothing up your calves once your foot is secured in its shoe. “how they make your legs look.”
he wiggles his eyebrows up at you then, making you snort under the dim lighting in your bathroom like two teenagers struggling to get out of their clothes after a night out. “satoru!” you squeal, pushing at his shoulder with your bare foot. “focus, we’ve got to leave soon,” your husband nods, working your other heel on while you reminisce. “i thought i lost the original pair in one of the boxes when we moved to the bigger house for the baby.”
blue eyes shoot up to meet yours, holding so much love and adoration for you. “not too tight, right?” gojo whispers, rubbing at the back of your foot to make sure the leather material isn’t hurting you. you shake your head, earning yourself a kiss to the knee. “you did. lose them. i remember how upset you were, so i figured i’d get you a replacement pair. they might be a little different but—“
“but they’re perfect, thank you baby,” even after all this time, satoru remains the most thoughtful partner you’ve ever had. you swear to yourself that you’ll cherish him always, look after him always. even after life and even in death. “i love them.”
“i love you.” gojo says tenderly, taking a stand and offering you his hand all in one swift movement. “now cinderella, i do believe our carriage awaits. our Uber driver has just set a timer and i’ll be damned if he drives away with my damn money.”
with that, you let your husband whisk you away for a romantic dinner — expensive and cherished red bottom heels clicking against the pavement while the wind carries your joint laughter as you run like fools for your uber (much to megumi’s dismay).
꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
#gojo x reader#gojo fluff#gojo x you#satoru gojo fluff#jjk fluff#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen fluff#gojo satoru x reader#satoru gojo x reader#gojo satoru x you#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen x you#satoru gojo x you#✧ ₊˚੭ — writing#tteokdoroki#𐙚 bumble date & swipe right !#✧ ₊˚✉️੭ — new notification#✧ ₊˚੭ — close friends story#massivementalitynut
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Sad Girl
Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Demigod!Reader
—-
synopsis: being a mistress on the side might not appeal to fools like you…
a/n: i love this song i love this fic i love this idea and most importantly i love my brain you are all very welcome <3
Sad Girl - Lana Del Rey
warnings: not proofread, secret relationship, player!clarisse, possessive!clarisse, kinda asshole!clarisse, she’s such a BITCH like you are not all that…. (i’m lying.), the usual swearing and demigod stuff, kinda like lmlylaw friends w benefits kinda thing except they’re both actually in love with each other, again NO SMUT!!!!! THERE IS NO SMUT!!!!!! THEY JUST MAKE OUT AND LIKE SLEEP IN THE SAME BED, again… i’m sorry the nightmare trope you can’t escape it. you can’t….., tell me if i missed anything!!
—-
Her hands are always everywhere.
She’s fast and agile, quick like a fox you sometimes see roaming around the woods, so she can jump from one spot to another. You’re supposed to have specific spots on your body, pressure points or whatever, that make you feel good.
When you’re with Clarisse, wherever her hands are lights on fire. You crave her all the time, the burn she makes you feel, the burn you know you make her feel- you’re pretty sure if she hovered her hand over your arm, your skin would find someway to grow and touch her.
You crave her, like a cigarette and the smell of the smoke, no matter how sad she makes you.
How can you be sad that you’re just one of her girls when at least you’re her girl?
How can you be sad when you get to wrap your hands around her forearms, feelings her muscles flex with the effort of moving to your waist, your hips, behind, the sides of your chest- everywhere.
How can you be sad when her lips are on yours, when your teeth are clashing together? Clarisse doesn’t kiss you slow. Clarisse doesn’t savor you. She eats you like you’re the first course of 12, a kiss full of greed and gluttony. Clarisse doesn’t kiss you like it might be the last time, because you both know you’ll always come running back to each other.
You’re the only girl she runs back to, out of all the flings that last a few days, the one nights kissing between cabins at bonfires- you’re the only one she lets into her room, into her bed. You don’t know why she comes back to you. Maybe it’s the way you bite your fingers to keep from moaning, maybe it’s the way you do moan when you’re finally away from everyone else, maybe it’s the way you thread your fingers in her hair or trace your nails along her muscles.
You don’t know why, but you know you love it, so you keep doing what you’re doing and say a prayer each time she leaves.
You don’t know why Clarisse keeps coming back. You don’t know why you keep coming back. You may be a sad girl, but at least you’re her sad girl.
“Gods, you’re such a pretty fuckin’ thing,” she mumbles, finally pulling away to catch her breath. You don’t really care about breathing right now, just her, so you bite your lip and resist the urge to pout.
“I know,” you say back. “But thank you.”
