#like all the works and all i got was two sentences back about it ... one of them being like 'cool but i dont like the extra details'
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Teacher!Natasha x Teacher!Reader Oneshot
For Lesbian Visibility Week! If you enjoyed this, please note and reblog! Feel free to send other prompts or requests!
Prompt: The students come into your classroom complaining about Natasha as a teacher not knowing you're her wife. This is version 1.
You sighed as you glanced at the digital clock on your computer. Damn. Your planning period was almost over, and you really needed to finish grading these essays. Soon, you would be back to teaching your high school history classes for the day. The period ended far too quickly as students began to file their way into the classroom, discussing this and that. You were so engrossed in your work that you were hardly paying attention until you heard “Ms. Romanoff” mentioned not once, not twice, but in a string of sentences.
Oh boy. Ms. Romanoff was one of the more controversial teachers at the school known for her no-nonsense attitude, sternness and sarcasm , but she was also fair with a dry sense of humor.
“Why did I take international politics as an elective? Oh, that’s right, I thought it would look good on my transcript!” One student said sarcastically.
“She’s so nitpicky! I got an A-. AN A MINUS!”
“Hers is the only class I don’t fall asleep in anymore. Not since….last time.”
“She’s so strict even the Macklin brothers shut up.”
“She’s terrifying. I heard she used to be an undercover agent in the CIA”.
You smirked at that one. You should probably look into that rumor.
“A spy? Shut-up, man. Who’s going to believe that?”
“I heard she was a failed actress.”
“I heard she voiced the Russian Siri.”
“I heard she’s a rich heiress that lost all her cash.”
“Look, guys, I don’t care. She just ripped our class to shreds.I just can’t right now. Nearly the entire class failed her last test. These test corrections are going to take all night.”
“At least you’re allowed test corrections! We’re her AP class and the only way we can make up points is through a new essay.”
“She’s scary. I swear”
“I think she knows what I’m thinking and then that makes me think more and then she thinks what I’m thinking and that thinking makes my head hurt.”
“I was ONE minute late to class and she gave me a late slip!”
“One time my grandma called me in class, and she made me pick it up.”
You shot a quick text to Natasha before the bell rang. Her classroom was two doors down from yours since you two were technically in the same department.
Time to log off your grading program and begin class. You pulled out the binder with today’s lesson plans ready to begin.
“Wow, you all are full of comments about Ms Romanoff today.” You said neutrally.
“Miss Y/N, you don’t understand. She’s so ….uh, extra.”
You withheld a smirk. Natasha wasn’t what you would call extra, but she was set in her ways.”
“I don’t think she’s extra. I think she just has high standards.” You responded. One of the students rolled their eyes.
"Do you all talk about me like this when I'm not here?"
"Nooo Ms. Y/N, we would never!"
"Well, maybe you could extend the same courtesy to my wife next time," you said, withholding a laugh. The room fell silent. A pin could have dropped.
“Fuck” you heard someone say under their breath.
“Language”, you chastised, but you couldn’t say you blamed them. You saw the students in various forms of awkward shuffling, a cough here or there or “Ummm” or “Uhh” as students tried to form sentences.
“Wait, you’re married?” a student questioned before being glared at by the others.
Your fourth period class was near silent for the rest of the period, with the students seemingly still in shock. One minute til the bell rang. You saw a flash of red hair out of the corner of your eye. Thirty seconds. Natasha knocked on the door.
“Hey, you, we’re all ordering from Robert’s Deli for lunch. You want your usual or will you finally try something new?” Natasha teased.
The class whipped their heads collectively towards the door. It was becoming harder not to laugh.
Natasha narrowed her eyes.
“What’s going on, Y/n?”
“Oh, you’re scaring my class, dear!” You said, smiling widely.
Natasha scoffed.
“Dear, huh? Oh, so they found out, didn’t they? As if us entering the building together and leaving together in the same car wasn’t hint enough that we’re married. Yeah, I might have scared a few of them. It was well deserved, trust me, Isn’t that right, Reynolds?”
Jason Reynolds sank down into his seat, not meeting Natasha’s eyes.
The bell rang. The students couldn’t scramble enough as they grabbed their bags and rushed past Natasha.
You gave a small laugh as you finally met Natasha.
“You’re a mean woman, you know that?”
“Hey, you texted me, babe.”
“It was great, not gonna lie. Sorry the “secret” is out.”
“It’s not like we’re closeted, we’re simply professional. I’m surprised they didn’t figure it out sooner….or maybe I’m not.” Natasha muttered.
Your stomach growled.
“Alright, I’ll look up the menu. Find something new to try for once. Promise.” You said in response to your stomach. Natasha nodded.
“Don’t want you to scare the next class because you’re hungry.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
End
#natasha romanoff#natasha romanov#natasha romonova#black widow#natasha x reader#black widow x reader#black widow x female reader#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff x you
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LACY (p. jay)
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
includes: oral (f receiving), fingering, crying, insecurities, soft dom! jay, praising, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, creampie, hate comments
word count: 3.4k
synopsis: 𝘢𝘤𝘤𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘶𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘤 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵, 𝘫𝘢𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘵𝘰𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧-𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘩
guts event masterlist ⋆♱✮♱⋆ main masterlist
Looking at your phone makes you want to throw up.
“out of literally everyone he pulls… that? gotta be a joke”
“jay deserves sm better”
“if that thing got a chance with him that means i’d be unstoppable”
“pls tell me this is a joke”
“girlie gotta have a god head game cuz ain’t no way lmfao”
As if you don’t feel bad enough about yourself already.
Ever since the photo of you and your boyfriend coming back from a date leaked to the internet, there’s been nothing but a ridiculous amount of hatred directed towards your clueless self.
In the morning Jay’s text saying please stay offline today baby was enough to make your stomach churn without even knowing what was actually happening. And against his words and your common sense, your fingers instantly went to the first better social media app on screen’s your homepage.
And so with every single comment put out on the internet, you feel your confidence and self-worth slowly crumbling down until they have eventually worn you out and you’re nothing but a sobbing mess ever since the morning. Your head hurts from all the crying yet the slightly masochistic part of yourself doesn’t let you tear your gaze away from the screen.
Maybe it’s because deep down you’ve always felt like you’re not good enough to be dating such a man as Jay, and the insecure thoughts he’s worked so hard to bury six feet underneath your feet have just resurfaced once again.
Knowing he’s surrounded by almost literal embodiments of the beauty standard on a daily basis and then having to come home to a plain nobody like you can’t be good for no one’s mental health, that’s for sure.
“Baby?”
The lump stretches your throat too painfully for you to make any other sound than the whimper you let out, and soon you hear Jay’s footsteps approaching your suffocatingly silent room.
“Are you there, love?”
You press your trembling lips together and nod your head, trying to force yourself to stop being so emotional for once. The last thing you want him to do is deal with… this, whatever your current state is.
“You’ve been reading the comments,” he points out quietly, but not with accusation – only worry. His heart squeezes with desperation to somehow make you feel better, yet you take his silence as a sign of disappointment in you.
And somehow you can’t bring yourself to look into his eyes, too swallowed by shame.
“I’m sorry,” you whisper eventually after a couple beats of silence. Your head drops lowly onto your bunched up knees. “I just had to see it myself.”
“Hey, no more twitter, no more instagram – no more,” Jay pleads softly as he carefully takes your phone out of your weak grasp and sets it on the bedside table, only to thread his fingers through yours and intertwine them together. “Don’t do this to yourself. Please, stop crying, beautiful. They don’t deserve your tears, hm?”
A sob rips out of your throat and echoes through the silent room, simultaneously breaking your boyfriend’s heart in two. “It’s just… I-,” you’re unable to finish your sentence with the hundreds of thoughts running around your mind, not giving you a moment of peace since hours ago.
“I know nothing I say will make you feel better now,” Jay whispers, shuffling closer on the bed until his chest is pressed against your shoulder and he envelops you in a protective embrace. He presses a warm kiss to your temple. “I love you. I hate to see you like that, honey.”
You nod your head, sniffling loudly and choking on your own sobs. “I love you too,” you cry quietly, moving your head to rest against his chest. “I just don’t feel good with myself right now.”
Jay hums. His hands blindly reach to your face to wipe your tears away, fingers gently caressing your damp face. “I know.” His words are muffled by your hair as he nuzzles his face in it. “I’m sorry.”
You can clearly hear the violent beating of his heart from your position and the insides of your stomach twist with sadness because you know well he’s blaming himself for everything. He promised to protect you at the beginning of your relationship, forever and always, and yet he’s failed at the one thing that should’ve been of the highest importance to him.
He felt conflicted about his job more times than he would like to admit. The constant restrictions, always having to watch his words and actions, the almost non-existent privacy – it was tough, annoying, but he could take it.
But he’s never hated being who he is more than he does right now. Seeing the person he loves the most, the person who holds his entire world, being in such a miserable state because of his job makes him feel just so helpless.
Swallowing his self-pity, Jay soothes you as gently as he can. His fingers thread through your hair, waiting patiently until your heavy sobs turn into hiccups and eventually small whimpers.
“I chose you, YN,” he finally says softly, hand pushing the hair sticking to your face away as the other one cups your cheek and brings you to look at him. “I chose you and I’d choose you over everyone else. It’s always going to be you. Always.”
You blink your lashes heavy with tears, cheeks stinging from the excessive amount of them that has dropped down your face. He nudges your cheek with his nose before pressing a gentle kiss to your brow bone. This tender gesture and his words finally allow the smallest smile to appear on your lips.
“There’s my pretty girl,” Jay giggled. His arms wrap tighter around you before he lifts you up and pulls you onto his lap. “You know, it’s okay if you don’t fully love yourself yet, I can do it for the both of us for now, baby. Please, believe me.”
You nod your head, now choked up for a whole different reason. You let him lean in and join your lips together in a sweet kiss. His knuckles caress your cheeks and chin as he plants a chain of pecks on your swollen mouth.
He tries to break the kiss but you don’t let him get too far away, pulling him back in by his neck and crashing your lips together again, this time more desperately. Jay’s fingers slip into the loopholes of your pants, bringing you closer and closer until there’s no space left between your chests.
The hushed I love you’s coming out from both of your mouths, his warm lips sucking a kiss after kiss on yours, his hand that drops down and sneaks underneath your top to linger over your skin – you’re becoming dizzy from the overwhelming love you’re being given.
“I’ve achieved everything because of you, love. I am who I am because of you,” he breathes out into your lips, forehead bumping against yours. One last time, he kisses the whatever is left of your tears away, then goes back to your hungry lips. “I’d give you the world if you asked me to. Let me take care of you, like you always do for me.”
With a strong move, he pulls you off his lap and lays you down on the plushy bedding. You shiver when the warmth of his body leaves you, only to catch your breath when he drops to the ground with the dull sound of his knees hitting the wooden floor.
His warm hands rub your thighs soothingly, palming your inflamed skin before his lips follow their lead and pepper small kisses all over them, gradually traveling higher. You can hardly breathe from the tension, impatiently waiting for his every next move, the exhaustion in your body making you feel everything tenfold.
The whisper you let out is strangled because of the prominent tingling in between your thighs. “I need you, Jay.”
With a hum of acknowledgement, he unzips then takes off your pants along with your underwear, discarding the clothes somewhere on the floor blindly. Breath hitches in your throat when he leans forward and finally buries his face between your legs, lips softly grazing your warmth.
His hands push on your inner thighs, holding your legs wide open as he leans down and presses a kiss to your pussy. A jolt shoots through your body when his teeth brush over your clit before he ducks his head down and engulfs it with his warm mouth entirely.
A shiver runs down your spine when his tongue runs flat against your clit, another but longer lick following right after. Your fingers clench on the duvet beneath you as you pant and whimper with every move that he makes.
Jay’s thumbs circle and press on the smooth skin on your thighs, he himself humming and grunting into your pussy as he slurps you up.
You’re perfect, so perfect in his eyes, yet the angle is still not satisfying to him, constantly searching for a better access to your quivering hole. Suddenly, his arms wrap around your knees and he swiftly lifts your legs further up, almost folding you in half as he sinks his mouth in your wetness again, groaning at how much better he can eat you out now. Properly.
A loud moan ripples from your throat and you jerk in his hold violently, not expecting him to just manhandle you like this. You’re just there, mind blank and eyes fluttering shut when Jay pushes his tongue into your hole, fucking and stretching you with it as best as he can. He’s being so loud with it, so nasty that you can’t help but surrender yourself to him completely, losing yourself to him over and over again.
Two of his warm fingers circle your weeping hole before letting them sink inside slowly, gently. With the addiction of his nose brushing over your clit, his tongue never halting its movements and now working in harmony with his fingers, you’re barely responsive.
You mewl and whine breathlessly, sweat starting to create a thin layer on your worked up body. Jay pulls away to take a breath and admire your blissed out face, long fingers curling up, and he ducks his head to cover your sensitive thighs with marks and bites.
“Aah, s’ good,” you slur out, arching your back off the bed slightly.
“Yeah? You like that, baby?” Jay asks, sucking one last hickey on your inner thigh before moving back to your needy cunt. You can only hum in agreement, the noise quickly turning into another string of moans and wails as you feel your approaching high.
Jay cranes his neck to get to you at the best angle, one that will help you reach your climax the fastest. He didn’t even realize when his now hard cock started rutting against the bed slowly, only focused on you and you only, restraining his own pleasure.
You open your mouth to warn him of your incoming release but before you can do that, Jay speeds up the movement of his fingers and has you coming within a second, a loud cry of his name on your lips serving as honey for his ears.
He drags his face away from your glistening pussy to take a look at your face.
You’re so beautiful, so perfect, soft and all his.
“My prettiest,” he murmurs, planting a bunch of kisses against your thighs and stomach before lifting himself on his arms and crawling to get you to face him, laying breathlessly beneath him.
He lowers himself to kiss you right on the lips, the slick from his face smearing against yours slightly but you’re too far gone to pay it any mind.
“I love you,” is all you’re able to choke out in a whisper. Jay smiles and brushes his nose against yours, kissing you once, then twice and thrice before letting you fill your lungs again.
“I love you more.”
And as much as you want to protest at first, you realize that he might be actually right. There’s no doubt of your feelings or devotion to him, you gave him your entire heart a long time ago, entrusted him with all you are and had enough faith in him to never make you regret your decision.
But no one loves like Jay does. His love is pure and raw, coming from the depth of his heart and overshadowing all other feelings you’ve ever harbored to another man.
That’s how you also know that no matter anything you’ll always end up together, overcome everything.
His gentle hands grab the bottom of the t-shirt you’re wearing, his actually now that he takes a better look at it, then lifts it up, revealing your perky breasts to him. He plants kisses against them, simultaneously unzipping his pants and kicking them down to the floor. His boxers are discarded next and you help him unbutton his shirt with your shaky fingers.
“Make me yours,” you say into his lips once you’re done with that, hand pressed against his cheek.
Your words are enough to send Jay’s patience out the window, and he’s lifting your leg to hook it over his waist before sinking his hard cock inside you, your walls instantly sucking him in to the hilt. He groans at the warmth that engulfs him, squeezing him so tightly he can barely move.
Your heart pounds in your chest, blood rushing to your cheeks at the intimacy, his eyes boring into you lovingly. Because that’s what he is. Utterly, hopelessly lovesick.
His chest heaves above yours for a moment as he lets you adjust and relax around him before settling for a slower and deep pace. Your breaths get ragged quickly, listening to the filthy squelching whenever he pulls out of you only to sink in further each time.
“See, baby? It’s all good now,” he rasps, sweaty hair beginning to cling to his forehead because of the stuffiness in your bedroom. “You don’t need anyone else. Only me. I’ll take care of you.”
“Only you,” you repeat after him, watching his eyes sparkle and eyebrows furrow.
He lets out a chuckle, out of breath. “Good girl.”
His hold on you tightens as he fucks into you, his large hand slipping to the back of your head and pressing your face to his neck. His thrusts grow faster, more erratic and messy, and the only thing you’re able to do at the moment is whine desperately into his skin and wrap your other leg over his hips, thighs clenching his sides even tighter.
You feel better. You feel heavenly. You feel loved.
He bullies his way so deep inside you that you feel as if on the verge of blacking out. It’s so good. You’re pretty sure you’re going to leave a drool stain on your boyfriend’s toned shoulder once you pull away from there as you’re just unable to close your mouth for a second, too fucked out to have any control over it now.
“Can I go a little faster, sweetheart?” Jay asks.
You whine into the junction of his neck. “Mhm.”
And so he does, his touch growing in intensity as well. He lets go of your neck and your head falls back onto the pillows and you finally get to look at his face, expression so soft and tender, and a stark contrast to the way he fucks you.
