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halcyone-of-the-sea · 7 months

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Hi, I just found your blog, and I love your Simon's fics! I was wondering if i could please request something where Reader and Simon had broken up bc he thought he put her in danger. After a few months, he comes to her after a mission and they spend the night but he leaves before she wakes up thinking hes doing whats best (and all that angsty jazz 🥲🤭) . A few weeks after she finds out shes pregnant and decides to take on her own, as reader thinks simon wouldnt care. But maybe one of the guys see her heavy preggo and tell simon, and hes fuming and super protective mode is on.

Sorry if it is too specific and for the terrible english. I just have this idea, and i dont think i can picture it right. Anyway, thanks for reading this and for your good work on your fics 💗 hope you have a lovely day

—Digging Gaze

⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ

╰┈➤ ❝ [You indulge in a one-night-stand after you'd both called it quits, only, it leads to more problems. When he sees you again, how will he react to the swelling of your stomach?] ❞

You knew it was the effects of a less-than-gentle breakup, but you should have at least cursed him out before you let him have his way with you on the living room couch. You’d woken up back in bed, alone, and had gotten dropped back to where you had been weeks earlier—stuck in the throws of confusion and hurt.

Simon had left you, and he never gave you a reason.

A part of you was heated; pissed off and feeling betrayed by the insult, yet, the rest of you knew that Simon needed to have his reasons—he always did. Even if you didn’t agree with them, and you knew he tended to look at life with a glass-half-empty type of glance.

So that left you here.

You were pregnant.

You’d found out two weeks after you’d slept together for that last time, your cheeks still hot from the memory and your fingers clutching the plastic of a test.

Pregnant.

It had been a shock, a deep panic. The both of you had been reckless. Stupid. And while you had stared at those two pink lines, you felt a sinking in your gut akin to a drowning ship. Should you tell him? It would be proper, of course.

But you don’t think you can face him again after you’d awaken to an empty bed—as if your entire relationship had only been about sex and not the deep nights of confessions and soft brushes of skin. You knew Simon Riley better than he probably knew himself.

And you wouldn’t put this on him.

At seven months, you couldn’t walk as much as you could before—and you would huff for breath as you went up the stairs to change the sheets—but who else could do it but you? Shopping also fell to you, and so, you pushed a large cart around and packed the metal basket with cravings and necessities. That was when you fell to a familiar face.

“Johnny?” You ask, blinking.

The Scot pauses, turning. His brows furrowed for a moment before a kind smile peeled his lips back.

“Hen!” He comes closer, laughing. “Well, I haven’t seen you in a good minute, then. What have you been up to in all—”

The man freezes at the sight of your stomach, jaw going slack as you fight an internal war with yourself to say pleasantries and leave.

“Hell,” Johnny clears his throat. “I guess you’ve been doin’ a great deal.”

You sigh, shaking your head softly. “Thanks, Johnny.”

“I’m just joking, Little Lady.” The man laughs and waves a hand. “Who’s the lucky man then? I’ll have to meet him one of these days.”

Your face blanks and your lips snap shut in an instant.

Blue eyes wait for an answer as the silence laps over itself. Slowly but surely, the realization dawns on his face in a tight pull of horror.

“You can’t tell him,” you interrupt his tight gasp. “Not a peep, MacTavish, you hear?”

“What the fuck,” he breathes at you, hand coming up to his mouth as he glances down at your swelling bump. “Holy hell.”

“Johnny,” you snap, his eyes jerk back to you.

“It’s bloody Ghost’s—”

“You can’t,” you growl, coming closer, “tell him.”

“What do you mean I can’t tell him,” Johnny hisses under his breath, looking at the people passing by and lowering his tone. “You’re pregnant and he doesn’t know!”

“That’s the point,” you ease out, exasperated and feeling drained already. Jesus, you needed to go lay down—your back was killing you. “Johnny,” you breathe, growing softer as you reach out a hand and put it to his arm. He grips it and holds on, looking incredibly concerned. “He doesn’t need to know, okay? That’s a lot of stress on him, and you know what he does for work. Even worrying about me was hard on him, what do you think a child would do?”

“You can’t think like that,” the Scot mutters. “He can help—what, you mean to tell me you plan to do this by yourself?” It isn’t malicious how he says it; Johnny’s worried about you. Incredibly. “Hen, no,” he shakes his head. “No, you can’t.”

“I can, Johnny,” you frown, dread filling your heart. “And I will.”

In the future, you really had to take into account Johnny’s flapping lips when under the spell of alcohol. Maybe you had enough faith in him to watch himself for the last little while of your pregnancy as he had into the latter half of the eighth month.

And then three firm knocks were at your door, and when you opened it, you were face to face with a painted balaclava and frazzled brown eyes.

Those eyes immediately snap down, and not even a word is uttered to your face until then.

The both of you are stone-still. Frozen. Dead to all else.

You swear it was hours of this—standing in the doorway with Simon’s fingers stiff in his pockets and his chest not even moving in a pulse or flare of his lungs. He doesn’t even blink.

