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porcalinecunt · 2 months

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𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋. ♡

🎀 ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ thinking about aot men who’d be the softest doms ever . . .

·˚ ◌༘͙[featuring] ! ˊ 𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐍 𝐊𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐈𝐍, 𝐄𝐑𝐖𝐈𝐍 𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐇, 𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐈 𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍, 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍 𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐎𝐓

cw — fem!reader. size kink (erwin) body worship (jean, levi) praise kink. lots of breedings. edging, fingering, some nipple play (levi) sub!armin (implied)

◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ author’s note! : hi hi! it’s been a while since i made an actual post here. apologies! life got busy, but i finally have time to make fics again :D there might be some changes on this account but we’ll see! anyways, please enjoy and feedback is welcomed! 🤍

➸ jean kirstien.

he’s already so much of a sweetheart, so it’s not shock he’s carry that to the bedroom. he’s needy but slow, as it’d be way too easy to accidentally hurt you. the size difference aroused yet made him a bit nervous. (the first time was quite a hassle!) nonetheless, jean gave you the fuckin’ princess treatment every time the both of you would get intimate. kissing every inch of your body while caressing your hips with his large hands. he’d gently lay your down, not pulling away from the sloppy kiss the two of you are engaging in. did i mention that this man is huge? he adores watching you struggle to take him completely, squirming and whining as he stretches your smaller cunny inch by inch.

“j-jean..’s too big!” you whined, watching through glassy eyes as your boyfriend hovered over you, sinking himself deeper and deeper into your weeping cunt. your legs twitch in a failing attempt to keep them open, something jean would immediately notice. “does it hurt babe?” he asked in a groan, hazel eyes carving holes into yours through hooded lids. you could only shake your head as he took it as a confirmation to bottom himself out. your eyes rolled to your brain and your jaw went slack as jean watched in awe. “look at you..taking it so well f’me.” he sighed, slowly beginning to pump you full as ecstasy filled your senses. the only thing you could hear were jean’s sweet praises, telling you how much of a good little girl you were for taking him so well and patiently. your head grew hot as the feeling of his dick stuffing you full began to overwhelm you. “good little girl, always taking my dick so well..fuck you’re so cute!”

➸ erwin smith.

oh my god. erwin. what more can i say, he’s a gentleman in bed! anything you ask for, he will do without hesitation. want him to knock you up? done. want some head? he’s already on his knees. sad after a rough day? he’ll stuff your cunny full until your filled n happy. anything your heart desires, he’ll give it to you with all the adoration he has for you. ♡ even better when you realize how big he is. how he can easily pick you up and fuck you silly in mid air if he really wanted to. even better, how massive his fucking dick is, enough to make your mouth water just by the thought of it.

“e-erwin!” you whined, watching your husband’s face as he stared down at you. a gaze full of softness and love, a stark contrast to how he was treating you. a smile to his wife while fucking her slutty pussy like an attention deprived whore. “how did i get so lucky? what did i do to deserve such a beautiful girl as my wife..” he breathily chuckled, fucking into you at a slightly faster pace. erwin started down at you, from your flustered smile to your breasts and stuffed cunt, every last detail on you brought him closer to the edge. “good girl..my good girl. you deserve every inch i give you..”

➸ levi ackerman.

contrary to popular belief, levi isn’t the mean and rough dom many make him out to be (still adore that levi tho!) but rather, a gentle and passionate type of dom. he’s not the most romantic, but oh boy, when he is..buckle up. this man will treat you like your his final meal on death row, savoring every inch of flesh you have on your body. kissing you from your lips to your clit, muttering sweet nothings while pumping his slender fingers inside your cunny. he sings his praises when he’s balls deep in you, calling you names like ‘princess’ and ‘darling’, anything that fills your stomach with butterflies if its not his cock. your legs are already trembling from his voice alone, not helping the fact his groans are fuckin’ perfection.

“settle down princess, i barely did a thing.” levi carassed your breast with one hand while finger fucking you with the other. all he needed was two fingers and his wrist as he flicked it with a quickened pace that almost forced your thighs shut from shock and pleasure. while your mouth was closed, tiny whines still manage to spill through as your husband’s thumb moved it’s way to your clit, adding to the overstimulation. with his other hand, he tugged and played with your nipple while letting go just to take a gentle squeeze to your whole breast. you’re thighs shook as your orgasms reaches closer and you grabbed the coller of levi’s loose shirt for support. “‘s becoming too much princess? you wanna cum all over my fingers?” he spoke in a gentle and low tone, making you nod eagerly to his question. “How cute, shit—if only I could do this everyday.”

➸ armin arlot.

armin armin armeeen! <3 you already know what kind of man he is. his partner’s pleasure is a priority he takes very seriously, from letting you choose the position to making sure you orgasm first before he spills his seed inside you. he gives you princess treatment even after sex, not letting up until you knock out from exhaustion. he fucks you like your a goddess, hitting every sensitive spot in your while singing his praises. he wants, no, needs to see you cum around his cock as it’ll make the night worth it. he won’t lie, seeing you whimpering and shamelessly getting off to him servicing you never fails to push him over the edge and nearly fuck a baby in you. this man is a keeper!

“t-this good enough for you..?” armin sighed, watching you take in his dick inch by inch until you’ve completely sat down on it. “y-yeah..fuck you’re huge..!” you whined out, grabbed his thighs and trying your best to move while the overwhelming pleasure had you shaking. the blonde placed his hands on the plush of your hips, firmly holding it as he lifted you up from his cock before slamming you back down on it. a yelp tore from your throat, nails digging into the flesh of his thigh and your eyes screwed shut from the sharp pleasure. “right there! armin fuck..!” you mewl as he guided your hips, slamming his cock in and out of you at the pace you desired the most. his blue eyes peered through his bangs as he grew redder and redder from the expression you wore so beautifully. mouth parted open in an ‘o’ shape with slightly arched eyebrows, pink washed over your face with red sitting right on your cheeks. fuck, he was insatiable. “yes..just like that love, just like you wanted. always taking it like the good girl you are. ♡”

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st6rrrs · 3 months

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OUR GIRL

ONE SHOT

SHORT?

FLUFF

VIOLENCE

— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗

"FUCK YOU CORMAC!!"

you had just caught your boyfriend having sex with pansy in his dorm.

"oh stop being so fucking dramatic" he said starting to get annoyed with you

"what do you mean stop being so fucking dramatic you just slept with my best friend... im your girlfriend!!" you yelled

he scoffs while putting his clothes back on

"what the fuck is wrong with you!" you yelled

he suddenly stops looking angrier than ever. he walks up to you and punches you so hard it causes you to fall onto the ground.

"what the fuck is wrong with me?" "what the fuck is wrong with you!, You are nothing without me and plus..."

he smirks

"pansy probably does it way better than u ever will" "and she not a fucking pathetic virgin like you"

"i got sick of waiting for when you were ready, im a man i've got needs"

you look up at him with teary eyes, you get up and go to walk out but he grabs your arm and pulls you back

"if you tell anyone about this i will kill you." he says in your ear

you pull your arm out his grasp and walk out of the dorm heading to yours. your pretty sure your eye is bruised cause it hurts really bad and you can barely see out of it or its probably because your sobbing your eyes out.

— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗

you push open your dorm room and close it. you turn around to see Enzo, tom, Theo, and Mattheo all watching tv.

you immediately turn around to face the door so they don't see your eye.

"y/n what are you doing?" enzo asked while giggling at the same time.

all the boys look at you confused on why you were just standing at the door with your back towards them

"im just tired could you guys get out please" you asked

"why does it sound like your crying y/n?" tom asked getting up walking towards you

your back is still turned towards them. tom suddenly grabs your shoulder and turns you around to face him.

he examines your eye closely and carefully you can see him slightly turning angrier the more he looks at your eye.

"what the fuck happened to your eye" theo yelled from behind tom

"who did it?" tom asked

you look down to the floor

"n-n-no one i just bumped into a wall" you stuttered

"who did it y/n" tom now demanding a answer

you looked down to the floor and whispered cormac only enough for tom to hear.

he storms out the dorm theo and mattheo soon follow him but before they did you heard mattheo whisper something to enzo.

"y/n lets get you clean up" enzo said

— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —— — ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —— — ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —— — ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —— — ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗

after enzo got you cleaned up and gave u a pair of his oversized shirt and sweat pants he tucked you in bed.

''so.. how did you get the black eye?" he asked you

you sighed and told him what happened

"that asshole" he said to himself "im so sorry y/n"

"its okay, its not your fault enzo" you said

— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —— — ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —— — ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —— — ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —— — ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —

tom, theo, and mattheo come back into the room with blood on there shirts and a few bruises on there face

"what the hell happened to you guys?" enzo said sitting up from laying on the bed with you

"we gave cormac what he deserved" mattheo said smirking as he sat down on the bed

"is she sleep?" theo asked looking towards you

"yea, she said she caught cormac sleeping with pansy and when she confronted him, he hit her."