Your stomach sets ablaze with every loud clap of his hips against yours, his precum making a mess on your thighs.
“Fucking hell,” he moans lowly, not being able to get enough of the doe-eyed look you’re giving him. He didn’t know it was possible, but he thinks he loves you even a little more than yesterday.
The sloppy sound of your wet skin colliding with his ricochets off of your bedroom’s walls and your eyes water again – this reason completely contrasting to the earlier heartbreak. Jay is here to kiss all of your tears away, his warm lips tracing your cheeks and collecting every salty droplet that falls on your skin.
You throw your head back, nails digging into his shoulder blades. And then he reaches down with the one hand that’s not holding you, pressing his fingers on your swollen clit and rubbing circles on it, making you grow lightheaded again.
His never ceasing thrusts keep hitting your g-spot, without even giving you a second to breathe.
“J-Jay,” you whimper, voice wet and small, and he knows exactly what you want to communicate to him.
You fall apart in his arms as your orgasm hits your sensitive pussy even harder this time, making you squirt with a shallow gasp for air. You feel completely owned by him at the moment.
Jay’s eyes roll to the back of his skull for a hot minute, his cock aching and twitching as your walls spasm and squeeze him mercilessly. He buries his face in your neck now, nibbling under your ears and panting heavily against your skin.
Jay cums hard, probably harder than he ever has before – all because he knows he’s fucked you so good you can’t stop shaking in his arms. His own thighs begin to quiver a little as he ruts his emptying cock into your warm pussy, filling you up so nicely.
It’s the choked up wail that leaves your throat that spurs him into pushing more of his throbbing length into your sensitive self. His warm cum fills you to the brim, seeping slowly onto your thighs, yet he keeps snapping his hips against you slowly. “That’s it. Take it, baby. Take it all.”
Your lips part and when he pulls away from your neck, he immediately slides his tongue against yours. His kisses are sloppy and hot and wet but that only pushes you even further into the state of bliss, completely losing your mind for the man above you.
Your back is arched, making you press your chest into his forcefully as you jolt and twitch from overstimulation as he pulls out his soft cock out of you carefully.
Jay’s lips press to your temple warmly with a soothing intention. You try to catch your breath, body sweaty and clammy just like your hair. Yet you look just as pretty as ever to him. His prettiest girl.
He collapses onto the bed next to you and lets you cling to him for as long as you want to, holding you tightly to his chest and drowning you in praises and compliments. It’s only when he notices that your eyelids are growing heavy that he gently pulls you away and up from the bed, steadying your wobbly self on the rug beside your bed.
You look at him in confusion, eyes misty and tired and he can’t help but giggle and kiss you one more time. “We should probably take a shower first,” he flicks your nose when you scrunch it up slightly but then you nod your head.
When you start walking into the direction of the bathroom, goosebumps spiking your skin despite the hot temperature in the room, you turn around and frown when you notice that Jay has stayed behind you.
“You’re not coming, love?” You ask but he shakes his head.
“You go first, baby. I’ll be right there in a second.” He nods his head to the ruined bedding. “Gotta change the sheets first.”
You flush as you take in the mess you’ve both made. “Right,” you mumble and then disappear behind the door.
When you’re both showered and back in the bed together, you’re propping yourself on your elbows, trying to reach the switch of the lamp on the bedside table. You don’t get far when Jay’s arm wraps itself across your torso and brings you back down, right into his chest.
“Stay,” he mumbles, nuzzling his face in your hair.
You giggle quietly but give in and lay comfortably, half on the bed and half on your boyfriend. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Jay hums lowly. “I mean forever. Stay with me forever.”
You look at him, eyes slightly widening despite how tired you are, and his words take your breath away when you realize he’s dead serious. You’re at a loss of words, looking at the man by your side, stunned, yet he only smiles lazily and brings your hand to his lips to press his warm lips against your knuckles.
“Marry me.”
Lacy, oh, Lacy, I just loathe you lately
And I despise my jealous eyes and how hard they fell for you
Yeah, I despise my rotten mind and how much it worships you
taglist: @luvkpopp @yannew @hoonxclsvly @jongseongslvr @beomgyusonlywife @starggukies @koizekomi @ineedsomezzz @starl1ghtsinthedark @enhastolemyheart @seokseokjinkim @parksunghoonsgf @skzenhalove @somekpopshiteu97 @enhypens-hoe @alpha-mommy69 @jwnzlvr @wondipity
permanent taglist: @bambisgirl @arizejkt19 @luvmura @milisabunny @cathy-1997 @dilucsleftshoelace @ramenoil @jenjnk @jaylaxies @yoongspi @nichoswag @s00buwu @mon2sunjinsuver @goreconsumer @i4kt @heehoonsnemo @seongslutt @criminalyun @kissestojapan
note: i actually really like how it turned out xx
#carly's 2k event ⛧☾༺♰༻☽⛧#enhypen#enhypen x reader#enhypen imagines#enhypen hard hours#park jay x reader#jay x reader smut#jay x reader#park jay imagines#park jay smut#enhypen jay imagines#enhypen jay x reader#enhypen jay smut#jay hard hours
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Immediate Writer's Block
Had a comment on another post where I thought I'd probably need more space than the notes in which to respond, so:
constant-state-of-self-discovery
Oh I get the envy I feel it right now how the fuck do you manage to write without impassable writers block after 5-9 sentences because I haven't fucking figured it out lol
I do have some advice on this!
I think most writers get blocked from time to time, it's normal and my general strategy is just to wait it out, but if you're frequently blocked after only writing a very little bit, I think the problem is one of two things: either you don't know what you want to achieve with the scene you're writing, or you don't know what should happen next within the scene to achieve that goal. If you frame "I'm blocked" as "I don't have an answer I need" then often you move from just sitting there, sweating and staring at a blank page, to thinking productively about how you're going to get where you're going. It's the difference between not knowing an answer and not knowing an answer but knowing where to look for it.
An invaluable piece of advice for this, which I think I picked up from someone who got it off a National Novel Writing Month messageboard, is "When in doubt, ninjas attack." It's not meant to be literal, you don't need to have ninjas or fight scenes just because you don't know what to do, but it helps to get the creativity flowing again. If you don't know what should happen next, or you know but you're having trouble actually writing the scene, it can be very helpful to induce a moment of uncertainty or surprise -- to have a metaphorical ninja attack. One time I did this literally -- the POV character was just on the road somewhere and I didn't know how to get them from a pastoral country road to their actual destination in an interesting way, so I had them get attacked by highway bandits and have to fight them off, which also allowed me to demonstrate that the character had significant unarmed combat skills. But it can also just be like, two characters who are having a boring conversation can be interrupted by a third person, even just a stranger asking for directions, or there can be, IDK, an explosion, or something goes missing, or etc.
Sometimes it also helps to leave it alone but keep it in your mind and go do something else -- listen to a podcast, take a walk, read a book, not because those things are distracting but because all our inputs eventually feed into our brain and come out as reactions. If you're thinking about your book while you're wandering around a park, something you see in the park might have an impact on it. If you've got YOUR story in mind while reading someone else's, you might be more inclined to look at what they're saying and see what you think of it, how it might play into your work.
And honestly, sometimes you just gotta go past it. I'm working on the next Shivadh novel right now and it opens basically with Simon the chef getting into a spat with his love-interest-to-be over some cheese. He want the cheese, she won't sell him the cheese, so they get off to a very contentious start. But I suck at writing conflict especially when it's basically "A character I like is being pompous and another character I want people to find likable is being stubborn and somewhat unpleasant". I've been stalled on it for a while. But I know where the scene ends up, like I do know what the goal is, so I just...skipped it and went on to writing a scene I like better, where they meet a second time and actually discover each others' identity and that they're about to be forced into the grownup equivalent of a school project. Once I've gotten dug deeper into the story I'll come back and write it, and by then I'll have the benefit of knowing the love interest a bit better.
So yeah -- I think a lot of breaking a writer's block, especially when you don't need rest but are just stumped about what to do, is to twist and look at it from another angle. It's not that you don't know what to write, or don't want to write what you know you have to -- it's that you don't have the correct answer to a question, or you need to leave that part alone to ferment and come back to it later. At least, for me.
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Different lives: dad!Jason Todd x wife!reader
Request: Family au, I believe that Jason Todd is a family man and he would totally have 2 older boys like 15-13 a five year old daughter who has him like wrapped around his finger and the wife and Jason get like a call from the school saying there was a fight and Jason is all like hey no no we don't do that but then asks who won
***
It seemed like they were dancing at Dick and Babs’ wedding only five minutes ago.
Holding onto each other for dear life, like they knew that that person in their arms were the one. Like this little celebration, that was not really little, and not even theirs, made them think about future much more seriously.
And for the first time ever, Jason actually believed that maybe there was something more for him in this life. Something more than rejection, pain, fear and constant loneliness.
Of course, given the fact that he and Y/N had been together for a while, he knew that before. But at that moment, in the middle of the giant dancefloor, surrounded by other couples and guest and yet – having eyes only for her – he knew.
Two different things.
***
When he came back home from his work (he had regular work now! That scrawny kid and rebellious young adult turned into a responsible head of the family, though the moment of change somehow skipped them both) Y/N was on the phone with a concerned face expression.
“Yes. Yes, I understand. I’ll be there right away. Yes. Yes, absolutely.” She turned to Jay and send him a smile, tired if not exhausted, but a smile regardless.
He let her talk, instead focusing on his little princess daughter playing on the blanket next to her mother’s feet. That little being totally had him wrapped around her finger and all it took was a sight of her pretty eyes that looked so much like her mother’s and he was dropping everything and rushing to the girl’s side.
“What happened?” He asked taking Leah on his knees and settling on the couch next to Y/N, wrapping an arm around her shoulders trying to relieve the obvious tension. He had his girls therefore he had everything and there was not a single thing he wouldn’t do for them.
“It’s Liam and Dylan.” Y/N sighed pinching the bridge of her nose.
“Oh, right” Jason smirked at the thought of his two older sons. 15 and 13 now, looking and acting just like him at this age. Causing troubles wherever they showed, not taking anyone’s bullshit, but with a deeply hidden heart of gold. He was so proud of them, even if saying that out loud was a rare occurrence. “What did they do this time?” he chuckled, mischief dancing in his eyes.
“Jason!”
“What?”
“This is not funny!”
“Of course it is! They are boys, they are allowed to-“
“I’m warning you, do not finish this sentence!” she placed both hands on Leah’s ears “I don’t want my baby girl anywhere near trouble.”
“You know she’s got our blood in her veins, so that gives her a lot of genetic burden in the troublemaker area?”
“Jason!”
“What?” he shrugged casually “It’s true and you know it.”
“Mhm. Yeah, we’ll see how you act when he grew up on causing troubles with boys-“
“WHAT?!” Jason jumped off the couch, holding Leah’s little body close to his chest, his grip on a girl tightening significantly. “Over my dead body! That’s my little girl! No one is taking her away and-“
Y/N only laughed observing the jealous dad display and fairly enjoying the show of care. It was heartwarming, seeing Jason put so much care into someone. And him having it reciprocated as Leah nuzzled into his body with multiple happy chuckles playing with the fabric of his shirt, fisting and twisting it mercilessly.
“Daddy…” she chuckled enjoying his embrace. Even as a child she was always calmer when he was holding her.
“Shhh, shh baby. Daddy’s gotta have a word with mummy.” He caressed Leah’s hair and kissed the top of her head. “Stop laughing at me Y/N, this is serious shit! I need to start planning my predicaments for boys who might want to steal her heart and-“
“She’s five Jason!” Y/N laughed even more “I think you have a little bit of time.”
“This is serious!” he perked up.
“Of course. The same way it’s serious with Dylan and Liam.”
Jason grunted in annoyance seeing how she tricked him.
“Dammit Y/N…” he grinned immediately flinching inside at the thought Leah heard the cussing. “Sorry, pumpkin…” the little kiss planted on girl’s forehead did not stop her from repeating the word however.
“Dammit!” Leah cried out the word on the top of her lungs happily.
And that was how Jason knew he was up to a serious conversation with his wife.
***
An hour later, all the family was sitting in the car, Jason driving, Y/N shotgun and the kids on the backseat, with Leah in the middle being simultaneously entertained by both her older brothers. Under any other circumstances Y/N would probably let her motherly instincts come to the fore, but this time was different.
“Liam, Dylan, stop using my soft spots and family love for your own purposes.” She warned “you may love your sister, but you’re still in trouble.”
“We didn’t do anything!”
“Liam Thomas Todd!” she almost turned around ‘you got into a fight at school.”
“But it was not our fault mom!” the other son, immediately came to his brother rescue, having his back, which – again – awakened her motherly pride. A feeling she was not going to subdue to. Those boys needed a little reaming out regardless of siblings’ solidarity. “That guy just came at us and –“
“Dylan Roy Todd. Violence is not an answer and-” She said, with conviction at first but then stopping, having realized that those kids did in fact have Jason’s and hers blood and those words were a hypocrisy in purest form. Fuck. She hissed to herself, hesitating in the middle of the sentence. A mistake Jason was more than willing to jump at.
“A fight huh?” he smirked looking into the rearview mirror to sneak a glance at his sons. Liam with already bruising eye and Dylan with a swollen nose, clutching it tightly to prevent any blood stains on upholstery. “So, did you use those blows and punches I’ve been teaching you?”
“WHAT!?” Y/N turned from facing her sons to facing her husband so fast that something snapped loudly in her neck. “JASON PETER TODD!”
“Y/N, Y/M/N, Y/L/N” Jason grinned in response, not paying her that much attention too curious of his offsprings response “Who won?”
“You should have seen the other guy” his boys smirked in the same way he was, and his fatherly heart could not be bigger at that moment.
Even if he knew Y/N was already planning her revenge on them all.
#jason todd x reader#jason todd x you#jason todd x y/n#jason todd au#jason todd fluff#dad jason todd
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This story started with Guthláf, Théoden’s banner bearer. To carry a flag in war was (in LOTR and real life) very dangerous, and it got me thinking about the kind of person who would willingly take on that danger and why (see here for Guthláf’s answer). And then I got thinking about what it would be like to love that kind of person and have to watch them do something so brave and glorious and selfless but also so perilous. And that brought me to Wídfara.
Like Guthláf, Wídfara exists in canon for just a few sentences. He’s from the Wold. He’s intuitive about the weather. That’s it from Tolkien. But I do so love an obscure horse boy of Rohan, and two together is even better. Here they are in part 1 of 7, where our boys have their first meeting.
August, T.A. 3017
When he’d taken a third wrong turn in as many tries, Wídfara finally decided to ask someone on the street for help. Unfortunately, getting anyone in Edoras to stop to answer his questions proved even harder than finding his own way around the city. It wasn’t that people were unfriendly or unwilling to assist, but rather that they didn’t seem to even notice him as he tentatively raised a hand or stammered out the beginnings of a greeting. Everyone walked so quickly and with such a busy sense of purpose that they were invariably four steps past him already by the time he got his first few words out.
A quick glance up at the sun told him that he was going to be late if he didn’t get himself together soon, and the last thing he wanted was to make a poor impression on his very first day. He already had enough working against him – his simple country clothing, his thick rural accent, his obvious cluelessness in navigating his way around, all of which marked him clearly as an outsider – and he didn’t need his new éored thinking that he was careless or unreliable on top of everything else. He shifted his pack on his back, hastened his steps around another corner and felt a wash of relief at the sight of a garrison complex with the king’s banner flying in front.
An older man, clad to the waist in armor and standing with a rigid military bearing, waited on the front steps of the central building, just under the banner. His eyes scanned all the passersby, and when they landed on Wídfara they lit up with a spark of intuited recognition. The rigidity melted away in an instant, and he beckoned Wídfara over with a smile and a welcoming wave.
“I’m on the lookout for a new rider just in from the East-mark, and I would bet my horse that you’re him. And right on time, too. My name is Elfhelm.”
Wídfara dropped his pack and stood to attention. For all that he didn’t know about Edoras, he certainly knew the name of Elfhelm, the commander of the garrison and the functional First Marshal of the Mark any time the king himself wasn’t present. “Yes, Marshal. I just arrived in the city last night. My name is Wídfara, sir.”
Elfhelm’s bushy eyebrows shot upward at the distinctive heavy twang of Wídfara’s words. “The Third Marshal told me he was sending us a real country boy, and I see that he wasn’t exaggerating. Where exactly are you from, son?”