“How far along?” His voice is monotone. A low drone in the ringing of your ears.

Damn that Scot.

“Eight and a half,” you say quietly.

Brown eyes shift up to yours. Simon stares, and you see his jaw clench under his balaclava, his shoulders moving. Again a long pause.

“When’s the next appointment—”

“It’s a girl.” You see his eyelids peel back and halt there, watching you. “In case you care to stick around and see her.”

Cruel perhaps, but it was nothing short of how he acted while leaving you.

Simon’s hidden face is slack, stuttering silently for a moment as the light fades outside.

“Didn’t…didn’t know,” he grunts out, blinking quickly.

“I know you didn’t,” you utter. “That was the point, Simon.”

“Johnny told me ‘bout it, didn’t believe him.” His brown eyes swirl, breaking. “Thought you’d mention it if you were.”

“You left,” you breathe. “Why would I reach out to someone that did that to me.”

“M’sorry, I-I don’t…” Simon clears his throat, looking away. His eyes are glossy, fingers moving out of his pockets so his twitching hands can splay out. “Could have explained, but I didn’t know how, Love. I’m not…this isn’t…”

Words fail him just like his ability to explain his emotions. Part of him was angry—angry that you’d gone all this time without reaching out when he could have helped.

A daughter.

But he was afraid, as well. Terrified. You were in the right and he knew it. Simon didn’t know the first thing about being a father…but then again, you didn’t know how to be a mother, either.

This was new territory.

“Marry me,” Simon pushes out with a quick force of breath.

“Wh—,” you choke on air. “What?”

“Let me make it up to you, yeah?” Gloved hands move at his sides, eyes honest but still shiny. “Wasn’t thinking—my fault and I can’t go on if I don’t know you’re safe.” He licks at the corner of his mouth. “...Both of you. Thought leaving would make the best sense, but I was…fucking hell. M’sorry.”

“Simon, there are many more ways other than marriage.” Your anger wasn’t something that could be washed away that easily, even if your heart fluttered at the idea and his apology.

You had more self-respect than that.

“Let me fix this,” he whispers, leaning closer.

Your hand rests over your stomach, staying there as the minutes draw. Simon waits, nervous and his fingers tap on his thigh. You know he’s afraid. You know he’s nervous about what he could bring home from work, even if those are only his paranoia talking in his ear like a demon.

You frown.

You huff.

And you open the door wider.

“The sheets need changing in my room. Get on it.”

The man says nothing before he enters the house and slips off his boots; disappearing into the linen closet.

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myafterlifeisbetterthenyours · 9 months

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what about Valentino, Vox and maybe Stolas when their card declines on a date,yk those couple of gut wrenching awkward seconds before their s/o nervously offers to pay. Thank you in advance if you take this up <3

Wait, what?!

Valentino

"I'm sorry sir, your card declined."

Val sat there for several moments, mind taking a minute as he'd never actually heard those words in that order directed at him.

Turning away from you, he'd stare at the server, the feline demon patiently standing there.

Val sat there for another minute, comprehending the utter fucking audacity of a bitch.

"Your fucking with me right?"

He asked, genuinely giving her a chance to back peddle.

When she just kept standing there, Val jumped to his feet, scowl flaring crossing his features.

"Bitch, I dont need a fucking card, I own the fucking building!" He screamed at her, the girl stumbling back.

He'd go off, snarling at the girl for disrupting your date night, and for something so fucking stupid.

By the end of his rant the restaurant owner had come out, trying to mediate the situation.

He'd chewing him out, asking what kind of incompetent shitheads he hired.

As he did, you'd approach, placing a hand on him. He'd spin around, prepared to snarl at someone, but quickly backed down, shoulders slumping.

You'd take his hand in your own, leading him back to your table, sitting down.

You'd sit in silence for a little while, the restaurant popping up with some 'Complementary Desserts', the two of you eating in silence before he sighed, taking your hand into his.

"I'm sorry for blowing up like that in front of you." He spoke softly.

He was always sure to keep a certain image for you. He did a lot of bad things, far more then even you knew about, as such he did his best to keep a certain image in your eyes.

And loosing his cool and screaming at some girl wasn't helping said Image.

You sighed, smiling as you squeezed his hand.

"It's alright, I'd probably lose my cool too if my employees asked me something like that."

Val chuckled at that, leaning in to kiss your hand.

"I could apologise to her if you'd like?" He asked softly.

To which you'd laugh, scoffing as you waved him off. "Please, as if. That dumb bitch asked you for a credit card in your own club."

At that Val broke into laughter, getting up and stantching you up, kissing you deeply as he carried you out of the restaurant, the two of you only kissing deeper as you left the restaurant, your kissing only getting more heated as you made it to your Limo.

Vox

The night had been set up so perfectly.

He'd gotten a reservation at an extremely classy joint, but not too classy. He wanted it to be like 'yeah, I've got a shit tone of money, but we can still talk without people glaring at us'. That kinda fancy.

