#I'm going to melt into a puddle and disappear

[clenastia]

meep

#Y'all send help #One of my favoritest people reblogged something from me #Aaaaaaa #How do you handle it #I'm dying #I'm going to melt into a puddle and disappear #I need a how-to guide for handling attention from cool people #...maybe I should go make tea #Tea is good #Yes

[rowarn]

simon smoking while u ride him ):

afab!reader, blowjob, throat fucking tbh, simons a tease, alcohol (he was drinking), cum facial, cum eating i'm so sorry, u ride him while he smokes yeah — MDNI

the empty glass of bourbon sat on the night table, the leftover ice slowly melting into a watery puddle at the bottom.

but cleaning up the glass was at the very back of both your minds, you truly couldn't think of anything else except the stretch of your throat around his hard, heavy cock.

precum mixed with the bourbon that still lingered on your lips from when you kissed him.

simon almost always had a drink before bed, something to help slow his mind and relax him. tonight, however, he just looked too good to resist.

shirtless, legs spread as he leaned back against the headboard. you had greedily palmed at him and kissed him until you felt him chub up against his thigh.

you were swallowing him down before either of you knew it. with the alcohol coursing through his veins, he was much looser and louder than he usually was. he tilted back with his pretty, brown eyes rolled back in his head when you messily swirled your tongue around the head.

you were drooling but you didn't care, spit dribbling down his length and dripping down to his balls.

a strong hand gripped the back of your head and you heard him let out a low chuckle, "you wanted to suck my cock, love, go ahead and take it all."

you relaxed your throat and let him push your head down at the same time that he jerked his hips up, sheathing himself in your throat. you gagged, reflexively trying to pull back but his firm grip kept you there.

"easy, darlin'," he coos, "just relax and breathe, it's alright."

you blink away the tears that gather in your eyes from gagging, not caring that they fall down your cheeks and mix with the spit coating your lips and chin. you glance up at him through wet lashes to see his lip tucked between his teeth and his chest heaving from the pleasure before you suddenly swallowed around him.

his back arched a bit before he let out a choked moan, "oh fuck!"

he held you down around his cock, writhing and moaning brokenly as you swallowed and sucked him before he suddenly releases you and lets you come back up. you don't stay detached from his cock for long before you're taking him back in comfortably, moving your head up and down, slurping and moaning around his length as you stroked the rest of him with your hand.

cupping his balls, you gently roll them in your hands before his hand suddenly slaps down against the bed with a cry of pleasure.

"fuck, fuck!" he whines, tugging your mouth off of him.

you continue to stroke him through his orgasm, flinching when his cum splatters over you, dripping down your neck and chest. you lick a stray drop off your lips and release your hold on his cock, watching as he twitches and pants through the aftershocks.

but his hard on doesn't flag in the slightest, still twitching and hard against his stomach. you straddle his waist, dragging your dripping folds along the messy length of him.

gripping the base, you hold the tip against your entrance and slowly begin to sink down. your eyes are locked onto the way he disappears inside you, the stretch stinging and making you whine.

the click of a lighter is what finally drags your gaze away from the lewd image of his cock stuffing you full. you look up in time to see him toss the lighter haphazardly somewhere in the bed before he takes a long drag of his cigarette.

"s-simon..." you whine, feeling your cheeks burn at the sight of him leaning back so casually, just smoking as if you weren't sitting on his cock all wet and needy.

"go on, love," he smirks crookedly at you, "use that cock, sweetheart."

you clench around him, finally fully seated with every single inch buried inside you. you can feel him throb, lidded eyes focused completely on you as he takes another drag, blowing the smoke away from you.

you lean forward and pull him in for another kiss, the familiar taste of bourbon and cigarettes making you whimper. your hips slowly move, grinding back and forth to stir his cock within your walls as you get lost in the kiss.

his free hand grips your hip, kneading and stroking the skin there in encouragement. when you pull back, he dips his head down and drags his tongue through the mess of his cum on your chest and up your neck, collecting it in a puddle on his tongue before he's kissing you again.

the lewd sight of him eating his own cum has you gripping his shoulders for stability before you slowly begin to bounce on him - still locked in the kiss, tasting the bitterness of his cum on your tongue as well.

he pulls back to take a drag of his cigarette again, reaching over to the table to tap the ash away, gaze never leaving you as you bounce yourself on his cock.

"f-fuck, simon!" you squeal when you angle your hips just right and he hits that gooey spot inside that makes you gush messily around him.

"fuck, that's good," he groans, eyes rolling back at the same time he lets his head fall back against the headboard, "usin' that cock so well, sweet one."

you bring one hand down and find your clit, circling and tapping your fingers against the tender little bud as you continue to rock your hips. your thighs are burning and you're panting like you've run a marathon but you can't stop when your orgasm is so close.

simon sits there, cigarette almost done, offering no assistance even though you know he can tell you're starting to struggle.

"cum for me, love," he coos, "let me feel it."

your head drops to his shoulder as your orgasm finally crests. you fuck your self on his cock through it all, every twitch and clench and tremor. you cry out his name, eyes rolling back as you drool on his shoulder.

you come to slow roll before stopping completely, still completely seated on his cock before you lean back to look at him.

he loves that dazed, cumdrunk look on your face and can't resist grinning, taking one last drag of his cigarette before putting the bud out in the ashtray.

"that looked like a good one," he teases, "startin' to think you don't really need me to do anythin' to make you cum your little heart out."

"please, si," you whine, rocking your hips minutely once again as the urge to get truly fucked by him grows.

"nah, love," he pecks your lips when you pout, "why don't you use this cock again and cum nice and pretty so i can really watch."

#simon riley smut #simon ghost riley smut #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost smut #ghost x reader #cod x reader #cod smut

[goldenamaranthe-blog]

Putting on the Rizz: Chaggie feat. Husker & Angel

Angel: Vagina, you're about as charming as a bed of razorblades.

Vaggie: If you call me that one more time, I'm going to collapse your sphincter on the grand staircase banister! And I can be charming when I want! I managed to get Charlie to date me, didn't I?

Husker: Because she's a bleeding heart with a savior complex, and you were literally a kicked puppy left by the dumpster.

Angel & Husk: (high-five)

Vaggie: (growling as her ribbon turns into horns) Fine! I'll prove it!

Charlie: (walks in) Hi, guys! What are you talking about? I could sense Vaggie's blood pressure rising.

Vaggie: (blushes faintly and clears her throat before sauntering up to Charlie with an extra sway in her hips) Princesa, a moment of your time?

Charlie: (blushes as her eyes zero in on Vaggie's hips) OooOoh... you can have all my time... (shakes head) Uh! S-Sure! W-What's up?

Vaggie: (reaches up on her tiptoes and whispers into Charlie's ear with a slight rumble in her chest)

Charlie: (blushes so hard her cheek circles disappear as it spreads down her neck to her hands, and she melts into a puddle) Askfbsks!

Vaggie: Love you, babe. (Winks and gives Charlie a kiss on the cheek)

Charlie: (starstruck) Uh-huh... Love you too, Vaggie~

Vaggie: (walks back to Angel and Husk proudly) Told you.

Husker: Well, I'll be double damned.

Angel: How the fuck did ya do that?!

Vaggie: I spoke Spanish in her ear in the chesty way she likes.

Husker: (watching as Keekee gently paws at the Charlie puddle on the floor) What did you say?

Vaggie: (coughs and shifts awkwardly) I actually blanked on something to say....so I just recited Lucifer's apple pie pancake recipe in Spanish.

Angel & Husker: (faces slam into the bar top)

#hazbin hotel #charlie morningstar #vaggie #angel dust #husker #putting on the rizz #vaggie can totally flirt #charlie is a sapphic disaster #cinnamon roll charlie #hazbin hotel incorrect quotes #chaggie #vaggie's got that rizz but it's not what people think

[eternalsa2z]

DM In Your DMs

You were introduced by your friend Nally. After plenty of teasing and toying and asking if you were sure you were ready to meet this model. Not just excited. Like busting out of your seat and bra ready.

You insisted that you were and the Instagram reveal didn't disappoint. She goes by the name 'Doll Mistress' and she is H - O - T HOT HOT HOT. She looked like a queen in her full glory, her gaze admiring her many worshipers as she gives them a brief glance at her perfection.

She def had a bit of a 'rich bitch' or 'ice queen' vibe, which normally doesn't match your sweet girly vibes. Even if her look still made you melt into a puddle. But that doesn't mean she can't rock a bit of a girl next door look. You know, if that girl was an heiress at the next mansion over in the gated community.

Still you couldn't help but be obsessed by this look. Her pony was clearly a fake extension and her faux fur boots were a bit much. But then again that fit her vibes, doesn't it? As if she was saying:

"I'm pretty. I'm plastic. I don't care who knows. Worship me"

Gawd what you wouldn't give to worship in front of Doll Mistress. You'd die if she slipped into your DMs. Or at least you died and went to heaven. Because one day, late in your timezone and early in hers, she sent you a message.

"Hello Kiki. I heard you were a pretty cute bimbo doll who's been having some stupid bullies say mean things. Why don't you let Doll Mistress take care of them...then we can go on a date"

You of course, through your bimbo babbling in sheer fangirling, manage to explain that while you love the support, you are a committed bimbo. Her next DM makes it clear that she's simply chuckling at your cuteness.

"Oh I know. I'm not looking for a relationship. Just a doll to play with"

True to her word, the homophobes and patriarchy pushers slowly disappear from your site. You also notice a corresponding uptick in extra girly, submissive bimbos talking up how pretty you are. It's great because you need the pep talk ahead of your first date...er, totally platonic meeting.

You spend forever picking out your outfit. You need to look perfect. Make a good impression for Mistress. You end up looking cute - but she shows up looking stunning, showing up to your date dressed in feminine finery. Making baby boy blue look as good as girly pink.

She has a beautiful floral adornment right around her throat. Perhaps it's a metaphor for her tight grasp on femininity. Or perhaps a future indication of how soon her ice queen grip will extend to a beautiful bimbo flower like yourself. You squeeze your legs together during the whole meal, imagining the second scenario.

She has you in her clutches from that day on. You're obsessed with her beautiful face and hair. Envious of her fashionable clothes. Above all else, in awe of her attitude and how she rocks her look to the fullest.

The next time you meet in person, your Doll Mistress casually drags a fur coat behind her, like the expensive treasured item is nothing to her.

God what you wouldn't give to be that coat…dragged around behind her…following in her footsteps. She's so incredible. You can't even say anything intelligent, just "OMG!" over and over again as she arrives. Her plush lips curl into a smile, a rare sighting worth more than her entire wardrobe.

"I'm glad you like my look, Kiki. You could be seeing a lot more of it. Come with me. Be my doll."

It's three months later. You and your wife have moved in with Doll Mistress. She spoils and pampers your wife, slowly turning her into a little plastic trophy, a mini-version of herself. You, on the other hand, are her pretty little doll. The one she brings everywhere, even stowing you away in a custom dollbox in her luggage when she travels on vacation. It's worth it to spend time with her and relax at the Bimbo Resort.

"Kiki? Mistress is out of her glass of BMBO. Won't you be a doll and scurry over to the cabana to get me a refill?"

"Yes Mistress! Of course Mistress! Anything you want!" you squeal excitedly, eager to be helpful.

"Good girl. If you return fast enough, I'll let you lotion up my back again" she purrs.

Quickly you bound away as fast as your high heels, wiggling butt, and jiggling bimbo titties will let you. Mistress has been so generous in turning you into her little bimbo pet. Serving her drinks is the least you can do for her!

Plus…the enticing thought of being allowed to touch her perfect plastic body…that's all the payment a doll like you needs. Just a bimbo doll serving her Doll Mistress.

#bimboification #f2f transformation #bitchification #trophy wives #bimbo resort #bmbo

[seresinhangmanjake]

Only For You

Thorn x female!reader

Summary: Thorn hides a huge part of his life from you and he's constantly leaving for long periods of time. You're not sure you'll ever know all of his secrets, but you know you're tired of saying goodbye.

Notes/warnings: angsty/fluffy, but nothing else really. mistakes, I'm sure. I did my best.

Words: 1354

---

“Going where?” you ask, rubbing your hands up and down your arms to shield your bare skin from the cold. He shrugs out of his nylon, sorry-excuse-for-a-coat and wraps it around your shoulders, but it’s a useless effort. In a thin t-shirt, he’ll be frozen in no time and you’ll be left to trade the coat back and forth as he stands on your front porch in the winter’s stinging air. 

His hands slide into his jeans front pockets. “I can’t tell you.”

“For how long?”

“I don’t know.”

With a huff, you ask, “What do you know, Thorn?”

He flinches. A hand comes out of his pocket to run over his buzzed hair. You can’t count how many times you’ve asked him these questions, and you kick yourself for bothering when the answers have not once strayed from their cookie-cutter precision. He never knows. Or he does and refuses to tell you. Wherever the truth lies, it doesn’t make its way to you. But the hurt in his mossy-green eyes is not for the secrets. It’s not for the disappearing act he forces you through. It’s reserved solely for the brand new weariness in your tone. 