Elfhelm’s open, casual manner took Wídfara by surprise. Back home, his captain had been a rather grim man, one who never spoke an unnecessary word or showed his riders even a hint of his own personality, and Wídfara had expected the leaders of Edoras, some of the most powerful in the kingdom, to be even more stern. But yet again, it seemed, he simply had no understanding of how life in the capital actually worked. “I’m born and raised in the Wold, Marshal,” he answered. “My family has run herds out there for generations. It’s quite…” He glanced around at the bustling rush of people moving in and out of the collection of buildings around them. “It’s different from the city.”
Elfhelm nodded with a sympathetic smile. “Well, that’s certainly true. I imagine that Edoras can seem a little overwhelming at first to someone who’s spent his whole life in a place like the Wold. And an éored reordering is never easy on anyone. Saying goodbye to the people and places you’ve always known is a rough task.”
Wídfara swallowed hard on the lump that immediately formed in his throat. It had been less than a week since he’d been forced to say those goodbyes, gathered together with family and friends and brothers-in-arms out near his old post in the plains where the Limlight joined the Anduin. The Wold had never been a thickly populated area – the land was too unforgiving, the semi-nomadic lifestyle of the herdsmen too harsh – but as more and more families moved out of the grasslands and into the East-mark’s larger settlements and towns, an independent éored for the Wold had become increasingly unsustainable. No one had been particularly surprised when the reordering was announced, but it had been painful nonetheless and especially so for Wídfara. Because while his friends were reassigned to one of the three surrounding éoreds in the Eastemnet, all within a few hours ride of home, he had been singled out for transfer to Edoras, a place so foreign to him that it might as well have been Dunland or Rhûn.
His face seemed to betray some of his thoughts to Elfhelm, who put a large, comforting hand on Wídfara’s shoulder. “Change can be tough, son, but it also presents opportunity. And you’ve been given a golden one here. It’s not often that someone gets called up to the king’s éored – I can only remember one other time that it happened, and my memory stretches back longer than you’ve been alive. But your old captain was adamant that there isn’t a finer mounted bowman in all of Rohan and it would be a waste to just reassign you to yet another remote outpost. If you’re even half as good as the men of the East-mark claim, you can make a real name for yourself here.”
Wídfara felt his face grow hot, and he looked down at his feet. No one had told him how this transfer had come to be, and the thought of that dour, taciturn captain singing his praises to anyone was almost more than he could believe. And while he was proud of his own talent, he felt an instinctual urge to defend against the implication that the other riders of the Wold were any less skillful. “Everyone who grew up where I did learned early to shoot from a moving horse, sir,” he offered. “A herd will always attract wolves.”
Elfhelm chuckled. “That may be so, but your captain didn’t convince the Third Marshal of the Mark to send just any old herdsman to us. He picked you. Try to remember that.” A bell behind him tolled, and he glanced toward the door over his shoulder. “I need to get back to some other business, so we’d best get you on your way. You’ll be living in Barracks A with the other unmarried men of the company. You can drop your belongings there and then head over to the armorer to get everything you need. Training starts tomorrow at sunrise.”
“Thank you, Marshal.”
Elfhelm was already halfway out of sight before Wídfara realized that he had no idea how to find either Barracks A or the armorer. He considered calling after Elfhelm for help, but the marshal had indicated that he was busy and surely his other tasks were more important than giving basic directions to an ill-informed newcomer. Instead, he reshouldered his pack with a sigh, resigned to wandering the complex until chance took pity on him again, and he took a few hesitant steps toward his left.
“Other way, Wídfara!”
He looked up to see Elfhelm watching him from the doorway, one foot already inside and the door itself held open with his elbow. The older man laughed and nodded in the opposite direction. “Second building on the right. Can’t miss it.”
A furious blush rushed back to Wídfara’s cheeks, and he winced as he felt it spread across his ears and neck. “Sorry, Marshal. I’m still…I’ll learn my way quickly, I promise.”
Elfhelm stepped back outside, allowing the door to close behind him as he walked a few paces toward Wídfara again. “It’s alright to be new, son. You just need someone to help show you the way of things here.” He cast an appraising eye over Wídfara and chewed thoughtfully on his bottom lip for a moment. “Keep an eye out for Guthláf. He’s from Edoras, but his mother grew up in the Eastemnet and he spent much of his childhood out there. He even talks a lot like you do. You’ll like him, and he’ll help you get to feeling like home again.” He turned once more to head inside.
“Marshal Elfhelm?” Wídfara called after him. “How do I find him? Guthláf, I mean.”
Elfhelm looked back over his shoulder and smiled. “Anywhere there are people gathered, he’ll be right in the middle of it. You can count on that. He’s one of our best, and he’ll take good care of you. Just don’t let him talk you into playing dice with him unless you’ve got money to burn.” He pulled open the door and his last few words drifted out from the hallway. “See you at training first thing tomorrow!”
Wídfara rolled over again, grimacing as his left shoulder made contact with the floor. One of his first tasks that day had been to see the garrison’s armorer, where he had been fitted for new equipment and received the distinctive tattoo that would identify him as a member of the king’s éored: a small crown above a hill. Each éored had its own mark, used as a crude means of identification in the event that a rider was injured or killed far from home, and the armorers typically etched the designs onto the shoulders of new members, punching a small ink-tipped needle repeatedly into the skin to create the necessary lines and curves. The new tattoo left a lingering pain in Wídfara’s arm, though it was minimal compared to the ache he felt in his heart when he watched the armorer draw a line through his old éored’s mark, casually crossing out an entire decade of his life with a few minute’s quick work. But that had just been the start to an increasingly difficult day.
The éored’s clerk seemed unaware that Wídfara had joined the company, and no arrangements had been made yet for his pay. Wídfara was counting on those funds to support his parents back in the Wold, especially now that he was no longer close enough to help his father with the herd work during his free hours, and the possibility that his first wages would be significantly delayed left a sour feeling in his stomach. Then he had gotten lost on his way to the mess hall and again between the mess hall and the stables, where he discovered that the stablehand sent to fetch his horse from last night’s boarding house had brought back the wrong animal. At every turn, he seemed to be in the wrong place, with the wrong information, running into obstacle after obstacle while being constantly asked to repeat himself as the city dwellers struggled to understand his accent.
He had greeted the eventual coming of night with urgent relief, happy to retreat to the privacy of his little room in the barracks where, at least for a few hours, he knew where he was supposed to be and what he was supposed to be doing. But even then, he struggled. The small, soft bed in the room felt unnatural to him after so much time spent sleeping rough in field camps or out on the plains with his family’s horses, and he quickly gave up on it, crafting himself a makeshift bedroll on the floor instead. After an hour of further tossing and turning, though, he realized that the bed wasn’t the only thing that felt wrong. A windowless box barely big enough for both the empty bed and his nest of blankets on the floor was a poor substitute for having shimmering stars overhead and endless golden plains around him, and he wondered how he would ever find rest in such a confined little space. He sat up, frustrated, and decided to take a walk in an attempt to clear his mind.
The streets, at least, were much more enjoyable to him at night, when few others were out and about. It was quieter, and he could walk at his own pace without worrying that he was holding up someone behind him. Keeping close attention to where he turned and how to retrace his steps, he headed up a hill, thinking to get a good view of the city from the top of the rise and perhaps be able to better orient himself amidst the maze of the city’s layout.
It took only a few minutes from the barracks to reach the peak of the hill, but he was disappointed to find that the view down onto Edoras and the surrounding plains was largely obscured by a thin haze in the air and heavy overhead cloud cover that dimmed the light of the moon. The quiet of his walk was also broken by the presence on the hill of a small tavern, a little wood and stone building from which drifted not only the smell of ale and baked bread but the clamor of voices and laughter and singing. The windows were aglow with warm yellow light, and he could see a large and boisterous crowd inside, many members of which seemed to be about his age. He considered going in – his rational mind understood that the only way to make friends in new surroundings was to put himself where other people were – but the thought of dozens of bodies pressed into such a small building made him a bit panicky, and he had already used all the energy his mind could spare that day for navigating the stares, questions and sometimes the judgments of so many others. That would need to be a challenge for tomorrow instead.
He leaned against a corner of the tavern and gazed northeast, back toward the beloved home that was now obscured by the intervention of both distance and weather. A gentle breeze blew from that direction, and he closed his eyes to savor the soft feel of it against his cheek and in his hair. There was a clean, earthy scent to the air, and he willed himself to believe that this sign of a clearer morning on its way could also mean that good things were on their way for him.
At that very moment, the door of the tavern flew open, bouncing noisily off the wall, and a tiny gray dog scampered out, followed by the striding figure of a man in the uniform of his éored.
“I just need to let Slaga out for a minute,” the man called back to unseen companions inside. “Hold the game for me, and I’ll be right back to finish taking the rest of your money.” A laughing chorus of boos rang out as the door swung closed again, and the man chuckled to himself.
Wídfara registered the stranger’s words as they were spoken, but what flooded his heart with joyful recognition was the lilting drawl of their delivery, the comfortingly specific cadence and tone that represented Rohirric as Wídfara’s ear had always heard it voiced. It was the sound of his cousins calling to him from across the grasslands, his friends teasing and joking as they sat around a fire at night. It was the sound of his old life, and he wanted nothing more than to hear it again.
The other man was crouched down now, cooing affectionate endearments at the tiny dog that bounded in adoring circles around his feet, and Wídfara lightly cleared his throat. The man froze at the sound, the last doting little trill dying on his tongue, and he smiled sheepishly when he looked up and saw Wídfara standing just feet away. “I’m sorry. I thought Slaga and I were alone out here or I surely would have kept that to myself.” He stood and extended his hand in Wídfara’s direction. “I don’t think I’ve seen you around before. I’m Guthláf.”
Guthláf. The name chimed immediately in Wídfara’s memory, and he smiled to himself at how effortlessly correct Elfhelm had been on all fronts – where Guthláf would be found, how soothingly familiar he would sound to Wídfara, and how quickly just a few words of that familiar sound would kindle a feeling of comfort and kinship in him. He closed the distance between them with a few steps, and in the dim light that shone from the windows he found himself face to face with an unusually tall, well built man with long blonde waves, a trim blonde beard, and striking eyes of the palest blue. He gripped Guthláf’s hand with grateful enthusiasm and smiled. “Wídfara. You wouldn’t have seen me before, as I only just got here.”
“I certainly don’t have to ask where you came from,” Guthláf said, and Wídfara thought he detected a slight strengthening of Guthláf’s matching accent in the reply. “Welcome to Edoras, Wídfara. What brings you here?”
Wídfara nodded at Guthláf’s uniform. “I’ll be joining your company starting first thing tomorrow.”
“Is that right? We’ll be glad to have you. The boys could use an eastern rider to show them how it’s really done.” He glanced down briefly at the dainty little dog that was now cautiously sniffing Wídfara’s boots. “Don’t hold it against me. The absurd fussing with the dog, I mean. Every man has an embarrassing weakness, and I guess Slaga is mine.”
“Think nothing of it.” Truthfully, in any other circumstance Wídfara would have found both the toy-sized dog and the indulgent spoiling of it a little ridiculous, but he wasn’t about to say that to the first person in the city to take any interest in him. Outside of Elfhelm, who as Wídfara’s commanding officer was certainly no peer of his, it had been a struggle that day just to be noticed by anyone else, let alone engaged with or welcomed. Wídfara was eager not to squander this opportunity, especially with someone who seemed so friendly and good natured. “I love dogs and have nearly always had one myself, though admittedly never one that size.”
“He is small, isn’t he? I got him when he was a puppy and expected him to get bigger as he got older, but he just never did. And by the time I realized I had myself a lapdog, the rascal had already worked his way into my heart.” He bent down and scooped Slaga up into his arms, where he quickly settled with the look of one who spent a lot of time in just that position. Wídfara reached out and gave the dog a gentle rub behind the ears, which was received with a small, contented sigh.
“He doesn’t usually like strangers,” said Guthláf, looking up with a smile. “But then again, you’re not a stranger anymore, are you, Wídfara of the East-mark?”
Wídfara couldn’t identify anything unusual or remarkable about the way this question was asked, nothing that would explain the sudden rush of warmth that settled over him when that open, earnest smile was turned in his direction. But it was there all the same. “Not a stranger, at least not in the technical sense. And I would hope one day to be a friend, though I wouldn’t presume to call you that yet.”
“No? Why not?”
“You barely know anything about me.”
“But that’s not a problem. Discovering things about each other is half the fun of friendship.” He inclined his head and fixed Wídfara with a long, thoughtful look. “And I have a feeling there is much to discover about you.”
The steady gaze of those cool, blue eyes sent an anxious flutter shimmering through Wídfara’s chest, and he looked away. Before he could muster the nerve to speak again, the tavern door opened, and a red-haired head popped out.
“Guthláf, if the game doesn’t restart soon, Hildred insists he’ll take his losses back and charge you interest for making him wait.”
Guthláf laughingly rolled his eyes and waved a hand in concession. “Buy him another ale from my pot and tell him I’ll be right there.” The red haired man nodded and went back inside, and Guthláf turned once again to Wídfara.
“Do you ever play dice? If you’ve got the time now, you can join us, and by the end of the game you’ll have ten more great friends, I promise. Though I can’t promise I won’t take your money.” He waggled his eyebrows. “I’m something of a professional.”
Wídfara laughed. “Believe it or not, I’ve already been warned against playing dice with you, and I don’t know the rules anyway. But I appreciate the offer.” The temptation to stay in the kindly glow of Guthláf’s company was strong, but the tumult of the busy tavern still intimidated him. And the length of the day, with its many ups and downs, was beginning to catch up with him at last. “Will I…or, rather, I hope I’ll see you at training in the morning?”
He cringed inside at how needful the question sounded to his ears, but if Guthláf heard it that way he gave no sign. Instead, he smiled broadly and tapped a fist against Wídfara’s arm.
“Of course. I’ll look for you there, friend. Now wish me luck, not that I need it!” He and his dog slipped back inside with a wave, and Wídfara watched through the window just long enough to see them disappear into a rowdy group of men, all wielding mugs and talking excitedly to one another.
Alone again, he turned then to retrace his steps, mercifully finding his way back to the barracks without incident, and he stretched out once more on his floor with a heavy yawn. The weight of sleep closed in on him quickly, and he soon drifted into the comfort of peaceful rest, where a pair of the palest blue eyes lingered in his dreams.
Notes: Guthláf’s dog is named Slaga, which means “Killer.” Presumably he chose that name before he realized his “puppy” was already full grown and would always be a lil’ tea cup.
@emmanuellececchi @konartiste @sotwk @dreambigdreamz (I don’t usually have a tag list but I tried to @ people who had specifically requested it at some point — if you want off (or on, I guess) don’t hesitate to say so!)