"we should have killed that bastard" tom said to himself out loud

"how dare he touch our girl."

#slytherin boys #theodore nott #mattheo riddle #lorenzo berkshire #harry potter #fluff #slytherin

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pinknipszz · 3 months

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adagio for strings 1/4

↷ ˊ- true form!ryomen sukuna/f!reader | next >

"you know where to find me, and i know where to look."

(a/n: gift for my baby @mania-sama)

sellers of the market shout at you for standing idly on the edge of the street, their sun-kissed faces pulled taut from age and ire. they have been keeping a keen eye on you, muttering to themselves over what trouble the illegitimate daughter of a whore and a local businessman would stir. but you, so bony and brittle, find their fears irrational. how could you possibly be capable of anything else, other than swatting away the mosquitoes that threaten to drink all that you had left?

you thought that the day was too pleasant to waste away, so you had crawled out of the woven walls that keep you cool from the summer haze. it is more like a pile of scraps than a house, but it feels like home. it doesn’t look down on you with hate and pity and everything in between. when nights grow too cold, you pull the walls closer and hug your body. when the sun smiles at you relentlessly, as if it was laughing at your predicament, you push back further into the shade.

home is the only thing you could control, and for that, it is your prized possession. your stomach twists into tight knots at the idea of leaving, but you want to stretch your legs. the calluses on your feet are softening. if you don’t get up and move now, your feet won’t be ready for a sprint down the gravel streets if a mob finally decides to chase you out. so you visit the market, silently greeting their looks of apprehension like an old friend.

you grip the hatchet that you stole, remembering how the old farmer had chased after you, throwing rocks and curses laced with venom, when he realized that the village vagrant had snatched his favorite tool. that was many years ago. you don’t know how he’s doing now. maybe he found a better one, something sharper to hack bamboo stalks with, and has long forgotten about you. or maybe he hammered a headsman’s block near his front porch, where he sits sharpening his sword, waiting for you to come back.

mindlessly tracing the grooves in the weathered wood, you limp from stall to stall. the closest seller eyes you warily. her gaze flits between your haggard appearance and the dull weapon at your side, her lips tight and nose turned upwards, most likely upset over your proximity to her precious baskets of fresh pomelos and persimmons. it leaves a bad impression on her more than you. she is an esteemed seller with the finest fruits, and you are people repellent. bad for business.

she watches you with ferocious intensity, half-expecting you to reach for a fruit to quell the gnawing hunger in your gut. she knows how you feel. she could see it in your eyes, in the bones that peek under the dirty robes that you stole from a dead man you had found on the side of the road. she knows about your hunger, but she doesn’t offer a single fruit, even when she has baskets upon baskets to spare, like you are nothing more than a thief or a pauper. if selfishness was a monster, you wondered if it would look like her.

but miraculously, she doesn’t say anything. the feeling never gets old. you don’t know if it is the dull hatchet or the rest of your unsightly figure that frightens her just enough, but it leaves you with sick gratitude for whatever gods are up there. if you could only have a handful of good things in this lifetime, let this moment be one of them. you flee deeper into the market before the seller could reach for something to hit you with.

it is busier than usual today, you realize, limping past a group of giggling kids drawing figures in the dirt. the shouts are louder here. those wise enough to not waste their attention on you continue their hollering, eager to reel in unsuspecting customers with a net spun from deceptive words. you don’t know a lick of business. what it meant or how it worked. based on what you’ve seen, however, is that the loudest caught the most fish. you don’t think twice about the quiet sellers you had seen during your last visit that are no longer here.

sometimes you think it is just the laws of nature. the strongest survive and forget the weak, who are branded for death the second they leave the womb. it’s a promising thought. the sellers who had been too meek to adapt with their competition had been overturned by the changing tides of an uncertain economy. they were weak, unfit to survive. you don’t know if your assumption is correct, but you find that things in nature can easily be applied in real life. you scratch the itch under your jaw.

further along the path, you see a stranger standing by a stall that sold fowl meat. the stark white of their hair, reminiscent of winter nights, ceases your limping. their robes are clean, and they wear socks with sandals. they aren’t local. you have never seen something so close to snow standing in the heat of summer. briefly, you wonder if thirst and hunger finally caught up with you, until the stranger turns. their muddy eyes rake over your form, picking apart your robes and hatchet and matted hair. they hold a small bag of pomelos.

quite a sight for sore eyes, you think bitterly. while they don’t entirely look like a pompous bastard, anyone with clean clothes and warm food in their belly is sure to look down on you in one way or another. so you continue to watch the interaction in silence, even when the stranger looks away in favor of the butcher, handing him a heavy satchel of gems you never knew existed. then they leave, with a bag of raw meat, for the other side of the market, the opposite of where you are standing.

you pull yourself to where they stood, dropping your hatchet to hold out your hands. you wait expectantly for your fill. “the hell d’you think yer’ looking at,” the butcher spits, eyes narrowing at you. fury rolls off of him in waves at your audacity. “got a lot of nerve to show up here.” you don’t know why he’s so upset. well, everyone is upset with you, but you don’t know what unsettles him today. perhaps the white-haired stranger was someone important, and you shouldn’t be standing in the footprints they left in the dirt.

“trimmings,” you rasp, your voice curling around each syllable harshly. it is the first word you utter in weeks. it is also the only word you said during your last visit, and the one before that. seriously, you would think that the butcher had it down to routine by now. he scoffs but reaches for the bloodied basket anyway, throwing it in your chest. your weak arms catch it quickly before you peer inside. it is mostly fat, but food is food. you can’t wait to savor it back home.

“t’s the last time yer’ getting anything from me,” the butcher breathes and leans in to jab a roughened finger into your shoulder. “better get out of here before i hang you on a jointed hook.” the cruel threat falls on deaf ears. you know the butcher wouldn’t do that. not because he is kind, no. far from it. your dead body simply has nothing to offer. there’s no way to make money off of you, unless someone decides to throw your bones to a dog. nonetheless, you retrieve your hatchet and scurry off without saying a thank-you or a goodbye.

there’s no point in wasting a breath on a man who looks at you with equal hatred. with one arm, you hold the bucket close to your chest protectively, while your other hand holds the hatchet. you follow the path from whence you came. the dirty robes cling to your skin uncomfortably, and your raw feet ache, but you can’t afford to let your guard down, not when you finally have proper food again. the sun dips into the horizon, and sellers are dismantling their stalls. soon, they will reach home, and so will you.

the hatchet continues to work its miracles, warding off evil like a talisman. however, you know deep down that you shouldn’t overdo it. it won't be long until someone calls you out on your bluff. when they realize that you can’t even lift it past your waist, they’ll come rushing towards you with bags over their heads and poison on their pitchforks. you let your mind wander. perhaps you could pay another visit to the butcher and weasel through a hole in his house, tiptoeing around for his favorite cleaver. you quite like the thought.

you hardly hear passing gossip over the pulse in your ears. however, one frantic conversation bleeds through your excitement. you pay no mind to it at first, thinking you are the subject that leaves them so tense, which is nothing out of the ordinary, but the words “white” and “monk” and “curse” stop you in your tracks. you nearly forgot about the uncanny stranger who stood out like a sore thumb, much like you for reasons entirely different.

the hairs behind your neck stand pin-straight, and you tilt your head towards them. it is two ladies who frequent the market often, you realize. their houmongi kimonos juxtapose with the plain wear of village folk. their wealth couldn’t be any more obvious. kamo. the name tastes like metal in your mouth. great. more pompous bastards. you want to resume the walk home, but something in you feels inclined to listen, to eavesdrop on what leaves their pretty little heads spinning.

so you listen and you eavesdrop, keeping yourself a safe distance away to ensure they don’t see you.