She chuckles, shaking her head lightly, her hand cupping your face as she kisses your jaw, her other hand holding up the leg that’s wrapped around her waist. You lean back against the bathroom stall until she’s breathing in your mouth again, drawing you back down to her with a hand around your neck.
She kisses you slow, hard and deep, finally giving you what you want- a glimpse of what could be. It’s bittersweet, because she kisses you like she really cares about you for just for second- and then you’re left waiting for her until she calls again. She kisses you for a long time like this.
But still, you resist the urge to chase her as she pulls away.
You breathe out, standing on your own two feet again, smoothing down your outfit and fixing your hair. She clicks open the door, hand against the small of your back as she urges you out of the stall.
There’s no one in here- this bathroom is always empty at this time of day, facts you’ve come to know due to your secret meetings.
You walk over to the sink, turning it on and running your hands under the cold water. You bring them up to your hot cheeks, trying in vain to pretend you’re not so affected by her, even when she was just pressing her hand against your cheek a second ago.
Maybe the reason Clarisse comes back to you is because you don’t ask when you’re going to see her again. You won’t say “see you tomorrow?” with a sheepish, hopeful smile on your face like you’re sure the other girls do.
“Bye,” you smile, and she hums, she doesn’t stop you from leaving.
—-
Clarisse moves like she has complete trust in the air.
She’s bold, especially when she fights, jabs forward and somehow manages to catch herself each time, even if she throws all her weight into a particularly hard thrust of her spear. The ground is often littered with holes from either ends of her spears, constantly putting it out to catch herself.
But it’s more than that.
She moves like she just won’t allow herself to fall, like she knows it’s simply impossible for her to fall.
You watch her now, admiring, really, the way she moves so confidently, so sure, so proud- she’s an unstoppable force, and there’s no object she can’t move.
She moves you, biting your lip as the muscles in her arm tense, fingertips drumming against the length of her spear.
She moves her sibling to the ground with a kick to their chest, and they slam down with a groan. She laughs, smiling triumphantly at another easy win- she hasn’t even broken a sweat.
“I hate you, Clarisse,” her sibling groans, but accepts her hand and let’s her tug them up. She grins, wiping dirt off of her spear.
“What’s that? Win number… 8,000? Somewhere around there.”
“Oh, fuck off, we both know you don’t have the brain power to keep track.”
“Oh, you’re so mean,” she says, rolling her eyes and hitting her sibling’s shoulder.
Someone taps your leg.
“You’re drooling.”
“No, ‘m not,” you huff.
“You are,” your best friend and half-sibling, Kaelyn, reaffirms. She pokes at your chin. “Right there.”
You resist the urge to wipe your chin.
“You just don’t get her like I do.”
“I don’t,” Kaelyn laughs, and the two of you watch as Clarisse winks at another girl. “Does it not bother you? You’re, like, literally just her toy.”
“Bitch,” you mumble, slamming your leg into hers. “It’s not that, though. Besides, why would I care? You help me sneak out almost every other night, Kay. I’m going to see her, because she asked.”
“Okay, so, if Clarisse started making out with that girl right now- you wouldn’t mind?”
“We’re not actually dating, so I don’t have any right to be jealous.”
“But you still are?” Kaelyn probes. “Just because you aren’t dating doesn’t mean you don’t still care about her like you are.”
You think about Clarisse so much you’re surprised the image of her isn’t branded behind your eyelids. You think about the way she touches you, the way she kisses you, but you also think about the way it could be. You think about the way that sometimes, just for a second, her hands will linger and she’ll breathe in deeply like you are all she’s ever wanted in life.
Of course you’re in love with Clarisse- she has a fire inside of her, some part of her soul that matches with yours, and you’re inexplicably drawn to her and everything about her.
But Clarisse doesn’t want you like that. She just wants the fun- and maybe you should wait for someone else who will actually love you, but she’s the best you’ve ever had. You haven’t even had anyone else, but you already know. You know no one else can make you feel the way she does.
You sit up straighter, ignoring the feeling of Kaelyn’s eyes burning holes into you.
“She’s ridiculously hot, a great kisser, and she gives me the time of day. That’s all I care about.”
“Okay,” Kaelyn hums, mercifully deciding to drop the subject.
And when your eyes inevitably roll back over to Clarisse and the other girl- she’s looking at you.
—-
You love Fridays.
You associate Fridays with the weekly camp bonfire, the smell of smoke and the laughter of your friends, marshmallows and the promise of a late morning the next day.
More importantly, you associate Friday nights with Clarisse’s bed.
She confessed to you once that she doesn’t really like the campfire and just goes to keep up appearances, maybe find someone, but now she has you. You come every Friday with no intention of staying long, wearing shirts you know will make Clarisse look at you- until she meets your eyes and silently demands you meet her at her cabin, or she just comes up behind you and grabs you.