So there you were, at the end of an incredible meal, the two of you dining on some very tasty deserts when Vox had given his card, a Luxury very few in Hell had, to pay for your meal.

And as the server came back, the man expecting to be given his card back, instead the server leaned in, speaking those simple words.

"I'm sorry sir, your card was declined."

The Television headed Demon froze, screen glitching as he processed what the actual Hell they'd just said.

Vox turned to the server, staring at them for several moments before he got up, grabbing the server before getting up, and spinning them around, growling at him what the fuck he meant.

He fucking dragged the server away, getting the fucking manager, the two having an exceptionally unsubtle screaming match in the kitchen at the insult to him, Vox, fucking King Teck of Hell, having his fucking card brought back.

After some apologetic words from the manager and getting your meal comped, he'd return.

He'd act as though nothing happened, the man acting all cool and composed, while you just went along with it, finishing your deserts.

And despite the incident, you'd go on to have a lovely night, the man taking you back to his place where you ended the night on a spectacular note.

You had tea, and suggled on a couch and just shared some wholesome intimacy.

Stolas

The night was going incredibly.

You'd been enjoying your meal, talking and laughing, telling stories and jokes, it felt like the science block of a highschool, cause you had chemistry.

The night was going so well, that he was barely aware when he paid the bill, the man in the middle of a hilarious story when the server came back.

"Your card was declined."

He spoke bluntly, with no tact whatsoever.

Stolas froze, head snapping up at him, a frown quickly crossing his face as he stared at the server, the man simply staring back, hand extended, clearly expecting payment.

And so, without missing a beat, Stolas raised his hand, still with a frown, he'd wave his hand, a portal about the size of a dinner plate appearing besides him, before he simply reached in, before pulling out a sack, dropping it before him, the sack opening to reveal a small stack of golden coins.

Pulling out a few he dropped them into there servers hand, telling him bluntly.

"For the bill. No tip."

The server, grumbling to himself, turned and left, the man growling all the way.

Clearing his throat, he'd adjust his attire before turning back to you, finishing his story.

You'd go on to have another desert, Stolas paying with gold, expecting full change.

Which he'd get, with a saide of stink eye from the man.

After the desert and another glass of wine, you'd head back to his, and after another bottle of wine, you'd end up sleeping together.

No, not sex. You'd curl up on one of Stolas' more comfortable couches, the big owl man holding you close, the events of the night long gone from your mind as you slept the night away, comfy and happy in his embrace.

#helluva boss #headcanon #helluva boss headcanon #hazbin hotel #helluva boss x reader #hazbin hotel headcanon #hazbin hotel x reader #x reader #vox x reader #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel valentino #valentino x reader #helluva boss stolas #stolas ars goetia #stolas x reader

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watersunairmoon · 3 months

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erm my first drabble? or thought? idk im just a whore for Satoru Gojo and needed to get the filth out of my brain. be nice to me!!

content warnings!!: mean!dom!gojo, fem!reader, sub!reader, over stimulation, dacryphilia, cervix fucking (kinda?), squirting, degrading and praising, vibrator, pushing limits kinda, passing out, cumming inside, idk just filth okay

MINORS DNFUCKINGI

“oh baby, youre shaking so much~” You could feel his breath tickling your ear, his chuckle sending a chill straight down your spine. The position he currently had you in was obscene- even looking at yourself in your full length mirror the two of you were sitting in front of would normally make you blush. That was, if he hadnt already fucked every worry and insecurity in you out, until it was dripping down your thighs. Back flush against his chest, head lolled back onto his shoulder, gojos tight grip on your waist, legs locked open with his own giving him full view of your leaking cunt around his length. It was enough to make him drool.

“Come on, take a deep breath. Im not even doing anything right now.” The cockiness was evident in his tone, and you could practically hear the smirk on his face. He said it so casually, like he hadnt already fucked you through your 4th orgasm of the night, like he wasnt balls deep inside you at the moment. Damn him and his stupid stamina. You would swear you could feel him in your cervix right now, certain if you had the strength to raise your head youd see the outline of his cock sticking through your lower stomach.

Your belief was quickly proven as you felt his hand trace from your hip, right to where you could feel so much pressure. Gojos slender fingers running along the bulging spot, pressing down and building even more tension in your abused womb. This pulled a whimper from your throat, causing your head to finally raise from his shoulder, only for your heat to clench tightly around him once you saw your fucked out body in the mirror. It was so embarrassing to you how he could reduce you to such a pathetic mess. But to Gojo? It was easily one of his favorite things.

“T-Toru, please, i cant…” You whine at the feeling of being stuffed so full, eyes brimming with tears at the sensation. The white haired male thought you just looked so adorable like this, pleading him to have mercy on your over-worked body, legs trembling, salty tears about to spill over your pretty little lashes. He wondered how much more he would have to push you until you were full on sobbing, the thought of it sending a throb to his sex and a twisted smile across his face, already planning out how exactly he was going to break you.