“this is the third time this week,” one who wears a sparkling pin says first. she leans closer to her friend’s side. “you know about the rumors. nothing good comes out of seeing him.” him. for a moment, you think that she’s referring to the white-haired stranger, until you hear what she says next. “the monk-child is just a bad omen. it’s the cursed object we have to worry about.” it comes out of her mouth like a slur. you think it’s a euphemism for something else.

but you don’t have time to dwell. you must return home, so you do.

you like to think that things would have turned out differently if you had stayed at the market a little longer. maybe then, you would have heard them talk more about the supposed monster among men, and how the villagers suspect you having something to do with it. how your sudden appearance somehow aligned with the monk-child, another bad omen second only to you. you would have heard them chortle over the troops they had sent to your home while you had been away.

maybe then, you would have lifted your hatchet over your waist for the first time in your life, and hack down on their shoulders, through the thick material of their beautiful kimonos, and into unmarred flesh. but no amount of dreaming could save you from the anguish, as the grip around your bucket and hatchet slacken. they fall to the ground, and the fatty meat spills all over. your finger twitches, as well as the edge of your lips, the corner of your eyes, and the base of your spine. the sun is long gone, replaced by moonlight.

you find it sick how you wouldn't have known who destroyed your humble home if it weren't for the insignia left behind. you recognize the colors. kamo. kamo. kamo. the torn fabric lies above the ashes and taunts you.

your legs give up under you, and you fall to your knees. the sound that leaves you is nothing short of primal. animalistic. closer to grief more than anything, when you grab handfuls of dirt and ash and squeeze hard. you think about the village. about the stranger you are wrongly accused of associating with. about the butcher and the kamo women. the butcher. you wouldn’t be surprised if he had been the one to ask for military intervention, like the goddamn coward he is. you claw at the ground until your nails bleed.

you are too angry to weep. you don’t care about the blood collecting at your knees, seeping into the robes that you had stolen, or around the precious hatchet. is this penance? your soiled hands find purchase in your hair, and they tug at the roots. how could the gods be so cruel? it still smells like smoke. the residual warmth taunts you, as if reminding you what a real fire is like. nothing that a couple of makeshift walls of a home could emulate. you shakily reach for the wooden handle.

you push yourself up, ignoring the protests of your aching body, and bite the inside of your cheek. you are staring hard at the remains when you feel a heavy weight bump into your foot. with the last bits of your patience, you look down. a pomelo. it sways side-to-side before coming to a complete stop, as if someone rolled it towards you. someone did. when you look back up, you find the same muddy eyes that studied you at the market.

they didn’t say a word then, and they don’t now. they simply watch, hidden between trees in the distance. you reach down for the ripe pomelo and tear it open. when you bite, you realize you don’t like pomelos, but you finish anyways. you're still starving. you throw the tart flesh into the ashes with no intention of returning, before tightening your grip on the hatchet and turning towards the village. you miss the ghost of a smile on the stranger’s face.

“are you pleased with her actions?” they ask the darkness beside them. their words are met with silence.

(masterlist) | listen to adagio for strings!

#jujutsu kaisen #ryomen sukuna #sukuna ryomen x reader #jjk sukuna #sukuna ryomen x you #heian period #true form sukuna #uraume #jjk x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen sukuna #sukuna x reader #jjk imagines #ryomen x reader

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helloaugustmoon · 2 months

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shamelessly inspired by this tiktok because my goodness?? the ENERGY. whEW.

Michael Jackson x she/her!reader

·˚ ◌༘͙[Privacy] ! ˊ

Every reporter hopes and prays for the opportunity to interview a man like Michael Jackson; not out of sincere interest or intention, for the most part, it is entirely for their own gain. To rephrase: every reporter hopes and prays for the opportunity to find out something about a man like Michael Jackson that nobody else has publicized, making them the first to exploit the new - and most likely, private - piece of information for their own notoriety. Being aware of this, Michael and his management preface every interview agreement with the clarification that any reporter who is given such an opportunity is required to list the intended questions for Michael, allowing him to choose which questions he then consents to answering on record. That said, there are instances where reporters simply can’t help themselves, so desperate for the scoop that they cannot resist asking a forbidden question. This particular interview is one in which Michael can foresee that very event occurring.

Of course, Michael didn’t miss the way the reporter’s eyes glinted when he glanced at you, then down at your left hand, to find an engagement ring. It’s to be expected. If you or Michael didn’t want your engagement to be publicised, you’d have kept the ring hidden, or removed it entirely. However, that didn’t warrant anyone to press further into the matter, or into your relationship.

“He’s going to ask.” You whisper into Michael’s ear when he leans down to kiss your cheek, moments before he’s due to head in front of the cameras and begin the interview.

“For the sake of his career, I’ll hope he won't.” Michael whispers to you in kind, leaving another lingering kiss on your cheek, the disguised threat in his words making you giggle.

A pacifist through and through, but when it comes to you? He’ll find every non-violent means of protecting you in this life and the next.

With a smile directed at you, Michael slips his sunglasses back on - hiding his eyes when you’re not the only soul to see them - and steps in front of the camera, sitting down in a chair placed center-frame. The camera starts rolling, the interview begins, and everything seems to be going as planned; the reporter is sticking to the questions Michael had circled - a copy of said list held tightly in your hands as you stand behind the camera, Michael having discussed each question with you prior to circling them, because in his words, “We’re a team, baby. Anything you don’t want out there, won’t be out there.”

Continuing down the list of questions, you take a deep breath, knowing that the very next question is the one you and Michael had been anticipating, and had specifically not consented to as part of this interview. The moment the reporter starts speaking again, your eyes widen.

“So, Michael, I feel I can’t continue this interview without addressing the elephant in the room; your beautiful fiancé is here with us!” The reporter exclaims, and Michael has to lift a hand to cover his mouth in an effort to hide his amusement.

“Yes, my fiancé is here- not that she’ll appreciate being referred to as the ‘elephant in the room’.” Michael responds, and from behind the camera, you can’t help rolling your eyes fondly. It was a bad choice of words from the reporter, nothing more, but Michael won’t even let that slide when it comes to you.

“Ah! My apologies, definitely wasn’t my intention! All the same, I’d like to say congratulations to the happy couple-“ The reporter continues, but Michael is quick to ever so politely interject.

“Thank you.” He says softly, in the hopes the reporter will move onto the next question. No such luck.

“And I can’t help asking the burning question, the one that’ll be on everyone’s minds from the moment they find out about this joyous occasion: when can we expect some…tiny dancers, shall we sa-“ The reporter is leaning forward in his chair opposite Michael, so thirsty for every facet of the response he can get from him.

This time, Michael’s interjection is less polite, and intended as a direct interruption.

“I did not circle that question.” He raises a hand pointedly, as if to chastise the reporter, but there’s a well placed smile on Michael’s face, and you’re hiding a smirk behind your hand.

If those sunglasses weren’t covering his eyes, you know there’d be a glint in his eyes that you could spot from a mile away.

“Sorry, sorry, couldn’t resist!” The reporter laughs, trying to play off Michael’s clear disapproval.

Keeping professionalism, Michael only nods in response, and the interview continues. It remains respectful from that point on, but the damage is done. In a matter of minutes, the interview is over, but it isn’t until the cameras are confirmed to have stopped rolling that Michael crosses one leg over the other and clasps his hands over his lap, staring intently at the reporter.

“Thanks so much for giving me this opportunity, I really do appreciate it.” The reporter gushes, and Michael nods slowly.

“That’s alright, not a problem. So long as you cut from the point you referred to my fiancé, until the next question I consented to you asking.” Michael says, his voice soft as ever, but sentiment firm; it’s not a request.

“Oh! O-Of course!” The reporter’s eyes widen.

“Good. An assistant of mine will stick around to check the cut version, but do apologize to whoever’s tasked with editing the footage down - I don’t mean to waste their time, but it’s like I said: I didn’t circle that question. It’d be in your best interest to resist, next time.” With a deliberately casual shrug, Michael rises from his chair and walks past the camera, over to you. He places a hand against the small of your back out of habit, bringing you a warm smile.

“Next time?” The reporter asks, his eyes lighting up.

Naturally, that’s what he chooses to focus on; his next opportunity to leech from Michael.

“Yes, next time. Not with me, of course. I don’t make friends of those who make any kind of comparison between the love of my life, and an elephant. Take care.” With a gentle squeeze of your hip, Michael nods curtly at the reporter and guides you out of the room.

Naturally, you are reeling from that interaction, seeing your fiancé as heated and icy in equal measure as you’ve ever seen him. It isn’t until the two of you are seated in the back of Michael’s limousine with his hand holding yours to his lap, that you find your voice.

“Thank you. You didn’t have to do all that, you know.” You tell him softly, an almost shy smile on your face.

Removing his sunglasses and setting them down, Michael returns your smile and meets your eyes.

“I did, baby, I did. I told you: anything you don’t want getting out there, won’t get out. My boundaries may have been a playground for the press since I was young, but yours will be respected like a temple.” His voice is as tender and sweet as it always is when he talks to you. Using his free hand, Michael gently tips your head and places a soft kiss on your forehead, his thumb caressing yours.