This is not what you do. Your pattern with him has been consistent from the beginning. A month after he first kissed you, three weeks after you first slept together, you received the same pieced-together speech: ‘I have to leave. I can’t tell you why. I don’t know for how long.’ And you provided the same response you always do; a response you weren’t aware at the time would be commonly leaving your mouth; a response he’s not once requested, but with every feature of his face, pleads for: ‘I’ll be here when you get back’. Then he smiles, as always, and kisses you, and you pull him into your bed only for him to be gone by the time you wake. 

But you just broke the pattern with that tone of yours. It’s less welcoming, offering inadequate reassurance that when he knocks on your door in one or two or three months it’ll open. 

Thorn swallows hard as he fidgets in place, and you feel tendrils of guilt spread throughout your system. Thorn doesn’t fidget. Fidgeting means nerves. Nerves mean anxiety. And anxiety is not a well-worn jacket on the man who weaseled his way into your heart. It doesn’t fit. That jacket isn’t made in his size and it feels no different than when a toddler is squeezed into an outfit their parents refuse to accept they’ve grown out of. 

“What I know is that I want to come back to you,” he says. A beat passes and the cloud of nervous energy is shoved aside, likely a required skill for whatever the hell he does when he leaves you. He steps closer. Your heart beats harder. “I will walk up here and knock on this door and wait for you to let me in. Like I always do.”

Lips parting, you sink further into the scent of cologne that long ago seeped into the interior fibers of his coat. It’s an instinctual comfort while everything inside of your body fights your mind.

Fingers twitch to reach out and jerk him inside, but if you do that there’s no chance you’ll resist him; no chance you will even make it to your bed. With one foot through the door, he’ll have you against the wall or on the floor with the hallway runner serving as the only barrier between your back and the chill of the hardwood. With his tongue on your neck, you will forget how tired you are of his rollercoastering in and out of your life. His fingers digging into your flesh will crack your icy determination to no longer miss him until it’s a melted puddle beneath you. His cock deep inside of you will demand you let go of letting him go. 

Well, it’ll demand you let go of considering letting him go. It’s not what you want. If you had your pick of clichéd happy endings, your wicked-smart, tattooed-up, former—you question—criminal would settle in with you. But, no matter how hard you try, you can’t form that image in your mind. Thorn with a ring on his finger, you with his baby growing in your belly, a house you can share—if that exists somewhere, you’re losing hope that it’s on your timeline. 

“Thorn, how long is this going to last?”

“I told you, I don’t—”

“No,” you interrupt with a shake of your head. “Not just this time. All of it. When does it stop? When do you stay?”

His shoulders slump the slightest with his heavy sigh. “Sweetness, I made promises. I’ve got people relying on me.”

“And what about me? What am I supposed to do?” you ask, praying the struggle of holding back your tears has slipped under his radar despite that not being a possibility before. The only tears Thorn doesn’t catch are the ones he isn’t around to witness. “What if I left you all the time for reasons I refused to tell you about? You couldn’t find me, you couldn’t contact me, you didn’t know if I was safe, you wouldn’t be able to sleep wondering if I might be dea—”

“Stop!” he snaps, then quieter, repeats, “Stop.” His eyes fall from yours to the stone of your porch and enough seconds pass that there’s an awkwardness to the silence. “I would lose my mind if it was you, Ok?” he says, connecting to your stare. “I’d go fucking crazy.”

“And somehow you expect me not to.”

His hands move to cup your face, thumbs stroking back and forth over your cheekbones. “I don’t expect anything of you, sweetness. I can't, because it wouldn't be fair. But it doesn't change the truth that you don’t leave my thoughts. When I'm gone, every free second I have is spent thinking about coming home to you.”

Except coming home often means adding to your worries. There’s not one instance in the time you’ve known him that he has returned to you without bruises at every stage of healing scattered across his body. But you don’t speak of them. Neither do you speak of the split lip, cut eyebrow, sliced skin, and the worst of them: the hole in his arm that was shoddily stitched up, leaving a permanent reminder of the secret life he keeps from you. 

Often, when he is asleep, you run your finger over the raised skin, simultaneously thankful that he made it back from such an ordeal and cursing that he left to begin with. Then, from the twisted mess those feelings cause in your head, you find that your pain at seeing him hurt always develops a branch of anger.

Despite all of the blows you know he takes, you're not quick enough to stop yourself from throwing one of your own. “Assuming you’ll be able to come home at all…right?” 

His eyes widen before they squeeze shut. Sharp jawline sharpens more as teeth clench. Thorn takes a deep breath, then proves that his forehead resting against yours is all it takes for your anger to fizzle. 

Wrapping your hands around his wrists, you finally allow the tears to spill. They pour with abandon, overwhelming you the way a tidal wave might overtake a small ship in its ocean.

“I know whatever you do is stupidly dangerous,” pushes through your sudden sobs and sniffles. 

“That’s why I don’t tell you what it is,” he whispers as his nose nudges yours. “But I’m careful, sweetness. I’m careful because of you.”

Your lips freeze from the tears that reach them. The salty liquid under the chilled air bleeds away all moisture until his mouth claims a kiss. Not soft, not sweet, but beautifully burning. And from that burn, you find your calm. From familiarity, you find peace. From him, you find home. 

When you separate, your breaths form a puff of heat that shoves away the cold. “I won’t let you down,” he promises. “And I’ll be back before you know it.”

---

A/N: there is very likely going to be a part 2 to this, assuming people would want to read it.

tags: @wkndwlff @blackwidownat2814 @kmc1989 @sagittarius-flowerchild @dempy @oliviah-25 @rosiahills22 @xoxabs88xox @matisse556 @hardballoonlove @ssa-sadboi @lynnevanss @pono-pura-vida @tgmreader @amgluvsbooks @ravenhood2792 @djs8891 @shakespeareanwannabe @sailor-aviator @penguin876 @tgmavericklover @athenabarnes @emilyoflanternhill @wretchedmo @mamachasesmayhem @shanimallina87 @crowsreadsarahjmaas @sky2nd @jessicab1991 @rosedurin @averyhotchner @horseshoegirl

#thorn expendables 3 #glen powell #glen powell fic #glen powell fanfiction #thorn expendables #the expendables #the expendables fic #the expendables 3 #thorn x reader #glen powell thorn

[denwritesandcries]

YJS HCs – body types

Pairings: Yellowjackets x fem!reader

Summary: Okay so, I was thinking about body types so I could add details to my Shauna fic, really small things like skin marks and other stuff and that made me think about the other yjs too. I'm not used to writing headcanons, but here are a few that I couldn't get out of my head.

Word count: 1,9k.

Content: my personal headcanons, cursing, suggestive, fluff, insecurities, hurt/comfort, recent pop culture references so i guess modern!AU??

Note: This is so random and specific I don't think anyone will read it but I wanted to write it so badly.

English is not my first language.

shauna shipman

- I think Shauna is the most athletic of the girls, since in the first episode it’s said that she is the fastest on the team. Not necessarily thin; she is solid. Solid and warm. A warm wall seeking your touch all the time.

- She would always try to keep one hand on you and every time she touched you, her skin would be scalding hot, as if she barely needed gloves in the winter and only wore them because you told her to.

- Big spoon! She likes to wrap her arms around you and let her body wrap you completely when you cuddle or sleep together, her weight relaxing against you.

- Shauna is strong, like really strong and she knows it, her arms and legs are toned from training and she takes advantage of this to tease you at any opportunity, carrying things for you willingly (your backpack, shopping, whatever, she would be exactly like the *aggressively moves all groceries to one hand to hold yours* meme), rolling up the sleeves of her flannels ‘cause the muscles stand out, pressing you against walls/counters or simply carrying you during makeout sessions and nothing you do will take away the smug smile on her lips – well, barely nothing.

- She would also wear tank tops and shorts frequently just to make you nervous and receive compliments. It's ridiculous ‘cause she really thinks she's being subtle (she isn't).

“Shaunie, you sure you don’t want a jacket?”

“No, I’m good like that.” She's not, but she won't admit it.

“It’s raining.” You insist.

“The cold doesn't bother me anyway.” She shrugs, but leans back against you, placing her chin on your shoulder.

You snort, “Sure thing then, Elsa.”

- Shauna has a happy trail! Little baby hairs going up to her navel where she melts into a puddle when you caress her, goosebumps covering her skin in the same second.

van palmer

- I believe Van has rough hands from her goalie gloves! They're always warm even if the rest of her body isn't ‘cause of the constant movement – she expresses herself a lot with her hands too. She likes to run them down your sides just to see how your skin crawls, sometimes she does it out of nowhere just to scare you because she thinks it's funny.

- I think her skin is very sensitive, the kind that's full of moles and burns easily in the sun – you're constantly reminding her to put on sunscreen, but it's no use – she loves it when you trace patterns on her spots before bed or when you're bored somewhere.

- Her skin being so sensitive also means that hickeys and scratches are really hard to hide on her. She doesn't mind, in fact she seems to enjoy it a lot, you catch her a lot of times watching the marks spread across her shoulders and neck as they take days to disappear. That doesn't stop her from teasing you tho.

“It's been a week and there's still a purple mark on my neck. What are you, a damn vampire?” She mocks.

“Nah, you act like you wouldn't love me to be your Edward Cullen.”

She lifts her chin at you, “A leech then.”

"Van!"

- She has a belly and is very proud of it! She says it's the best for defending the goal and that it makes her fall to catch the ball less painful; She'll flex her muscles like a gym athlete when she's changing playfully just to seduce you (it works every time). She loves it when she lies in your arms after a bad day and you squish her tightly, it helps her calm down.

- She also has a happy trail, but she is too ticklish, like really ticklish. Many of your makeout sessions end up interrupted by her giggling when you drag your hands too softly under her shirt, she prefers firm touches.

- Van definitely has lots of small scars spread across her body from accidents over the years, that little weirdo (affectionate).

nat scatorccio

- Nat is as pale as a ghost, it would be impossible not to notice when you made her blush for any reason. She would try to distract you so you don't pay attention to it, but it wouldn't put off anything.

- The dark circles under her eyes are extremely pronounced, both due to her paleness and the heavy makeup she wears, so you always know when she's had a bad day or simply hasn't slept enough. She will complain incessantly about you making her stop and rest, but she will always do what you ask.

- I truly believe that she has lots and lots of moles all over her body, especially on her back.

- Some are bigger than others, large spots on the skin and she pretends that her heart doesn't warm with the fascination you have for them, but the prominent red face says everything you need to know.

“They look like small constellations, Nat," you sigh dreamily, hands soft on her naked skin, “Man, I wish I knew a single shit about stars so I could name them.”

“I’m shirtless in front of you and that’s what you’re thinking about?”

- I think she would have a lot of acne, especially on her face from sleeping and forgetting to take off her cheap makeup often, you would have to do a skin care routine together for her to really start taking care of it.

- She definitely has a tattoo scar that she got from one of those shady professionals before she was eighteen and didn't take care of it properly. You almost freaked out when she showed it to you out of fear that it would get infected. In the end she ended up with a weird drawing and a skin failure, but for Nat it was totally worth it, she says it makes her look like a badass (it's definitely not just because you kiss the mark every time you see it).

lottie matthews

- Alright then, let me tell you, this girl is FREEZING from head to toe. No matter how well she dresses up, her whole body will remain strangely cold, which worries you at a certain point, so what better way to keep her warm than to have her glued to you like a koala all day?

- She would place her cold hands on your neck just to bother you and then smile innocently when you took them in yours to rub them and blow warm air on them. That smartass.

- Lottie is tall (at least a lot taller than me) and I think she would have a lot of growth marks, you don't grow like that as a teenager without some.

- Light streaks on the back, hips, legs and thighs that would vary in tone over time. I think she would have the habit of hiding them so that people wouldn't comment, wearing long stockings with her skirts at school parties.

- She would be so flustreaded if you showed that you liked them by running your hands up her inner thighs, scratching her back gently to feel the smooth texture of the taut skin. It makes her feel so loved.

- She has sun spots on her face, around her eyes and cheeks. You think it's so beautiful that you could admire it for hours, anywhere, but you usually do it in bed in the morning.

“Are you watching me sleep, dear?” Lottie mumbles as she wakes to find you giving her a love gauze.

“Hm-hm,” you deny quietly, “‘Not watching you sleep. I’m watching you.”

“Oh.”

jackie taylor

- Now, Jackie would have stretch marks and be completely insecure about them. The girl needs constant validation about everything that concerns her and you better give it to her, she just wants to feel loved.

- Marks on her hips and chest that most of the time wouldn't even be visible, but she would still remember they were there. You run your hands down her sides as gently as possible and she will have tears in her eyes as you snuggle, heart warm.

- Your support helps her feel more comfortable with her own body over time, but she still wants compliments every day and will give you hints ‘til you comply with her requests.

- Jackie has freckles! This is actually one of the things she likes most about her face, the trail of dots around her nose and eyes. She’ll melt into a puddle on the floor if you start to kiss them one by one, but will lose patience if you decide to count them and stop the act of leaving wet kisses on them. She's not very good at waiting.