“What do you mean you cant?” He feigned disappointment, hiding his shit eating grin behind a small frown, eyes raking over your body til he met yours in the mirror. “Im not asking you to do much y’know, y’r just sitting there.” The way he said it was almost a scoff, his tone alone making you whimper. This told you that he was no where near done with you, and you more than likely had a long night ahead of you. He hadnt even came yet, he had been holding back, and that was even more worrisome. “Ive been doing the work this whole time, and youre telling me y’r the one that cant keep going? How sad.” He shook his head as he laughed at you. He was so mean sometimes, so apathetic to your situation like it wasnt his fault. But nonetheless, his teasing made the tears you were trying so hard to hold back, fall softly down your face. It was so weird how he could literally make you cry but at the same time make your pussy flutter around him. Satoru had really turned you into a whore for him, and your bodies betraying actions never went unnoticed to him.

“Awww and now shes crying. Dont act like you’re so sad baby, i can feel you tighten up every time, ya’know that right?” His taunting purr only sent another wave of arousal through you, heat pulsating around him, causing him to snicker. “Yeah just like that… your poor little whored out pussy loves when im mean, doesnt she?” He cooed, returning his hand to your hip to keep you from squirming as he lightly thrusted up into you, placing a couple soft kisses on your shoulder.

“A-ah!” You couldnt help but cry out, even from such a shallow movement “ ‘s too much p-please, please! Toru!” The tears were streaming now, but it was evident Gojo didnt care, only wrapping his arms snugly around your torso to keep you in place as he softly fucked into you. God, your reactions were making him go feral, he doubted he could stop even if he wanted to at this point, watching you fall apart on his cock was just too satisfying- you were lucky he was only doing it softly. Though it felt much more intense to your over stimulated cunny. “J-just give me a second! Please! pleasepleaseplease-” You cried loudly, gripping onto his biceps like your life depended on it, legs desperately trying to shut, hips thrashing around, you honestly felt like you could pass out at any second from the over stimulation.

Gojo noticed this, and as much as he wanted to keep fucking you until you were overflowing with his seed, he didnt need you passing out- not yet at least. So he stilled his hips with a huff “Fine, fine, stop bein’ a crybaby, calm down.” and although his words were a bit sour, he made up for it as he rubbed your sides gently. He knew he was being mean, but he hoped his soft touches were enough to remind you that at the end of the day, he truly did care about you and your needs. And he would never actually hurt you (unless you wanted him too). Besides, even if he couldnt fuck you, he had plenty of other ideas.

A breath of relief left your lungs as you tried to catch your breath, chest heaving up and down as you babbled out ‘thank you’s’, head rolling back again. You knew you probably only had a couple minutes to prepare yourself for another couple rounds of ruthless fucking, so you tried your best to stable yourself quickly. Your body was so worn out though, it was proving to be quite the challenge. Gojo wasnt even moving and small whimpers and gasps were still making their way from your throat.

“Relax, relaxxx gorgeous, im waiting for ya’” He continued to lovingly stroke your sides, hands moving lower to massage your thighs. He was being so sweet now, it was making your head spin. So much so that you didnt even notice his hand leaving your thigh and the rustling noise of him looking for something in your nightstand. But honestly, you should have known better than to trust that he was truly going to wait for you to catch your breath. You know how much he loves to push your bodies limits, and how much he loves to see you sob. You were a fool for thinking anything different. So imagine your surprise when you felt the buzzing of your mini wand right against your clit, your entire body immediately jerking up, only to be slammed down against his chest with one strong arm.

“Ah ah ah, youre not going a-anywhere~” Satoru had to hold his own self together as he felt your heat get impossibly tighter around him, almost making him choke on his words from how amazing it felt.

“fuck! ah! S-satoruuuu” you nearly screamed out, eyes squeezed shut. You bit your lip hard enough to draw blood as you thrashed around. “ahh! nghh! i cant i cant i c-cant!” You were sobbing uncontrollably, shaking your head back and forth while you tried to grip on to anything you could reach for support, which happened to be Gojos arm with one hand and reaching up to the back of his scalp with the other, pulling him close to you. Your body convulsed as he toyed your clit with the vibrator, every time he moved it right to left your pussy would throb and squeeze, making him groan out into the crook of your neck.

“F-fuck baby, you keep squeezin’ me like that n’ im gonna cum early” he moaned into your skin, relishing in the way you felt around him. You were too cock drunk to even call him out on his use of the word ‘early’-you had been fucking for at least an hour and a half, the fuck did he mean ‘early’? But his words were instantaneously lost in the heat of the moment, both of your groans and cries filling any empty space in the room.

It only took a couple moments before you felt the pressure of an impending orgasm start to build, but it felt different than usual. If you had any will left in your body at all, you would have warned Gojo, but you couldnt even get a sentence out- the only thing spilling from your lips was babbled nonsense, cursing, the occasional slip of his name, and gasps for air. You felt like your entire existence was about to snap, and all you could do was hold on to Gojo and hope he wouldnt let you fall. Luckily for you, he had just as tight of a grip on you as you did him.