While Michael’s threat lingered in the intricacies of his instruction and dismissal of the reporter, his team won’t be as respectful; that reporter will be added to the list that is watched by a dedicated team under Michael, who are handed a lawsuit faster than they can stammer out an apology, should they choose to speak on their ‘slip-ups’ during their interviews with Michael. At his instruction, of course, but that’s a side of his business he doesn’t necessarily need to share with you. All you need to know is that he takes care of you in every possible way that he can, and should anyone test that, Michael will take every opportunity and non-violent avenue to reinforce your boundaries. It is fair to say that when it comes to you, every reporter underestimates just how far Michael will go to protect you from the vultures that have attacked him for as long as he can remember. You will live a fairytale each and everyday, and anyone who tries to jeopardize that will face the true scale of the power that places Michael so high amongst the targets of the press.

#michael jackson #michael jackson x reader #michael jackson imagine #x reader #imagine #fanfic #fanfiction #imagines

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sarahs-secrets2 · 10 months

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Surf's Up! ˋ♡ˊ

surfer!leon x fem reader! no use of y/n!

someone approaches you at the beach and offers you a surf lesson, do you say yes? 1k words!

a/n: i dont surf, i tried to make it as accurate as i could pls forgive me in advance

₊°✧︡ ˗ ˏ ˋ ♡ ˎˊ

Saying it was hot out was an understatement with the way the sun refused to let up, and it didn't help that there wasn't a single cloud in the sky on your beach day. Most people would love this kind of day but the stagnant heat was unbearable, especially with the addition of burning hot sand.

You propped yourself up on the palms of your hands onto the striped towel beneath you, allowing your gaze to drift toward the sea. It was peak surfing hour. The waves were strong today hence why you were avoiding the water while the surfers were the first to jump in. Bringing a hand up to your face to shield the stray beams of sunlight, you watched as the surfers attempted to catch a wave. Shifting on the towel, pulling your knees close to your chest becoming completely enthralled in the display in front of you.

“You gonna get out there today?” a voice appeared behind you. Your head cocked to the side of you, neck craning to get a view of the stranger.

“Me? Hell no,” you chuckled, looking up at the man who towered above you as you sat on the towel. It was hard to make out his face entirely as the sun that had been pestering you all day continued to do so, perching itself almost directly above the man's head resulting in a faint shadow draping over the man’s features. Pushing yourself up from the sand you stood facing the man now finally able to see his face.

“I think you should give it a try,” he smiled wide as he laughed, well aware you weren’t a surfer by any means. “Ah sorry, Leon,” his hand jutted out awkwardly for a handshake, “Where are my manners?”

“Nice to meet you, Leon,” it was almost impossible not to smile at how genuinely kind he seemed, a tad nervous but it was undeniably cute. Leon had blonde hair that seemed to be pulling more on the lighter side due to the constant sun you could tell he was getting. His eyes were just as blue as the ocean that was just a few meters away. You would be doing a disservice to yourself if you didn't admit how attractive he was. His wetsuit was draped around his waist, slightly tugging his swim trunks down showing a bit more than just his tan line. “You headed out?” your head motioned towards the crashing waves.

“Soon, got distracted,” winking as shifted his feet in the sand, “I could teach you ya know, if you want to learn that is,” his fingers ran through his hair, pushing it back and out of his face. Your eyes flickered from him to the other surfers on the horizon. Although you quite literally just met him there was something about Leon that you knew you could trust. Leon was able to make out your indecision, his hand reached for your shoulder giving it a light squeeze, “C’mon, promise I’ll take good care of ya,”

“Fineee,” you dragged it out, trying to play it cool and hide your excitement, “When’s my lesson?”

“Tonight? Like 5 or 6-ish, I can bring an extra board and wetsuit for you,” his hand snaked around his head as he rubbed the back of his neck, nervous that you would change your mind.

“That sounds perfect,”

“Good, yeah great actually,” he laughed as he stumbled over his words. “Okay yeah, tonight,” he repeated, faintly mumbling as his nerves seemed to get the better of him. Leon hadn’t planned this far ahead, you actually saying yes. He had figured you would've written him off from the start.

“I hope you’re a good teacher,” you teased, trying to ease his mind a bit.

“Oh yeah I’m great,” Leon loosened up, leaning into your jokes. “You’ll be my first student so you’ll have to give me some pointers yeah?” his arms crossed in front of his chest as he sized you up.

“Yeah I think I can manage that, I can be quite the teacher’s pet,” your comment was quick to catch Leon off guard, he cleared his throat with his eyes darting to the ground.

“Uh,” his voice trailed as he tried to regain his train of thought, “Show me tonight,” he attempted to laugh it off, obviously flustered. He fiddled with his wetsuit for a minute before tugging it up and slipping his arms through the sleeves. Almost like he was doing it on purpose, he left the zipper wide opening, basically forcing you to look at how fit he was. “You gonna watch me out there? Keep an eye on me?”

“Of course, can’t lose my teacher before my lesson,” you winked, making sure to keep your eyes on his, not letting them drift any lower.

“Good,” he chuckled, zipping up the wetsuit finally. “I’m counting on it, see you here tonight,” he winked back before jogging off to get his board.

You smiled to yourself as you settled back down onto the beach towel. Your hand was back up to cover your eyes from the sun to offer a better view of the surfers. It was impossible to miss Leon’s bright blonde hair amidst the crowd as he paddled out to catch a wave. It wasn't long before he was able to pick one out and get up. Almost an hour had passed and Leon stayed out catching wave after wave.

After sitting at the beach the entirety of the day, you were in desperate need of a quick refresh at home before your lesson later. With that, you picked up your towel and bag and started making your way back to your car.

“See you later,” a voice yelled out. Your head swiveled around to see Leon still in the ocean, sitting on his board, waving to you. Smiling, you waved back at him before continuing your walk and hoping you wouldn't make a complete fool out of yourself later.

₊°✧︡ ˗ ˏ ˋ ♡ ˎˊ

part 2!

massive shoutout and thank you to @navstuffs for being so so kind and helping me get back into this writing thing after my break! :)

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy re4 #leon kennedy x you #leon scott kennedy x reader #re4 remake #resident evil x reader #resident evil #leon s kennedy #leon s kennedy x reader #leon scott kennedy #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy resident evil #re4 leon #resident evil leon #leon kennedy re2 #surfer!leon

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veliamore · 1 month

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Diluc drabble cause ‘m procrastinating on my requests heh . . ! ς꒰ ˊ˘ ˁ ⑅ ꒱ა

Imagine a completely worn out Diluc , coming home to his wifey while he could barely keep his eyes open. He had just finished a long day working at the Angel Share , his head was simply about to explode , having to hear about non senses from the Bard and Kaeya didn’t do any good to him.

All he needed right now was just laying down on your shared bed , close his eyes and get tons of sleep. . and imagine his surprise when instead , you offered to make your lap his pillow and play with his long , silky hair ; you didn’t have to say it twice , before you found your husband making himself comfortable on your legs , hands caressing your thighs slowly and you swore you could feel him melt on you when you started massaging his head. He let’s out a long and desperate sigh as his hands grip your thighs tighter. . oh he surely was the happiest man alive in that moment.

It didn’t take much time for him to fall in a peaceful slumber , between his darling’s legs ; but be careful , if he slightly senses your hand leaving his hair , he will wake up letting out a small whine , before looking up with his puppy eyes and telling you “ just 5 more minutes dear , please. . ” turning those 5 minutes into a session of 2 hours.

God im such a loser for Diluc . . will work on my requests during easter’s break !

#reader insert #x reader #genshin impact #genshin imagines #diluc ragnvindr #genshin diluc #diluc x reader #diluc x you

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pixie-ass · 2 months

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Don't Say You Need Me - Jonathan Crane Drabble

Warnings - none except refrenced non consented ghost hands

— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —

It'd been almost 2 weeks since she'd last heard from the man she loved. Last time she'd seen him he'd been the one to reach out, look for her until he found her, to tell her he missed her and needed her back. Like always she believed him, blurred by the rose lens of love. He'd been there for a while, not long but a little longer than usual until one morning he'd left, with nothing but a few words of how he needed to leave and couldn't explain it to her.

Here she was now, laying in her bed, a comforter covering her from head to toe as she stared out her apartment window into the gloomy streets of Gotham. The tv was playing in the background, the news reporter buzzing about more criminal attacks of people dying from a gas poison. She could care less, a villain could come into her apartment now and strip her of everything but she wouldn't care, her heart had been ripped out again.

The moon was bright in the sky, but clouds would come and cover it again, leaving her in darkness again.

It was late into the night, but she couldn't sleep.

Flipping over, she looked at her small clock, 2:37, it read. It's been days since she'd gotten good rest even if all she did was rot in bed.