“Babe!” She whimpers.

“Just a second, sweetie, I’m almost finishing.” You continue, a look of pure concentration on your face, muttering “35, 36, 37…”

“No.” She says, hand grabbing the collar of your t-shirt and pulling you against her, “Come back now.”

- Jackie isn't necessarily icy, but she gets cold very easily and isn't shy about asking for your coat or jacket when you're together. Your girlfriend is a princess, better treat her like one. She'll squeeze her body against yours in bed and steal the blankets to stay warm.

- She has spots on her arms! Hundreds of light spots on the outside of the wrists to the shoulders, it's almost imperceptible, but so cute. Make sure to always let her know how beautiful she is.

misty quigley

- I think Misty has acne scars on her shoulders and cheeks, little red dots spreaded. She don't mind it most of time, but can be very insecure about it.

- She would be really suspicious if you just showered her with compliments out of nowhere just ‘cause you think she’s upset, so acting is better. Actions speak more to her.

- Place soft kisses on her shoulders, gently bite her cheek so she rolls her eyes in that nervous way she does. Make her feel beautiful as she is – because she is.

- She would be so pleased with you spoiling her that she would pretend to be sad about it a lot of times just to get your attention, she is an evil little genius. It’s captivating.

- She has freckles too! Little dots on her face so lightly that you only see them when she takes off her glasses, but they are there.

“I kiss you everyday, how did I never notice your freckles before?”

“Oh, I don't know.” She shrugs innocently, “Maybe you should take a closer look, baby.”

- She thinks she's so smooth but in reality she's a mess, the girl can't pick up social cues to save her life.

tai turner

- Okay so, Tai is the type who takes the football really seriously and works hard to win and to do that she would try to stay in shape as much as possible. I can easily imagine her doing extra training sessions and her friends teasing her about it, ‘cause Tai, it's a high school team.

- Because of this, I think she would have stretch marks on her back and calves, light fine lines that stand out against her dark skin. These are marks of her effort, so she shows them with great pride.

- She gets very smug and her skin crawls when you run your nails over the marks on her back.

- Tai is strong, strong enough to break someones leg on the field (sorry not sorry allie) and will show off for it whenever she gets the chance. She likes to wrap her arms around you from behind and lift you off the ground when she's passing by.

- She has sun spots on her face and arms! You think it's so cute, but if you say something silly and cheesy about it she'll roll her eyes and tell you to stop embarrassing her.

You sigh, “You are so, so pretty, Tai.”

“And you are so, so lame.” She echos, “...Come here, let me kiss you.”

- Happy wife, happy life. Always make her feel appreciated, she deserves it.

#yellowjackets x reader #lottie matthews x reader #nat scatorccio x reader #natalie scatorccio x reader #van palmer x reader #misty quigley x reader #taissa turner x reader #shauna shipman x reader #jackie taylor x reader #yellowjackets #yjs #yjs headcanons #denwrites

[maraschinomerry]

Hi! Could you please write a Lockwood x reader fic involving the prompt: You aren't well, but you don't want to skip training and make them worry, so you continue on as usual, thinking it's not that serious. But that's proven wrong when you faint right in front of them mid-fight. Mixed with the dialogue: "You hold it like this and- why are your hands trembling?" Thank you in advance! 💙

Pretty Boy

Pairings: Anthony Lockwood x gn!reader

Content: mild swearing, whump (fainting as in the prompt), mentions of not eating or sleeping, cute flirty ending

A/N: thank you for such a great request!! I've actually also just got over being not well while I was writing this (I'm fine now and wasn't this bad!) so it was weirdly cathartic 😅

Word count: 2.3k

The blissful quiet of the kitchen at 35 Portland Row was shattered by an incredibly loud, almost violent sneeze. You threw your arm across your face just in time to catch it. That was weird. You never sneezed.

"Bless you," Lockwood frowned over the top of his magazine.

That was day 1.

On day 2, you were all out on a case, in a dilapidated Victorian house. In a divide-and-conquer strategy for such a big place, Lockwood and George had headed upstairs while you and Lucy stayed on the ground floor. Fumbling around in the dim light of the dining room, Lucy threw open the curtains to let in what was left of the evening sun, accidentally unleashing a cloud of dust which shimmered in the beam of your torch. You both coughed a little in surprise.

Your coughing didn't stop for the rest of the night.

Day 3 was spent relaxing, recovering from getting home in the early hours of the morning after a gruelling fight with a pair of Type Twos. Or rather, everyone else was relaxing. You were in your room, fluctuating between wrapping your shivering form in your duvet and throwing it off so you wouldn't melt into a puddle. The bowl of soup you'd made yourself for lunch grew cold where it sat untouched on your bedside table.

A sleepless night heralded the arrival of day 4. Your symptoms had mostly abated by the evening, and you desperately hoped to claw back a few hours of rest. By dinner time, bleary-eyed, you forced yourself downstairs to try and get at least one meal of the day. Fortunately, the kitchen was empty, so at least you didn't have to explain your recent lack of presence to anyone. Unfortunately, none of the contents of the fridge were even remotely appealing right now. You settled for a slice of toast which you took back upstairs. Two bites in, you felt your stomach flip. Great. The rest went straight in the bin.

A gentle knock sounded on your door the morning of day 5, after another night of tossing and turning without ever drifting off.

"Yeah?" you called wearily.

Lockwood poked his head in, dressed in a loose Henley T-shirt and sweatpants. "Morning. Just thought I'd check you were alright, you didn't come down for training." Oh shit. You and Lockwood had been doing weekly training together for months - it started not long after you joined the agency, when he'd come down to the basement for practice and found you already there, and you'd ended up sparring. It had happened a few more times, and eventually you fell into the habit of both going down on Friday mornings so much it became an unofficial appointment.

"Oh, sorry," you swallowed a yawn. "I lost track of what day it was. Give me five minutes."

"I sort of assumed you weren't coming down dressed Iike that." He nodded to your fuzzy pyjamas with a smirk, and you tugged shyly at the hem of the top. "Have you had breakfast?"

"Yeah." That was a lie. Lockwood studied you for a moment, and you wondered if he could see right through you, but then he nodded to himself.

"Alright, see you downstairs." He began to leave, but popped back at the last second. "I'm not saying the pyjamas are a bad look, by the way, they're cute, just maybe a bit warm for fighting in." He grinned again, and disappeared. What was that supposed to mean?

—

Five minutes later, as promised, you traipsed down the basement steps in runner shorts and a tank top. This was the last thing you wanted to be doing right now, but you loved getting one-on-one time with Lockwood and knew how much it would hurt him to break the tradition and how concerned he'd be about you if he found out you'd been ill.

Lockwood gave you another puzzled look. "Are you sure you're okay?" He'd seen you this low energy before, but normally only the day after a case.

You gave the most convincing smile you could muster. "Fine. What's the plan?"

He furrowed his brows once more, before apparently deciding against whatever he was thinking. "Okay, there was a new move I figured out on the last case. I thought I could teach you and see if you think it's any good?" That last part sounded so open and vulnerable. You could imagine what he was thinking - was it a fluke? Was it him overselling his talents? Did it look ridiculous? He got like that sometimes, needed snapping out of it. Reassuring. Your smile was more genuine this time.

"Sounds good, it certainly seemed effective."

You tried your best to concentrate while Lockwood demonstrated the move, really you did, but you were running on empty and the basement was so delightfully cool. Maybe if you just lay down on the floor for a bit, you'd sort yourself out.

"Did you get that?" Lockwood's voice cut through the fog of your thoughts, and you dragged your eyes up to meet his, which were nodding to your hands. You hadn't the slightest idea what it was he expected you to have got.

"Uhh…"

To your relief, he mistook your distraction for confusion and stepped closer to help, carefully off to one side to avoid the blade as his hands rested over yours.

"You hold it like this and- why are your hands trembling?"

You barely registered the alarm in his voice, or the uncontrollable tremor that was indeed present and spreading up your arms. Nothing in your body seemed to be responding properly any more. Did you still have hold of the rapier? Why was your chest so tight, not allowing any air in? An invisible wad had trapped in your throat, and you desperately sucked in a breath through your nose. Gosh, Lockwood smelled good. Lavender and bergamot. And he was pretty, too. So pretty. Those deep dark eyes, gazing at you with so much longing. No, not longing. He didn't do that, did he? Plus, he was frowning too much for longing. Concern? You didn't like it when he frowned. You tried to pout, but your lips didn't move. That was annoying. So were the lights. Had they always been this bright? It hurt. Everything hurt. You needed to leave. Now.

Panic took hold of the last working corner of your brain and sent a jolt of electricity down to your legs which finally reacted, carrying you shakily towards the stairs. You muttered something incoherent, mouth not quite as functional. The effort drained the last dregs of energy, and your legs stopped working again.

"Whoa, whoa-" a voice behind you gasped, hasty footsteps echoing. Who was that? There was someone else down here, wasn't there? You couldn't remember. Wait. There was a pretty boy, right? He seemed nice. You tried to tell him you were okay, you wanted to. As you pitched backwards, the silhouette of the pretty boy swam into view, blocking out the harsh lights above. That was better.

Everything went black.

—

You were laying somewhere warm and soft. That was odd. And it was less bright behind your eyelids. Where were you? Hadn't you been down in the basement? With the cold floor and the cold lights… and the pretty boy? Was he still here?

You tried to call out for him, succeeding only in a groan. The surface beneath you shifted by your feet in response, and your eyelids fluttered open a fraction. There he was. Framed by the golden rays filtering through the window behind him and dappling across his dark hair.

"Hey, pretty boy," you murmured. Proper words; that was more like it. Next step: opening your eyes fully.

Ah.

The pretty boy was Lockwood, brows knitted upwards as he shuffled further up what you gradually realised was your bed.

"Hey." His voice was thick, with the hint of a shake. "How are you feeling?"

You groaned again, moving to sit up. Lockwood instantly reached out, one hand on the small of your back and the other lifting the pillows to prop up behind you. "Been better."

Under any other circumstances, you think he'd probably have laughed. As it was, he huffed out a breath and you spotted a brief tic in his jaw. "That's a mild way of putting it. You collapsed in the middle of training. I had no idea what happened, I thought…" His gaze dropped to his lap as he trailed off. The silence clenched tightly around your heart. Eventually, he spoke again, still not looking at you, voice cracking and barely above a whisper. "I was so worried about you."

The tension in your chest pressed down further, and you thought you actually heard your heart shatter.

"Hey, Lockwood, look at me." You raised a hand, still trembling but for an entirely new reason, up to cup his cheek. At last, he looked. Those beautiful dark eyes were watery, and his nose ruffled as he tried to hold back the tears. "I'm okay, see? I'm here, I'm okay, and I'm so sorry for making you worry."

A warmth spread over the back of your hand as he brought his up to meet it. His fingers curled over yours, thumb rubbing calmingly across your knuckles. Whether the calming was for you or him, you couldn't say. "But are you sure you're okay? People don't just collapse like that, and you've been out all day." Your eyes widened a little as you glanced at your alarm clock. Almost 6. Wow.

"Honestly, it's nothing serious. Kind of stupid, actually; the irony is it all happened because I didn't want you to worry." That made him chuckle. That was promising. You continued. "I was ill - I don't know if it was a cold or flu or what - but that wasn't great to begin with, and then with it ruining my ability to eat and sleep I just… didn't have anything left to give."

You don't know what reaction you expected from Lockwood: frustration, confusion, disappointment perhaps. You certainly weren't expecting him to look quite so… guilty? "Why didn't you say something when I came to find you? We could have cancelled training." It came out sharper than you were expecting. Oh. There was where the guilt came in.

"I didn't want to break the tradition."

"To hell with the tradition if this is what it does to you!"

You faltered. Was it just your current condition, or had your mouth gone very dry? "Wait, I'm sorry, I didn't mean…" You took a steadying breath. "It's not just that. I don't mean it like it's some obligation. I love our sessions! Getting to have that time just for us, having it be our thing, it's the highlight of my week. And it's been a pretty shitty week so I wanted this one thing to be nice."

The fire in Lockwood's words died out, and he almost visibly deflated. His free hand reached up unexpectedly to brush a strand of hair from your face.

"Well, I'm glad it means that much to you, but next time will you please tell me when something's wrong? I can survive missing our date more than I can survive missing you."

Hold on.

You were definitely still ill. Your cheeks felt warm and your heart was pounding against your ribcage. That was the only possible explanation. Definitely nothing to do with the fact that the boy you'd been in love with for months had just called your training sessions a date. Oh god, you'd infected him too, his face was flushed. "Date?" you breathed.

"Only if you want it to be, of course, I don't want to jump to conclusions. Although you did call me 'pretty boy' barely five minutes ago, so I'm sure even George would agree with the legitimacy of my hypothesis." Oh, how you'd missed seeing that smirk he'd grown all of a sudden.

"I'm not entirely sure you can take the high ground on this one, love, when you said even more recently how you couldn't survive without me."

"I think so long as I'm right I can. Especially since, if we're going off who said something last, you couldn't even argue without calling me love."