Dividers by the lovely @quillofspirit ♥️
#guthláf#wídfara#rohan#forth eorlingas#obscure blorbos#♥️🐎🗡️#horse boys in love#lotr#lord of the rings#tolkien#guthlaf#widfara
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this is really fucked up, but one of the reasons why actors tend to not speak out on big political topics is because on some contracts, production companies will include clauses such as not being able to publicly contradict their political beliefs. this is enforced through either monetary penalties and non disparagement agreements, but they both serve the same purpose of having a legal precedent to publicly punish actors who do it
i was originally just gonna respond to this with an "ok" and nothing else but then i caught a good handful of people in my notes dickriding an actor who doesn't even know that they exist (and really only him because i haven't seen anyone doing the same for marsden or pally) so ykw how about i just take this opportunity to bring up a couple of other sketch things that keanu has done that show that he isn't nearly as cool as everyone wants to believe:
the party with netanyahu isn't actually the only time he's rubbed elbows with a prominent israeli - he actually trained with IOF special ops vet aaron cohen in order to play john wick (and on the off chance that anyone wants to dismiss cohen as some guy who was just in the IOF decades ago and left that shit behind, just take a look at his history here). cohen on his own is just an absolute piece of work and a cursory glance at his social media should tell you everything in case the past couple of sentences didn't
and since people want to play the fucking "keanu attended that party a decade ago!!1!" card with me (interestingly enough nobody's doing the same for marsden even though the thing with him was way back in like 2004) i'll go for something relatively recent: he's friends with killer cop toni mcbride. in 2020 mcbride shot and killed daniel hernandez and subsequently got sued by his family for it (guess whose movies they've requested that people boycott?). around the 0:10 mark of this video of the two of them meeting up, they make jokes about "shootin' newton," which is a chant lapd newton division cops came up with to reference the high amount of police shootings that happen there. also in case none of this is enough for you mcbride's a proud trump supporter so yeah she's just a full-on white supremacist and keanu not only decided to hang out with her for a day but also evidently knew enough about the lapd to know about "shootin' newton"
but back to anon's original point, am i supposed to care that he could potentially get fined for saying shit? this past week, hundreds of college students and faculty, most if not all of whom are significantly worse off than an a-list celebrity like keanu, have been brutalized and arrested for protesting the genocide on campuses. and somehow an actor with a net worth of $380 million can't say or do anything lest he run the risk of being fined or fired or whatever
#mailbox#sonic movie#sth#sonic the hedgehog#keanu reeves#shadow the hedgehog#btw thank you to everyone in the notes of that other post who brought both the cohen and mcbride thing to my attention
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🦭
#hellsing#hellsing ultimate#seras victoria#integra hellsing#sertegra#a#yay guns!!!!!!! murder.!!!! intimidation tactics!!!!!!!!#happy Saturday!! ‼️‼️🧍♂️🫶‼️‼️❤️‼️‼️#so sorry for the sertegra shortage I spent all week trying to lip sync things then remembered I had actual work to do#but I finally finished it!!! albeit I got a bit lazy but I did it! yay yippee!!!!!!!!!!!#beach boys hellsing power point going bonkers ‘every sentence has been said at some point in time’#I can prove that shit false using the power of horrible horrible connections that no one else would ever feel the need to make#anyway you guys should listen to Sunflower she’s warm and fluffy and has a lot of whole band collaboration#like you have Dennis And Bruce contributing songs that’s crazy you have two Bruce songs that never happens! also cool cool water is fun#yay scrapped smile tracks! and unlike the other smile scrapped ones that they put on studio albums she’s like a unique lil lad#like the whole first part isn’t at all on the like 2011 recreation unlike say vegetables which gets remashed or our prayer which is iden#okay well actually maybe it is more like vegetables in that sense it’s more it’s cutting something instead of adding#which a lot of the 2011 versions were adding things back that were cut like the cantina part of heroes and villains#actually okay now that I’m thinking about it shit would require a lot of explaining I can’t just drop the Charles Manson lore#or some shit like that and just move on… sorry beach boys 💔
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if im being honest and allowing myself to vent a bit about it ... another red flag was when the DM went 'wow i love the detail of your backstory but idk what i can do with it tho ):'
#[static]#it immediately made me feel bad for trying to make a character work with the aesthetic she had given us tbh#i could already tell she didnt seem to be super character story driven so i just made a pretty simple drifter-type#for a post-apocalyptic setting n such and made a group that tied into the whole over-arching premise#i also literally just did bullet points cuz i could tell she wasn't gonna want to read one of the backstories i usually do#and as someone who has mostly dm'd in the past i did my v best to make a character that was super easy for the dm to incorporate in any way#like a solid reason for being there a reason for wanting to adventure with strangers a reason for seeing the mission through no matter what#made a whole small faction and connected them to the overarching theme and plot in multiple ways#wrote down lore and npcs she could use for the faction if she didnt want to make up her own#like all the works and all i got was two sentences back about it ... one of them being like 'cool but i dont like the extra details'#aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh#ok im done yelling now i just need to vent for a second#i feel bad for feeling kinda bummed about the experience because this is the first time i got to play at a physical table in years#and i know how hard it is to DM#but also when you come to the table with zero notes for the first session its ... probably gonna be disappointing jkfghdf#i DID have fun however because the party banter was hilarious and it was fun getting to hang out with ppl!#but communication between DM and players was not great#also let me be clear she did like that i made so many connections and hooks into the story and it helped her a lot#she was NOT interested in my character's past like ... jobs or npcs#but also u could just Not say anything about it and just be like 'sweet cool thanks for the info' LMAo
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the jailbird
prisoner!simon 'ghost' riley
a full fic based on this post
cw: prison!au, civilian!reader, pen-pals, smut,romance/romantic!simon, domestic, missonary, wife kink, size kink, nudity, tattoo kink, body worship, cuddling
bunny says: like the fic? leave a comment! really like the fic? suggest your own! reblogs are always welcomed!
it started out as a flyer at the bus stop near your house. it was for a service that connected prisoners at a nearby prison with civilians as pen-pals. you had seen the flyer often over the course of work as you went to work.
you honestly felt bad, those people must be isolated. the organization prided itself on giving prisoners a bit of their humanity back by not cutting them off from those on the outside. so on a rainy friday you took a photo of the flyer and filled out the form on the organization's website.
that was how you met simon riley, or as he was called on the inside 'ghost'. what caught your attention wasn't his face scar that ran from under his nose down to the left side of his chin, but rather his brown eyes. how intense they stared into the camera. it was almost intimidating.
but you kept the photo on your desk as you typed out your first letter to send to him. you heard of places who did it through email, but screen time for those could often be limited and to send a physical letter would ensure that it would be sent to them.
the letter started out simple, you asked how he was and if it was okay to ask what he was in prison for. you asked him other questions, like if his health was doing well, what did he do most days while on the inside. you ended the letter with a little information about yourself.
you thought it would be nice to take a few photos and print them out on photo paper to be included with your letter. just so he had a better idea of who he was talking about. once you tweaked the letter with a bit of editing, you printed it out and thanks to the Royal Mail, your letter was sent to him.
you didn't actually expect for him to respond. nor did you expect for the letter to be do detailed. it was almost three pages double sided in neat hand writing. your eyes went wide when you saw the thickness of the envelope with the stamp of approval from the prison for it to be sent to you.
simon sent you a bracelet made of string that had been braided together. he said you were the first person from the outside to reach out since he got locked up. that broke your heart. it only broke further the more you read.
he was a military man who was tossed aside once the ptsd got too intense. he had been between jobs, and it felt like everything was just too much for him. he got wrapped up in large scale theft, while it paid good, you could only rob so many banks before it all caught up. he had been in for three years now, he was thankful it wasn't a life sentence. not much was stolen, and there was minimal violence. he said that his stature alone intimidated enough people that he didn't need to be violent.
you re-read his letters and it wouldn't be until almost six months of speaking that you finally wore the bracelet. when he said, "i want to see you in it, since i can't buy you a ring." you sent a photo of you wearing it and since then you hadn't taken it off.
the letters were nice, you sent them at least twice a week. even though you two had never met face to face, and the only photos you had of him were mugshots, he knew all the gossip in your work place. he knew the names of all your friends, your favourite saturday night treat and how you took your coffee.
he told you he'd be happy to make you coffee every morning before you went to work. that comment made your cheeks burn.
he often called you his 'wife' to the other prisoners. he had your photos on the wall near his bunk. he even kept the pictures where you looked terrible after you tried to cut your bangs one night. he knew the exact location of where your favourite take out was. he said that he was writing down ideas of where to take you once he got out. "i gotta make the missus feel special."
he even made you a birthday card. his cellmate 'soap' even signed it. you knew all about the explosives expert mactavish. when you looked into his case on the news, your eyes went a little wide. this guy was.. something.
simon did admit that 'soap' had a bit of a crush on you. but he said that 'johnny' was harmless and probably just liked the photo of a woman in the cell.
"he hurt ya, there will be no cell that could keep me from killin' him. no god either."
simon remembered everything.
the way he spoke about you and to you in his letters were nothing but soft. while he had to put on a tough guy exterior, his letters were filled with gentle words. like when he wrote out that he loved you in big text on a spare piece of paper so you could tape it on your mirror to look at every morning.
"i want to be what you get ready to."
"i want to be with you when you wake up."
"i want to come home to you every night. please make me an honest man."
you knew he was a trained killer. he was in special forces before his brief stint as a criminal. he was trained to kill, but in the margins of your letters, his love shined through. despite it all, he was capable of love.
and he wanted to pour all that love into you, his (future) wife.
you two would go on to write letters every week, for almost two years. when you got the letter from him asking if he could put you down as a permanent address when he got out, you cried. of course!
it was a cold spring morning, the sky was misty as you stood outside the gates of the prison. your heart raced, you even arrived early in the hopes he'd be released sooner.
and then you saw him.
those eyes. hard and stern, until he caught sight of you. his shoulder visibly dropped and his pace quickened as he made his way towards you. before you could step forward to meet him, he had you in his arms. his strong arms, littered with tattoos, wrapped around you as he held you close to his strong chest.
you held onto him as the air left your chest from the force he held you. you clutched onto his shoulders and choked out a sob. you squeaked, "holy shit."
he pulled away from you, but still kept you in his arms. you swore you saw minimal mistiness in his eyes. he reached to cup your face. he said quietly, "soft... like i imagined."
you beamed up at him, "of course, si."
"your voice is so nice." he groaned as he then pulled you close once more and buried his nose in your hair. he inhaled the scent of your shampoo and relaxed, "i'm home."
you thought transitioning from being the only person in the flat, to having this hulking, strong man in your home as well, was going to be a bit hard. but that didn't matter when simon got you through the door. his hands were on you, he promised on the universe that he'd romance you tomorrow.
but tonight was just going to be the two of you.
you managed to get his hands off you in order to get your shoes off before you led him to your bedroom. he was close behind you, he had a hand on one of your hips. he wanted to be as close to you as he could, you two had spent enough time apart.
you couldn't even close the bedroom door before he was pulling at the waistband on your pants. his calloused, strong hands felt delicate on you. it was like he was going to break you and he had to be as delicate as possible.
"si."
"i know, darling." he said quietly as he started to undress you. with your help the both of you were soon nude in the afternoon light in your bedroom. you tried to cover your chest with your arms but he pulled your arms away and looked at you.
your eyes met and you got up on your tip-toes to kiss him gently on the lips. soon he picked you up like you weighed less than a bag of potatoes.
he placed you on the bed gently when you half expected him to toss you like a shot-put. he admired your body down on your soft covers and soon got onto the bed too.
you reached for him as he pulled you into a tight kiss. his lips were chapped and you could tease the fresh skin underneath. your nails raked at his strong back, that you knew was covered in tattoos.
you wrapped your legs around him and held him. from a moment he dropped to his side and you two held each other. you tucked his head under your chin as you laid together naked.
it wasn't even meant to be sexually stimulating, you both just wanted to feel one another. to hear your lover's heartbeat meant more to you than anything in that moment.
you kissed the top of his head, you felt his blond hair against your face as you soaked in his warmth. you could almost cry from how nice it felt to be so close to him.
after everything, you had your man.
he said in his low tone, "you feel so soft. after everything, i have you. you made every day in the can worth it." he sighed, "thank you." he kissed at your bare chest.
you replied, "i loved your letters, i have them still." you chuckled, "i didn't want to throw any of them away. it made me feel closer."
"well. i'm not goin' anywhere." he looked up at you and smiled, "you're home and i'm finally here." he pulled away and got him between your legs. he rested on his knees and carefully moved you to his liking. he sat there between your legs and waited for your command.
you looked at him and nodded, "yeah, si. you can go." then tightened your legs around your lover. you held your breath as he slowly pushed his cock into you. you didn't realize how big it was until he was fully inside of you.
"are you alright, love?"
"golden."
the two of you moved together. it took a little bit to get used to the size, but the pressure and speed of his movements made heat spread through your body. like two pieces of the same puzzle, you fit together perfect soon after. it was like you two were always meant to be.
you felt so loved by him, it was so sweet. this was your first time with him and you only had a few sexual experiences with others prior to him. but the entire time you knew each other you didn't sleep with others, you wanted to wait for your man.
"that's my good wife." he groaned as he held onto your hips, "i know, you wanted this for a long time. i bet you thought about me when i was locked up."
you blushed and replied, "i did, si. i thought about you all the time, i even had your picture in my office. i wanted this, i wanted to be with you!" you whined a little as his cock dragged against a sensitive spot.
he chuckled softly, "yeah. i thought about my missus when i was locked up. i used to jerk off to your letters, your photos. messed one of 'em up by gettin' my spunk all over it." he licked his lips, "but now i can see it every day in person."
you smiled when he rested his body against you and continued to thrust up into you. you felt the curl of pleasure of your gut get together which each of his heavy thrusts.
the kisses you shared were intimate and hot. the air of your bedroom was warmed as you made love on the bed you would share together. your soft noises together filled the air.
you clenched onto him, you dug your nails into his shoulders. they were so strong and broad that they were much bigger than your hands.
he kissed you one last time as he quickened his pace. the bed moved against your movements as you both climaxed at the same time. it was like a shock to the system, the heightened euphoria before your head felt full of cotton.
you let out a soft groan as your grip on his loosened and you relaxed into the bed. you felt yourself partially get crushed by your lover but he gave a few more earnest thrusts as he made sure that his cum shot to the back of your womb.
he pulled out and dropped beside you. he tucked some hair behind your ear and wiped the sweat from your forehead with the back of his hand. your breathing was heavy, but you were both so happy. to share your first time together felt so special.
you nestled yourself into his arms and held his hand. you exhaled contently then said, "my husband."
he kissed the top of your head, he felt complete, "my missus."
part two
#jailhouse rock au#bunny writes#call of duty#reader insert#call of duty modern warfare#call of duty smut#simon ghost riley#ghost call of duty#call of duty x reader#simon ghost riley fanfiction#simon ghost#simon riley x reader#simon riley#ghost mw2#ghost#ghost smut#simon ghost smut#call of duty fanfic#ghost cod#prisoner au#prison au
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When jjk characters call you ‘clingy’
Feat. crybaby-ish!reader
Gojo, geto, toji
Cw: hurt, guilt, angst (if you squint)
This is inspiration from a mini series i read a few days ago by user @fumekara. It was so good, I love me some angst to hurt/comfort.
But i also wrote this from personal experience too, my bad yall i treat this like my own personal diary
Anyway, enjoy!
Satoru Gojo
He was pissed. He doesn’t typically show it much, but when he does, he gets kind of scary. He’s more quiet, his voice gets deeper, and his whole body language just shifts. So when the higher-ups piss him off after a very long meeting, the last thing he needs is someone to pounce on him. He usually loves it when you greet him at the door when you’re home for work. But today, he just wanted to strip off his clothes and hop into bed.
Gojo huffs as he leaves the elevator of your shared apartment and grabs his keys from his pocket to unlock the door. As he opens the door, he sees you in the kitchen grabbing ingredients for dinner. “Hi baby,” You softly greeted him. “Hey.” was all he said back. It confused you for a second because he’s never greeted you like that before.
“Is everything okay?” You walk up to him to try to kiss him on his cheek. “God- Y/n, please.” He grumbled, walking right past you and placing his briefcase on the table. “I’m just trying to help,” you defended, walking up to take his coat off for him. “At least let me take your coat-” That’s when he snapped. Something he’s never done to you before. “Y/n, I fuckin’ got it! Geez, you’re so fucking clingy!” He aggressively shrugged your hands off his shoulder. It scared you a bit, to see him so angry at you. You were confused, all you wanted to do was make him feel better. Were you really that clingy?
“I-I’m sorry.” your voice came out shaky and defeated. Hearing how small your voice sounded in response to him lashing out made Satoru’s heart shatter into thousands of pieces. He wanted to turn around and apologize, but the words weren’t coming out. By the time he turned to face you, Your back was already facing him, preparing dinner for the both of you as tears rolled down your face.
Suguru Geto
It was 2 weeks after Suguru deflected. 2 weeks since he committed mass murder in that village. 2 weeks since he left Satoru, Shoko, and the others. It was weighing on him and you could tell. Nothing but him, his two adopted girls, a few people who believed in his cause, and you.
You promised him you would go wherever he would go, and he was so grateful for it. He loves you deeply and would do anything for you. But some days just threw everything on him at one time, today was one of those days. Monkeys non-sorcerers begging him to exercise curses left and right, Nanako and Mimiko begging him to take them shopping, missing payments from those begging for his service. It was all too much. And the guilt was eating away at him.
He genuinely wasn’t paying attention to what you were saying and it annoyed him how much talking you were doing in his ear at that moment. You were both sitting outside watching the two girls play in the yard. “Y/n,” He interrupted you. “Don’t you have something better to do than to just bother me?” He sighed sounding so condescending. “What do you mean?”
“Must you always cling to me? Isn’t there something else you can do besides following me everywhere I go, at all times of the day?!” His voice raised a bit as if he was talking to a non-sorcerer. “I didn’t realize I was. I was only trying to tell you about what me and the girls did today,” You defended. “You’re always so busy, I rarely get to see you anymore.”
“Yeah, because you’re always underneath me. Sometimes-” He stopped mid-sentence because of the saddened look on your face. His eyes softened a bit. “Sometimes I just need my space.” He sighed. You only nodded and started to walk back inside. “Ok, I understand.” Your voice cracked. Leaving Suguru alone to think about what he had just said to you. As if he didn’t feel guilt then, he definitely feels guilt now.
Toji Fushiguro
Toji was a bit frustrated today. He was cheated out of his money after doing a side job, the bet he placed on the race he kept constantly telling you about fell through, leaving him with zero, and to top it all off, the child support payment was coming up. You being an empath and knowing your boyfriend so well, you wanted to help him any way you could.