She hasn't always been this way, she'd been with many men before, but none of them had made her so sad to lose like Jonathan had. She'd been strong, never shedding a tear for any of them, telling herself they weren't worth it. But then came the doctor, with his charming good looks and stoic personality.

Lost in thought she once again stared into nothing in particular, lost in thoughts that kept coming. Her phone lit up, she zoned into it. She was getting a phone call. Sitting up, she picked it up, the caller ID was unknown.

Furrowing her brows she answered, "Hello?"

"Y/n, hello. It's Jonathan."

Silence filled the room, her heart leaped in her chest, from happiness, excitement, pure bliss. It was like the color had returned into her life once again. She was happy to hear his voice again, like a drug it lured her in and had her addicted everytime.

"My love, where have you been? I've been worried sick." She inhaled shakily, the news of his voice making her happiness overpowering, "Oh, i've missed you so much, Jonathan.." she whispered. She was now sitting up completely, the first movements she'd done in a while.

"I've been busy here at Arkham, you know how my job is. Lunatic after lunatic. You wouldn't believe how many crazies are in this city." His voice sounded the same, yet she could suspect a different hint of tone from his usual annoyed one, it sounded darker, but she couldn't put her finger on it. She decided she was imagining it, from her lack of sleep and time since she last heard him.

She let out a giggle, "Yeah, I'm sure, I've seen the news. There's a new criminal they call the Scarecrow, spraying victims with a fear gas. Another crazy you'll be seeing soon, huh?" There was a noise in the call as if a shift in fabric, "Perhaps if he's caught. I've seen him around the media, his techniques are quite intelligent though, the police haven't caught him, not even the infamous Batman." There was a snarkiness in his voice, his annoyed tone had returned, his tone almost sounded insulted at her comment.

She wondered why, then another question popped up, "Why did you call me until now, Jon?" She was now frowning, looking down at her knees, her heart aching in fear of what he would say.

"Ah yes, I called you because I wanted to see you, my darling." Her frown lifted, a smile replacing it as she bit her lip happily.

"I've been wanting to see you more than anything. When did you want to meet up?"

"I'm outside your apartment complex, if now is fine." Jolting up she looked outside her window, seeing him walk into the doors of the complex, her heart raced as she looked at herself.

She looked a bit messy from laying in bed, "Oh, um, yes now is fine. Let me just clean up a bit. Just knock when you're here please." He gave a quick response, as she hung up. She wasn't sure what he needed but now her nerves were getting to her as she replaced the lounge clothes she wore with actual clothes. Slipping on a small black skirt and sweater, she tidied up her hair as she heard a knock.

Opening the door, she smiled widely, there stood the man she'd yearned for, dressed in his usual suit. "Jonathan…" She embraced him in a tight hug around the neck, holding onto him like he'd disappear into thin air again, "I've missed you so so much." She exhaled into his neck. He placed a hand on her waist, he'd never been much of a physical person. Stepping back, she stared into his face, smile never leaving as she motioned him to come in. He did so, she noticed he was carrying a suitcase with him, she assumed he'd just got out from Arkham.

"Good to see you too, darling. I needed to see you again." He spoke, setting down his suitcase on the kitchen table. Her heart fluttered at his words, he did seem a bit different.

He sat down at one of the tables and she accompanied him in doing so. Staring at him, she noticed he carried himself with a new demeanor, she didn't speak until he spoke up first, "I'm sorry I left so abruptly. I had an emergency to see to. You know I love and need you, my darling."

She nodded, smiling as she grabbed his hand in hers. "I know, my love. Don't worry. I'll always be here for you, I love you more than anything."

Jonathan was pleased to hear this, he gave a smile in return. He knew when he picked her long ago she'd be perfect. No matter how many times he'd left, for months or longer, she accepted him with open arms. He wasn't interested in love or such things but that didn't mean he wasn't good at faking it, he was a master at manipulation and psychological abuse, he was only using what he knew.

"My darling, since you love me so much, would you do anything I told you?" He leaned over, running a hand through her hair lovingly, then moving to her cheek as he caressed it with his thumb. They both equally knew she would, she nodded, placing her hand on top of his as she leaned into his cool touch, bathing in the feel of it.

"Of course, my love."

"Good." He responded, leaning into her and placing a slow kiss onto her lips. She melted into it instantly, closing her eyes and taking in the feeling she missed so much. His lips were warm and he was perfect as always.

A small click was heard, but she ignored it, too infatuated with the man's lips to acknowledge or care. That was until a smell filled her nose, his lips had pulled away by now and she began coughing, opening her eyes she saw smoke and Jonathan had been replaced by a terrifying frowning scarecrow. She let out a scream that was quickly broken by another fit of coughs as she stood up, stepping backwards to get away.

A gruesome voice now filled her head and the room around her was becoming distorted, the lights flickering and dark voids and bugs crawling everywhere. "Oh my darling, having trouble?" The voices seemed to be mocking, she couldn't see him clearly now, only a terrifying dark shadowy figure slowly making its way towards her. She felt hands touching her all over. Falling backwards her body made harsh contact with the floor, she continued to scream, now crying, "Please… please stop, no no no.." she closed her eyes but that only seemed to make it worse as more terrifying images appeared.

"Your pretty little mind can only take so much. Shhh succumb to the fear! Come on my darling, let it all out. Let me see your biggest fears." The voice was tormenting, filling her whole head as she cried harder, the feeling of hands getting more painful on her body. She tried to rub them off frantically, but the feeling only worsened, she felt like she was suffocating. Opening her eyes the scarecrow was face to face with her, distorting and moving into terrifying faces straight from a nightmare.

"Make it stop, make it stop please!" Her words were coming out slurred, whines and whimpers being all that Johnathan heard. She was trying to crawl away, but not to much success. Jonathan could see it was affecting her greatly, he was pleased, a sinister smirk on his face as he ripped the mask off. She was showing to be a great sport, her fear was much more extravagant than he had imagined. He had used a lower dose on her to test it out, but she showed great promise in his future experiments.

Cooing at her, he caressed her face again, her eyes widened in fear as she was paralyzed in place unable to writhe away. Her eyes then closed suddenly as her body went limp, her brain must have exhausted from the high levels of fear. "You're okay now, Dr. Crane will take care of you for being such a good girl."

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br4tphobia · 1 year

Text

Eren & Connie core💕💕🤭

#my man my man my man!! ˊ #black reader #x black reader #connie springer #aot connie #aot eren #eren jaeger headcanons #connie springer headcanons #╰┈➤ ❝ talk yo shit val ! 🤭

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porcalinecunt · 1 month

Text

𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 ‘𝐄𝐌 𝐔𝐏!

🎀 ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ wondered what boothill has that lasso for . . ♡

·˚ ◌༘͙[featuring] ! ˊ 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐗 𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐄! 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

cw — ftm!reader. mean dom!boothill. crossdressing. bondage. fingering. (reluctant) praising. dumbification. squirting.

◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ author’s note! : boothill brainrot has me going hogwild for him hmmphmmammm. my last post abt him has been popping off lately, i hear your cries boothill nation and i'm here to serve! enjoy ~♡

“quit whinin’ boy, will ya?”

he rasped, swallowing another bullet. the taste of lead spread in his mouth, crunching noises from the ground up ammo made you flinch a bit.

your wispy gown was bunched up to your thighs, held in place with the rope he uses as a lasso outside of the bedroom. every curve was shown in it’s full glory, soft flesh suffocated from the harsh material. you sat on your knees with your wrists tied tightly behind your back, rendering you helpless as you couldn’t even close your legs. you could only watch helplessly as the ranger pumped his metal fingers in and out of your soaked cunny. his cold palm pressed up against your clit, overwhelming you with an electrifying friction no other man could give you.

“mm..b-boothi–”

smack!

you flinched as your thighs instinctively tried to press themselves shut, much to the amusement of your robotic boyfriend. a shit eating grin spread across his lips, flashing his shark-like teeth.

“what did i say baby..? too cute to understand now?”

the bullet between his teeth moved up and down, his speech slightly glitched at the very term ‘cute’. if only he could spit out what he really ment, but then again, his sarcastic tone dripping with faux sympathy spoke volumes. boothill was a sweetheart at his metal core, but if you asked so nicely, he might flick his own switch just to see you fall apart at his touch. you were too adorable to turn down.

you shook your head, syrupy eyes stared back into his bloodshot ones. a silent beg for release, added on by your impatient grinding. two teasing fingers were no longer enough for you, no, you needed him to do his absolute worst. fucking you while bound like the good little minx you were for the hunk of steel. to hear his annoyed tone forced to say sweet nothing while his body said otherwise. maybe, he might get the gun involved. none of it mattered.

through mindless babbles and high pitched whines, you pleaded for more. the ranger’s eyes flicked up towards your fucked out face as he swallowed the last bullet. you were pulled forwards by the rope, forced to face boothill’s mean grin.