“S-Shit! ‘Pussy is s-so damn tight” He moaned out, watching the mirror as your eyes rolled into the back of your head, mouth agape as you panted loudly. “Mmm-mmm, Gonna cum for me sweetie? Yeah T-Toru can tell, let it a-lllll out for me baby” He was on the edge as well while he watched you convulse on his length, and he swore hes never felt you tighten up this much. He couldnt control hisself when his hips began to involuntarily thrust into you, muttering a small “sorry gorgeous, g-gotta-“

His words went completely unnoticed by you, too caught up in your own painful pleasure to even recognize that he was speaking. At this point you werent even breathing while he thrusted into you, just shaking violently as tears fell from your cheeks down to your breasts. The coil was about to snap, and you werent sure if you were even going to be alive after.

Satorus eyes followed your tears, watching as more dripped with each thrust onto your perfect breasts, trailing down your body til they reached where the two of your were connected and mixing with your wetness. The sight borderline made him whimper, deciding he had to have a taste as he cranes his neck down to lick up the side of your cheek, groaning loudly at the salty taste of your pretty tears. “Fuck! g-gonna fill you up princess~” He squeezed you tighter as he fucked into you even faster, pressing the vibrator harder into your cunt.

And that was the final straw, your body tensed up as he continued fucking you, releasing a squeal from your throat as you squirted and gushed around his cock. Body twitching and nails digging so deep into Satorus skin that it was sure to leave marks. It felt like it lasted forever, making a mess between you and your lover, creating a puddle on the floor to clean up later.

As soon as your orgasm finished washing over you, you were out like a light, going limp as Gojos eyes widened, looking at the mess you made. “Holy s-shit” he groaned loudly, room now only filled with his own moaning and the wet slapping noise of your ass clapping against his soaked thighs. Not much longer after that, he filled you up just as he said he was going to, spurting rope after rope of his cum deep inside you.

After giving himself a couple of seconds to come down, he turned the vibe off and say it to the side, slowly lifting you off of his softening cock. He really was planning on fucking you for longer, but you were obviously worn the fuck out, body still shaking as he held you close to him. He turned you so you were now being cradled in his arms, head lying against his chest as you slowly came back to life. You stirred slightly, gaining his attention

“There she is, you did so good for me baby” Gojo cooed, brushing some strands of hair away from your face as he kissed your forehead with a smile. “tell me when youre ready and ill get us all cleaned up, kay?”

((sooooo this ended up being way longer than i anticipated oopsies, got a little carried away. but once again please be nice this is my first ever fanfic and smut in general, but im open to constructive criticism!! ik i prob have a lot to work on but thats okay :) hopefully some of you enjoyed it!! reblogs and comments are always appreciated <3))

#satoru #gojo #gojo satoru #jjk x reader #jjk smut #gojo smut #satoru gojo smut #smut #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut #x reader #satoru smut #fanfic

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tia-222 · 7 months

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I want to enter the void within this week. I have been trying and affirming right before I go to sleep and I can feel my body falling asleep or kind of vibrate like it's going numb but I never get in. Any advice or methods I can try out that might help?

Hiii my love, also it's been awhile since I answered a void/ Loa ask. I missed yall tho. Yess, I do have a method that you might wanna try and I think everyone should too. I'll share the method below with the links and stuff ♡

✩ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐊𝐑𝐀 𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐃 ✩

( This is a void state method and can also be used as a shifting method, but only use it for shifting post-void state as the whole point of this IS to get you into void state >:) if you use this for shifting it will be an awake method, but you can turn it into an asleep method if you prefer after you enter void ) Credits to Eros !!

This method has worked for me everytime I've tried it and usually takes about 5 minutes to enter the void. i have had minishifts while using this btw and my most powerful and intense minishift was actually when i first made this method.

For this method you need to be relaxed, i usually do this when tired but it works best when you're not drowsy, i dont recommended being tired to the point you’re about to fall asleep but moreso in a state where you think youll be up for about an hour more before you go to bed :smile: i HIGHLY recommend it is night time.

✧ Get in a quiet and DARK environment and turn on some theta waves, i HIGHLY recommended theta and/ or epsilon waves or binural beats. Make sure it is dark and nothing is bothering you. I'm ngl to you guys the ones i find most helpful are these here, ive literally had the most shifts with these than with any other sub/waves I've ever used, and I've also had the most powerful experiences with them.

✧ Lay in starfish, ik ik but this is very important for this method on its own, you won't have to fall asleep for this at all so dw about that. i recommend lying on your side for like 20 minutes beforehand so you’re uncomfortable on your side and lying on your back feels nice and welcoming. you dont have to be directly in starfish but make sure you're on your back and your limbs aren't touching.

✧ Relax your whole body, go from your head to your toes, release your forehead muscles, unsquint your eyes make sure they're relaxed, release tension in your shoulders, then your left arm then you're right and make your way down your whole body. Relax it fully and make sure there is no tension in your body.