However you end up there, you end up in her bed.
You’re sure tonight will be no different- you hope it’s no different, because you’re still a girl with needs and you haven’t seen her all week.
She’s the first thing you see when you get there.
Her and her siblings always occupy the best spot by the fire, so the flames dance along her face, and you can’t help but frown when you realize she’s already scanning the crowd.
“I assume you need me to cover for you tonight?” Kaelyn asks, arm linked with yours.
“I don’t know,” you mutter, feeling slightly dejected. She was probably looking for someone else- she doesn’t want you tonight, even though it’s become an unspoken tradition.
This is your mistake. Expecting something from Clarisse. You can’t do that, not when you know her, not if you don’t want this arrangement to wreck you.
And when you find the strength to look back towards her, her spot on the log is empty. She must have found someone else she likes the look of.
“Hey,” Kaelyn says, nothing the way you cross your arms over the shirt you wore for Clarisse- it feels worthless now. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” you breathe. “It’s fine. Just sucks, y’know.”
Kaelyn presses her lips into a thin line. “Yeah, I guess.”
She wants to say more. Ask why you do this to yourself, you know she wants to knock some sense into you- but you know that as much as this moment hurts, it will feel 10 times better to have her in your arms again when she comes back.
“Babe,” Kaelyn sighs, putting her arm on your shoulder-
“Y/N.”
Clarisse’s arm slides around your waist, moving you into her and away from Kaelyn with enough force so her hand slides off of you.
Kaelyn looks at you with wide eyes, and you have to bite your lip to keep from squealing. Her arm feels so good around you, so perfect, like it was made to be there.
“Thanks… Kayla,” Clarisse fake smiles, her fingertips digging into your sides. “I’ll take it from here.”
“O-okay,” Kaelyn says, sort of blankly, like she’s in shock- this is probably the first time she’s talked to Clarisse, or even seen her up close.
Clarisse drags you off, squeezing your waist tightly once- almost enough to hurt.
“What’s wrong, Clarisse?” you ask, putting your hand over hers- feeling like her nails might rip holes into your shirt.
“Sorry,” she breathes after a second, taking her arm completely away from you- a loss you mourn heavily. “My siblings were annoying me all fuckin’ day. And then they forced me to come early, and I was waiting for you and you came late.”
The sun only just started it’s descent 30 minutes ago, but you can tell there’s something more going on with Clarisse, so you choose to just placate her dramatics.
You loop both of your arms through hers, pressing close so your hip-to-hip, leaning your head onto her shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” you say, simply.
“‘S okay,” she mutters, and you resist the urge to kiss her pouty face.
—-
At the back of each cabin, built into the wall right next to the bathroom, there’s a separate room for the camp counselor. It’s small, but private- a regular bed, a small dresser, and a desk. Some decorate, Clarisse left hers plain except for spots for her spear and other weapons to hang proudly on the wall.
You’ve come to love the sight of the four beige walls, grown used to the feeling of sneaking out the window, thanking the Gods it’s on the first floor.
The door shuts behind you, Clarisse pressing her back against it. Immediately, you slip off your shoes, crossing the room to sit on her bed.
“Come here and tell me your woes,” you joke, but her face is twisted into something painful, so the smile on your face falls as well. “Hey? Did something seriously happen, Clarisse?”
She locks the door and walks over to you, standing in between your legs, tilting your chin up so she can stare into your eyes.
“You can tell me,” you say, knowing you would feel like an asshole if you didn’t at least try. But you know she won’t talk to you- sometimes you talk, one Friday nights, sometimes you just lay next to each other and ask each other random questions- but you know tonight is not one of those nights.
“No,” she mutters. “I can’t.”
She leans down, her lips millimeters from yours. She’s so close it’s like she’s filling up all of your senses, until all you can think about is her. But you’re used to feeling like this around her. You love it. You let your guard down and you let it in, you welcome it.
“Why?” you ask, curiosity getting the best of you.
She smiles, her lip quirking up just slightly.
“Don’t worry your pretty little head about it,” she breathes, before her lips finally crash down onto yours.
The rest of the night is exactly what you expected. You roll around and she touches you everywhere, touches you in places you didn’t even know could feel so good. She lights you up, she makes you feel black and white. She makes you feel so simple, it all narrows down to her and her body, her lips.
And when it’s over, when you fix your messy hair and lay your head on her pillow- you don’t know what she’ll do.
You’re both too tired to sneak out, and you like to think that Clarisse secretly likes the sleepovers. Sometimes she doesn’t even touch you, seems repulsed- usually the nights when you kiss slow and then you talk.