"I wish we were still holding rapiers, I've got a chance of beating you at that."

Lockwood laughed, all earlier emotions replaced with nothing but tender affection. "Get some sleep, and then we can test that theory." He made to leave, but where your hands were still entwined you tightened your grip a little.

"Will you stay? Please? In case I didn't make it clear enough with fainting, I haven't been doing so great at the whole sleep thing."

When he nodded, you wriggled over to one side of the bed, allowing him to slip under the covers behind you. Everything about him felt cosy, and you snuggled towards that feeling. It took him aback for a moment until he draped an arm over your stomach, gently tugging you closer so the two of you slotted together like you'd been designed to fit one another from the start. His breath tickled your ear, but its constant rhythm slowed yours in turn. Your eyelids grew heavy.

"You know," you mumbled sleepily, "you could take me on a proper date. Only if you want to, of course, wouldn't want to jump to conclusions."

He squeezed you playfully. "I think I've got enough evidence to consider it. Lunch tomorrow if you feel up to it?" You hummed a contented agreement. As your eyes drifted shut, a feather-light kiss pressed against your temple. "Good night, love."

"Good night, pretty boy."

#lockwood & co fanfic #anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood #gn!reader #lockwood & co

[circyexistforcontent]

DRUNK SNUGGLES WITH GOD READER

❀ synopsis- Diluc watches behind the bar counter as their Millenia old lover drinks liquor like they're going to die tomorrow. Basically a Diluc x Reader.

❀ pronouns- none specified

Diluc wonders if Gods have some sort of special connection with wine, or any sort of alcoholic drink that exists. Have the archons maybe inherited their drinking habits from you? He sighs as he hands you another glass of dandelion wine, watching as you giggle at the sight of melting ice.

It was a few years ago when you descended back to Teyvat, festivals have been a regular occurrence when you so much as step foot in another nation. Your acolytes have been trailing you with their tails tucked between their legs, and panic when you disappear from their line of sight. Their behavior was suffocating, so you would sometimes sneak away from your chambers and shapeshift into a civilian.

That was how he met you, when you had too many drinks you accidentally shifted back to your original form when Diluc was going to kick you out of the bar. He let you sleep in his room that night and the morning after he was on his knees begging for your forgiveness. These meet-ups soon became a routine, when Zhongli wasn't looking you would teleport to a secluded area and shapeshift to a civilian and visit Diluc at the dawn winery.

He knows he should stop you soon, he wouldn't want another accident to happen because you drank a little too much. He didn't want Dawns Winery to teleport in the middle of the ocean again just because he left you unsupervised. It was a long process to make you sober enough to fix the problem and you'll try not to cause more accidents. So when you were in your 20th bottle he approached you.

"Your grace, you are drinking too much again," Diluc said as he gently took the bottle from your grasp. You just continued giggling, doodling smiley faces with the puddle of wine on the counter.

"No, I'm not~ I only drank a few glasses." You said as you try to sit up from your chair, only to fall face-first on the ground. Diluc immediately helped you up from the floor, slinging your arm over his shoulder as you continue to laugh through the pain.

Diluc could feel his heart quicken its pace when you lean into him for support, he could feel your hot breath brush at the back of his neck. All his childhood, he has been taught that you are the divine creator, a god above all gods. But seeing you in this state almost makes him believe you are just another drunk yard.

But he knows better, he had the privilege to talk to you casually every time you visit the winery. You were eloquent with your wording, each word that came out of your mouth was spoken with grace. He could feel the kindness seeping out of your form whenever you talked about the people of Teyvat.

He was taking more than he should from you, from talking freely with you to touching you and leading him to sleep in his room. He knows this would be heinous in the eyes of your other followers, goodness knows what your acolytes will do once they discover this. But he allows himself to indulge in his selfishness.

He gently lays you down in his bed, placing some blankets on your form. He was about to leave before your weak voice was heard across the room.

"Love? Is that you?" You tumorously ask.

"Where are you going?" Diluc was confused. Love? Did you think he was your lover? Did you use to have a lover?

"Love, please stay with me. We don't spend as much time together..." You weakly said, trying to get out of bed. Diluc quickly made his way towards you, stopping you from leaving.

"Your grace please don't stand up, you'll fall over again."

"I already told you not to call me that Love." There you go again, calling him that pet name.

"I'm not your lover, your grace." He simply said. You wrap your arms around his own, pulling him as close to you as possible.

"Don't be like that Love, I know it's you. I can tell it's you with the way you look." You twirl his hair with your fingers.

"The way you talk." Your fingers brush against his lips.

"The way you breathe." He can feel your breath brush on his ear, sending a shiver through his spine. He can feel his mind get drunk at the sensation, his vision feeling hazy.

"Sleep beside me Love, it's been a while." He snapped out of his trance as he looked at you like you just grew several limbs.

"Your grace you know I can't-"

"Why not?" You ask innocently, tilting your head. How can he explain to a drunk god that he can't sleep beside them? He knows he's indulging in his selfish desires, but to sleep beside the divine creator would be blasphemy. He wouldn't dare to do such an act.

"You're being too tense, it's not like we're gonna do anything." Before he can refuse you toss him over your shoulder as he fell to the soft cushions of his mattress. You snuggle next to him before he can quickly leave, burying your face on his shoulder.

He can feel his cheeks bloom a shade of pink as he struggles to escape your grip. All you did was giggle as you start to pepper his face with chaste kisses. After a few attempts of leaving he submits to you, deciding that this was a once-in-a-lifetime experience.

He leans into you until both your foreheads were touching, he can smell the familiar scent of dandelion wine coming from your lips. Without realizing you slowly shifted back to your original form, and your [H/C] locks slowly appeared back. His breath hitched, you were beautiful. Seeing you like this feels illegal.

But then again, he broke the law before. What's the difference now?

"I miss being here with you..." You said breathlessly, playing with his red hair as he hums in response. He closes his eyes to relax, enjoying the tranquility of the moment. You closed your eyes as well, letting the familiar sensation of rest engulf you.

#🍒sagau #sagau x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #self aware genshin impact #genshin self aware #genshin cult au #sagau diluc #diluc x reader #sagau headcanons #genshin sagau #sagau diluc x reader #sagau #genshin impact

[pianocat939]

Part 2 of this

A new competitor for the all-reigning Donnie- (Mean Girl)

Tw: brief mentions of murder and blood, MC being sad sad

When Leo notices the bloody sheets the morning after the murder, he's a little confused. Until he catches sight of the headline blaring on the TV. Immediately, he knows that it was Donnie. Since Raph committed felony during the daytime.

He watches your interactions with people and Donnie's expression all day. He feels a little bad, watching you mope around all day, like you were dead inside. He didn't like the person you were dating either, but in a way his morals are far too good to just see you suffer.

So out of Donnie's eye, he approaches you, asking how you're feeling over the whole disappearance. He's not intense or over pushing it. Just simply checking how you're functioning.

Inevitably, he gets on your good side in an instant. Sure, he may be a pick-me bimbo, but he's still nice to be around. Leo knows Donnie is looming over his back, absolutely livid that he's blocking him off.

But Leo could care less.

His sibling was stupid enough to commit a drastic crime after losing all his morals, so he was going to act hero instead. It humors Leo, knowing that his ever-so-perfect sibling has lost it. It's like watching ice melt. Slowly thawing out into a pitiful puddle of water.

After a few months, you're still completely avoiding Donnie, and seemingly unaffected by him (Leo has had some intense fights with Donnie at home).

Leo has slowly dug himself into your heart, and plans to stay there. He's willing to defend his title against Donnie's maniacal ways.

(Idk ig I'm just starting a little war between the two)

- Celina

#rottmnt #yandere #yandere rottmnt #yandere x reader #tmnt #yandere tmnt #tmnt x reader #rottmnt x reader #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #yandere leo #leo x reader #yandere leonardo

[lovejosephquinn]

Please can I request a fic where you are out at a restaurant celebrating and Joe gets handsy under the table ? 🫠🫠

I'm not sure if you've done it but it's literally been on my mind for agers 😂

Keep up the beautiful content 😘

I did the imagine for reader getting handsy/mouthy with Joe at the autograph table, but the other way round has me going feral.

Thank you for reading and thank you for requesting angel 🥰

So that's why Joe had requested the booth in the back of the restaurant. Your anniversary was this weekend and since Joe was away for the weekend with work, you decided to celebrate tonight. You were snuggled up all cosy together just after being handed your glass of wine and ordering your choices of starter, taking a sip when you felt Joe's hand stroke up onto your bare fleshed thigh.

"Excuse you Mr Quinn." You flashed a look down to where his fingers were dancing upward, tugging at the hem of your skirt every so often, his skilful digits causing havoc to the heat between your legs.

"Oh am I doing something I shouldn't be?" Joe muttered lowly. The bustle of other tables sounded loudly across the room, so it wouldn't of mattered if he had spoke with his normal tone. You watched around the beautifully decorated and welcomed dim lighting in the restaurant, hesitating a moment by clenching your thighs together giving Joe a warning, but he only took it as a means to continue, to tease you further. A cloth lay over the table and Joe knew it was a sign that you wouldn't get caught; he knew exactly what his game was and boy was he playing to win.

"We had sex before we left the house and you're deciding to feel me up now?" You hissed, taking another sip of your wine, drowning your frustration in the taste of alcohol that tingled against your tastebuds. Slowly setting it back on the table, your fingers playing with the stem of the glass, trying to take your mind off of the situation arising below. Joe moved his hand up to the side of your face, brushing your hair off the shoulder he sat by off to your back, leaning into your ear.

"I can't help it if my girl looking so god damn sexy all the time now can I?" You shut your eyes, inhaling deeply as his words hit the pit of your stomach, rushing down to your core, his breath lingering in your ear making you almost choke on the oxygen you just consumed.

His hand returning to just below the hem of your skirt, a single finger lightly circling over your skin causing goosebumps to erupt the entirety of your body. He planted a singular kiss to your neck, stringing it out as much as he could, his lips over exaggerating the sound as he pulled away, a smacking sound, licking at his lips. "Taste so good too." Your eyes remained on the area surrounding you, trying ever so hard to ignore the way he was getting to you. He knew he could and he knew he would.

"Baby..." You muttered. His hand disappeared up your skirt and in-between the highest part of your thigh, his knuckles skimming your clothed cunt as he dipped it in between them.

"Open up a little, for me?" He cooed, lips still very much close to your ear, his other arm around you to keep you in close contact. Another way to make it unobvious to others around.

He used utter force on the soft parts of your thigh until you gave up and spread ever so slightly, enough for him to gain just the result he wanted. "Good girl." The praise, the fucking praise. He knew what that did to you amongst everything else.

He bit down on his lip subtly, your peripheral vision caught sight of it and you could've melted into a puddle when his fingers moved up slightly to cup your cunt, he moved gently yet fiercely, feeling the slight pool of slick that was already pressing to the material.

"Always so wet for me." Your legs moved even further apart, you couldn't deny his touch for long, it was just one of the many spells this man had over you. Joe had expertly made sure that the cloth covered your legs, so not even the waiter could tell what was happening underneath. It was to your surprise when they brought over your starters, interrupting the tense moment. You thought Joe would of quit ahead, but he didn't.

His fingers had now been enabled to gain even more access and two fingers were moving around your covered clit, the faintest ache alighted from not being able to get the full feel you now craved. You stopped breathing for a second, trying not to blow your cover, smiling to the waiter as they set your plates down in front of you whilst Joe's darkened eyes moved up to their direction, nodding briefly. "Thank you." Joe uttered, they smiled back and walked away.

"Joe we're going to get caught." You tried to throw him off again, it didn't work. His thick fingers only sped up from your sentiment and you instantly whimpered a highly anticipated moan from the back of your throat as they forced themselves for you to feel it harder.

"Shit, then we'll just have to skip dessert and I'll have my own."

Your face flushed as you looked to Joe's features, staring intensely back at your own, moving himself further in, your lips merely an inch away as he planted a soft kiss onto your mouth. "I'm ravenous for that pretty pussy."

"Ugh." You slammed your hand against his, rubbing faster, eyes moving down to the outline of his cock raging against his trousers, you could almost imagine how much it was leaking from you making that one move against his hand.

Joe pulled his hand away, a malicious smirk on his face which drove you insane. "Happy anniversary baby." He took a hold of his glass, raising it to you, arching his eyebrow and taking a sip of his own drink before moving away and tucking into his food. Fucking tease.

#my asks #joseph quinn imagine #joe quinn imagine #joseph quinn blurb #joe quinn blurb #joe quinn fanfic #joequinn #josephquinn #joseph quinn fanfiction #joseph quinn #joe quinn #joe quinn x reader #joesph quinn #joseph quinn fic #joseph quinn fluff #joseph quinn smut #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn x you #joseph quinn x y/n #joseph quinn x fem!reader #joseph quinn x female reader #joe quinn x y/n #joe quinn x you #joe quinn smut #joe quinn fluff #joe quinn angst #joseph quinn headcanons #joe quinn request #joseph quinn angst #joseph quinn fan fiction

[boba-at-323]

[01:48AM]

Note : Sorry for the delay anon ! I hope this met your standard <3 || Female reader ahead! || Excuse any mistakes 🙏

Jaemin had just come home from a long day of dance practice with the dreamies. As their comeback was nearing, he had to deal with a more packed and difficult schedule. His body ached from hours of nonstop rehearsals as he tried to perfect each and every step. When Mark finally thought that they should call it a day, his first instinct was to run back home to the love of his life.