He was sitting in the chair by the island in the kitchen with his fingers combing through his hair. He was on the phone with multiple people at once, trying to solve his money issues. “Shiu, you guaranteed me way more money than this! How am I supposed to cover this months child support with this amount?!” You walked up to where he was, wondering what all the commotion was about. “Baby?” You softly called out. You could hear Shiu on the other line trying to calm him down and explain the situation.
“That sounds like a bunch of bull and you know it Shiu, you better have my money by next week thursday or else I’m taking it myself.” He grumbled and hung up the phone. “Baby,” You gently placed a hand on his broad shoulder.
“What, Y/n.” He sternly said. You merely blinked a few times. “I was just checking to see if you were okay. What’s with the attitude?”
“I’m fuckin’ frustrated okay? Please leave. You aren’t helping right now.” He waved you off.
“I barely did anything, I just wanted to know if you needed help with anything-”
“Jesus, I said enough! I don’t need your help. Fuck, you’re so clingy.” His voice booming caused you to remove your hand from his shoulder in fear. Seeing your reaction caused him to think about what he said and how he said it. The last think he wanted to do was scare you. He wanted you to feel safe around him. But with the way you jumped at how he raised his voice, it saddened him a bit.
“Y/n, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-” He was cut off by the sound of his child wailing in the background. “I’ll take care of it.” You said in the smallest voice, not even leaving him time to protest against it and apologize.
“Fuck.”
Part 2
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─ you're the sunflower ੈ✩‧₊˚
✶ pairing: miguel o'hara x fem!reader
✶ synopsis: everyone on the team loves you, expect miguel who seems to hate you more than anyone.
✶ warnings: angst!! major angst. sunshine!reader x grumpy!miguel. reader is nicknamed sunflower, mentions of death.
✶ notes: there's one spanish sentence in this, I'm not good with spanish so if I've made a mistake please tell me so i can fix it! part two is already up!!!
Everyone on the team loved you from the moment you joined, everyone, except Miguel.
You knew Miguel was cold towards everyone, but he was extra cold with you. Maybe it was because of how different your personalities were.
You were the embodiment of sunshine, always positive in any situation, putting others before yourself. Hence why everyone calls you sunflower, it fits perfectly, Miles was proud of coming up with it.
Miguel on the other hand was cold and distant but that didn't stop you from trying to get him to open up. You'd try to have simple conversations with him but nothing, all you would receive in reply was an eye roll or a slight grunt, but you wouldn't give up that easily.
Like today, you got him some coffee.
"Morning, boss. Got you some coffee." You said in your usual cheerful tone.
"Why?" He raised his eyebrows, looking down at you suspiciously. That's the most he's said to you all week.
"Because I wanted to." You shrugged, placing it down on his desk.
He steped down walking towards his desk, you couldn't help but stare at him, unfortunately for you, everything about him was so attractive, it's such a shame he hated you.
"This isn't how I like my coffee."
"Huh?" You snapped out of your daydream at the sound of his voice.
"The coffee, it tastes terrible. Get it from another place next time."
"Well, actually I made it-" But he had already walked away from you not listening to a word you said. "Alright, never mind, I'll just go back to work." You mumbled hurt by his words.
"Wait, hold on." You looked up, thinking, maybe he'll say something nice after all.
"Yeah?"
"Take the coffee with you, I won't be drinking it."
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
"Girl, why do you look so sad? Did Miguel do something again?" Jess asked with a frown, she did not like seeing you sad.
"No."
"Sunflower…"
"Okay, yes." Miguel being cold towards you was normal, he never spoke to you unless necessary. Out of everyone here, he probably hated you the most, even more than Miles.
"Sunflower, I've told you to stop trying." Jess sighed.
"I know, I know… why does he hate me so much, Jess?"
"That's just the way he is, don't overthink it. It's his loss, baby." She replied, gently patting your shoulder.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Today was going to be a good day, you were so sure of it.
But, of course, you were wrong.
Everything was going great up until a few hours ago.
Miguel had assigned you on a mission to catch an anomaly, alongside a few other spider-people. His instructions were clear, stick to the plan and catch the anomaly. It was supposed to be simple.
If only you didn't disobey him. You screwed up badly, and because of that, you could have been killed.
"Why don't you ever listen?" Miguel shouted. No one had ever seen him this angry.
"I was just tryin-"
"¡Ay, por el amor de Dios!" Being yelled at by your boss in front of your coworkers was humiliating, everyone was looking at you with pity.
"I'm sick of this, why can’t you follow simple instructions? Is it that hard to understand?" He barked, towering over you.
"It's not a big deal." You tried to keep your composure, you didn't want to humiliate yourself further by bursting into tears.
"Not a big deal? You could've died! A simple mistake would have ruined the whole mission."
Don't cry. Don't cry.
"But we're all fine, aren't we?" You weakly chuckled. That was the wrong thing to say because it only made him angrier.
"Oh? If that's the attitude you have then you shouldn't even be on the team." Ouch.
"Miguel, I think that's enough-" Hobie said, quickly jumping in.
"Not now, Hobie." He growled.
Never once did you think that you'd be in a situation like this.
"If you put more focus on trying to be good at your job, rather than impressing me, we wouldn't even be here!" Oh, so he did notice that.
At this point, tears were streaming freely down your face and you made no attempt to stop them.
"Yep, you got it, boss." You smiled up at him through your tears. It was pathetic, but you did not care, you just wanted to leave and never come back.
"Next time make sure this doesn't happen."
"It won't happen next time." That's because there won't be a next time.
#📂 ‧₊˚ my works .ᐟ#miguel o'hara#miguel o'hara x reader#spiderman across the spiderverse#across the spiderverse#spiderman atsv#spiderman x reader#spiderman#spiderman 2099#spiderman 2099 x reader#oscar isaac x reader#oscar isaac#miguel o'hara x you#miguel o'hara angst
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Horsin' around (Centaurus!Konig x fem!Reader)
Konig is exiled from his people. You are exiled from yours. Together, you make about 6 legs and a perfect pair.
Tags and CW: Size kink (duh), Centaurus!Konig(horse cocks), Konig is awkward, slight dub-con, power imbalance, belly bulge, praise kink, monster fucking.
Thanks @kneelingshadowsalome for the prompt!
AO3| Word count: 3016
Centaurus are not wild animals.
You keep repeating it to yourself as you come deeper and deeper into the forest. You keep mumbling it to yourself as you feel the eyes watching you. judging you. Centaurus are not wild animals even if sometimes they behave like one. Not like you’re any different, any better – you’re a human, invading the sacred forests. You’re a human who is dumb enough to go foraging into the depths of their territory.
Centaurus are not wild animals, but you don’t feel that repeating the same sentence over and over makes it sound any more convincing. You feel the danger in the air – with each step you take, with each fallen tree you’re stepping over. With every attempt to simply run ending up not working, you know you got lost. Long abandoned the basket you came with – you don’t recognize a single berry that grows here, not a mushroom or even some edible plant pieces to be found. This place is devoid of animals, of flowers – like something just snatched it all away. Ate it all, maybe. You don’t want to think what kind of creature could cause a migration like this.
You don’t need to think though.
Because the creature finds you first.
You yelp in a mix of surprise and horror when the arrow flies right in front of you, the skill of the archer is high enough to make the arrow cut down a few bits of hair in front of your eyes. If you were a mere millimeter closer, you’d be dead. If he wanted you dead, you’d be dead. This much is obvious.
You freeze in place, not daring to move an inch when you hear it. Loud, not even bothering to conceal the sound of it – the creature was confident enough that the prey wouldn’t run. Not the creature, you correct yourself immediately. Centaurs are not animals, they are closer to humans than a lot of other monster types – with their strength and warrior culture, you’d say that they are even more humans than citizens of the village who forced you out.
The centaur doesn’t even bother to hide himself from you, concealing the sounds of heavy hooves on the ground or evading the branches that crunched against his body. This is exactly what made you surprised when you understood that instead of a rough, but mostly handsome face that most centaurus tend to have, you’re met with a black hood which only spared two holes for the icy-blue eyes staring back at you.
Is he a grim reaper? An executioner for other centaurus? Would that mean you don’t have to worry unless your lower part resembles a horse?
You take a quick look at your bottom half. Not a horse.
Centaur reapers the gesture, looking at his bottom half too. Definitely a horse.
You decide to speak first, hoping to find words that would work just fine to be your last.
— I am really sorry for intru…
— This is not the sacrifice season yet.
Ah, well.
The people from your village believe the centaurs to be sacred – despite them being monsters they knew a lot about, they were still given sacrifices. Food, some farm animals, especially fatty pieces of meat, and fancy jewels along with some weapons. Centaurus kept the worst predators at bay, herding the wolves to be their pets and sometimes driving deer and rabbits away to the village. They kept you protected from werewolves and orcs – with a meager payment of never touching the sacred grounds.
You just stepped into the deepest, most protected part of the forest. You wonder if you would deserve a peaceful death.
— It’s not. I…I made a mistake.
No, you wanted to be here. When the village decided to drive you out, you thought that foraging in the part of the forest, untouched by humans, would be the most profitable thing. Centaurus won’t take berries anyway, right? But they might just take your life.
— A mistake?
He tilts his hooded head to the side. It’s such a boyish expression, that you almost let go of a nervous giggle. Perhaps, you were going crazy…but the centaur seemed a bit nervous. As seasoned as he looked – with battle scars covering his body and a bit of silver mixed with his ginger fur on the horse part – he seemed almost awkward standing here. Tapping one of his hooved legs like a nervous child. Squeezing the bow in his hands with vigor that made you scared he will just snap it in half.
— I just wanted to take some food.
— Is there a hunger?
— No.
— Humans aren’t allowed in these parts. Why would you go if not out of despair?
You gulp.
— I…am not allowed back.
— Why?
Because you’re a forest witch who will doom them all, according to the village of a horse people worshippers. Because you’re a monster in disguise who keeps straling babies, according to the village that uses the best pieces of food to feed the horse people who can take of themselves just fine, instead of feeding it to the orphaned children. Because you’re a whore who refuses to accept the new type of sacrifices – the virgins of the village as a breeding material for the Centaurus, according to the village filled with people who would gladly push a poor virgin out in the forest once she turned of age, so she could be mauled by horse people.
— We had…mutual disagreement.
You stare at the mighty body of the centaur. You fight the urge to get your hands down his torso, play with its short hairs, and…you were always a bit of a horse girl. Wondering if he is strong enough to lift you up and get you somewhere safe, somewhere far far away from here.
Centaur has this weird, almost boyish tone. Deep and yet, sounds just a bit deranged. Unhinged. Like he is going to maul you any second – and judging by the bow and arrow still in his hands, he might not be wrong. You lick your lips. He stares at them – or at least you think he is. Hood only reveals his eyes and you can already get lost in them. Cold, like the northern sea, Like the snow outside. You thought all mythical creatures were supposed to be warm-blooded.
— You’re exiled then.
He isn’t asking. Centaurus are omnipotent and wise, they should know about human affairs more than humans themselves. You made them into sort of gods – you shouldn’t be surprised that this guy knows way more than he should. Somehow, you still feel safer around him than other humans – and maybe, it’s more of a you problem. Maybe, you ended up eating some of the weird berries and it’s just your hallucinations before you die.
— I am.
He takes a step back. He is big – all of them are, you suppose, but, somehow, he is bigger than he should be. Giant, muscular torso on top of an already muscular and big horse part – he can pick you up, throw you, and break you with one finger, probably. No, definitely. You don’t want to give him a reason to, so you just stay in place. Hoping he wouldn’t deem your trespassing as a matter worthy of a torturous death.
— My name is König, human. Repeat, ja?
The name feels weird on your tongue. Rude, sharp. You don’t want to call him wrong and receive his wrath, so you try your best to repeat this.
— Ko-nig. Ja?
You tilt your head to the side, a curious little bird. Centaur – König, König, König – squints his eyes like he is smiling. You made the god smile. The horse god. The horseman. Just…man. If you don’t look down, where you already see something giant and heavy standing between his horse legs, you could forget that he isn’t a man at all.
Suddenly, you feel light. Suddenly, you feel your legs dangling in the air as you were picked up and bumped into the broad chest. Suddenly, you feel hands everywhere. On your ass, under it, touching your chest, your stomach, trying to get to the best position so you would stop moving constantly and trying to get out. You don’t want to fight him because you’re already in the air and falling right now could result in a broken neck – but you don’t want to be suspended in the air either. You whimper, pathetic sound escaping your lips as you feel calloused hands pressing on your mound. Traveling down your stomach and touching, squeezing, petting your delicate parts.
You spend so much time without a gentle hand or a soft touch, you can feel yourself dripping on the fingers of a centaur. Embarrassing, yes – but you know that if he were to proceed, you wouldn’t really resist.
And oh, he proceeds.
— They finally send us proper sacrifices.
He mumbles it into your hair, taking in your smell. You’re nice for a human – not scared of him too much, not trying to ran away or fight. Humans are usually just annoying insects under his hooves, but König can feel your face growing on him. Your body, too. Too weird for other Centaurus, never being able to find a proper mate who could take his lack of social awareness, he found himself mounting a human. His tribe would call him pathetic. His tribe would laugh.
Then again, he is the first to get such a delicate little gift. Who is laughing now?
You aren’t crying in his hands, and he is a bit surprised. You smell like a proper mate, like a good bitch in heat just for him – yet, you’re not falling on your knees to present your dripping cunt. You’re just trying to whimper to ask him to be gentler, and he is happy to oblige. Calm enough to listen to you. Ripping your pants apart because this is such a useless piece of clothing – concealing your rich smell from him.
König doesn’t waste any time when he dips his finger across your swollen folds. Playing with the slick running down his wrist, smiling as you are closing your eyes and pressing your head in his chest. He is strong enough to keep you suspended in the air without a care in the world. Weak human, he would have to spend so much time preparing you for him – taking his cock would be a task no sacrifice ever competed before.
König stares at your dripping pussy that is already clenching around nothing just because his fingers are pressing on the hood of your little clit, and he knows you’d be the perfect wife for him. Taking him properly as his mate, moaning as his cum fills you up. he can’t wait – knows that he should, preparing you properly. His hooves are beating the ground in impatience as his fingers slide in and out of your pussy. You spread your legs, moaning louder. Such a filthy whore for him.
— Relax, human. Be a good mate.
— This isn’t what I wa…
— Quiet. Such a good…good girl, Schatz. Will bring me strong children.
— We can’t have sex. It’s im…impossible.
You whimper, trying to squeeze your legs, to shut his hand. You only moan louder, knowing that you would accept everything he gives you, and ask for more.
You don’t want to imagine his cock entering you over and over, forcing its way past your walls and making you round and soft with his children. It’s a foreign concept – centaurus shouldn’t mate with humans, it should be physically impossible. Yet, you almost want to try. A breeding mare, made for one and only.
König gets you on…something. It isn’t exactly a natural thing – a pile of stones and trees, perfect height for you to lay your back on, with some soft leaves and animal skins to rest comfortably. His hands support you on the perfect height and you immediately know what he construction is. A mating stand. Probably for other centaurus – but you feel almost fine laying on it too. Almost normal. Your muscles sting as you try to rest your legs and then spread them wide enough for König to stay between them. He is a big guy, after all.
He turns you around, on your tummy. Ass in the air, you don’t like not seeing him. The heavy musk fills your nostrils, making you suddenly aware of what is about to happen – you’re wet, spread enough on his fingers, calloused fingertips scrubbing your gummy walls from the inside. He is fingering you with ease, but it doesn’t feel like a man with experience – he is touching and probing like he doesn’t know what he is doing and, honestly, you kinda like it. He is exploring your body with his and you moan, not caring that you sound like a whore. Humans have already abandoned you as part of society – you might as well just take it.
— I will prepare you.
— It won’t fit…
— It will, Schatzen. You’ll get used to it.
— What if I break?
— I will be careful. Trust me, ja?
Even his fingers are a bit much when he enters your body with a third digit. One, two, three – you are about to burst when he is massaging your G-spot, when he is smiling in your hair and gets you so aroused just on it alone. You’re about to cum when he slowly extracts his fingers, deeming your sloppy cunt as explored enough. Your walls are clenching around nothing, a beautiful display of desire – maybe, it was the right call that humanity abandoned you. König looks at the perfect centraius whore on display and he can’t wait to claim you. To make you his.
He is exiled from other centaurus.
You are exiled from humans.
What a beautiful fucking pair.