But tonight was all fury and desire, fire in your stomach and in her eyes. So she holds you against her, chest pressed to your back. You play with her long fingers, she lets you crack them and stretch them- it’s the one time she lets someone else move her around, you think. Her arm is limp around you, her hand totally at your will.
“Do you ever think about the future?” you ask her. It’s fun to ask her real questions like this. It’s fun to get a glimpse inside of her mind, small moments like this when she holds you. “Not, like, tomorrow, but after camp. College. After college.”
She hums.
“No. I don’t.”
“Why?” you’re pushing, now, but you don’t care.
“I don’t think I’ll have much of a future, really. Ares kids go on big quests and they die horribly. That’s what’ll probably happen to me.”
“That’s morbid,” you chuckle. “There’s people who would miss you, though. I would miss you. Who else would kiss me in the smelly bathrooms?”
“You don’t want anyone else to kiss you in the smelly bathrooms.”
She tenses, like she didn’t mean to say that and she just blurted it out.
“Yeah, I don’t,” you whisper, voice small. But it’s true. You don’t.
She relaxes back against you and you don’t push anymore, you let her drift off, her breathing slow.
Eventually, after you get bored of staring at the moon in the window, you turn around so you’re facing her. She shuffles a bit, but you just move her arm back around you, thinking she’s asleep.
And after a few minutes of you laying there silently, you feel her move. You’re so close to her you can hear her eyelashes flutter.
She makes an appreciative sound in the back of her throat, tightening her arm around you and drawing you closer. When you unwillingly flinch at the feeling of her warm hand sliding under your shirt, she shushes you.
“Don’t wake up,” she whispers, the softest you’ve ever heard her speak. You don’t wake up. You pretend you’re asleep, you pretend you don’t feel her, pretend you don’t care about the connotation of her softness. You pretend it doesn’t make your heart squeeze in what will never be, in what now is only the fruition of sleep and the comfort and privacy of darkness. “Mhm, stay asleep, baby.”
She kisses your nose, her hand scratches your back, the bare skin.
“Always so cold,” she breathes, “Always so pretty.”
And suddenly her breathing evens out and she’s asleep again.
—-
The next few days you pretend nothing is different. You pretend you didn’t hear her call you pretty and baby, feel her kiss your nose. You chalk it up to her frustration from the day finally disappearing in your arms and the fact she was half asleep.
She’s called you pretty before. She’s called you baby before. You’re sure she’s kissed your nose before and commented on the fact you run so cold compared to her running hot.
You don’t even tell Kaelyn about it, although you’re sure she notices a difference in you- it feels like you’re constantly removed. Constantly thinking about that one minute where she thought you were asleep.
Maybe the reason you don’t tell Kaelyn is because you know what she would say. You know that you’ve always been different then the rest of the girls Clarisse messes around with, but this is different. It’s different, the way she kissed you softer for longer last week, what she did Friday night- yesterday when she pulled you into the stables and sat on a hale of hay, guiding you to sit on her lap.
She said she couldn’t have her pretty girl getting covered in hay. And she had picked off the pieces that has attached themselves to your pant legs, holding your ankle as you stood there awkwardly.
And yesterday, she has kissed you not like she usually does, but slow and soft and so sweet. Mumbling against your lips about how perfect and pretty you are, about how good you make her feel.
When she slips you the note, you don’t expect it’s her calling you to her bed again. The second night this week, and it’s written in her slightly messy handwriting- but you wouldn’t call it chicken scratch.
Come over tonight
Please
-C
—-
Kaelyn seems skeptical over the fact that you’re going to the Ares cabin again, but she can also tell you don’t want to talk about it, so she just helps you.
You lay in your bed for a long time, waiting for it to get dark enough that you can sneak over undetected. And strangely, you imagine your pillow is her chest.
—-
You wake up in a panic. It’s late, later than you would have liked to visit her. You usually come around 12- it’s probably around 2, if you had to guess.
You slip your shoes on and fix your pillows to look like someone, tip toe out the door, into the pale moonlight. You feel on fire, excited to see her, cursing yourself for sleeping- wondering if she’ll be angry with you.
You practically run past the other cabins, checking down the numbers in your head until you finally reach cabin 5. You tug your sleeves over your hands, feeling the cold summer night a lot.
You run around to the back, feet sinking into the soft grass, climbing onto the little step stool Clarisse left for you and knocking extra loud four times on the window- so she knows it’s you.
You suddenly realize there’s light peeking out from behind the curtains- is she awake?
She opens the curtains and then the window, her eyes wide. She rips the window open with such force you almost fall back, throwing your hands inside to catch yourself.