Exhaustion wasn’t exactly the right word Jaemin would use to describe what he was feeling, he needed something far more powerful, stronger. He hoped that maybe, spending time with his girlfriend would ease his nerves a bit. As he walked through the door, he saw you sitting on the couch with a book in your hand. Hearing the click of the door behind him, you looked up to meet his weary figure. Being his girlfriend, you knew him too well because you sensed his tiredness as soon as you saw him.

"Hey, babe," you got up and walked over to give him a quick kiss, “How was practice?”

The small gesture itself followed by your warm smile made Jaemin’s heart swell, making him want to melt into a puddle right there. He couldn’t believe the effect you had on him, your slightest touch making all the stiffness in his body disappear into thin air.

"It was good, but I'm really worn out," he replied, wincing as he stretched his arms.

You immediately knew what he needed. As the both of you made your way back to the couch, you patted the empty place next to you. 

"Come here," you said, motioning for him to sit next to you, “I know what you just need.”

Once Jaemin was seated beside you, you started to drag your nails softly along his back. Your action caused him to let out a contented sigh, feeling the tension in his muscles slowly dissipate.

Figuring that your plan was going in the right direction, you continued doing so. You started at the base of his neck all the way down to his lower back, gently scraping against his skin. Jaemin felt goosebumps form all over his body, and he leaned back into your touch.

As you continued to scratch his back, Jaemin's mind started to drift. After a long while, he actually felt relieved. He thought about how lucky he was to have someone who knew exactly what he needed without even having to ask.

Eventually, he felt his eyelids start to droop as he relaxed into your touch. Your nails constantly moved down his back, tracing the curve of his spine. Jaemin shivered, feeling the sensation all the way down to his toes. It was a feeling which he wanted to last for eternity.

"You have no idea how much I love it when you do this," Jaemin murmured, his eyes still closed.

"I know," you softly giggled at his reaction, "I’m glad my plan worked."

You sat like that for a while longer, just enjoying each other's company. Jaemin felt himself drifting off to sleep, but he didn't want to move from your touch.

Slowly, he opened his eyes, feeling fully relaxed for the first time all day. He turned to look at his girlfriend, a smile on his face.

"Thank you," he said, leaning in to give you a kiss of gratitude.

"Anytime," you replied with another warm smile, “Let’s get to bed, shall we?”

“I’d love that” a content hum left his lips at the thought of going to bed with his favourite girl. 

Title : [01:48AM] || Word count: 595 || Genre: Fluff !! a pinch of angst if you squint ig? || Pairing: idol boyfriend!jaemin x Fem!Reader

Tagging : @armysantiny @jaehunnyy (ily both btw)

#wc : 595 #na jaemin #jaemin #jaemin fluff #jaemin angst #jaemin fanfic #jaemin fic #nct fanfic #nct fic #nct x reader #jaemin x y/n #jaemin x reader #jaemin x you #nct x you #nct x y/n #nct dream #nct dream x you #nct dream x reader #nct dream x y/n #nct dream fluff #nct dream angst #nct dream fanfic #nct dream scenarios #nct fluff #nct angst #🤎 – kyuzu writes #🤎 – jade writes

[t0mcruize123]

Lonely in your nightmare…

I know you’ve got it in your head

I’ve seen that look before

….

Because you’re so lonely in your nightmare

Let me in

This is a John Anderton smut from the movie minority report and contains some hardcore kinda 18+ shi people may find quite horrifying and worthy of jail time so proceed at ur own risk guys🤓 this is ofc for @mqverick so I hope u enjoy it bae it’s all for uuu🫶 Xx

Theres a Chance I could spontaneously burst into flames at any moment.

Johns voice is barely above a whisper as his lips move across my skin; I feel every syllable as goose bumps spread down my neck and across my chest. I have been betrayed by my body from the second he put his hands on both sides of my head and leaned in.

He's barely touched me and yet I'm ready to melt into a puddle at his feet.

He’d come home in a quiet mood and I’d barely had the chance to question him on it before his mouth had been on mine and his hands had been roaming my body freely.

I don't know whether it's the proximity, the sheer adrenaline, or the desire, but every rational thought disappears, and I crush my mouth against his.

He wastes no time sinking his hand into the hair at the nape of my neck, gripping tightly. His free hand slips around my body and palms my ass, making me moan into his mouth.

John is everywhere at once; all I can do is hold on to him and take it, and when his mouth travels down my neck, sucking and nipping, I’m practically panting.

He sinks to his knees in front of me, tugging at his collar and undoing the top button of his shirt. With messy hair from where I've held on to it and flushed cheeks, he looks up at me. His hands run from my ankle to my knee, then back down again, and yep, still close to melting territory. "You sure?"

"Do you have a pen and paper for me to draw you a map?"

I'm making jokes. Why am I making jokes? Why do I find how unimpressed with me he looks right now so funny? And hot?

"I don't joke about consent,” he says softly, leaning forward to kiss the inside of my knee.

"I'm sure." I don't know why I'm sure. I'm sure I shouldn't be sure.

I shouldn't like how he looks hooking my leg over his shoulder. I'm definitely sure I shouldn't be enjoying his tongue running up the inside of my thigh.

He pulls the material of the dress to the side, and when I put on this dress earlier, this is not how I saw the evening turning out. I hear a groan of approval when his mouth gets closer to the apex of my thighs, and he realizes I'm not wearing any panties.

The anticipation is killing me. I know he's doing it on purpose, getting closer and closer, but not doing anything meaningful.

I'm about to open my mouth to tell him to hurry up when his tongue runs between my folds, circling my clit slowly. A loud, desperate moan echoes around the room. I don't even realize the noise came from me until I feel his shoulders move because the jackass laughs.

Fingers tickle up the back of my thighs until they can't go any farther. His huge hands sink into my ass, squeezing at the same time he sucks my clit into his mouth in a way that makes me feel like I'm floating.

I'm a wreck. A writhing, moaning, shaking wreck. Shit. I don't even need to be looking at his face to realize how arrogant he is right now, not that I could- it's buried pretty deep between my thighs.

Sinking my hands into his hair for something to hold on to, a satisfied groan rumbles in his throat and the butterflies in my stomach freaking multiply.

I want to say something smart, sass him in some way. Not give him the satisfaction of knowing hes turned me into a whimpering mess in a matter of minutes.

One of his hands moves from my ass cheeks, and when I look down, a pair of dark eyes are staring back at me. They stay burning into me, watching me closely as two of his fingers slide into me, finding my G-spot in seconds.

Fuck. His pace increases as he pumps his fingers in and out of me, perfectly coordinated with his tongue, and if he wasn't holding up my entire body with his mouth, Id have toppled over by now.

The feeling keeps building, hands tug harder at his hair as I cry out, my heel digging into the hard muscles of his back as I desperately try to move my hips to ride his fingers.

"John,” I whimper. I'm wound so impossibly tight I can't breathe. "John, I'm going to cu-“

I don't even get the words out as every part of me spasms and I scream, everything tingling and throbbing as I tighten around him, bucking and thrashing, pleasure and heat flooding my entire body.

Removing his fingers and mouth, he leans back so he can look up at me properly, wearing the smuggest expression I've ever seen as he sucks his fingers into his mouth, not once breaking eye contact.

Oh fuck.

Our mouths smash into each other in a crazed, drunk, display of built-up sexual frustration, and I taste myself on his gleaming blush lips. Gripping the back of my thighs, he lifts me, letting my legs wind around his waist.

There's nothing romantic about what's happening. My body is pushed between his and the door, our tongues fight for dominance as his hands sink into my ass cheeks. A tortured whimper escapes my lips when he grinds his pelvis into me, and I feel how hard he is.

Trailing his mouth along my jawline, he nibbles at the spot beneath my ear, making my whole body quiver. "Tell me you want me to fuck you.”

"You tell me." My hard words lose their impact when he sucks on my neck, and I literally moan them. Before I know what's happening, he sets me down on the edge of the bed and crouches to my feet to take off my shoes.

It amazes me how he can switch from rough to gentle in seconds. When my shoes are off, I tuck my feet beneath my ass and watch him stand. There's a small moment of quiet where we just look at each other. My heart is still hammering, blood burning beneath my skin, everything is sweet and hypersensitive.

His eyes are pouring into mine, so I dont miss the flash of suprise when my hands reach for his belt. "Can I?"

"Fuck yes."

He helps me strip him down until hes standing in front of me in only his boxers, which is the moment I realize there is absolutely no way it will fit in my mouth, or anywhere else for that matter.

John is smirking as I sit gobsmacked. I shake it off because Im not a quitter, and I'm certainly not giving him the satisfaction of telling him how big it is.

My hands up the front of his thighs as i watch him take himself out, tightening his fist around the base and pumping a few times. He bends down and kisses me on the forehead. "Tell me to stop if I'm too rough, okay?"

One hand holds the back of my neck, and the other guides his hard dick toward me. "Stick your tongue out, baby."

I do as I'm told, much to his immediate delight, swirling it against the head, tasting the heady-salty taste on my tongue.

"That's a good girl" I wrap my lips around the tip and suck gently. His hand leaves my neck and immediately sinks into my hair.

"Fuuck" He moans loudly, and just like that, I lose my ability to wait for orders.

Placing my hands on the front of his thighs, I lean forward, taking him until he hits the back of my throat, and I splutter.

A series of expletives echo around the room. His other hand sinks into my hair on the other side as I take control. I wrap my hand around the base and move it in rhythm with my mouth, moaning and gagging, looking up at him with watery eyes.

His head falls back, stomach muscles flexing, deep, satisfied grunts as his hips drive forward, nudging deeper. "So fucking good, baby. You are so fucking good."

His thrusts get harder and sloppy, telling me how close he is, "Oh, fuck.”

His hands tighten in my hair as he orgasms, and I swallow everything he gives me, eyes still watering and throat raw.

I clean up the corner of my mouth with my thumb, licking it clean. "I still feel bratty" I tease. "And impatient."

His laugh is deep, spearing me in a way I'm not used to. A content, post-orgasm glow has flushed his cheeks, his eyes are glossy and wild, and he looks beautiful. "You're unbelievable."

John lifts under my arms to pull me to my feet, tugging at the strap of my dress. "This needs to come off."

"Who's the bossy one now?" I spin on the spot so he can pull down the zip. His lips drop to my shoulder, kissing me all over while he pulls down the straps, and the material falls to my feet.

My entire body feels like it's filled with frantic, untamed energy.

He's being so controlled and slow, purposely torturing me, dragging out the inevitable pleasure. When his hand palms my breasts from behind and his fingers roll my nipples, my ass instinctively rubs against him.

"Ask me nicely" he whispers into my ear. "Then I’ll fuck you so good."

The more john tells me to ask nicely, the closer I get to telling him to fuck himself. I brush his hands off from where they're exploring my body and crawl into the middle of the bed, propping myself up on the cushions. His knee drops onto the bed to follow, but I press against his chest with my foot to stop him from getting any farther.

"Stand at the end of the bed."

He looks confused but curious, eyes narrowing as he walks to the end of the bed. My fingers slip below the material of my panties, shimmying them down my legs.

His eyes widen when he realizes what I'm doing, and he leans forward to grip the bed frame. I spread my legs as wide as they'll go, giving him the perfect view of how dripping wet my pussy is, he'll have no problem watching me plunge two fingers into my self. "Mhmm, John.”

The slick, wet sound is the only noise in the room, other small cries and moans and the occasional "Jesus Christ" from him.

His dick is already hard again, protruding proudly from his pelvis with cum glistening on the end. I take turns circling my fingers against my swollen clit and pumping them in and out of me while John looks like he's combusting.

I think it's the moaning of his name that's doing it and how my back arches as I grind into my hand. "Ask nicely, I tease. "And Ill let you fuck me"

"You're an evil woman" he grumbles, hand rubbing over his face, "Let me make you feel good.”

He moves to the drawer and pulls out a condom, tearing the packet and rolling it onto himself. Crawling slowly toward me, he settles between my thighs and reaches for a spare pillow, instructing me to lift my hips so he can put it under the bottom of my back.

I can't concentrate on what I'm supposed to be doing to myself because he's on his knees between my legs, body looking like its been sculpted by the actual gods and a thick, long, hard dick. "Do you want me to fuck you?"

"Yes." Yes, I do.

John leans his body over mine, one arm supporting his weight and the other gently cradling my head. I reach between us, rub the head over my clit, making us both shudder, and line him up.

"I'll be gentle" he murmurs, affectionately nudging his nose against mine.

I sink my teeth into his bottom lip, immediately running my tongue over the same spot. "Don't be gentle. Fuck me like you hate me."