He enters your body slowly deliberately. Regrets it immediately – you are wonderful. Too perfect to be this slow, being soft with you is torture. Your walls accept him with a stretch, like a warm glove around his cock. Slowly shifting, softening, straddling his cock with each inch he buries in the depth of your warm, weeping cunt. He can’t touch you, as unfortunate as this is – dumb horse body is making it impossible, even looking at you is hard enough on his neck. He wants to mount you properly, but you’re simply too fucking small. Wants to touch your hair, to whisper some encouragement that human women would probably love to hear – but he can only breath heavily and enter you, one painful centimeter after the other.
— T…too much, too much, please, I can’t, it’s…
You whimper, you cry, it breaks his damned heart because you don’t deserve this. You need to be treated with care, with softness and yet, he can’t give you that. He wants so much to just put you in his arms and hug you, but that would be impossible. König will give you all the coddling in the world after you’re done. After he is sure that you received all the possible breeding and seed he could gave you.
— Quiet, human. It would be nice soon.
— It’s not…
— Touch yourself, please, bitte. I can’t…can’t touch you. But you will feel better.
Your hand goes between your legs, playing with yourself. Spreading your folds around his cock even more, fingers sliding past your clit. Touching the little button and hoping it would be enough to make you aroused – and it is. Your cunt is a mess of your own juices mixed with König’s pre cum, and you already know that you won’t be walking the next couple days.
König bottoms with a deep sigh, and you feel him in your stomach. Bulging with his giant cockhead, making the outline of his cock visible – you touch it with shock, not understanding how your organs are even in place.
He starts moving and you finally feel it – the burning pleasure setting fire in the pit of your stomach. the excess liquid pouring from your damp cunt, moans spreading from your lips. You never felt this way with a human before – then again, no human cock would ever be able to compete with König. He can reach the parts of your body that you never knew existed, and the mix of pheromones and musk is making you dizzy. Light-headed. You don’t even need to touch yourself more to feel the height of your orgasm, building in as rapidly as König’s thrusts.
In, forcing its way to hit your cervix gently, massaging the sore spots of your tight pussy.
Out, grazing over your inner walls, touching all the buttons.
In again, filling you up with his pre-cum. Moaning loud enough for the whole forest to hear.
Out, dragging you back with him, as you’re still impaled on his cock.
— S…so perfect for me. Scheisse, so pretty…
He can’t touch you and it breaks his heart. König goes to praise you instead – words feel awkward on his tongue, but he knows you need to heart it. He wants you to hear it, wants you to fee wanted, entitled. Soft. He smiles when you whimper and moan, milking him for his orgasm. Your cunt is made for him and he wants to spend every waking moment buried inside of it. Gods, you are a perfect sacrifice.
He is coming embarrassingly fast, pumping his giant cock even deeper into your pussy. Filling you up with hot cum that can’t even stay inside of your cunt. Leaking everywhere, you two are making a mess – you breath heavily, not understanding what is right and wrong anymore. Only knowing, remembering the shape of his cock. Pushing in and out, forcing its way in. God, you feel full. And ridiculous. And so, so perfect with his cock slowly starting to pump you again. And again.
Konig came embarrassingly fast, but only because this is just the first orgasm in a row. Forcing its way inside, you are overstimulated already – but you will take him, of course, obviously. You have to.
König is going to enjoy breeding a new clan out of you.
#cod#konig x reader#konig#yandere konig#cod x reader#monster!konig#yandere cod#tw: monster fucking#call of duty#konig cod#konig x you#cod konig#konig mw2#konig smut#centaur#monster fucker#monster#monster x reader#monster x you#yandere male#yandere imagines#yandere#male yandere
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special brownies [weedrry]
summary: harry and y/n accidentally eat their roommates special brownies.
warnings: mentions and use of weed (edibles), being high, swearing, kissing, biting, unprotected sex, bit of dirty talk.
word count: 2,396
a/n: i came up with this idea very randomly and i have written it as fast as i possibly could lmao anyway, the whole thing is about accidentally getting stoned, so if that makes you uncomfortable, please don't read! if it doesn't, enjoy <333
//
It’s been a long week and Y/N is feeling it. Between classes and shifts at the cafe, her feet are sore and her mind is tired. She wants nothing more than to cuddle up on the sofa with a good tv show and pass the fuck out.
And tonight is supposed to be her lucky night. Tom has a night shift and Harry has a hot date. No boys, no roommates, no interruptions.
There’s just something about knowing she’s got the flat to herself all night long, and she can lounge about like the lazy girlie her heart yearns to be.
She starts with a long, relaxing her aching body in the hot soapy water until her skin begins to prune. Y/N takes extra time to moisturise her body and brush her hair. Even treats herself to a face mask while she does so.
When she leaves the bathroom, it’s almost 7 p.m. and Tom has already left for work. The apartment is clean, and most importantly, quiet.
She’s a bit too excited in her movement to the sofa, a squeal slipping from her lips. Too caught up in her head, she doesn’t notice Harry leaning against his bedroom door, arms folded across his chest.
It’s not until he clears his throat that Y/N jumps out of her little happy dance with a scream. A smirk sits on his lips, amused by the way she scowls at him.
“What the hell are you doing here! You’re supposed to be out on a date!”
Her tone is accusing, pointer finger jabbing at the air in his direction. She notices his attire; grey shorts and a white hoodie. Y/N’s shoulders slump.
“You have got to be kidding me,” she huffs.
“What? I thought you liked hanging out with me?” Harry follows her to the sofa, sitting on the opposite end of her.
Y/N crosses her arms furiously. “I do! But I was so excited to have the flat to myself for just one night.”
Harry’s brows are raised suggestively, that sick fucking smirk on his lips again. Y/N lunges a pillow at his face. “Not for those reasons, you perv.”
He barks out a laugh, hugging the pillow close to his chest as he props his feet up and on Y/N’s lap. He watches how her bottom lip pouts out and his face softens.
“Look, if you want me to fuck off out for the evening, I can.” Harry offers.
She scoffs. “That is what you were supposed to be doing.” A moment of silence passes and she sighs. “Sorry, that came out rude. I'm not about to kick you out of your own flat – though I am going to force you to watch the last three episodes of The Rookie with me.”
Harry makes no attempt to hide the groan that follows her words. It’s not that he doesn’t like the show, it’s that he hates the show. He’ll never understand Y/N’s weird obsession with emergency services.
First, it was Criminal Minds, then a month later she binge watched 9-1-1 Lone Star in six days. Now she’s on the newest season of The Rookie and he’s sure she only started season one at the beginning of the month?
“Do we have to?” he grumbles.
Y/N throws another pillow at him. “Yes. You’re the one interrupting my night, you could at least do it quietly… and with snacks.”
Her voice trails off at the end of her sentence and Harry has to bite back a grin. She could never be mad at Harry, she loves him and his company far too much. Tom, on the other hand… yeah, she would definitely be mad if it was him crashing her lazy girl night.
Harry stands from the sofa, wandering through to the kitchen. He grabs two bottles of water in one hand and scans his eyes through the cupboards in search for a suitable snack.
They’ve not been shopping for a few days, so there’s only some dry crackers, a half-eaten bag of cashew nuts (ew, Tom), and granola. Harry contemplates ubering some cookies and milkshakes when his eyes land on a bakery box on top of the microwave.
He squints as he reads the writing on the top of the box.
Tom’s. DO NOT EAT!
Harry flips the lid, six thick slices of dewey chocolate brownies. They’re like fucking slabs… he’s sure Tom won’t mind if he and Y/N share just one between them.
He pops a (massive) slice on a plate and toddles back to the kitchen. The show is paused on the opening scene, Y/N shuffled to get comfortable on the sofa. She raises a brow at the snack in question.
“We’re sharing a brownie?”
Harry huffs as he sits. “S’all we’ve got in the kitchen, and they’re Tom’s. Didn’t wanna take the piss when his little sticky note clearly says DO NOT TOUCH!”
Y/N snorts, breaking the brownie in half and handing Harry the bigger slice. She takes a bite, face screwing slightly.
“These taste a little funny… nutmeg, maybe?”
She turns to Harry who doesn’t say anything and still hasn’t taken the brownie. The look on his face irks her. She huffs, swallowing. “I feel bad that your date cancelled on you.”
His eyebrows almost raise to his hairline. “And what makes you think she was the one to cancel?”
“Was she?” Y/N asks.
Harry takes the brownie with a sigh. “Yeah.”
//
They can’t stop fucking giggling.
The show is long forgotten about, has been for the past thirty minutes. They’re both feeling warm. Harry stripped from his jumper and Y/N changed into some little shorts and one of Harry’s baggy t-shirts.
Neither of them know where this amusement came from, but there is absolutely no calming either of them down. They’re sneakily sharing a second slice of Tom’s brownies; eyes on the door in case for some reason, he comes home an hour after his shift has started.
“They taste so weird, but I can’t stop eating it.”
Harry chokes out a laugh, eyes welling with tears because he just finds Y/N so fucking funny tonight.
She’s a mess too, eyes squinted and shoulders hunched as she laughs uncontrollably. They’re both crossed-legged on the living room floor, knees knocking gently.
The more she chews, the more she begins to recognise that unfamiliar taste… the way it lingers on her tongue. Her laughter slows for a moment, as if realisation is beginning to dawn on her.
She stares at Harry with wide eyes and parted lips, mouth still full.
“Oh, my god.”
“What?”
“They’re fucking weed brownies!”
Harry can’t breathe, struggles to look away from the fear and shock on Y/N’s face. His whole body begins to shake with laughter and Y/N finds herself following.
“Harry, it’s not funny!” she shrieks. “This is so bad, Harry.”
She’s laughing through her words. Even she can’t take herself seriously in this state.
“D’you wanna play Just Dance?”
Harry’s words only make her laugh harder. The remainder of her brownie is thrown at his naked torso. Harry wastes no time to tackle her to the ground, hovering between her legs as he tickles her sides.
He's blowing raspberries on her neck, eliciting loud cackles from her mouth. Y/N tugs at his hair, her legs flailing around his hips when he nips at the skin on her throat.
They don’t say anything. She continues to chuckle, and Harry continues to bite.
Their laughter has fizzled out into breathy giggles. Neither of them are sure when Harry’s bites turned into kisses. When their fingers became intertwined. When her legs closed around his middle.
And neither of them say a fucking thing about it.
Harry’s lips travel up her neck and across her jaw. She finds his mouth feverishly, nothing but tongue and teeth but to the pair of them, it’s the best kiss they’ve ever had.
They’re needy, hot and wanton all of a sudden. Like a switch has been flipped and they’re clinging to one another like lifelines.
Harry holds her hands above her head, fingers tangled. He’s hard, rock hard. Pressing into Y/N’s tiny fucking shorts so much he’s sure he can feel her arousal through both of their clothes.
He ruts against her, testing the waters. The moan he receives sends all blood down south. He’s always known sex to be incredible when you’re high. The thought of him sharing it with her? God, he could bust there and then.
He releases her hands so he can feel up her thighs, skin hot and smooth. Their lips don’t separate, not once. She lets her hands fall into his curls, nails scratching at his scalp and she tugs at the roots.
Harry’s moaning into her mouth, eager and desperate for more. He takes her shorts off quickly and strategically. So quickly that she doesn’t notice until she feels a cool breeze between her thighs.
Y/N’s eyes roll to the back of her head, more than ready for whatever the fuck he wants to do to her.
They haven’t hesitated, not once. Not until Harry's hands are at the waistband of his shorts and he wonders if he should grab a condom or just go down on her. He knows she’s on the pill, just like they both know they’re both clean.
Harry gets tested once a month and Y/N doesn’t sleep around.
She answers his inner turmoil for him and tugs his shorts down the best she can. Harry breaks the kiss for a split second to tug his shorts to his knees. He’s back to kissing her as quickly as he pulled away, tongue against hers. Hot and messy.
Y/N feels his tip twitch against her clit, an airy sigh echoing into Harry’s mouth. He lets his fingers swirl around her wetness, smearing it across her smooth cunt and coating his thick shaft in her arousal.
They’re panting messes, eager, desperate and horny.
When he lines himself at her entrance, she locks her legs around his waist. Harry bumps forward, a shrill cry slipping from between their lips at the sensation of one another.
Harry wants to give her a moment to adjust, but Y/N doesn’t. She wants it hot and hard. She wants the pain. She wants to feel every fucking inch of him.
She probably should’ve warned Harry how she gets when she’s high. How much of a whiny, cock-hungry whore she can become. Then again, how was she supposed to know they’d accidentally eat their roommates special brownies?
“Jesus fucking Christ.” Harry chokes as he bottoms out.
Y/N’s struggling to catch her breath but she’s never loved the burn in her lungs more. “Fuck me, H.”
He twitches inside her. “Fuck me hard.”
His hips begin to roll, cock nuzzling itself deep inside her. He can feel everything. Every bump, dip, swell. God, she’s fucking soaked, leaking down to the floor but neither of them care.
Harry slowly begins to quicken his pace, arms bent at the elbows either side of Y/N’s head to prop himself up. She doesn’t loosen her legs around his hips. She needs him as close as he can possibly get.
Even his cock buried to the brim in her cunt isn’t enough. She needs his soul touching hers.
“You’re so fucking tight.”
“Yeah?” she breathes. “You gonna fuck my tight cunt, baby? Fuck me like you own me.”
He can’t believe his fucking ears. He’s always found Y/N attractive, but never in his wildest fucking dreams did he expect her to be this goddamn filthy.
Harry loves it.
His thrusts grow harsher. She has no time to catch her breath between hits, her mouth in a constant state of slack – eyes rolled back and eyebrows pinched.
“My perfect little cunt.” Harry seethes.
The noises of her pussy are like electric waves in Harry’s ears. He feels them in his soul, like sparks and jolts. He’s never felt more alive.
He’s fucking into her manically. Behind closed eyes all he can see shapes and colours of need and desire. Sex has always been good, always been great high. But this? Fuck, he’s never felt something so otherwordly.
He never wants it to end, wants to spend the rest of his life fucking her like a whore. She’s tugging his hair, likely making his scalp bleed but he loves it. He’d bleed a fucking river just to feel her cunt around him again.
“I’m gonna come!”
Her words awaken something animalistic within Harry. Like his life depends on feeling her release around him – like it’s what he was born to experience.
He chases her high, nipping and suckling on her neck, fucking into her cunt as fast as his restrained hips will allow. Y/N’s a blubbering mess, a sight Harry never wants to forget.
Fuck, he doesn’t think he could if he tried. This will forever be etched into his mind – her face, her body, her perfect cunt. Jesus, he’s never been so into sex in his life.
Her body begins to tremble uncontrollably, legs locked tight around his middle as she cries his name and pours over him.
Harry’s gruff and desperate moans mix with hers. She’s impossibly tighter, squeezing him; begging him to never let her feel anything but full ever again.
Harry wants to die buried in her cunt.
It takes every single fucking ounce of willpower he has to pull out and release across her thighs – painting the filthiest picture anyone could imagine.
It’s a struggle for either of them to catch their breaths. Hot and heavy panting that soon turns into light laughter, that even sooner, turns into contagious giggles.
Their bodies shake with every chuckle, Harry’s mouth ghosting hers until he nips on her bottom lip.
“We are never to talk about this, understood?”
He grins widely. “Whatever you want, Princess.”
She hums, eyes full of lust. Harry’s still achingly hard, despite coming more than he ever has before. He dips his head to her neck, sucking at her soft skin. His cock twitches against her thigh and she breathes deeply, blinks slowly.
“You wanna go again?” his voice is muffled by her neck.
She grins, legs wrapping back around his middle.
“Whatever you want, baby.”
#harry styles#harry styles imagine#harry styles smut#harry styles x you#harry styles x reader#imagine harry styles#harry styles oneshot#harry styles fluff#harry styles fic#harry styles angst
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onyankapon x blackfemreader!
Genre: Sexy Hot Nasty Ass Smut
“Mmph!” Your eyes roll back as rough big hands held over your mouth, fingers sliding off the white clean sink and your thigh almost slipping off of it. Your foot that was on the floor and still in your pink marc jacob slides curl and grip on it. “Shut that shit up right now.” A slap was made to your ass cheek and you cry out through his spit covered fingers. Your back was arched and you open your eyes to look in the bathroom mirror.
Onyankapon stands there thrusting ruthlessly in your fat tight cunt, one hand covering your mouth as the other held your thigh that was on top of the sink in place, your short white nails gripping the sink and one hand falls to ony’s lower stomach, you moan and thankful his hand around your mouth was holding you back cause your face would have fallen on the mirror. “O-ony pleaseuuhhh” your voice is muffled and quiet, “what i say huh?” Gold one row grill sitting on his pretty white teeth as he spoke angrily in your ear. Hand now on your neck and his other hand smacking your thigh harshly.