“I’m sorry,” you start, prepared to worship the ground at her feet- but you don’t get the chance too.
She hooks her hands under your arms and practically drags you into her room, you have to scramble to keep up with how fast she sets you onto your feet, her hands pressing against your face-
“Why are you late?” she breathes.
You feel sort of starstruck. Like Friday, something is obviously wrong with her.
You look around the room- notice the fact she has one shoe on, and her spear is on the bed and not hung up on the wall- like she was preparing to go somewhere.
“I’m sorry,” you gasp, slightly out of breath from running, from the fact both of her hands are on your face and she’s staring into your eyes. “I-I fell asleep. Are you going somewhere?” you joke, trying to lighten the mood.
“I was coming to get you,” she whispers.
“Oh.”
She lets you go, sitting on her bed and taking off the one boot she had managed to get on.
“With your spear?” you chuckle, careful to avoid it as you sit next to her.
“No,” she lies, boot hitting the floor, she stands and returns the spear to the wall. “I just… thought something happened to you. It was stupid. I didn’t sleep well last night, I’m not thinking straight.”
“Hey, it’s okay,” you say. She stares pointedly at the floor. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I was fine, just asleep in my bed.”
Her eyes finally meet yours and she sighs, heavily, tension fading from her shoulders. She turns off the light and you kick off your shoes, watching as she circles you like a lion watching over its cub. You lay down on your back, prepared fo shuffle over to give you room- and you choke on air when she just climbs on top of you.
She presses her head against your chest, breathes in and out deeply.
And in the darkness, where your inhibitions are lowered- she presses a kiss to your bare chest. It takes you a moment, but you’ve learned to take what you can get with Clarisse. You don’t expect to get it again, but you enjoy it when it happens.
You wrap your arms around her and breathe in the scent of her shampoo.
“I’m fine,” you reassure her, and she nods.
You lay like that for a while, eventually you start to trace circles on her back- just soaking up the moment while it lasts, letting her listen to your heartbeat.
You pretend for this one night.
And when she’s almost asleep, her voice breaks the comfortable silence.
“Can I tell you a secret?” she asks.
“Yeah, ‘course.”
“You’re my only girl. I don’t… don’t wanna see anyone else anymore. I don’t.”
This is all you never allowed yourself to want from her. The one rule you have with Clarisse is to not expect anything, to not get your hopes up. But Clarisse is clearly abandoning all her rules tonight, so you abandon yours.
“Does that mean anything different?” you whisper.
“I just want you to come here every night,” she whispers. “I get scared when you’re not here, ‘cause I think about you so much I don’t know what I would do if you were gone.”
“I know, Clarisse. I know.” You hold your breath, feeling like a dam might spill over any second. “I know how you feel.”
“I jus’ want you to be here with me all the time. I don’t wanna… make out in the bathroom anymore.”
“Well, I do,” you huff, and she laughs, truly laughs and it’s possibly the sweetest sound you’ve ever heard.
“I wanna do other things in addition to that, okay?”
“I’ll be whatever you want me to be, Clarisse. We both know that.”
“But do you know I feel that way about you?”
“Do you?”
“You are… everything to me, Y/N. My pretty girl, my funny girl, my perfect girl.” She doesn’t look at you when she talks, but you let her speak anyway, you let her put one of her hands in your hair. “I had a dream,” she starts, mumbling, but it’s just you and her so it’s like she’s whispering in your ear. “That I lost you last night. That’s why I was so embarrassingly freaked out.”
“It’s sweet,” you whisper. “I thought it was really sweet. I was really confused, but I liked it.”
She breathes in your scent and it makes your head feel dizzy.
“I like it too,” she says.
She doesn’t say what you’re both thinking. You don’t either. Neither of you can promise that this will work, that you won’t run back to the safety of making out and Friday nights. But at least you’re both willing to try.
You’re willing to try, for Clarisse, because she has something about her that you know you’ll never find again. She has the fire, it seeps out of her in every aspect of her personality, the way she carrie’s herself.
She has a fire that has been burning with yours for a long time, before you were even born. And you were separated into two different brazers, but now you’re back, and it might not be good, but it feels right.
She sits up and kisses you quickly, her hand on your face, and it feels like she’s everywhere.
You may be Clarisse’s sad girl, but you could grow to be her everything girl.
—-
i just love them so lovey dovey and cute and aw i don’t really have anything to say just
shoutout to clarisse’s muscles, to the way she kisses, to the pet names, to the way she loves when she thinks y/n is sleeping……. yeah.