He holds the back of my head to keep my mouth next to his, absorbing my loud, satisfied cry when he slides in, stretching me slowly.

“I'm going to fuck you like this tight little pussy is mine. You'll take it like a good girl, won't you?"

I'm soaking wet and gripping him so fucking good, it's hard to believe I'm expected to do anything else ever again.

It's taking every shred of self-control for John stay still and let me adjust, knowing my bossy ass will let him know when im ready.

"You just had to give me all of it, didn't you? Fucking show-off.”

My fingertips travel across the planes of his back as my hips begin to move, the sign he needs to pull back and thrust forward again.

"I'm only giving you half" my hooded eyes snap wide open, and I sit up to look down at where our bodies join. "But I think you can take more."

Pulling back, he thrusts forward as far as he can until he meets resistance. My nails sink into his shoulders, and my arching back pushing my stomach into his, “Oh my God."

"You feel so fucking good, such a perfect pussy." My legs wrap around his hips, ankles crossing at the bottom of his back, tightening to keep him there deep inside me.

"John,” i whispers like a prayer. His head falls to my shoulder, pressing his lips to my collarbone, then up my neck until our mouths are crushed together, a desperate thrashing of tongues and lips.

One hand tugs my hair, and the other claws at my back. Im so close; I writhe beneath him, my breath hitches when the end of his cock brushes against my G-spot, my face twists with ecstasy when he goes deeper.

He removes the hand cradling my head and slip it between us, thumb rubbing against my swollen clit until my whole body is arching and my jaw drops.

"Come all over my cock,,” he murmurs, “Give it to me."

My entire body tightens as i cry his name into his shoulder, nails sinking so deep I'd be surprised if i havent drawn blood. With my pussy pulsing around him as he slows down, john press his lips against my forehead and roll us over so he’s on his back. His cock still buried inside of me, my body is soft and limp on his chest.

"That was . .. " i pant, "You are . .. Did you come?"

"Not yet. I wanna watch you ride me."

My eyes shine as a coy smile envelops my face. He knows he’s fucking in for it now.

I sit up straight, sliding down his dock slowly until I’ve taken every inch. I feel him everywhere all at once and my thighs instantly dampen without a sliver of space to move.

"Like this?" I asks gently, brushing the hair from my face. He nods with his lip pulled into a slight smirk, his hands sinking into my hips.

My hips swirl and grind down and I smile at the breath caught in Johns throat, “Or like this?”

"Yeah, baby, just like that" his voice is so strained i force his cock in even deeper. Placing my hands on his stomach, I lift up and down and try to focus on the movement rather than the flutter of his eyelids or the gleam to his lips. A bolt of pleasure crashes into us hard and he grips my hips so hard I’ll have marks for days.

"You're incredible, fucking incredible."

Every rock of my hips is the perfect rhythm, and I'm losing my mind. He snaps his hips up as I come down, and my head falls back.

"Right there, yeah, right there ..”

Collapsing onto his chest, Johns fingers reach up to grip my hair.

Still rocking back against his thrust, the satisfying sound of slapping skin echoes around the room, and I'm suddenly glad we’re alone in this bed.

Johns body is perfect; strong and flexible, but none of that even matters when it comes to how fucking good it is feeling an orgasm rip through him.

"You gonna come for me again?" He teases as my legs tremble and my fingers dig into his skin.

John mumbles something incoherent under his breath, his flushed skin shimmering under the bedroom light, an exhausted, satiated look on his face while I takes every inch like a fucking champion.

John wraps his arm around my waist to keep a hold and slips his other between our joined bodies. Applying light pressure to my clit, sends me shattering and crying out for more. My hips buck as I ride out the orgasm, and John crushes his hand down on my lips, muffling my screams.

He slaps his hand against my ass cheek, rolling me onto my back again. Pulling out of me, I whimper in disappointment and he flips me onto my stomach. Without a moment of hesitation, he grabs me wrists and pins then to the bed above, locking me in.

"I can't go again." I moan, "I can't."

He tugs my hips until my ass is in the air and pulls my hair back in a makeshift ponytail, “You wanna stop?"

I Look back over my shoulder and shake my head, my thighs dripping and my eyes hooded.

"Good, hold on to the bed,”' my hands reach out and grip the bars of my bed frame, head resting against a pillow as he positions himself behind me.

I genuinely don't think I've ever been this wet. His wrists pin mine down so tightly I moan in a mix of pleasure and pain and his cock takes extra time to circle over my sensitive clit, leaving my whole body shuddering. He lines up and sinks into me again, and I meet his thrusts as he pushes forward. My ass bounces off him and he goes even harder, his hands perfectly meeting the curves of my hips.

“Whose pussy is this?” He murmurs and pushes my face further into the bed.

“John,” I moan as saliva dribbles down my lips, “it’s yours.”

He instantly runs his tongue along my shoulder to me neck, tasting the salty sheen on my skin. One hand snakes up my body to my tits and the other cups between my legs, feeling his cock move in and out as I bounce in rhythm. My entire body trembles, my chest heaves, and my pussy throbs.

“It’s too much, too good- I can’t”

"Don't be a quitter,” his fingers slowly tease me, deliberate and controlled and my hips buck and grind, eyes rolling back. His mouth crashed against mine as I screamed, squeezing him so fucking right he could barely hold back, spilling deep inside me.

His hand wrapped around my throat and pulled me closer to his face, our lips only inches apart and our breath combined as one. His eyes looked down into mine with an insatiable desire, and I whimpered as his thumb slid across my lips. Dipping his fingers into my mouth, I sucked the tips eagerly, tasting myself and john with a small moan. I never once broke eye contact and his fingers only moved further down my throat, allowing me to taste all of him.

Fuck I loved this side of him. But not nearly as much as I loved his whiny, submissive side. He’d almost forgotten he was about to get fucked in the ass soon with a 6 inch strap; but he was blinded by his need to have me suck him like a good girl.

I drew back with a small smile, “You don’t get to cum yet John. I want to be deep in your ass when you orgasm, desperate for release.”

His eyes widened ever so slightly in surprise and I pushed him back onto the bed. A smirk pulled at his lips as I spun him onto his back, my lips sliding down his bare back.

“How do you like the roles being reversed?” My fingers scraped through his hair as I pushed his face further into the bed. I reached into the drawer at the side and pulled out the strap on. Applying a generous amount of lube, I lined it up with his ass and pushed John further into the matress. When the strap on was attached and he was sweating and ready, I slowly pushed into the hole. John instantly hissed from the stinging burn and moaned in a blissful mix of pleasure and pain.

“Oh fuck fuck,” I’d barely pushed in and he was a moaning mess, writhing beneath me and hot with a thin layer of sweat. I pushed the wet hair away from his sticky forehead and allowed him time to adjust to the strap.

I bent over his back and my tits brushed against his skin, so I could whisper in his ear,

"Theres a good boy for me, now tell me when I can start moving again.”

He inhaled sharply and after a few moments he nodded with a slight pant. I pulled almost all the way out before slamming back in again, thrusting at an angle that drove him insane. His moans were the most divine sound and as I slammed into his body, I sucked and kissed all over his back and neck, leaving bruises and hickeys in my wake.

“Fuckk I’m gonna cum, oh fuck, god I’m close,” he was whining and moaning and begging as I drove him closer and closer to the edge but refused to let him release.

“Not yet John,” I stopped again and he moaned in fustration and pleading. His whole body shook with pleasure and I pulled his hips impossibly closer to mine. He desperately tried to buck his hips back onto the strap with little success.

“I need to cum fuck,” he whined and I rubbed my hands up and down his aching thighs. I knew it was cruel and I’d be punished later but I was having too much fun with this.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No god no,” he panted as I pounded into him once more. His neck flushed pink with heat and his hands gripped the frame tightly.

“Flip over John,” I panted, grinding my teeth together, “Go onto your back.”

His shaky arms lifted himself up and he rolled over onto his back to please me. My eyes met his, and I slowly pushed into him, knowing it wouldn’t take much to get him to cum in this state. I put my hands on the sides of his hips and I was surprised John had lasted this long. My tongue glided across his adams apple and my teeth scraped across the sensitive skin at his neck. He was visibly trembling now, begging for release, moaning for more, straining to have me fill him deeper.

Johns hand travelled lower to his own dick and I pinned his hands above to stop him from touching himself.

“Please,” John whined, unable to deny another orgasm. I smiled as my lips separated from his neck and I pushed into him one final time.

“Good boy,” I murmured into his ear as my hand lowered to wrap around his cock. Cum splattered all over his thighs and I thrusted so he could ride out the orgasm. I slowly drew out of him and realised just how much of a mess we’d made.

I unhooked the harness and put the strap on the bedside table. His face was flushed with sweat and he was still panting for breath, dripping and trembling in a moaning mess. I kissed him once more, sucking on his tongue and feeling our saliva drip from our chins before getting up to shower.

“Where do you think you’re going without me?” He pulled himself up and shoved me into the shower door, pressing my hands behind my back and turning on the shower head.

“John I can’t go again,” his mouth crashed against mine before I could complain, a low groan coming from the back of his throat.

“Oh you can,” the corner of his lip lifted in a menacing fashion, “And you will.”

#tom cruise #romance #smut #fanfic #minority report #Spotify

[themistressdomme]

Oh I fear you underestimate my neediness! I think simply grinding on your leg after so much teasing would be enough to make me cum! I’m curious if cumming without permission would have any consequences…guess I should write about that scenario next…but I also have another one in mind, but fiiirst back to this!!

Being able to finally brush my pussy against something more than just the teasing air, it would make me whimper needily while clasping my hands around your leg not caring how desperate I look. I would almost shrink under your watchful eyes, fully dressed while I’m sitting at your feet with only my panties and the toy inside me otherwise fully nude, nipples hardening and goosebumps of excitement all over my body.

Basically drooooling over your strap, especially if you tell me “your throat is mine to use, my hole to ruin”🫠 I’m almost sure there will soon be a puddle of wetness underneath my panties from how horny it’s making me. Telling me how you will love to see my tummy bulge just like my throat is, looking all pretty and used for you. Especially with the praise/degradation combination, makes me go weak at the knees! Makes me want to be the perfect toy for you, to abuse my holes, make me cough and gag around the strap but letting it slide down my throat each time till there is drool and tears all over my face.

I would be eager to clean up your strap, and with the toy vibrating inside of me and my uncoordinated hip movements buckling against your leg I’m sure I would look extra desperate and pathetic. The strap cleaned up with my mouth but my mind is already thinking about it disappearing inside my wet pussy, clit throbbing at that thought. Not even noticing your arms grabbing me until I’m already getting pressed into the couch. And oh I love it when the sadistic mommy in you comes out (not that it isn’t always around ofc😘) but I might be a bit embarrassed at how wet it sounds when you start slapping my pussy…drenched from the teasing and from how turned on the deepthroating made me🫠

I would beg soooo prettily for you! Desperate to feel your strap inside of me “pleaseee mommy fuck me please! I need to feel you inside me please fill me up!” until I cry tears of despair, my legs spread wide for you like an invitation.

The feeling when you finally fill me would be indescribable, I might just cum right there and then when you brush your fingertip over my clit, back arching and pussy squeezing around your strap. Finally, finally being filled by mommy and feeling so good I might need a moment to come back to my senses while you keep fucking me, pushing all the way inside me against the resistance to make me feel properly filled. I hope your arms are strong, and a bruise shaped like your hand will be the perfect reminder of how good you fucked me, taking me right back to the ecstasy I felt when you fucked me with your hand wrapped around my throat holding me down. I would love to be Mommy’s doll and I would thank Mommy after each orgasm she gives me until my voice is hoarse from screaming and cumming so many times! Of course I will clean up your cock Mommy, probably with my cheeks blushing as I see what a mess I left on your strap, or maybe still dizzy from the hard fucking and needing your hands to lead me to your strap again so you can give me another deep throatfucking.

Ufff and seeing you still standing infront of me with the harness ugh I might melt right there on the floor! But we can’t have that, the evening just started and is about to be continued in the bedroom. My legs-shaking or not- will be spread to show you what a mess you left my cunt, swollen and puffy from the hard pounding and my clit pulsing with the reminiscence of the orgasms I had. But since my pussy is glistening wet, it should be fucked again right?

part 1

Oh, my cutest little toy, you really think cumming without permission has no consequences? When I'm the sadistic Domme in question? You make me cackle 😘😈 Oh I look forward to your next scenario 😉

Aw, my sweet toy. Being given the go-ahead to grind your pathetic little cunt on my leg sure would make you whine needily, hm? That's a good little toy, knowing her place. You look so good down there after all, doll. Show me exactly how wet you are, hm? I'll watch you like a hawk as you greedily grind against my leg. I bet you'll so so pretty and so small down there, won't you?