✧ Now imagine your seven main chakras, see them in your minds eye and focus on seeing balls of white energy where they are. then start feeling the energy within your body. start from the root and count upwards to your crown chakra 6 times, feel the energy there and see the light get brighter and stronger. feel your eyes move beneath your eyelids as you go upwards (do not force this movement or try to move your eyes forcefully, it should happen naturally as you imagine focusing on different spots of your body). take your time with this and please dont rush it, you are supposed to FEEL. Here is a picture if you dont know the main chakra points.

✧ Now for the seventh time imagine the energy orbs connecting to one another, as you move up your body imagine the white light connecting from your root to your crown and creating a straight line of energy connecting your head to your toes, the second it all connects hold the image and focus on your third eye and the energy it holds, then release. the second you do this you should feel a sensation in your body and possibly see lights, you are in void state.

✧ From here affirm things such as “i am more than my physical body, i am not attached to a physical body, i am pure consciousness, i am in the void state” if you feel it necessary.

#void state #ask answered #law of assumption #void state tips #anon ask #the void state #manifestion #void thoughts #neville goddard #void state success story #void concept #loas tumblr #loassblog #chakras #spirituality #Shifting #void state methods

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undercoverpena · 6 months

Text

viii. leave me on red

frankie morales x f!reader | chapter eight of i like the way you

best friend! friends with benefits! frankie morales summary: what starts off as an offhand remark, quickly becomes a regular, scheduled 'stress relief'. the only problem is, both of you are in denial that you feel anything outside of friendship for the other.

warnings: friends with benefits. fwb! rules. flirting. idiots who are so in love it’s stupid. feelings. smut - phone/text/video sex. angst. dont hate the jo.

word count: 3.6k

an: the hugest thanks to @thetriumphantpanda for not getting mad at me for doing this to them.

You decided it in the minutes after he left, you were going to tell him.

Back pressed to the door, head resting, eyes closed. Tears stinging in the edges, burning. Your breath all strained and difficult—that is, until it decided what it wished to be, anyway.

Then, it shifted, transformed. It morphing into a sob that rumbles and cracks, shaking its way through you until your knees plead to crumble to the floor.

Because you had wanted to chase after him. Even ring him. Beg him to come back.

It wasn’t until you climbed back into bed, letting the scent of him wash over you, did you commit to the idea.

That’s when you begin rehearsing it, letting it move from rolling around your skull to dripping from your tongue. You did so as you made food, as you did chores. Perfecting it, choosing words so cautiously and carefully, swapping them out, practising it until it becomes a thing typed into a piece of your soul.

I’m in love with you Frankie. I have been for a while.

You don’t expect it to rival the greatest poets, and won’t find a place amongst the greatest scripts to ever be. It won’t be a speech that’ll be copied and used in film. But it’ll matter.

It will be meaningful.

It’ll have weight and carry truth—and you suppose, when all is said and done—that’s what will matter. It’ll be out there, free, existing—swirling between the two of you instead of caged inside of your chest.

Once you’ve spoken it, it should calm the storm inside of you; should quiet the choppy waves that collide within you, each one attempting to do more than knock you off your feet, but grasp you by the ankles and drag you under.

Confessing it, should do a lot of things. But that doesn’t bring you any comfort right now. If anything, it makes you feel sick, feeling only thorny anguish which keeps you up at night.

Never before had you been thankful for booking vacation time.

A chance to be, to sit around your home and pretend you don’t want to find a way to get to him, tell him it all now, let it unspool, even with no hope of it being the same as it ever was.

Because you could lose him. Ruin it all. Taint the one thing you cherish above all else.

It’s why you turn it over. Letting it worm its way from a box of doubts to a fully-fledged car crash you replay over and over as you lay in bed, fingers twitching, chest tightening, jaw clenching.

It’s only on the third day since you had made the decision, that you decide to share your plan with another soul.

Doing so over the phone—only one name came to mind. As soon as she answered and you spilt, you were greeted with only a joyous tone, it all full of pride. Your friend who is all knowledgable and wise, being nothing short of a cheerleader. Saw it coming, she tells you, been waiting for you to wake up and smell the coffee. You bite your inner cheek, doing so until copper swirls around spit, because you’ve known too (something you want to tell her). You’d been carrying it around for longer than realisation had been bestowed on her.

It’s easier not to say it. Swallowing it, letting it die in a pit of stomach acid, where other things you never say go to erode.

“Any advice?” you’d asked.

“Just be honest.”

On day four, you had gnawed the skin from your lip. It's sore, practically pulsing. It has its own heartbeat from how raw it feels.

Your nerves beginning to get the better of you, swarming and piercing, pecking away at your earlier confidence—stinging it with doubts, ones which spread, all poisonous, swelling out until it’s all you can feel.

His texts help.

One day I’ll get you back up in a heli. Only if I can sit between your legs like last time. Can sit anywhere you want, baby.