—-
bonus: the reason clarisse had the revelation and was all don’t worry your pretty little head was bc her siblings were teasing her abt how different y/n is and she was like oh no i’m in love w this bitch
—-
taglist:
@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies @pnsteblnme @mar2ss @restellsss @ravisinghs-wife @marsconer @evangelinexo @randomhoex @luvrrish @rebecca37 @saltair-and-palemoonlight @ace-spades-1
@hyejusdiary
#clarisse la rue#clarisse la rue x reader#clarisse la rue x y/n#clarisse la rue x you#pjo tv show#pjo x reader
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A/N: im still in denial and this is my way of coping
WORD COUNT: 1k
SUMMARY: You knew the emotions would catch up with Harry once more after the show. And you're there to guide him through these overwhelming feelings.
MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!
You knew it would be just a matter of time before the overwhelming emotions of the final show would catch up with Harry again once he has left the stage. The speech he delivered was just the first wave, knowing Harry, and you know him probably better than anyone else, more was to come.
The backstage was full of hugs, congratulations and promises to never forget the experiences shared on this amazing journey. Harry stayed in his show outfit for way longer he usually did as he made his rounds among his friends, family, all his loved ones who came out to support him on the end of his tour. And you stayed by his side through it all. His hand remained wrapped around yours and you silently waited for him to process it.
Now you’re back in your hotel room, it’s almost dawn, the night has stretched long, though you know Harry wished it lasted forever. You’re lying in bed, waiting for him to finish in the bathroom, scrolling through your phone, watching all the fan made tributes to Love On Tour.
You notice that the water has shut down for a while now, but Harry still hasn’t come out. Slipping off the bed you walk over to the closed door and try to listen to the voices and figure out what he is doing and then you hear it.
The sobs.
“Harry? Can I come in?” you gently knock on the door before opening it and poking your head inside.
Standing in front of the mirror, he is leaning onto the sink, his wet curls are falling ahead and you see his shoulders shaking right away.
“Oh baby.” You push the door open more and move over to him, hugging his waist from behind as you press a million kisses between his shoulder blades.
“S-sorry, I just—“ he speaks up, but his sobs doesn’t let him talk.
“It’s okay. It’s okay baby,” you squeeze him and rest your forehead against the back of his neck while you just patiently give him the chance to let it all out.
You knew it was coming, it’s no surprise. You expected him to have his emotions overflow at one point, he gave over two years of his life to this tour, it’s natural he is having a hard time dealing with letting it go.
Minutes pass by and his breathing somewhat regulates, you loosen your hold around him and urge him to move around so you can look at him. You’ve seen the tiredness on his face for a while now, but it’s screaming now, mixed with the sadness and bitterness that’s eating him away right now.
You take his tear soaked cheeks in your hands and lift yourself up onto your tiptoes so your lips could meet his salty ones.
“Let’s get you to bed, okay?”
He just nods and lets you walk him out of the bathroom and to the bed. He takes his side and you climb onto yours and he curls against you in an instant, his head lying on your chest as you’re propped up against the headboard.
“Sorry, it just all… came crashing over me,” he breathes out, his voice croaked and low.
“You have nothing to be sorry for.”
With gentle fingers, you’re raking through his hair, massaging his scalp while his hands slip under your shirt, to your ribcage so he can follow how it expands with every breath you draw.
“It’s so weird that it’s over.”
“It is, yeah,” you hum. Raking your brain you’re trying to figure out what would help him and you decide to recall your favorite memories. “Do you remember the show in Nashville? When I spilled cranberry juice on your shirt so you didn’t wear one under the sparkly jacket?”
“I remember that,” he chuckles. “Don’t think the fans were mad at it.”
“They all just want to see you naked, like I do,” you tease him. “That’s why I hid your shirt on Wembley night four.”
“What?” he lifts his head. “That was you?”
“Of course,” you grin.
“You cheeky little thing,” he shakes his head before resting his chin on your chest this time so he can look at you. “I loved it when you matched your outfit with mine.”
“You remember what shows we matched?” you challenge him.
“Madison Square Garden night one and two, Denver, Tokyo, Edinburgh, Vienna…” he recites, probably better than you could have.
“My mom loves the picture of us in Edinburgh, we looked like two Barbie dolls,” you chuckle.
“Pauli said you should have gotten matching outfits with them as well.”
“I am part of the Love Band too, right?”
“Especially when Sarah teaches you how to drunk before shows,” he smirks, taking you back to all the times Sarah was your teacher even though your sense of rhythm has never been the best.
“I would make an excellent drummer, come on!”
“Absolutely,” he laughs and the tears are finally gone, it’s all just the most precious memories from the past two years.