“use your words doll.”

you tried, you really did, but whatever you wanted couldn’t come out right. almost like you short circuited, spitting out all of your desires. from him fingerblasting you ‘till you soaked his whole forearm to being stuffed to the brim by his synthetic cock, his ridiculous girth stretching your cunny till you cry. as you begged, his fingers quicked until the noises were too loud to even hear him praise you in your ear. you cracked your eyes open and almost orgasmed at what was being done to you. three fingers pumping themselves in and out of you, with boothill using the strength from his forearm to dig himself deeper until he touched your cervix. your thighs shook violently, shifting the rope to reveal the marks it’s already left on your soft flesh. you were close, and he could tell so easily. the way you clenched around his fingers to how quickly your moans subsided into lewd silence was made so stupidly obvious.

“nasty one aren’t ya? y’gonna cum already?”

he chuckled, nipping your earlobe as the final knots in your stomach finally snapped. tugging onto his leather vest, you came and came hard. your vision blurred and your legs went numb while you sobbed out in both shock and pleasure. boothill drank up the view in front of him, his pretty baby fucked out and dumber then a lost trotter. your once flawless sundress now ruined at the bottom with the top slipping off of your shoulders. of course, the rope that’s definitely gonna leave some lasting marks, which is exactly what he wanted.

after all, you’ll come running back with it in hand the moment they fade. ♡

#𓆩♱𓆪 — porcelaincunt !#boothill x reader #hsr boothill #boothill hsr #boothill #boothill x you #hsr x you #hsr x reader #hsr smut #hsr x male reader #boothill smut #honkai star rail smut #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail #ftm reader #x ftm reader

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hazelfoureyes · 2 months

Note

holy shit it's happening i need to take a deep brearh aaAAAA (sorry i keep hiding in your asks i have to stop reading every few lines because your writinf makes me WEAK . did you know that i came FOR THE FIRST TIME EVER in one of my dreams about the sexy deer man a few days ago? all doing of your alastor)

It’s illegal how excited this inbox message got haha YEEEES ENJOY THE THINGS OUR BRAINS ARE CAPABLE OF! BODIES ARE ELECTRIFIED MEAT CAPABLE OF CREATING GREAT PAIN AND MAGNIFICENT PLEASURE. Whenever given the choice, Always choose pleasure!

✦ ─ ˗ˋ ୨Orgasmic Hazbin Smut୧ ˊ˗ ─ ✦

#HazelNutslolololol #hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor smut #hazbin alastor #fanfiction #hazbin hotel smut #alastor x reader smut

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sanest-bsd-delegate · 6 months

Note

Hello there :3

I saw your song fic event and I was quite interested, would you mind doing a Fyodor x GN reader with Bernadette by IAMX? It would be appreciated but no rush!

───ˋBERNADETTE ˊ- FYODOR DOSTOEVSKY

🗝Prompt Lyrics : "We are alone, nowhere to run, You are my liberty I celebrate the day That you changed my history Oh, life and death Will always lead you into love and regret But you have answers And I have the key"

🗝Song: Bernadette by IAMX

🗝Pairing: Fyodor Dostoevsky x GN! reader

🗝A/N: I tried to fit the lyrics to the fic cause man, bernadette has some really deep meaning lyrics.

As you gazed out the window, you whispered softly, "We are alone," prompting a quiet hum of agreement from Fyodor. Your attention turned to a single raindrop slowly meandering down the glass pane, eventually merging with others at the bottom, and you murmured, "nowhere to run," to yourself.

The warm atmosphere of the room made you come closer to each other, as the cold weather outside made you shiver in cold hypothetically.

Observing your slight shiver, Fyodor swiftly pulled the covers over both of you, his arms enveloping your shoulders while your head nestled on his chest.

A comfortable silence filled the room, and you found yourself gazing at your boyfriend, who held yet another book. His eyes momentarily left the pages to meet yours, prompting a small smile.

"You are my liberty, " Fyodor suddenly whispers, before keeping the book to the side table, him now lowering his body to lie down on the bed, as you mirrored his actions "I celebrate the day that you changed my history"

"Oh, life and death Will always lead you into love and regret" Fyodor continued, his eyes growing heavy as sleep approached, before his hands found a way to wrap around your body, both of you now cuddling while lying down, "But you have answers, and I have the key"

His eyes finally closed, and you watched him with affection as he drifted into slumber after a long day, a gentle smile covering your lips as you pull the covers and gently place it over your bodies, "I love you too darling" you whispered, kissing his forehead as you switch off the nightlight letting the silent and dark room consume your environment and you comfortably in your lover's arm

TAGLIST: @averagehisoilluenjoyer @high-on-dazai @ruru-kiss @kissesmellow21 @just2normalperson

Join or remove your user here.

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the-therapist-needs-therapy · 9 months

Text

Dates Like You (2)

Pairing : Soonyoung x Reader

Genre : Fluff

Warnings : None

Comfort In You (1)

Soonyoung's first date with you doesn't go as he expected. But at least it was fun.

Soonyoung's ideal first date was a pottery studio. His grin was bright as usual as he stands proudly in front of the only studio he could find in that area.

"So, pottery?" you giggle at the adorable idea he had came up with.

"Yes. I was thinking of something unique," he says, "You don't like it?"

You shake your head aggressively, partly wondering where he had gotten that idea from, "Of course, I love it. I've always been an arts person and yet I've never tried pottery before"

"Good thing I brought you here, then"

↶*ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊ- ↶*ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊ-

"Look here, kids, you both seem like trouble. I have some foreign tourists who want to learn pottery as well. Please don't make any mess," Mrs. Yoon, the owner of the studio says, but the grin you and Soonyoung share doesn't seem convincing to her.

"Of course, Mrs. Yoon. We're angels"

"I hope that's true," she sighs and walks off to the tourists who had been waiting for the past 10 minutes.

"Do you know how to do it?" you ask Soonyoung once you were not able to see the lady anymore.

"Of course," he replies confidentially.

"Then, you'll have to teach me"

Soonyoung walks over to one of the pottery wheels where Mrs. Yoon had already set up all the equipments including a decent amount of clay. You follow him and sit by the wheel, and Soonyoung plops himself next to you.

"I seriously have no idea what to do," you admit, your ears turning red.

"You have to place the clay on the wheel first. Then, while the wheel spins you can shape the clay into literally anything," Soonyoung explains and you look at him blankly, still not feeling confident.

He sees your expression and laughs, "Let me help you," he moves behind you.

You flush at the sudden closure between the both of you.

"So," he whispers in your ear, placing his hand on yours, his legs trapping your own, leaving no gap between you, "We have to put the clay on the wheel head, first," he grabs some clay from the side and places it on the wheel and turns it on.

"Now, we have to shape it," he guides your hands, fingers sliding into yours as he shapes the clay. You watch in amusement as the clay takes form, wondering if your hands were the one doing it.

You didn't say anything, being too focused on your beating heart and through your back you could hear Soonyoung's too. Your face was set in a dark shade of scarlet.

"I know it isn't easy but it's fun," Soonyoung whispers in your ear and you nod, as no words came from your throat.

A while later, you were done with your pottery and Soonyoung frees his tangled limbs from yours, making you sigh in relief because finally your heart can calm down.

Soonyoung's eyes were on the mug he made. It had some minor flaws but you thought that it still looked cute.

"I'm not an expert as you can see from the final product," Soonyoung looks sheepish, his cheeks dusted in red.

"It looks adorable. I'm keeping it forever. I mean, if you let me"

"Of course," he pulls you closer by your hand. He cups your cheek, despite his hands being a mess from all the clay, "Can I kiss you?"

Man, you would have died then and there. The look in his eyes was enough to make you breathless. It wasn't the most romantic place, with all the clay and dust, but for you it was enough. You nod, flustered and Soonyoung grins before pressing his lips against yours.

You could feel his smile as he kisses you slowly but before you could kiss back, you hear Mrs. Yoon's shriek.

"You kids, my studio is not the place for you to be making out. Get lost before I kick you out. And take that thing with you," you pull away from Soonyoung, all flustered from the second kiss you shared with him.

"We're sorry, Mrs. Yoon," you apologize and pack up your things including the mug, while Soonyoung stood by with a giddy smile.

"Bye, Mrs. Yoon," you say, grabbing Soonyoung by the arm and leave the studio.

"You shouldn't have done that"

"I asked your permission though!"

↶*ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊ- ↶*ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊ-

"Soonyoung, are you done?" you ask trying to peep through your fingers. Soonyoung had brought you to his house, wanting to show you something and had you close your eyes. You were sitting beside him at his dining table.