You’re not sure how it’s possible that miles away he can make your day better and your pussy clench around nothing all at once. Your body missing him—just as much as your head, heart and soul. Thighs pressing together, all your earlier thoughts popping like bubbles as you read his words over, and over, and over. A whimper grows in the back of your throat, hammering on the back of your teeth to be released.

Flicking your eyes up, you catch your appearance in the mirror.

The way your skin is just lightly sheened with the droplets from your shower—having been in a rush to reply than dry yourself. So much so, the air tinged with the scent of your shampoo and body wash. It’s thick, and heavy, your skin warming under the effect of his words making it more prominent, evident.

Smirking, you slide your hand until it undoes the robe of your dressing gown—letting it gape, the cool air brushing over once warm skin, until it pebbles, the peaks of your nipples hardening as you take a breath, and snap. There, immortalised, you stand—positioning your phone, ensuring the camera cuts off your eyes, beginning at the base of your nose, capturing the white of your teeth against your bottom lip, the white robe hanging, parted, framing the bare skin under it.

And you don’t think, you just send.

No caption, no message.

Just the sound of the whoosh as your heart hammers, beats, and thumps in the milliseconds it takes before you see the speech bubble of his reply.

Fuck, baby. Wish you were here.

Bending down to kneeling, you shimmy the fabric from your shoulders—pooling it in the creases of your elbows. Positioning yourself so your hand can be seen perfectly between your thighs, keeping yourself hidden, just a fraction. You ensure your breasts are on show, arm shifting to push them closer together, before you smirk—no, you think. Shifting your expression to a smile, a little one, which grows bigger and larger just as you click the shoot button.

It begins, a slow-motion capture of your disrobe, of you seating yourself down on the floor in front of your mirror, taking instruction through his texts—positioning yourself like a doll. The last being on your rear, soles flat to your carpet, thighs spread, head back as your neck elongates.

You’ve never felt more beautiful, even exposed. Eyes don’t linger on the things you usually pick apart first thing in the morning, before you dress for another day, and they don’t linger on the parts you catch in the corner of your eyes before you shower. You just see radiance, shadow-kissed skin that is being bowed to through a screen.

Fuck you’re gorgeous. Can see how wet you are. You need me, baby? Always, Frankie.

Your finger sliding along your inner thigh, tips brushing over before parting your folds. It won’t be enough, he’s ruined you—made it impossible not to wish for him, crave those thick, long fingers that both keep things hovering in the air and you hovering over space, time and existence.

“Frankie,” you moan, to no one but you.

Curling, sinking deeper until—

Can I call you?

You don’t reply, you just call. The distinct sound of a request to video echoes around the room as you slow your ministrations, a low whimper escaping as he connects, as his face fills the screen that's cast to the side, his own view of your ceiling.

He says your name, quiet, more questioning. Your trembling hand moves, picking it up as the other remains buried deep inside you, lifting your phone, giving him a view, a taste, a sight.

“Tell me what to do,” you whine.

Watching him as he drinks as much of you in as he can, commits you to memory, skates his eyes over every pixel, not wanting to miss a single one, before he clears his throat, before he carries you in his phone to his bed.

Licking your lips, you release a breathy sigh—one that begins in the depths of your stomach, rising up and fluttering out. Almost carrying a moan as you find that spot inside of you, the one which makes you boneless, thighs threatening to tremble.

“You want me to keep my fingers—“

“Faster,” Frankie stammers, “Want you to move those perfect fingers a little faster for me. Think you can do that?”

Nodding, you roll your lips, heat washing out over you, gripping the phone tightly.

“Fuck, baby. Y’know how good you look right now?”

You heave out his name. It building, fanning out over nerves that tingle at the edges of you—making your fingers curl, heel of your palm catching the swollen bundle of nerves that makes the sound of what you’re doing that much louder, filthier, more obscene.

And you fucking love it.

Love all of this.

Love him—

“Wish I could bury my face between your legs—“

“—oh, shit—“

“—y’like the sound of that, querida?”

Your eyes flick to the screen, staring at him—a pang in your chest flooding outwards, it mixing with how much you wish he was here, desperate for it, half-wanting to beg him to get his ass over here and make a mess of you in front of your mirror.

“Touch yourself,” you say instead.

Swallowing back the rest, letting your head fall back, obscuring him from view as you slow your movements, teasing, edging yourself as your core twists, and electricity thunders in your veins.

“Want—fuck—wanna come with you.”

“Alright baby,” he says—as if it’s the most normal thing, as though anything the two of you are doing is normal. “Let’s do this together.”

You hope it’s not the only time he’ll say that to you.

Days drag when you clock watch. Hours take even longer.

It’s a thing you know, but you can’t help but do so all the same. Each time you check, you hope it’s closer to the time. The one marked in your calendar, the one which has been making you both nervous and elated all week.

It had only been when you stopped tidying, stopped moving things from one counter to the other, did you spot it—eyes land on it and never leave.