It gets brighter outside but the two of you can’t stop talking about the best moments you’ll always remember. Harry recalls his favorite fan moments, the signs, the reactions, he tells you about how he often thinks about the pregnant women he did gender reveals for and if the babies have been born already. You tell him about your favorite shows, the best dance moves he has busted out on stage and soon there’s no show you haven’t brought up, there’s something memorable in each and every one.
It’s past six in the morning when Harry finally falls asleep, exhaustion has won and he is snoring gently, still curled up against you as you watch him for a bit, feeling like you’re the one guarding his peace.
“You brought so many people home,” you whisper and craning your neck you press a kiss to the top of his head. “Now it’s time for you to go home and rest.”
Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!
#harry#styles#harry styles#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fanfic#harry styles oneshot#harry styles one shot#harry styles fluff#harry styles x you#harry styles x y/n#harry styles x reader#harry styles blurb
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Hi again!
Here are the requests for DBZ that I mentioned in my previous ask!
Feel free to write them when you want/can!!!
Dating Vegeta would include headcanon
Dating Future!Trunks would include headcanon
Dating Android 17 would include headcanon
Dating Goku would include headcanon
These headcans can be just SFW or both SFW and NSFW.
It doesn’t really matter to me!
warnings: smut, oral sex(fem and male receiving), mentions of trauma, possessiveness, protectiveness, fluff, vaginal fingering, possible mentions of violence
word count: 1.7k
pairings: Vegeta x Fem!Reader, Future Trunks x Fem!Reader, Android 17 x Fem!Reader and Son Goku x Fem!Reader
a/n: I didn't know if you wanted it all in one post, but I figured it was easier for me to do it like this! I hope you really enjoy!!!
SFW
Don’t expect much in terms of romance. He’s not that kind of man. But don’t fret, he will always be there to protect you and defend your honor.
If you show him any kind of affection, he’ll be so flustered and not sure how to handle it. Usually he gets quite irritated, but in reality he’s loving it so much. He wants you to be soft with him.
That being said, if you were to argue with him and fight as well, he’ll be so happy and so turned on. Saiyans do enjoy a feisty lover and they want to feel challenged.
But Vegeta doesn’t always want to fight. He wants domesticity as well and wants to feel loved just as much as anyone else. Show him the softness of a human lover and he will always come home to you for more affection.
He might surprise you sometimes by offering affection of his own. He’ll be red faced and stuttering, but he’ll offer you his heart and soul when he realizes you’re the one for him. You’ve got a lover for life.
NSFW
Vegeta wasn’t the most experienced when you first met him, and he was so shy and flustered the first time you tried initiating anything intimate. His hands fumbled and his mouth felt dry and his brain was blank.
With time, he found the right rhythm and touches just for you. He figured out exactly what you like and became the best at pleasuring you. Even if you are more experienced than him, he shows you just how much he enjoys pleasuring you.
Despite what you initially thought, Vegeta loves to give more than receive. He really loves being between your thighs, tongue gliding so perfectly against your wet folds. He drinks up your nectar like it’s the nectar of the gods.
Vegeta enjoys many different positions, but his favorites are doggy and mating press. Both for different reasons as well, considering they give him different kinds of control and feeling.
Sometimes he enjoys sensual, slow sex where you both take your time pleasuring each other. Most of the time his pace is rough and animalistic. He’s very loud during sex, lots of growling and grunting.
SFW
He’s so considerate of your feelings, but at times he can be flaky and miss dates. He’s not always the most focused when it comes to those kinds of things, but just know he really means well and never wants you to feel abandoned.
He likes to surprise you with cutesy things. He’ll make you a bouquet of wildflowers, draw you something he knows you find cute, make you a playlist of songs that remind him of you.
Trunks will always have your back no matter what. He will defend you with his life. You are the greatest thing to ever happen to him and he won’t let you slip out of his grasp no matter what.
He enjoys spending quiet time with you. You two can be seen cuddling in his bedroom, watching a movie you’ve both seen a million times over. Or you can be in the forest together, walking around and enjoying nature.
He’s big on romantic gestures and often uses them to excuse his flakiness. He’ll plan romantic dates for you even if it’s not always available to either of you because of the way the world is in your future. Trunks wants you to be so happy either way.
NSFW
He’s good with his hands. Trunks enjoys massaging your whole body first to really get you so relaxed and loose for him. Then he likes to suck on your nipples while he fingers you slowly. You’ll be dribbling all over his hand before long.
He’s obsessed with your scent. It could be part of his Saiyan instincts that kick in, but he loves your natural scent. He rubs himself against you just to get more of it on him. And the scent that comes from your pussy makes him drunk on you.
Trunks likes to act tough sometimes, but he absolutely crumbles if you give him a blowjob. He can barely look down at you as you have your lips wrapped around him because the scene is much too erotic for him to handle.