"Almost. Don't look," he says, "And done. You can look now"

You remove your hands from your face. Soonyoung smiles and hands you the now-painted mug. His smile widens seeing upon your reaction.

"Oh my god. It looks so adorable," you say cupping the mug in your hands with a grin, "Thank you"

"No problem. I just thought it looked too plain. Also," he pointed at the bottom, "I wrote our initials".

You turn the mug over and sure it was there. K.S.Y + Y/N written in bold letters with a small heart below it. 'First Gift on the First Date' was written in even smaller letters and it puts a smile on your face.

"You're my girlfriend, now, Y/n. This gift proves it"

↶*ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊ- ↶*ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊ-

#seventeen #imagines #soonyoung fluff #kwon soonyoung x reader fluff #kwon soonyoung fluff #kwon soonyoung #soonyoung x reader #seventeen x reader fluff #seventeen fluff #seventeen soonyoung #soonyoung x reader fluff #hoshi x reader fluff #hoshi fluff #hoshi ff #hoshi x reader #sharvena.originals

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katkusuo · 2 months

Text

MINORS

Fuck off

Hanma Smut - late night oral (hanma) receiving

First time trying too make a tiny little fic will probably contain alot of sloppy and shitty typos..

Started | 22:55 | finished | 23:23

it was a very eerie night in bed you was tired beyond words hanma was cuddling you from behind it was hard too tell but he was tiredly rubbing against you his clothed dick threatening too try unintentionally try push through your clothing you woke up from this in confusion as you rubbed your eyes getting rid of the tiredness trying too lean in but is failing so in annoyance you lean your elbow back booting him in the shoulder making him groan loudly and release you from his firm hold as he muttered not noticing his erect cock that was rubbed against your ass most the night "mmf..honey what the fuck did you elbow me for.." You raised an eyebrow at this and mutter "your dick is fucking poking me fix it han.." Hanma looked down too see his erect mediumly massive cock poking out his boxers threatening too stretch the boxers he then looked back up at you with a cocky smirk and muttered in tiredness "babygirl do me a favour would yer give me a little handjob i really need too blow some steam before i blow a load in your little cunt..k? Yer think you can do that for me..my little taste of heaven" this caused you too blush a little but instead makes your expression too change of one of pure greed.. You frantically nod before leaning over from off your side onto your knees and lean in between his legs while sat on the cotton white sheets grabbing his boxers waistband you could already see the precum stains as you are pulling it down gently as his thick hard cock flings out making your. Mouth a twitch you want too stroke his cock till it's unable too stop shooting ropes loads of cum but you also want too suck him off so fucking bad you look up at him as his hand leans forwards too grab a load of your hair as he forces you too look up into his tired eyes and look at his mouth as he speaks with that shit eating fucking cocky grin "get too working my little taste. Of heaven I don't care what you fuckin do..just satisfy me you could blowjob and handjob me for all i care it's twice the pleasure my pretty little girl.." This caused your spine too shiver too it's core and your greed took over as you bobble your head down on his cock slurping spitting and stroking the little vein on his cock while also using a free hand too massage his heavy balls.. Making the tall man moan and grip your hair as you slurp so hard and massage his balls making him stutter and grip harder without causing too much harm as he'd shudder and mutter

"f-fuck make me cum you. Little fucking doll..make me cum like a good little helper mm?.. mmf.. FUCK" he'd shutter again as he'd fill your mouth full of cum forcing you too swallow as he'd lean down and mutter "good girl good girl swallow it all"

— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ — THAT'S ALL IG?

Tag list

@arlerts-angel

@i-literally-cant-with-this

@kazutora-kurokawa

@darkstarlight82

#hanma headcanons #hanma smut #hanma shuji #hanma x reader #fem reader

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helloaugustmoon · 3 months

Text

·˚ ◌༘͙[nsfw alphabet] ! ˊ

this is about as steamy as I’m gonna get outside of blogging other people’s works w the most unhinged commentary imaginable so 18+ only below the cut! ♡

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

his middle name isn’t Joseph actually that’s a coverup and he’s not the King of Pop either that’s a secondary coverup bc his full name and title is Michael Aftercare Jackson, the King of Aftercare. even when he’s less experienced, taking care of you comes like you do with him breathing does to him; he’ll run you a bubble bath, light candles, form a pathway of red rote petals TO the bath, then carry you to lie you down in the hot water, and he’ll either join you or sit right beside the tub with your hand in his, his thumb caressing your knuckles. anything that’s even slightly too sore for you to reach to wash on your own, he’s doing for you with the most love in the world. you’ll have a hard time convincing this man to let you lift a finger around him in general, but after he’s rocked with you? oh. oh no. sit your pretty self down.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

as we all know, Michael is very deeply insecure, so probably won’t ever verbally admit this, but if he had to aka you denied him kisses until he answered, he’d confess he likes his eyes most, and it’s 100% because of the way you lose yourself in them.

now, getting him to admit his favourite body part of yours is entirely impossible for the polar opposite reason. someone could hold this man at gunpoint and he wouldn’t budge on this.

“Say it! Say your favourite part of her body right now, or we’ll shoot!”

“If you think I’ll objectify my girl before letting someone shoot me, you’re not only wrong, you’re stupid. Hit me with your best shot.”

this mf can and will write a love song dedicated to your pinky finger, and you want to ask him to CHOOSE?? unfathomable. literally unthinkable. if you ask him, he’ll just laugh and list every part of you, but if you insist on it, he’ll just pacing. literally doing laps around Neverland. bc he cannot answer you and now you’ve got him stressed bc on the one hand he never wants to disappoint you by not answering a question you give him but you’re an actual angel. for the love of this poor man’s sanity, do not ask him this question.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

prefers it in you and prefers the lack of mess, too. does enjoy seeing you kneeling and waiting for it, though.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

this coming from the man who tried to say his dancing wasn’t dirty? please. he’d fight tooth and nail to suggest that you sucking his fingers was a solely innocent activity. unbelievable.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

heavily era dependent, so based on that: virgin pre-otw era, and if you don’t tie him down in good time he’ll probably get curious w some high end ladies of the night, but it doesn’t take him long to realise he values an emotional connection when it comes to intimacy, so will have only had a handful of serious relationships. however, this man does learn quick.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

say it with me now: missionary! being able to look in your eyes, caress your face with his fingertips, kiss you, feel all of you against him, your legs around his waist omg the man categorically cannot and will not get enough.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

definitely can start off either super goofy or super romantic, but the longer you go for, the more romantic the moment becomes. there’ll be giggles and goofs in the midst of it all, but for the most part, he’s very sentimental about it. considers you and your body to be sacred and will worship at your altar.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

era dependent, actually. otw and thriller he’s got a lil trimmed somethin somethin, bad and dangerous he tried out shaving, then invincible he decides he can’t be bothered with the upkeep of shaving it but he keeps it trimmed and neat.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

same as G, really; intimacy is the priority.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

super shy and from an extremely religious household?? pls. otw era Michael would probably actually rather ask a girl out (and that’d take some convincing from his brothers). depending on when you meet him, you might consider actively encouraging him and he may or may not be super into the idea of you ‘teaching’ him, and then only ever being able to think of you when he does, but even that would be rare. definitely prefers you.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

bro omg. where do we start.

he is the sweetest, sweetest lover, so everything he does is purely loving. there are few things he wont try for you, but in terms of what kinks he already has/discovers he’s super into with you: breeding, spanking, choking (but not hard, mainly just holding you there), having you ride his thigh; anything that involves dominating you will have him intrigued.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

mf was the most famous man on the planet and he’d rather never speak or sing again than share you intimately, in any capacity, so the location will be private and with top security. that said, he can make any location private and secure, you just say the word.

oh, a super fancy restuarant?

“No problem, baby. Security? Clear it. Yeah, kick everybody out and pay for the inconvenience.”

oh, a public movie theatre?