Your throat is mine to use, darling. You're just a cute little set of holes for me to ruin, aren't you? Such a good thing. Let me see you drip for me - otherwise, how will I know you're a needy little slut for me, sweet? 😘 Yes, I'm positive that you'll look so lovely with by cockbulge in your tummy as well as in your throat. Mommy will make sure to ruin both holes and fuck them deep, hm? You may cough and gag when I'm pushing myself deep into your throat, but you won't stop. You're just too needy of a good toy to stop me. You'll take every single inch as I give it to you, gratefully, as I go deeper and deeper down your throat. My, my, won't you look so fucking pretty with tears and drool running down your little face? Every time I pull out to let you breathe, you'll thank me, won't you? Such a good set of holes for me you are. I'll make sure to keep going until you tap me each time, telling me you need to breathe. Aw, darling, don't worry. I'll let you breathe, if you must.

Oh, just an uncoordinated, desperate mess? All for Mommy? Well that's just what I need from my pretty fucktoy. You're already thinking about my strap disappearing into another hole of yours whilst your mouth is still busy, hm? I think you've got too much of your brain still working. Let me fuck your tight throat until I have you as nothing more than a whimpering, babbling mess from sheer desperation and neediness. I'll be obsessed, watching myself deep inside your throat, over and over again.

That is, until I've had enough of your pretty mouth, and I want to fuck your pretty, dripping pussy. You'll beg so prettily, I just know it. I'll pin you into the couch, and you'll barely be able to squirm, let alone move. That's okay, Mommy just needs your pretty hole, darling. And won't I be able to see it open, dripping, and ready for me? If you beg like that, I might just be so tempted to bottom out in you on the first thrust, hm? But I'm sure my perfect little toy can take it. You're a good little slut, after all. Tears of desperation on your face as well? Aren't you a sight for sore eyes 💋 Maybe I'll hold out a little longer to see how pretty you cry for me. You're such a slut, aren't you, crying because you're just so desperate to be fucked out 😈

I'll tease your wet cunt, first with my fingers. Featherlight touches, just to see how sensitive and worked up you are already. One light touch to your clit and you're arching and clenching around nothing, hm? Hold on, let me fix that for you, my pretty slut. I'll smack your pussy a few times with my length before bottoming out in you completely. I sure would feel you squeezing around me, won't I? A pretty pussy for me to play with, that's what you are 💋 Take all the time you need to come back to your sense, but I'm not going to be stopping for you to adjust 😈 You wanted to be fucked? I'm going to fill you up and fuck into you, hard. Resistance or not, I'll pound into you like the perfect little fuckdoll you are for Mommy. Oh darling, my hands are strong. I've been told I have a death grip, so I hope you're ready for some beautiful marks on your body, hm? You've got such good manners, remembering to thank Mommy after each and every single orgasm I give you. Good girls get to cum again, and again, and again. Oh, you're sensitive? Well, get over it, because I love making you cum and I'm not stopping.

Mommy might not even give you any time to recover before I lift you up from my cock and tell you to put your pretty face hole to use once more, cleaning up the filthy mess you left over me. Aw, poor thing, are you embarrassed at how hard you came all over my cock? Look at it. Really look at it. Your wetness and creaminess, glistening all over it. Clean it up like the complete package doll you are, hm? 😘 Do you need my strong hands to guide you? To keep you in your rightful place, face first on my cock? That's alright, sweet, but you're going to thank me by taking me into your throat again. God, I love fucking your throat. You become so drooly and your eyes glaze over like the good doll you are.

I'll stand right in front of you with my harness on, darling, whilst you're on your pretty, red and bruised knees, mouth and throat full of my strap. My, my, you'd look incredible like that.

Good girl. Keep those legs spread for me - Mommy likes to admire her handywork, after all. Cunt all swollen, red, and puffy from everything it took, hm? Such a good hole for me to use 😘 And yes, of course. A glistening wet cunt means that it should be a well-fucked cunt. Come on, now, the night is still young, and I'm not going to be finished with you until I've made you give me every. last. drop. of your arousal.

(part 1)

#bd/sm blog #sapphic nsft #wlw ns/fw #wlw nsft #wlw bd/sm #bd/sm community #bd/sm domme #lesbian #lesbian nsft #wlw smut #sapphic smut #bd/sm smut #answered #little-cute-toy

[ellsieee]

This is my last rambling Unintentional Love Story post and I feel a bit sad that I have to say goodbye until season 2. I think it's going to be a while before another series captures my heart like this one. The last series before ULS that caused this level of brainrot was Word of Honor and that was two years ago. 😅

Taejoon and Wonyoung's story wrapped up beautifully. It brought all the warm fuzzies and I couldn't have asked for a more satisfying ending.

I like the contrast here, with Wonyoung feeling helpless, thinking they're really over, and Taejoon smiling because he realizes that Wonyoung is jealous and that they're definitely getting back together.

Istg Taejoon is being a little gremlin here. That smile on his face makes me think he knows that the way he responded makes it seem like he wants Wonyoung to disappear.

The way pulls Wonyoung into the hug with strength, but then gently cradles his neck during the hug made me sigh with happiness.

I've seen a lot of discussion about the dead fish kissing in ULS and I wanted to address it. I'm not going to pretend they didn't serve us multiple servings of dead fish. I get the criticism, we shouldn't be getting dead fish anymore in 2023 and I too, could have done without the dead fish close ups. However, I stand by my earlier statements that the dead fishes do not detract from the series. Despite the poor kissing skills, all the emotions are there, and isn't that what makes a series great?

The zoomed out shot of them kissing made my toes curl. I love the way that Taejoon is gripping Wonyoung's hands, not letting him go. It's these moments and feelings that resonate with me rather than the actual kissing. Would better kissing or getting rid of the dead fish close ups have improved the series? Probably yes, but only a little. Does it ruin the series as some claim? Absolutely not. I will defend this series till I die.

I loved Wonyoung's tear here. He's just so overcome with emotion and I was too while watching. His love is finally reciprocated again. I'm so happy for them.

YASSSS. Finally. I squealed with joy. Wonyoung's smile is everything. 🥰❤️

Melted into a big puddle of goo again. This is one of my favorite scenes. The way Wonyoung and Taejoon move their arms to hold each other closer, along with Taejoon's patented neck hold had me screaming into my pillow again. 😅

Love Donghee Taejoon bestie energy. Love that grabbing each other by the scruff is their way of communicating. No way is Taejoon going to let Donghee kiss Wonyoung! 🤭

I loved Wonyoung's piss off, I'm not scared of you look to Inho and daddy Taejoon's charging in to protect his boy.

THAT FLEX!! Wonyoung holding hands with Taejoon and then giving Inho that hmpf, loser glance as he is led away shows how confident he is now. Love it.

SO CUTE. I love the handhold with interlocking fingers. 🫠 I have not read the manhwa, but apparently Wonyoung is the one who buys the rings, so he could be checking Taejoon's ring size here. 🥰

Has any other kbl had this much handholding? I really like this shot because for whatever reason I see a heart in the empty space between them.

They are the cutest couple. Love how Wonyoung snuggles Taejoon. Taejoon loves Wonyoung's cutesy side just like me. Matching pjs should be cringe but it's freakin cute when they do it.

Oooo Wonyoung's got lines! 😊 I'm so glad that Taejoon was able to leave his baggage behind enough to be able to say that without feeling like Wonyoung is only trying to take advantage of him.

I'm so happy they released the behind the scenes so we can have both POVs of this hug. Wonyoung looks so happy. I'm smiling like an idiot again.

I love that we got to see Wonyoung standing up to vice manager Jung. Demanding an apology! You get him Wonyoung! But also, when did Jung find out that Taejoon and Wonyoung were dating? When did he find out they broke up? Did Taejoon tell him? 🤔

A picturesque ending. 🥰❤️🫠 I do wish we got a bit of back story on the rings, but it doesn't matter. They're going to live happily ever after, I know it.

It's really over. 😭 I will miss this series so much. It's my favorite kbl ever for now.

In case anyone is interested and missed the other spazz posts: [Ep 1-4] [Ep 5-6] [Ep 7] [Ep 8] [Ep 9]

#my weekly spazzy love letter to unintentional love story #this series is just so good #i can't stop talking about it yet #but at least i can start bringing myself to properly watch some other series now #unintentional love story

[tahitiaw]

I got off work late, I get home and behold! One single light remains on for me so I don't have to stumble in the dark. I walk past open, darkened rooms, a destination being my goal. Then I find you, you're sprawled out sleepily across the bed within the tangle of sheets and blankets. Bits of warm flesh peeking out and seemingly lighting up the room a bit. I quietly take off my shoes, undo my belt and slide my pants off, down my shins. My belt clatters on the floor and I feel you shift in the bed. "Shit" I think to myself, not wanting to wake her up. It goes quiet again and I sigh, pull off my shirt and climb in next to you, feeling the residual warmth of where your body was and where you are now. Just as I find my happy place, my body pressed against yours, one arm around your ribs, the other holding my head up, my leg gently slides between your thighs, you feel soooo good. Warm, comfortable, safe. I move just right and you roll your hips back into me. Pressing my upper thigh into your core, you're sooo wet. My face gets hot and I let out a breathy comfortable moan. I'm guessing you heard me because you nudge my leg down away from your hot wet pussy and roll over to face me. You lazily open one eye and say "hey sugar". Damn you, you know I love it when you call me that. I kiss your forehead, you wrap your arms around my waist and pull me down until our lips meet. Your breath is intoxicating, the taste in your mouth is enough to get me wet as we gingerly rub the tips of our tongues together inside each other's mouths. I rub and scratch your head, attempting to grasp very short hair. You move one hand down to grab my ass while the other strong arm is holding me in place at your lips, right where I belong. You decide to move us, you're much stronger than I am and we roll over effortlessly into the ocean of warm fresh fabric. Your hand runs free over me, feeling my soft curves, nipples, gently dragging near my belly button and slowly touching my lower stomach with your fingertips. "What are you doing baby?" I ask sheepishly. "what do you think?" She says, giving me a super sleepy yet undeniably cocky grin. "But you're so tired!" She ignores my logic and climbs on top of me, our bare breasts becoming best friends as our nipples touch and get hard. She presses her tummy into my wetness, illiciting small groans and panting sounds, she grunts a bit before pulling away from me. I prop myself up on my elbows and try to watch as she reaches into the drawer and pulls out something I can't see in the dark. It looks like restraints but I can't be sure, then her form disappears into the darkness, I whine and try to pull some covers over me. Somewhere from the dark she sees this and holds the blanket, keeping me exposed in the night air. With a swift motion she is right next to me again, as I wonder what she was holding she grabs my hips and pulls me close. Then I feel it, the object she was reaching for wasn't exactly restraints...for me. She pushes my arms above my head with one hand and places the other on my stomach, I look down and notice, she's not caressing my belly, she's gauging how far the toy will reach inside me. She smiles and says " it's OK love, I know your limits, I won't push it in that far". My brain goes blank at the sound of your words and i melt into a puddle for you to fuck senseless

Shit I forgot where I was going with that 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

#lgbtq #wlw #just lesbian things #nsft wlw #sapphic #sapphic nsft #lesbian #lesbian nsft

[teaberrii]

Chapter 6: The Exes (My Worst Enemy is a Cat)

Human by day. Cat by night. That’s how Scaramouche lived until you came back into his life.

Scaramouche/You

Notes: Cross-posted on Ao3. If you want me to add you to the tag list, visit the tag list post for the blog. If your user is not on the tag list, you won't be notified.

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Except, you aren't looking at him. Instead, you're looking at the flyer in your hand. Scaramouche assumes it's from the employee who's currently passing them around to the people in the area. You let go of his hand. But, wait. Is that a faint blush on your cheeks? Or did he imagine it? "There's a mermaid show happening soon," you say.

Scaramouche puts a hand in his pocket. “Do you want to go?”

You still aren’t looking at him. “Yeah, it sounds interesting.” Are you embarrassed? Scaramouche tilts his head slightly, and you turn away. Maybe he’s making you uncomfortable. You finally look at him just as he’s about to look away. “Do I have something on my face?”

His silence is unsettling. Then, you look away. Oh, God. He isn't suddenly going to tell you that you have something stuck in your teeth, right? The thought makes you want to disappear. 

Finally, he asks, “Do you need something on your face for me to look at you?”

You cross your arms. “It’s rude to stare, you know.”

Scaramouche scoffs. “Well, you tell me. Why would I look at anyone else if you're the prettiest girl in the room?” Was that too much honesty? Or just too much? Scaramouche shrugs it off. Whatever. He’s only speaking his mind.

You’re expecting a sarcastic remark to follow. But, when it doesn’t come, you have no idea what to do with yourself. How can he say that with such a straight face? He should be embarrassed, but why do you feel like you want to melt into a puddle right now?

“Scaramouche?” He turns around, and you look past him and see a tall, young woman walking toward him. “It is you! Wow, it’s been so long!”

You watch her give him a hug, and he gently pats her back in return. “You look like you’re doing well.”

She flips her hair and winks at him. “Of course!” Then, she looks at you. “Your girlfriend?”

You and Scaramouche glance at each other. “A friend,” both of you say simultaneously. Well, at least you finally admit that you’re friends now.