He’s a big fan of lingerie! Get dressed up for him and show off your body in those silky, lacy bits of clothing for him. He’ll spend so long just admiring your beautiful body and undressing you ever so slowly.
Trunks loves pulling out and cumming all over your ass or pussy. He enjoys looking at you with his seed all over your body parts. If you ask him to cum on your face during a blowjob, he’ll bust right then and there. He views it as marking you up.
SFW
He’s awkward at first. He doesn’t truly believe you’ve got feelings for him. He’s done so much bad in life, he figures his chance at romance was over. But when you show him softness, he’s melting.
Give him time to blossom and he’ll become the perfect boyfriend. He enjoys the closeness of being your boyfriend. He wants you to rely on him whenever you can. He’ll show you he can be so reliable.
Android 17 comes with a lot of baggage, and he never wants to open up about it. He’s ashamed of his past. But from time to time, when he does open up to you, please listen to him. The more you listen without judgment, he will be more open to telling you about his past this way.
If you were to play with his hair while kissing him, he’d be so flustered. His cheeks would be so pink and he’d look away. But he absolutely loves it when you play with his hair and kiss him so softly.
He worries a lot whenever he can’t be around you to protect you. He’s vowed to protect you for the rest of his life. It’s a way for him to cope with what he’s done and how to continue to live for a cause that’s worth it.
NSFW
Android 17 has an obsession with cumming inside of you. When he learned that his sister had a baby, he became a man who was relentless with trying to have his own baby. If you don’t want kids, make sure you get on some sort of birth control.
He loves slow and passionate sex more than fast and rough sex. Being able to take his time with you is the best feeling in the world. He’ll be in missionary position, your legs wrapped around him and all he can think about is how happy he is.
He’s big on kissing you slowly and letting it build into something else. Making out makes him hard like a horny teenager. There’s just something about your warm tongue rubbing against his that makes him dangerously close to busting in his pants.
He may need aftercare after sex. It takes a lot out of him emotionally, so just lay there with him and play with his hair and enjoy the pillowtalk. If it gets too intense in his mind, you can just kiss him and get on top again to let him fuck away the pain.
Android 17 loves to go on and on and on for hours. He’ll exhaust you with his stamina. He is a fucking machine, literally and he uses that to his advantage all of the time. Just remember your safe word!
SFW
He’s not the most clever when it comes to love, but he knows how to show you his affection through actions rather than words. He may come across as really dumb a lot of the time, but he surprises you.
You can expect cute little gestures often. He’ll give you wildflowers, hunt you an animal for you to cook, or even just pull you into his arms after a battle to kiss you all over your face.
Goku is so possessive and protective. Nobody is going to get between you two. He’s going to show anyone who’s interested that you and him are so close and nobody can ever break you up.
He’s got to have at least one hand on your body at all times whenever he’s near you. He’s also big on hand holding and wrapping his arm around you to keep you close to him as you two are out walking.
Doesn’t always know how to be the most romantic and he might actually ask for advice from Bulma to show him the right things to do or say during a date. He cleans up really good too and looks amazing in a suit. It’s not his favorite thing to do, but he’d do it for you.
NSFW
Goku is needy and wants to fuck all the time. Sometimes it’s even when it’s an inappropriate time. You’ll need to try and get him to behave as much as possible. But sometimes he just wants to shove his hands down your pants and feel your wet cunt against his large fingers.
He loves fast, wild and sloppy sex. Sloppy and wet kisses, snapping his hips so fast and hard, bruising grip against your hips, leaving scratch marks down his back as you try to hold on as best as you can.
Goku eats pussy like it’s his last meal. He devours you like you’re the only flavor he wants on his tongue forever. He’s really good at it too, using his instincts to figure out exactly what you like in terms of getting head.
His fingers slide so deep inside you, reaching places you didn’t even know could be reached just with fingers. He holds you on his lap, fingers deep inside you curling against that sweet spot as his thumb rubs against your swollen nub.
He’s messy with cumming. It’s always a bit inside and a bit outside, just messing up your pussy with his seed. He loves to play with it afterwards, pushing it back into you and then smearing it all over your clit. He’ll easily make you cum again like this after he’s had an intense orgasm of his own.
#bacon.writes#vegeta x you#vegeta x reader#future trunks x you#future trunks x reader#android 17 x you#android 17 x reader#son Goku x you#son Goku x reader#vegeta x y/n#vegeta smut#future trunks x y/n#future trunks smut#android 17 x y/n#android 17 smut#son goku x y/n#son goku smut#dragon ball#dragon ball fanfiction#dragon ball x reader#dragon ball z#dragon ball z fanfiction#dragon ball z x reader
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