“Already rented the whole place, sweet thing. Every individual viewing room, in case you couldn’t decide.”

he is ready to go at a moment’s notice.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

he is ready to go at a moment’s notice x2

literally anything you do like if you smile at him he’s both the most in love he’s ever been and bricked are you surprised. but, in particular, seeing you all dolled up, especially just for him rather than some kind of official vent will have him dropping to his knees to propose and also remind you that the M in Michael stands for munch.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

slap you. spanking is a little different bc he can understand the dominance of that and in the heat of the moment, shocking you with a spank appeals to him, he loves the sounds you make, but with the abuse he suffered, he can never bring himself to slap you, your face specifically. if he ever held your jaw slightly too hard and left a mark, he’d feel physically sick until it healed. something about seeing your face with marks just absolutely kills him inside.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

this one is a bit of a wild card but I’d put good money on Michael being a hardcore munch who is actually way more shy/hesitant to receive that kind of intimacy than give it; even in otw era, he’d happily go down on you for hours on end while he remains literally fully clothed. he might be a bit nervous to begin with, but he gets the hang of things pretty quick - your body is his most favourite instrument, and he’ll master it, you can count on that.

that said, when he’s confident enough to receive, there is something about seeing you on your knees for him that gets him every time. but, overall, he prefers anything that makes you feel good.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

ever the dancer, he can match whatever pace you or the mood calls for, but he prefers a slow, sensual and deeply emotional hour of lovemaking.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

understands their functionality and convenience - stress relief, post-show bliss, spur of the moment, etc - and enjoys them for what they are, but much prefers to take his time with you.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

will gladly try almost anything for you with very few restrictions, but won’t do anything that risks you being exposed to anyone else’s eyes; the media has been hounding him his entire life, your body is the one thing he wants to keep just for himself.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

remembering the more traditional period that Michael comes from, toys would be a little out there for him, and if you brought them up pre-Bad era he’d be like a deer in headlights who couldn’t make eye contact with you for several hours. but, when he sees what they can do upon using them on you…well, he’s no stranger to fine tuning an instrument.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

is this even a question. this man will deliberately have you side stage at his concerts just to tease you for the ENTIRE show. all those girls screaming for him? ripping his shirt mid-song? and his definitely-not-dirty dancing? PLEASE. he literally lives to tease you for his whole set, just so that he can stroll up to you when the show’s over, all sweaty and panting for breath with a shit eating grin, only to wrap his arms around your waist and act deliberately oblivious.

“Oh, hey baby! Enjoy the show?”

“You know what you did. We need to get to your dressing room, like, an hour ago.”

“An hour ago? My girl, I’d just started the show, I couldn’t possibly-“

and you cut him off by dragging him by the hand to his dressing room while he laughs.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

youtube

oh yeah. his bedroom’s a whole floor specifically for his time with you.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

gets very into degrading you when he sees and hears how much you love it, but will only say things that are equally as sweet as they are filthy.

“Do you hear yourself, sweet girl?”

“Oh my love, look at the mess you’ve made.”

“Yeah? Is that it, pretty girl? Like this?”

“Oh, you like that, don’t you? So good for me, my little love.”

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

a gentleman never tells.

gold pants.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

this is another era specific one that entirely depends on which era you meet him in bc you can assume from getting used to your company, his libido reaches new heights, but for starting in each era:

otw - categorically will not initiate intimacy for like the first year of your relationship bc he’s convinced he’ll misread your body language as wishful thinking when in actual fact you’re lady-bricked 25/8 around him bc who wouldn’t be hello

thriller - a little smoother with it, a little more open to initiating things based on trusting his own instincts, a little more willing to admit that he wants you without you having to ask first.

bad - oh he’s getting it now fr. all that leather? yup. he actually gets more shy when you initiate it in this era and that’s wholly bc he gets blindsided whenever you want him enough to bring it up in conversation.

dangerous/botdf - breeding kink in full swing we havin babies out here, he wants you literally every chance he gets and he WILL make that clear. I’m talkin pressed up behind you at the kitchen counter type beat.

invincible - this entire album should tell you everything you need to know but for those of us who enjoy it being spelt out: the things he whispers in your ear to invite you somewhere more private will leave you speechless.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

considering this man’s stamina, if you last long enough to tire him out, he’ll be sleeping pretty soon after that, but usually you tap out first and that is one of the rare moments you’ll actually see Michael smug.

“All tired out, baby? My poor love. Did I do too much?”

#michael jackson #michael jackson x reader #michael jackson imagine #fanfic #fanfiction #imagine #imagines #x reader

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sarahs-secrets2 · 1 year

Text

Show Me How ˋ♡ˊ

request for @ghostunderground76 !!

loosely based on Show Me How by Men I Trust

fem!reader (no use of Y/N)

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: read at your own discretion pls, kidnapped!reader (no descriptions of harm), mentions of a kn!fe, pregnancy, HAPPY ENDING

₊°✧︡ ˗ ˏ ˋ ♡ ˎˊ ˗

“If you’re not gonna tell me what’s goin’ on with you,” Phillip sighed throwing his hands up in defeat, “then I'm leavin’, I’ll be back after work but I just don't get it,” he rubbed his temple, despair coating his face. Unable to answer you, let him walk out the door, unsure of what was next. Your hand drifted to your stomach trying to think of how you were going to tell Phillip the news.

The Shadows were quick to notice the Commander’s shitty mood as they made sure to avoid him as he stomped into his office. Throwing himself down in his chair Graves sighed, frustrated at the circumstance. He wasn't mad at you, just upset that you felt you couldn't trust him enough to tell him what was weighing on your mind. He wanted to make sure you felt safe and comfortable with him all the time and right now it felt the complete opposite.

Philip felt uneasy the rest of the day, his stomach turned at how things were left and immediately headed home early. Stopping at the local grocery store to get you flowers hoping you would forgive him. Pulling in the driveway he immediately felt something was off. Approaching the front door he noticed it was cracked open, the lock had been busted. The flowers dropped onto the front doorstep as he ran through the house. Broken glass and furniture were tossed everywhere. Graves felt sick as he saw the state of the house, calling out your name hoping you were home and safe. To his dismay you were nowhere to be found, knowing he had to act quickly he immediately headed back to the base to get a team of Shadows ready.

✩｡:*•.───── ❁ ❁ ─────.•*:｡✩

Your head spun as you tried to get your bearings, your hands tied behind your back. The blindfold over your eyes was thin enough that you could tell you were not home, but an empty warehouse. The sound of faint voices echoed through the room, noticing you were awake. The shadows of two figures approached you, peeling off your blindfold.

“Make sure you smile big,” one of them whispers a bit too close to your ear, a chill of disgust runs up your spine. Bright lights flash on causing you to wince, and a little red dot flashing in front of you. The camera propped up and recording. One of the men stood behind you, another to your right as they spoke to the camera. Your mind had blocked them out, still trying to assess the situation and how it happened. All of a sudden, the feeling of a cold metal blade shocked you back to reality.

“Tell him what you are hiding,” the man motioned with the knife toward the camera. You froze, unable to move or even think about what he could be talking about. The men were impatient as the one on your right nudged your elbow.

“Your stomach,”

“My stomach?” you knew what they were referring to but you didn't want to tell them to hopefully protect the both of you.

“Your wife is pregnant Commander Graves,” the man behind you spoke up, “Deliver us the money, and she and the baby will go unharmed,”

“Be quick Commander,” the red light blinked and eventually turned off as the recording ended. Tears streamed down your face, your head dropping as you hoped none of this was real and just a bad dream.

✩｡:*•.───── ❁ ❁ ─────.•*:｡✩

Phillip, busy back at base, was assembling a team. He scrambled trying to be as quick as possible afraid he was wasting daylight and precious time to find you. While he was in his office getting clearance his computer beeps with a message. His eyebrows furrowed, hesitantly he clicked the URGENT email that had popped up.

The video rolled showing you with the two men, and immediately his heart sank. Graves fell back into his chair, unable to believe what he was seeing. His ears rang with anger as they spoke about their stupid demands. Suddenly his ears perked up at the words “pregnant,” his eyes widened as he grabbed the phone off his desk, dialing the number as quickly as possible.

“This is bigger than my wife and I, she’s pregnant,”

Graves' team quickly gathered in his office, a team of experts analyzing the video to figure out the location where you were being held. Once they had narrowed down the area, Phillip and his men geared up and called local law enforcement to get you back.

✩｡:*•.───── ❁ ❁ ─────.•*:｡✩

Arriving at the warehouse, Phillip and the Shadows devised a plan to get you out as quickly and safely as possible. Entering on the count of 3, a designated group of Shadows secured the men while Phillip was able to save you.

After the room was cleared Phillip ran over to you, untying you as you fell into his arms. Pulling you closer he hugged you tightly, afraid to let you go again.

“I'm so sorry doll,” he was out of breath and couldn't even find the words. Graves was in complete shock at the events of the day. His hand moved to your stomach before looking up at you, “I know this isn't how you wanted me to find out but I can’t wait,” he kissed your head lightly.

Tears streamed down your face, “I don't even know if the baby will make it Phillip,”

“That’s not goin’ happen darlin’, don't you worry. I’ll take good care of you,” he squeezed your hand, “We’ll get you the best doctors,” he smiled before helping you up and to the ambulance that waited outside to check up on you.

₊°✧︡ ˗ ˏ ˋ ♡ ˎˊ ˗

if there's a typo pls lmk im half asleep finishing this kdfjsdfs

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