Tears started to form and now he moved closer, chin on your shoulder and he thrusted up, circling his hips into you like he hated you. You almost thought he did until he moaned loudly when your pussy tightened up, signaling your upcoming orgasm. “Y-you always fuckin- shit. Always playin with me like you don’t give a fuck.” His hand on your neck tightened, your thighs shook and you made eye contact with him in the mirror.
“I don’t give a fuck, a-about your damn commitment issues. You hear me?” The hand that was on your neck smacks your cheek lightly to make sure you were listening, you gasp and whine “y-yes ony ohmygosh. please please, i-im so sorry hnnn.” You didn’t mean to ghost ony for a week, you just got so detached from your phone you forgot someone actually cared for you and wanted to speak to you all the time and make sure you were okay. You hear him grumbling on the side of you but you just couldn’t think.
First he kisses your shoulder, then your cheek and neck. He turns your head towards him so you guys can go in for a sloppy kiss, exchanging moans all while he deep in your tummy. “Pussy so good and y-you was finna leave me hm? Make me feel so fuckin good mama.”
You’re gonna fucking cum.
The way he looks at you with low eyes and the way he rasp his sentences.
“Ony” it was different…this orgasm was different. You felt like crying and it was so hard to breath. Your lips formed a pout and you felt your eyes burning with tears .. “nghhh shit w-wait pa ohmygoshhhh wait!”
“Now you want me to wait? Thought you was working for that nut? Cum on that shit, make my shit more wet baby.” Oh and you fucking did. Thighs shaking and you were whining so fucking loud. “P-pa hnnnn daddy fuuck pl-please i c-can’t stop-“ you were making such a big mess, squirting on the sink and it drips in the floor, hearing the plop plop plop. And your cunt was so fucking tight! “Uhn shit.” Ony gasp.
And the unnecessarily loud squelching. Ony was looking down at your pretty two toned pussy, speading your pussy lips from behind to capture your wetness and creaminess. He bites his lips and closes his eyes as his head leaned back “mhhm” he mumbles and started beating your shit up for a quick second. “Imma cum mama… cum in this nasty ass pussy, f-fuck baby.” His hips staggered and he moved his face towards your moaning neck. Kissing and groaning up in it ass his bust his load into you.
Both breathing heavy and high on sex.
“Do that shit again and it’s gonna be worse.”
#onyankopon smut#ony x black reader#onyankopon x black y/n#onyankopon x reader#aot onyankopon#onyankapon#aot x reader#aot smut#aot x y/n#aot x black reader#smut#black woman#black fem reader#black reader
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Hi dear, how are you?, could you write an imagine onde reader mentioning offhand how much she would love a whole family. Four, maybe six children? Girls and boys split right down the middle, but the second Miguel hears this (maybe the reader is on the phone, or talking to lyla. or someone at HQ) and Miguel loses his mind
1) Miguel can't help himself and he would grab you and put you on the mattress for a very long time...... or
2) torture himself for two weeks before telling her why he was avoiding her please.
HIHIHI BREEDING BARK BARK (sorry this took so long to write anon zehfrfgh i pulled an all nighter to make this one so also forgive me if there are some mistakes in this gksffgjgbf)
summary : miguel learns you want kids, a lot of kids, so he breeds you
content warnings : SMUT (18+) minors dni, pnv sex - unprotected (be safe kids), breeding kink, soft!dom miguel, obsessive!miguel, no use of Y/N, fem!reader
word count : 3,2k
tag list : @fandom-ash @haradasaya
Miguel was on his way to see you. He'd heard that you were back from your mission and that everything had gone well, so he'd come to get you to take you out for lunch.
He was taking advantage of the little free time he had to visit you, even though he would obviously pass this visit off as work-related in everyone's eyes. He had to always, always remain professional and keep everything under control so that everybody could do their bit.
"Six?!" asked Jess, the word choking in her throat.
Well, you were indeed back with Jess.
"Mhm, six," you affirmed as you both busied yourselves filing a report.
What were they talking about? He leaned against a wall. He knew it wasn't very polite to eavesdrop, but the word got around here. Most of society's building had cameras, and everything that was often said or done was recorded here.
He just wanted to listen to you, wondering if there were any topics of conversation that you weren't having with him and with the other spiders. Yes, he was manic, and probably a little too obsessive.
In any case, he wondered what you could have said to Jessica to make her exclaim like that.
"The more the merrier," you laughed softly.
"I hate this sentence so much," sighed Jess.
"Why so?" your voice was sincerely interrogative.
"In this context, it's really not my preferred idiom one might say," she replied as Miguel heard her tapping on a pad to enter more information.
What on earth could they be talking about? he wondered. What subject could suggest that six was far too high a number for Jess's judgement? He knew that Jess was an oragnised woman like himself, with a lot of tact and a fair amount of authority.
Was it perhaps a consecutive number of days doing an activity? Six days of marathon running might have been a bit much, but six days' holiday was never too much. He breathed in very softly, it had been years since he'd had time for such a thing. Did you want to take him on a holiday? If so, the number of days was inordinate. He would never be able to get away from his work for more than three days.
Maybe it was something else then. What was too much in Jess's mind with six?
Six empanadas perhaps? Miguel would obviously disagree. You can never have enough empanada for his taste. But Jess would probably disapprove.
Six... Six pets? It's true that having six pets might be a bit of an exaggeration, at least in Miguel's eyes of course.
Perhaps six books? No, that didn't make sense. Although Jess wasn't a huge reader, she did have a book in her hands from time to time.
So what was it? He was intrigued, that's for sure.
"You know, in my opinion, one kid is already way too much to handle," she sighed, "but six ? Nah, that's some good way of ending your life while still being alive."
But Miguel had barely heard the rest of the sentence, his mind having been caught by a single word: kid. He immediately froze, his heart skipping a beat.
Kid, like... children ? Like, actual human beings ? Small human beings ?
His eyes were wide, his mouth parted. No, he must not have heard correctly, although he dreamed that it was indeed that word that had been uttered.
"Why not? Surrounding ourselves with life is good," you said softly. "I'd love to see six little heads running around. I want three of each, three girls and three boys."
He wasn't mistaken: the discussion was really about the number of children you wanted. Six, he thought, six, six, the word echoing in his mind. He put both his hands on his hips, as if to hold on to something.
He pictured you, your rounded belly, stroking the hair of a child, your child, his child... both your children.
He swallowed, however, as another, immensely more tantalising vision took hold of his mind.
The vision of your cunt, glistening with your desire as from between its lips dripped little by little his own cum, his own seed leaking from you, your belly full of him...
It made his dick twitch for a hot second, and he couldn't remove that image, he didn't want to get rid of that image. The idea that your belly could be full of him, that he could breed you until he had no strength left was magnificent.
"What an egalitarian spirit," Jess noted wryly, "Well, it's all in order."
His thoughts were riveted on the image. He could almost hear in his own mind the sweet melody your moans would make as he came inside you again.
No, it was now impossible for him to think about anything else, he told himself that maybe he shouldn't be thinking about this. Except it's a well-known fact that if you tell someone not to think about something, they'll think about it.
He knew what breeding was, obviously, but what about you? Did you even have a clue what it was?
He tried to pull himself together, he had to either leave here or come towards you and pretend to come naturally. Would he be able to hold it together and act as if nothing had happened? Did he really have a choice in the matter after all? He breathed in, tightening his jaw as he decided to come towards you.
He walked purposefully, his usual grumpy face set surprisingly naturally as he advanced towards you.
"Ah, you're back," he sighed as if pleasantly surprised to see you both here, "how was the mission?"
"Excellent," Jess affirmed, "we've just finished the report, the anomaly has been taken care of as it should have been since we arrived."
He nodded, his serious face opening a control pad to check what she was saying and opening the file in question, pretending to read its contents. He had the impression that everywhere he looked the image came right back to him, on every tile, on every screen, everywhere in his mind.
"That's good work," he breathed.
"Damn right," nodded Jess. " Well, I'm off to join my own little demon, take care you two."
"See ya," you replied as she headed for the exit.
He wondered by what superhuman strength he managed to remain unwavering and stoic.
You moved closer to him, hugging his back and comforting yourself in the embrace.
"How was your day?" you asked, squeezing him in your arms.
Unwavering and stoic, Miguel, you have to remain unwavering and stoic.
You put your hands on his body, and with one touch his concentration was simply wiped out.
He turned to you, smiling a strange, uncertain smile as he stroked your hair, a little tense.
"You know how it is, just a lot of work," but his eyes were watching yours strangely, a flash of a vision where they were filled with desire looking back at him.
You studied him for a moment, noticing how distracted he seemed, his eyes looking at you in a strange way. You could feel a kind of desire there, a kind of longing, but you couldn't work out what it was.
"Is... everything alright?"
He shuddered, obviously his little show wasn't going to last much longer. He broke away from your embrace, he couldn't keep looking at you like that.
"Hey," you said softly, "you know you can tell me everything, right?"
Could I tell you this ? he wondered. He looked at you for a moment, another flash of you all moaning and covered in hickeys and marks on your body as you breathed his name. He looked away, closing his eyes in the hopes the flashes would stop.
"I'm afraid I cannot speak about this..."
But how he wanted to speak about this, to tell you how much he wanted to fuck you until you were full of him, until the only thing present in your mouth was his name and how much he wanted to see the sight of your round belly.
But you wouldn't listen to his silence. So you walked over to him and took his hand.
"Miguel, look at me. you asked, and he looked at you, his visions mingling with the reality where you were looking at him, worried. "Tell me."
He sighed. He couldn't run away from his ideas forever, run away from these images that he wanted to see in reality and not just in his mind. He wanted to raise his idea from the theoretical to the practical, and it was with an almost guilty breath that he admitted:
"I want to breed you."
There was a slight silence, his eyes plunged into yours, desperate to know what you were thinking. But above all he was met with confusion.
"What's breeding?" You had an idea of the term, usually used animalistically for the subject of... reproduction and maintenance of species. But just to be on the safe side with Miguel, you preferred to ask him anyway.
His lungs swelled like sails, did he really have to go through this?
"Why don't you ask Lyla what it is?" he suggested.
"Because I want to hear it from you, with your words" you assured him, your tone a mixture of strictness and curiosity.
He sighed, biting the inside of his cheek, slightly afraid of your reaction. You were practically hanging on his every word, waiting for him to explain.
"Breeding is... the act of a male and a female animal having sex, also known as mating, to reproduce..." he explained, pausing, "and procreate."
Your eyes widened slightly, and the possibility that he had overheard your previous conversation with Jess came to mind. All the same, you looked at him almost inscrutably, and he couldn't work out what you were thinking.
But now that the words had been said, he could no longer hide, no, he no longer had to hide. His thoughts were finally out, burning on his skin and lips.
He moved forward a little more, his gaze suddenly darkened by the desires he was no longer hiding.
"I want to fill you up with my cum and make sure you get pregnant."
Your lips were parted, your surprised eyes looking into his, black with desire and longing. A silence filled the air, both your hearts beating loudly in both your bodies. Miguel waited for an answer, unaware of the warm cloud that had settled in your lower belly.
He chuckled a little, an understanding smile gracing his lips as he said:
"See, your silence tells me enoug-"
"Breed me," you cut him off.
He stopped moving immediately, the statement immobilising him just like when he had understood what you and Jess were talking about.
Had his mind and his fantasies come together to play tricks on him? Or had you actually agreed with what he'd just said?
"What?" he said, his pronunciation almost slurred as he turned his attention to your next words.
"Breed me, Miguel" you repeated, determined as you swallowed in anticipation. "I want to carry you... in me."
The gleam in his eyes was almost predatory, but after all, wasn't that the very essence of breeding? The raw nature of it, the bestiality, the quenching of the oldest instinct that ever was.
You only had time to see his eyes turn red as he lunged for your lips, kissing you with his mouth wide open as your teeth almost clashed and he attacked your tongue.
The power with which he kissed you made you take a step backwards, but you weren't going anywhere, because Miguel immediately placed his hand in the small of your back to make sure he had you close to him.
He let out grunts between kisses, his hunger for your skin lengthening his canines as they brushed almost dangerously against your tongue.
Then he lifted you in one swift movement, placing you on his shoulder as he headed for the door leading to his quarters, his impatience growing faster than ever. You bit your lip, already swollen from his kisses, his hand gripping your thigh firmly as he led you to the bed.
He laid you down, following every movement of your body as he kissed you again. He stood back for a moment, watching your body.
"Do you have sentimental value for your suit?"
"What?" you asked, confused by the sudden question.
"Just answer," he asked through clenched teeth.
"I mean it's old but I can live withou-"
You hadn't even finished your sentence when he ripped off your suit with an ease that sent shivers down your spine, ripping the fabric covering your cunt, tearing your panties and throwing all the rags into the rest of the room.
"No questions about the sentimental value of my underwear?" you laugh lightly.
"I'll get you some new ones," he breathed, a carnivorous sneer inhabiting his lips, "I'll take great care in chosing them."
You swallowed as he kissed your neck, nestling in and marking your skin with thirst. He straightened to kiss your lips, and whispered against them:
"Turn over, get down on your elbows and knees".
You complied, his instructions increasing the size of the cloud of heat in your belly. You placed your folded arms flat on the sheets, your knees slightly apart.
"Lift your hips for me, nena," he commanded in a tone as soft as cotton.
You listened, arching your back as you lifted your hips, your ass gloriously up just for him to fuck. He swallowed, his hand coming to grip one of your buttocks and pulling it apart, pressing it between his fingers and gripping your skin full hand.
"Already so good and wet for me," he mused, one of his fingers passing between your folds.
Of course you were already wet, the way he had introduced the concept to you making you all fuzzy and warm in your belly. You'd never been against the idea of Miguel being a bit more violent, and to be honest you were excited by the idea of him being so from now on.
Once he'd coated himself sufficiently, he pushed one finger into you, soft moans falling from your lips filling the room. He added another one, and your lust was growing by the second. You were getting impatient too, but you couldn't help noticing that Miguel simply couldn't wait any longer.
Miguel was always very keen about taking his time, preparing you well apart from the few moments when one of you needed a quicky, but here eagerness was getting the better of him, and above all his most instinctive desires buried deep inside him had taken the reigns of all his actions.
The thought of him being in you through your core made him feel so drunk on you. These ideas had already been marinating in his mind for a while, it had only taken this conversation between you and Jess to flip the switch. And he observed in adoration, seeing you like this, underneath him with your much smaller frame, sitting up and ready to take him.
"Hands behind your back."
His orders became more and more urgent, his tone wavering with envy. It was impossible for him to formulate a whole sentence.
So you laid your face on the sheets, cheek pressed to your side as you brought your hands behind your back, joining your wrists together like you were imagining yourself handcuffed. You shivered as his hand, whose fingers had previously been inside you, reached out from between your folds and took both your wrists at the same time, locking them in this embrace. His hand was obviously big enough to hold both your wrists together and prevent you from breaking free from his grip.
He had locked you completely.
He had blocked out any possibility of you making a move other than squirming around him. Miguel would never tire of this control, this hold he had over you right now. You were his, nobody else's, and he would let eveybody know this by fucking his seed into you and get as many babies as you wanted.
That's when you felt the head of his dick coating itself with your juices, preparing to burry himself into you. You couldn't see Miguel like this, but you could hear him. Dark growls vibrated in his throat, deeper than you'd ever heard them before, and it felt intimidating.
He thrust, pushing his tip into you, and you let out a groan of relief that sank into the fabric of the sheets. You breathed softly, letting Miguel's thick, long cock sink into you. No matter how many times you had done it, taken him like that, you still couldn't get used to it.
His lower belly finally touched the skin of your ass, his dick deep inside you. And you felt him pressing against your stomach. You knew that if you brought one of your hands to your stomach, you'd feel the shape of his cock against your skin.
He was so deep in you, an almost bestial growl escaped him as he slowly began to pull back before thrusting in hard.
You let out a little cry of surprise and pleasure that echoed around the room, and he repeated the same gesture. He kept bearing down on you until he touched your slick on his lower belly and pulling away, pushing back in the next second until it'd touch his balls.
Your body was burning, unable to do anything but arch your back more and groan. Your hands were gripping the void, and the impossibility of finding a foothold in all this was making you feel out of control. But you were enjoying the sensations he was giving you, and so was he.
He listened to the symphony of your voice as he picked up the pace, the feeling of your gummy walls wrapping all tight and warm around him was absolute perfection to him.
He knew it wouldn't be long before his first cum would hit, but he needn't have worried. Miguel could go on for a long, long time, and he just hoped that you could keep up, although he had no doubt that his best girl would live up to his expectations.