The woman smiles slightly. "Oh, okay. I get it." Then, she walks toward you and introduces herself. What you aren't expecting, however, is for her to say, "I'm his ex-girlfriend." You shouldn't be so surprised. It's been so long since you and Scaramouche last saw each other. Relationships happen. You should know. But what is this strange, curious feeling? "We're on good terms, though."

You also introduce yourself. Then, you say, "Scaramouche and I go way back… and we're colleagues now."

“Oh!” She spins around. “She’s your—”

“We’re just about to leave,” Scaramouche says loudly. “It was great seeing you.”

Then, he grabs your hand and drags you away. You look back and see a man join Scaramouche’s ex. She says something to him and then glances at you. A distance away, Scaramouche finally lets go of your hand.

“...She seems nice,” you say.

Scaramouche looks at you. “Yeah. We dated for three years.”

So, why did they break up? You’re curious, but you aren’t going to let your curiosity make you nosy. But for three years? It sounds like it was a serious relationship. “It’s good that you guys are on good terms.”

Scaramouche has a hunch that you're curious. But, if you don't ask, he doesn't want to spill the details. He might be wrong about your curiosity, after all. But, if you are to ask, he would tell you it's because of a difference in priorities. Also, even after three years, if you ever came back into his life, he isn't confident he will choose her over you. Of course, that last bit is his little secret... along with his cat situation.

"We should go if you still want to see that mermaid show."

He probably doesn't want to talk about it, which is fair. So, you nod, and you walk towards the venue. Throughout the show, your mind wanders to Scaramouche. Suddenly meeting his ex makes you curious… has he ever thought about you after you left? Because you sure have.

It was almost midnight, and you were still studying in the library. Your head was spinning, so you took a short water break. Then, with your elbow on the table and your head resting in your palm, Scaramouche suddenly popped into your head. You remembered that you bumped into him at the old school library and he had walked you home because you stayed so late.

To your surprise, you looked out the large window and saw yourself smiling. Suddenly, someone hugged you from behind. Startled, you turned around and saw your boyfriend… but it wasn't he who took you by surprise but yourself who wished that the person you saw was Scaramouche.

You discreetly glance at him, who has his eyes on the show. Maybe it’s just you.

Scaramouche's eyes are on the show, but his mind is on you. He never thought he'd run into his ex, but running into her suddenly makes him think of your exes if any. Have you ever thought about him while you're abroad? Because he sure has.

Scaramouche was sitting in a coffee shop, waiting for his friend to return, when he saw a small group of teens. It was obvious that one of the boys liked one of the girls. From the body language, Scaramouche knew the others were teasing them. And from the look on the boy's face, he kept denying it, while the girl had a deadpan look. Scaramouche slightly smiled. Was that how you and he appeared to your old friends? Two kids who kept denying everything as if their life depended on it?

As Scaramouche watched the group walk away, he wondered how you were doing. Were you eating well? Were you stressed out? Did you find someone? The last question annoyed him. It wasn’t until he turned back that he saw his friend.

“How long have you been sitting there?” Scaramouche asked.

“Long enough to see you looking like you want to be anywhere else but here.”

Scaramouche rolled his eyes. “You could’ve said something.”

“What were you thinking about? You looked seriously annoyed just now.”

“Nothing.”

His friend narrowed his eyes. "Are you sure you weren't thinking about her?" Who? You? Scaramouche wasn't sure of the face he made. But, whatever it was, it made his friend smirk. "So, you are thinking about her!" Then, his friend said a girl's name, who, unbeknownst to Scaramouche, would become his girlfriend for the next three years.

Scaramouche slowly inches his hand towards yours without looking at you until his fingers barely touch yours. Are you hung up on someone? Is that why you didn't brag about your accomplishments and achievements like he did? Scaramouche knows it's ridiculous. How does that have any connection? But, still, now that the thought is in his mind, he can't get it out.

Should you just grab his hand? You’re trying your best to stay calm, but you’re fully aware of his light touch on your hand. Heck. You don’t even know what’s happening with the show anymore. Did he do that on purpose? Or is it by mistake? Is he even aware? You glance at him and see his perfectly calm face. He probably isn’t.

Scaramouche is waiting for a sign. Any sign. He wants to grab your hand, but would that freak you out? Are you even aware your hands are touching? The thought that you might be hung up on someone hurts him… until Scaramouche stops the thought. Maybe he should just ask. You're friends now, right? So it wouldn't be weird… right?

Wait… Scaramouche can’t be hung up on his ex, right? Are you a backup? Oh, God. Is that what this all is? You stop. Okay. Maybe you’re overthinking. So, let’s just ask and gauge his reaction.

"Hey." You're stunned when you and Scaramouche turn to each other and speak simultaneously.

Then, loud applause fills the room. "Thanks for coming to the show, folks!"

You and Scaramouche awkwardly look away from each other and start clapping along with the crowd. Soon, you and he are outside the venue and walking towards the parking lot together. Then, you glance at him.

“You wanted to say something before?”

Scaramouche doesn’t look at you as he says, “...Did you see anyone while you were abroad?”

You are almost to his car when you say, "Yes."

Why is his heart suddenly racing? "For how long, if you don't mind sharing."

“Four years.”

Four years? Sounds serious. What happened? Once both of you are in his car, Scaramouche says, “...May I ask why you broke up?”

“...He cheated.” Scaramouche’s eyes widen. You’re a little uncomfortable at the silence, so you say, “Yeah, yeah, laugh all you want. I’m over it.”

Scaramouche starts his car. “Why would I laugh? Do you think that low of me?” Well, it doesn’t seem like you’re hung up on it.

As Scaramouche drives off, you say, “We dated throughout university. And after we graduated, he proposed.” He what? Oops. Did he just say that out loud? “Keep your eyes on the road!” So, he turns back. “...Even though I said no, we still dated for a bit… until he cheated.”

“...Is that why you came back?”

“That’s partly the reason.”

At a red light, Scaramouche slowly brings the car to a stop. “Then what’s the other reason? A good job?”

You look at him. “Are we playing twenty questions now?”

“If you want to.”

You narrow your eyes. “Well, it’s not fair that you’re the only one asking.”

“I never said you couldn’t.” Then, he smirks. “What’s on your mind, love?”

“Stop with the cringy nicknames.”

“I don’t think it’s cringy.” Once the light turns green, the car slowly moves forward until picking up speed. “I bet you secretly like it.”

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, just like how you loved being called Prince Scaramouche back in the day.”

“Hey, I still do. No shame. I think I live up to that title quite well.”

You suddenly remember that there’s a pet store nearby. “Oh, there’s somewhere I want to go.”

“Well, just say the word, princess.”

That almost gets a chuckle out of you. “You know the pet store nearby?”

Scaramouche merges onto the right lane. "Of course. But why?"

“There’s something I want to get for the cat.” Cat? Wait… are you talking about who he thinks you’re talking about? “I took him home yesterday night.” Then, you look at him. “Why are you smiling?”

“Huh? Oh, nothing.”

“...Creep.”

“I heard that.”

“Good.”

Soon, you and Scaramouche are walking down an aisle of cat toys. First, you stop and pick up a plastic fish. Then, Scaramouche puts his hand on top of yours, and you immediately look at him. "Don't get that one."

“Why not?”

Scaramouche puts a cat charmer in your hand. “He’ll like this one.”

“...And you’re sure of this because…?”

“I… occasionally keep it company.”

You cross your arms. “Oh, you do? Because I thought you said you were allergic.”

"I am," Scaramouche quickly clarifies. "But I'm such a nice person." You scoff and wave the cat charmer around. Then, to your surprise, Scaramouche quickly grabs it. "Just trust me."

“Fine… but if he doesn’t like it, you’re paying me for this.”

“Deal.” As you wander around the store with Scaramouche trailing behind you, he suddenly asks, “...Are you going to take the cat in?”

You turn back. “Maybe. He’s cute.”

Cute, huh? "He is adorable, isn't he?"

You narrow your eyes. “He’s even more of a troublemaker.”

“And why’s that?”

You frown. “He messed up my blankets.”

Scaramouche fights back a grin. “Oh, did he now?” Then, he pats a cat bed on the shelf. “...Well, if you’re thinking of keeping it, maybe you should get a bed.”

You look at it and say, “Nah. I’ll save some money and let it sleep with me.” Then, when Scaramouche says nothing, you look at him. “Are you… blushing?”

Scaramouche clears his throat and looks away. “...You wouldn’t mind?”

“Mind what? The cat sleeping with me?” Now, even his ears are turning red. “Why would I mind? But maybe I should only let him if he behaves.”

You’re already a few steps ahead when Scaramouche mutters, “That would be a good incentive.”

You look back. “Did you say something?”

“...Nothing.”

When Scaramouche drives you back to your apartment, he asks, “...Did you have fun today?”

"It was time well spent."

“Would it kill you to say you had a great time?”

“Did you?”

Scaramouche looks ahead. “Sure.”

You shake your head slightly with a smile. Your hand is on the handle of his car. Should you still ask about his ex? It seems petty, but there’s something that you’re curious about. You turn to him. “Do you still keep in touch with your ex?”

Scaramouche has to let that sink in for a bit. Why do you ask? “We’re on good terms, but we don’t keep in touch. I mean… if you count sending each other birthday wishes as keeping in touch, then sure.” Is that a slight smile he sees? Before you get out of the car, he stops you. “...Are you going to look for the cat again tonight?”

“Why are you so curious?”

"...I just think it might come to find you tonight."

You narrow your eyes. “And that doesn’t sound creepy at all.”

Scaramouche frowns. “Just trust me.”

That night, you've just finished taking a late shower when you hear a knock on your balcony window. You're surprised to see the black cat as you open your blinds. His tail is up, and he looks happy to see you. Just as you open the window, he immediately jumps into your arms. Whoa. Scaramouche's right.

You close the window. Then, you gently scratch its head, and he nuzzles against you. “I got you something today." Scaramouche looks at you and meows. Then, you grab the cat charmer, and as soon as you wave it, Scaramouche immediately holds onto it. Then, he rolls onto his back and starts clawing at it as you dangle it in and out of his reach. Huh. Guess he does like it.

After a while, you let Scaramouche have his way with the toy and ask, "Are you hungry?” Scaramouche rolls back up and meows. You take that as a sign he is. As you prepare his food, Scaramouche watches you with his tail up. You glance at him. “You’re strangely well-behaved today.”

Well, of course, he is. You lean against the counter and go through your phone as he eats. Curious about what you're looking at, Scaramouche eventually jumps onto the counter and walks behind you. Then, he puts his front paws on your shoulder. That's when he sees you're looking at the photos you took with him today. He had sent them to you when he got home.

Scaramouche meows and you glance at him. Then, finally, you put your phone down and pick him up. "Full already?" Scaramouche jumps back onto the counter and nudges your phone with his nose. "What? You want to go through my phone?"

Scaramouche keeps nudging it towards you until you pick it up. He's just curious why you're still looking at the photos. Is that too much to ask? He puts his front paws on your shoulders again. Scaramouche puts his head on his feet, his tail up, as he looks at your lock screen. It's cute that you have a photo of yourself and your siblings on the lock screen. Ooh. And your wallpaper is a nightscape. When you open the picture of you and him again, Scaramouche meows happily.

You give the cat a deadpan look. “Why does it seem like you always want to know about my personal stuff?” Scaramouche looks at you, his pupils wide, and you swear you see him slightly smiling before it disappears. You sigh. “He was my date today.” Scaramouche meows. “...And we bumped into his ex.” He looks at you. Wait. Are you bothered? No way. You close your phone and put it on the counter. “At one point, I thought I was a backup.”

Wow. Can he cat-slap you? But, no. He has to behave. Still, he frowns and starts meowing angrily. Then, he headbutts you. How. Can. You. Think. That. "Hey, what's gotten into you?" You pick him up and fall onto the couch. You're lifting him up, amused by his frown. "...You remind me of him."

Good. Maybe he can telepathically let you know he's unhappy with you. Then, you sit up. "Maybe I should call you Prince." Scaramouche likes the sound of that, so he meows happily. You smile. "Guess you like that name, huh?" Of course, he does.

You put him on your lap. Then, you put your hands behind you on the couch. You tilt your head slightly as you stare at him. And then the words come before you can stop them. "Do you think he's messing with me?" Scaramouche's eyes widen. Is that what you think after the date? You can't be serious. Just as he's about to headbutt you again, you sigh. "...I just don't want to get my hopes up." Then, his heart feels like it's going to beat out of his chest.

You fall back onto the couch. "Ugh. Maybe I'll just sleep it off." Scaramouche crawls up to you. He slowly inches his way past the space between your chest. Then, he puts his front paws on your collarbone and his head down. You gently pet him and say, "Maybe I'll just live with you for the rest of my life."

Scaramouche’s tail instantly goes up. Oh, you will. He’ll make sure of that. You sit up, and Scaramouche jumps onto the couch. “Ready for bed?”

Ready as he'll ever be.

Chapter Seven

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#genshin scaramouche #genshin impact fanfic #genshin fanfiction #genshin impact #genshin fanfic #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche #scaramouche fluff #genshin impact scaramouche