He could no longer string a sentence together properly, the words he was trying to whisper as he sank deep inside you coming out as if chewed up by his long fangs.
He grunted, his rhythm and the tilt of your two bodies giving you both exceptional sensations. The knot in your stomach tightened, threatening to burst as Miguel came closer.
And the world stopped spinning for a second.
You came together, your walls closing spasmodically around him as you felt him spill into you. Because that's what you wanted, right ? That's the one thing you desired, and he was going to give it to you entirely.
He pulled out, just for the pleasure of seeing the work he had so long dreamed of seeing. And the satisfaction was superb, his white creamy cum slowly pouring out of your wet cunt, still pulsing with desire.
A dark laugh rose from his throat as he sank back into you and you let out a startled moan. He lowered himself, his lips pressing against your ear.
"I hope you thought of six names."
It would be a long, long night.
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doin’ time - C. Fisher
masterlist!
mentions of: cussing, makeouts, smut… 18+ MDNI. fem receiving (fingering), cum play, piv unprotected (wrap b4 u tap)
synopsis: at the empty house party you play a quick game of cat and mouse with conrad
wc: 3.5k
a/n: i haven’t proofread this yet
gif from @thatonekimgirl
the purple pink and blue strobe lights that Conrad, Belly, and Jeremiah bought at Paty City made you look like you were glowing. the party was 70's theme and you were dressed in a lime green mini dress with gogo boots, you teased your hair to have a bump paired with a white headband. you had a graphic black liner and you felt beautiful. you were with Cam at the dj booth. you and Cam have always been close, you guys were touchy, but you never liked him, nor did he to you. in fact he told you about his feelings for Skye which you applauded to because you wanted him to be happy.
"can you guys play" Jumper the one who allowed Belly to buy the liquor started his sentence. which was cut off when Skye pointed at the "fuck the requests" sign they made
"sorry the sign speaks" you say sitting next to Cam at a random table
"but" Jumper continues
"respect the playlist" Cam cuts Jumper off with that he walks away from his attempt
"Steven curated this playlist with great intent" Skye says making it sound like a great medicine that could cure all diseases
"to make boys get bitches" you say jokingly which was true you saw four guys within 30 minutes pull a girl upstairs
"rest in peace to their backs" Cam jokes since there were no beds in the house to have sex comfortably with
"so how are you and Conrad" Skye asks you
"what do you mean" it was out of the blue, you didn't know what they were talking about
"y/n you can't be that clueless" Cam pokes at you making you squirm
"i seriously don't know what your guys' game is right now" you say searching their eyes
"he so very obviously likes you" Skye says
"you have some nerve Skye" you say mocking them since they are also in a similar situation with Cam
"what does that mean" Cam asks
"nothing" Skye and you say in unison
"all im saying is that man is smitten with you" Skye says making Cam nod his head in agreement
"yeah right since when" you say taking a sip from your coke
"since you and I got close last summer, he got really stiff and would clench his jaw when we would hold each others hand or even when i had my hand around your waist, his whole mood would switch" Cam says pointing all the times Conrad has been tense
"all those times Belly would walk into the room" you rebuttal Cam’s so very wrong analysis.
"ehhh wrong" both Cam and Skye said in the same time making you laugh at how alike they are
"i've ran tests and experiments, that man always sits next to you and looks for your vote in a decision," Skye says
"fuck you both" you say flipping them off
"time and place" Cam says at lightning speed
"i don't want to get scoliosis" you mock the previous joke you said before
"don't think that's how it works" Skye retorts but nonetheless they laughed as well
"hey y/n let's get a picture" Steven says pulling you away from the two others as Conrad was hiding behind him
"yeah sure" you say hopping off the table saying you'll be right back to the others
as you were following the two boys through the groups of sweaty highlighter bodies you were almost lost and by each step the gap between you and Conrad grew bigger. he looked right behind and saw what was happening. he extended his hand out so the gap would close and you grabbed on. you walked until you were at the bottoms steps of the staircase. surprisingly there was nobody there
"ok stand right there" Steven says as he was looking through the polaroid lens
"did you set this up" you whisper in Conrad's ears as you tiptoe
"no" he says flustered
"he's lying" Steven says making you shocked by his good hearing
"good" you say as you smile wide for the camera as you try your hardest to give Conrad bunny ears. you wait for the flash but Steven takes his time. you could feel Conrad's eyes on you. as well as his arm snake around your waist. were they right? did Conrad really like you? as you get out of your own head you finally get the bright white flash from the camera making this go by faster
"let me see" Conrad says as if he was out of his spell and going over to Steven to see the photo, but the thing about Polaroids is that you have to wait a moment to see the photo develop
"stay with me" Conrad says grabbing you by the waist to take you to the bottom of the stairs and sit
"ok" it wasn't like he asked you to stay it was a demand and you weren't mad about it
"I'm going to find Taylor" Steven says as he walks away
"wear a condom" you scream
"fuck off" Steven screams back
"so how are you and Cam" Conrad asks through gritted teeth
"he's good, going to see if Skye already asks him out" you say trying to slide the fact that you and Cam aren't dating
"oh, I thought you two were a thing" Conrad says trying his hardest to bite back his smile
"no, we're just really close" you say meeting his blue eyes that were now dark with a glint in his eye
"cool" he says not knowing what else to say
"cooool" you say not knowing how to carry the conversation
"yeah" was the only thing muttered from Conrad
"why cool" you say trying to see his thought process
"cool in the fact i spent all of last summer wasting my time with Nicole, no offense to her she's cool, just wanted to talk to you" he says searching your eyes to see if he struck a nerve
"you're cute, dumb and oblivious, but cute" you say as your hand goes to his hair and push it to his ear, making him almost pur to your touch
"i'm the oblivious one" he says in a confused and questionable way
"yes, I'm the one talking to you" you say in the same tone
"you clearly never looked my way" he says pointing at your chest
"bullshit" you say leaning against the railing
"everyone else picked up on it" Conrad says
"ok fine, i was the oblivious one" you say surrounding "give me the photo" you say as enough time has passed so it would be devloped
"what would you give me if i do" Conrad whispered lustfully which caught you off guard
"pfft nothing" you says as you extend your arm to get the photo from his other side
"than no" he says grabbing the photo and extending his arm backwards so you couldn't reach it
"fuck your long arms" you say climbing over his lap and trying to grab the photo which made your boobs hit his face making him kiss them "oh shit my bad" you say retracting back to your previous seat
"no" Conrad says wrapping his arms around your waist to keep you on his lap
"oh" you say as you see Conrad lean in for a kiss and you go in, letting all your muscles relax and allow you to really enjoy this kiss, both your hands on each side of Conrad's face as his are trained on your waist and tangled in your hair
"i really like you" he says pulling away from the kiss to look up at your face seeing how swollen your lips have already gotten
"good, because i like you too" you say smiling at the fact some of your pink lipgloss got on his lips "let me see the photo" you says looking deep into Conrad's eyes as he hands the photo to you
it was you the highest you could possibly go on your tiptoes to give Conrad the bunny ears, but even than you could barely see your fingers. your face was looking straight at the camera with the most derpiest smile you could plaster on. he on the other hand was looking deep into you, he wanted to savor the moment of how you looked while someone takes a picture of you, no one ever does that, their main priority was to look at the lens. and even now as you look deep into the photo and analyze it. Conrad is looking at you seeing how you take something as small as a picture and critique it
"why are you looking at me in this" you say flipping the photo to him
"i don't know" he says, but he was obvlously lying, you could tell he was lying when he says those three words
"you're a liar" you say as you go in for a quick kiss which makes Conrad excited, but you quickly pull away
"booo" he says like a seven year
"not until you tell me the truth" you say looking deep into his eyes as he eyes your lips to make sure he catches everything over the loud music and also because he wants to continue kissing you
"i never get to be that close to you and i really liked you and thought you were dating Cam so I had to take advantage of my time with you" he blurts everything out ready to kiss you again
"awe" you say clapping both of your hands to your face making Conrad pull you into a kiss by grabbing you by the back of your head
"get a fucking room" Jeremiah says to the both of you
"we'll take yours asshole" Conrad says jokingly
"ewww gross" he says walking down the hall
"do you want to" Conrad says trying not to push anything, but he did really want you, but he wouldn't say anything because he didn't want to sway your vote
"umm sure" you say putting a piece of hair behind your ear
“here follow me” Conrad says as he carrie’s you off his lap so you could stand and than he got up.
he grabbed your hand in his and led you up the stairs. you were close with Belly so you knew enough about the house layout. but it was all empty now so it felt odd and anything but a home. it was just a house now. his room was empty. you tried to picture having a good comfortable time but you couldn’t. he could see the expression all written on your face.
“we could use a floaty” he says scratching the back of his head
“and pop it” you laugh thinking of the idea of doing it only to pop it in the middle of it
“i want it to be nice” he says trying not to have just a hookup. he really liked you. he wanted this night to be special. he finally got his girl
“it could be nice another day, hooking up at a party is already so unclassy” you say pulling him for a kiss
“ok but than where” he says in between your kiss
“what about the bathroom” it was the only place that could be remotely nice
“ok follow me” he says kissing you once last time on your gore head, lips, and lastly neck
Conrad grabbed your hand and took you down the hall to the bathroom. surprising it wasn’t busy. when you opened the door Conrad immediately locked the door. after he instantly cornered you at a wall so you couldn’t leave him. which you weren’t planning on it either way
“hey” Conrad said leaning his forehead on yours
“hi” you say leaning in to kiss him. leaned in for a kiss. it was deep and passionate. you felt yourself relax. your shoulders fell down as your hands followed his face to his jaw and let them stay there. as Conrad was deepening the kiss you let out a slight moan. it was music to Conrad’s ears. he wanted to hear more. he was hungry to hear more.
“i need you” Conrad pulls away from you with blissed out eyes
“fuck- me too” you say as Conrad picks you up and sits you at the sink
he lifted your dress up to reveal your dark red laced thong. he felt himself snap. he needed you. he needed to be inside you.
as he pulled the thong all the way down. “god you’re so wet” he puts the red lace in his pocket for ‘safe keeping’
he licked his two fingers as lubricant and started to finger you. you followed his fingers as they disappeared and reappeared. sucking on your bottom lip to not draw attention to the bathroom. even though no one could hear you over the loud music.
“look at me when i’m fucking you” Conrad demanded. he wanted to see how your face contoured at his actions. making him feel good inside
if he could he would do this to you all day. he’s been dreaming about this ever since he could remember. he continued with his action. adding fingers as he goes. as he did you gasped into his forearm almost drawing blood with your red nails. Conrad was circling your clit with his other hand to speed the processes up. he needed you.
“Conrad” you whispered lowly and it snapped. Conrad and you. with the white liquid falling down his hand.
“god i need you” as he licks his fingers clean and leaning down to kiss you, tasting yourself
“you’re all i need” you say with fucked out eyes
Conrad unbuttoned his pants, dropping everything with it. making you take his shirt off. leaving him exposed. you opened your legs wider for him.
“fuck” Conrad leans in to kiss you biting your bottom lip as he pulls away “i don’t have a condom” he says flatly
“it’s fine, i’m on the pill” you say as you get the cum spilling from you and rubbing it on Conrad to lubricat him.
“i need to feel you” Conrad says desperately as he pushes inside you. kissing you to hide your moans.
he was huge. you don’t know what you were expecting but he was stretching you in the best way possible. the whole time knowing Conrad you never ever thought about his size. as he entered inside you, you leaned against the mirror and exposing your neck. moaning loudly to the way Conrad is making you feel giving him a confidence boost. as he continued his actions you would look down because you liked the view and every time Conrad lifted your head to see him. and when he did you moaned because he was the one fucking your cunt.
“let me hear you” Conrad whispered in your ear
“fuck Connie” you say grabbing Conrad and making out with him
something about you being fucked in retro clothes. and how Conrad liked the dress because he could see your boobs which allowed him to leave hickeys down your chest as a manrepelent. that he is the one for you and only you. you tugged on his hair to make him moan, which led to him kissing you deeply, hitting a new spot
“y/n you need to take a picture with me and Taylor” Belly says loudly through the door
“mm- yeah on it just doing some-e touch ups” you struggle to speak because Conrad just kept going deeper and circling your clit trying to make you mess up
as you heard the steps walk away you let out a loud moan which you weren’t expecting. the white substance running down your legs as Conrad just looks amazed at you.
“that was so hot” Conrad says hiding his face into your neck leaving new hickeys to decorate your body in the morning “turn around” Conrad demanded
“but-“
“please it’ll be quick”
and so you did. you didn’t know why but you trusted him with everything you had inside of you. maybe because you knew him amongst all your life, but either way he was making you feel so good today.
he turned you around so your face was looking at the mirror. it was fogged up from the steam coming from the both of you. Conrad aligned himself again going deeper and faster keeping the same pace he liked how your face would come close to the mirror almost hitting it. your eyes were watering and you were trying not to let them stream and ruin your makeup, but he just kept going
your hair was all sorts of tangled. your eyeliner and masacra running and your lipstick was smudged. your boobs were spilling out from the top of the dress as Conrad kept pounding inside of you.
“you look so fucking hot” Conrad says looking at you from the mirror
“yeah” you say half moan half question
“fuck yeah” Conrad affirmed
“take a picture” you say grabbing his phone from the counter and putting it on selfie mode. letting both you and Conrad in the photo as you but your lip and he concentrates on making you feel good
“fuck that was hot” he says as you put it in his hidden photos
you would look at his face from the mirror he was so focused on pleasuring you. and than another moment he would make eye contact with you through the mirror. his naked body heaving from the lost of air.
he leaned down to where your ear was nibbling at it and licking it to add more stimulus and make you come which was successful. you grasped into the sink so hard that you thought you would break it and moaned so loud that Conrad made you face him and kiss him to suppress the noise. because even though he liked hearing you, that was loud enough to hear over the music and didn’t want to stop the fun
“Conrad-” you say clenching on Conrad’s shaft
your stomach was tightening for the third time this night. you felt your body come to a stop, everything inside you started to tighten. you were sure your mascara was running
Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you ramble. He speeds his movements, knowing you’re close
“You’re so beautiful.” he thought. The way your head is titled back, your mouth wide open. He loves the way your eyes were screwed shut in pleasure. He couldn’t help but smile, not being able to stop admiring you.
He watches your face as you unravel, feeling him come close behind. “Ohmygod, fuck. Conrad, please,” you begin to pull away from him and look forward, the overstimulation almost painful. you came so hard tipping Conrad over the edge and following behind.
as he pulls out you felt the cold air hit you and you arched your back, Conrad looks at the sight and wishes he could take a picture. he uses his fingers to push the cum in.
“what are you doing” you ask standing straight but losing your balance
“i want you to walk around with my cum inside you” Conrad says leaning in to kiss you
“you’re so annoying” you say turning around to the fogged you mirror and cleaning it with your hand. fixing your eyes and smudged lips.
“i’m keeping these” Conrad pulls your underwear from his pocket
“no!” you yelp running to grab them but breaking your ankles
“did i do i that” Conrad asks at your lose of walking skills
“shut up” you say walking slowly to the door and walking away struggling
“two new photos today” he says referring back to the polaroid and the explicit version
“only for you” you say fixing your dress down your body as you take your shoes off to be able to walk a little better
“what now” Conrad asked
“i’m tired let me lay with you” you say wrapping your arms around his neck to kiss you
“ok” he says with a polite smile
you didn’t really understand how he could destroy you one moment and than the nicest person in the world. a person who would want to give you the world. and you enjoyed it. it kept you on your toes.
you quickly run to his room to make sure one one else could see your state of fucked up appearance. but your plan failed as Conrad quickly swooped you taking you in for a quick kiss making you smile.
“i have some extra clothes if you want” he asks pulling them out to you
“ooo give me” you say changing quickly in the corner of his room
“you’re funny” he says laughing laying down on his blanket and pillow
“what why” you say putting the shirt over your head and walking back to him
“you were all about yourself a second ago and than now you’re all shy” he says poking you
“oh shut up” you say moving your body so your back faced him
“make me” he says towering over your face so he could be kissed by you
a/n: i take requests!
#mntalbrakdown#belly x conrad#conrad fisher#conrad fisher x reader#conrad fisher x reader smut#conrad fisher x y/n#team conrad#conrad fisher x you#jeremiah fisher#conrad x reader#conrad x belly#cam cameron#conrad fisher imagine#the summer i turned pretty#conrad fisher fanfic#conrad fisher x fem!reader#jeremiah fisher x reader#tsitp conrad#conrad fisher angst#conrad fisher smut#conrad fisher fluff#conrad fisher icons#conrad fisher one shot#conrad fisher au
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