You're not even sure when he left it behind, but your eyes linger on the corduroy jacket near your door. It’s moss-green, hanging, growing in the corner of your eye and borrowing more of your attention than it should. You’re sure it grows vines, ones which tap on your shoulder when you’re able to forget it’s there, only to make you look over, and spot it all over again.

The worst thing about it, it looks like it's supposed to be there. As though the hook you had expertly hung, (correction: hammered a nail in and hoped for the best) was always meant to hang his things, be dedicated to it.

In truth, he acts like he’s supposed to be here.

Fitting, even if you’d never made a place for him outside of being his friend. Now, you see the outline of him, perfect cut out, a drawer which could host the bolts and bits from his pockets, the shelf which he could place his eccentric collection of DVDs from the sleepless nights during storms.

You suppose it’s why it continues to catch your eyes, your gaze lingering on it—knowing, without brushing your fingers against it or burying your nose into it, that it smells like it. That, in its own way, is spreading out that calming effect he has.

One you need now more than ever.

Hand wrapping around the handle of the knife, chopping, preparing. Eyes studying the recipe that is ingrained in you, one you could do with a timer and your eyes closed, but you need to stare at it, to read the handwritten notes and pretend for a second it’s not something you used to make for him all the time.

Before the rule, the one he made you agree to because you’d asked something from him.

Now, you just snort. Adding the ingredients to the pot, turning the heat down, as a soft simmer begins before you wipe your hands down on your towel. Because in time, you’d broken all of them, both for one another and for yourselves.

And that had to mean something. Had to be more than a coincidence or something that just was. It had to be underpinned by unsaid words and swirling emotions neither of you feel equipped to handle, yet feel more prominently than you know what to do with.

You make more of an effort in your clothes. Not for him, for you. A thrill sparks through you when you catch sight of yourself when you pass a mirror, catch yourself in the reflection of a window, your television. Because you look like someone who could confess your feelings, let your adoration be known. You feel like someone who will do it, can do it—a confidence which has been coming and going since you’d decided.

It’s only when you lay it all out (the glasses, the plates and the cutlery), does a stitch begin to appear in your carefully thought-out plan. One that digs, the needle-sharp, pointed, aiming to prick and make you bleed, smear across perfection and make it ruin. A thing you put off, able to argue with it, point out its stupidity.

Tonight could be the last time you see him.

Maybe, this thing the two of you had was all he had wanted—all he’d needed. Not an overbearing amount of emotions he can’t handle or begin to understand.

A thought you try to squash, shove down deep inside.

That is, until the bigger hand pushes the smaller one on, and it begins to create a hole inside your chest. It forming based on that earlier thought. That dread, that worry and concern which has been thickening in the back of your head for weeks now. Now, it's grown out of the walls you kept it behind. It widens with each passing minute until it’s close to an hour and it’s practically a sinkhole. It taking everything it can with it—happiness, courage, laughs and the smiles. Vanishing them, wiping them clean like they never existed, as every bit of wanted you had felt, was painfully plucked from you, tweezed until you were back to that horrid place you were before all of this began.

Except now, you felt too much. Unsure if you’re able to put a cork in it, trap it under just want him to be happy and content at being friends.

A sob escapes, just a little one.

But, it’s enough to widen the door. Allowing more of them to bubble up and appear, climbing forcibly up your chest as though they’ve been building a ladder and plotting their escape for the last few minutes.

Each rolling out, freeing, bursting into the air. Your body racked with them, trembling, shaking.

Your hand finds refuge on the counter, stabilising you, keeping you from falling into the hole of your own making. And your thumb brushes porcelain, the neatly displayed food you’d spent hours on, a declaration all on its own.

A—see, I broke the rules too, Morales—except, he hasn’t come. Hasn’t arrived.

Maybe he’d known. Maybe he’d decided that it was all too much, standing you up easier—you supposed it was much harder to face the person you’d been best friends with and break her heart to her face.

But, your Frankie would never do that. Except he isn’t yours, not really.

Even less so as time ticks far past running late into the zone of stood up.

And you feel dumb, stupid. A gnawing sensation growing in the place your love had once been, it twisting, tainting, painting everything it can in ruin and staining it in the disappointment you never thought he’d make you feel.

“Fuck,” you choke out, hand clasping your face.

Fresh tears, acidic and thick, hammer down onto your cheeks like a downpour. Layering on top of one another, blurring your vision, making your chest feel both heavier and lighter all at once.

Grabbing your phone, you don’t even think—unlocking it, finding the contact and clicking Message.

Are you free for a drink?

You should consider it, go to bed, wake up tomorrow and bury your feelings in something healthier like yoga or a walk—but you send it. Discarding your phone across the counter, it clattering, catching on the plate as you bury your face in your hands.

Tears, hot and thick—running down your wrists—not doing enough to numb you as you let them fall. Disbelief doubles as hope is swallowed whole, your throat filling with sobs you feel forced to let spill—etching their way into the silence, fracturing it, cracking what should be laughter, but is instead loneliness.

It’s why you’re thankful they reply with a yes, giving it no more thought as you blow out the candle in the centre of the table, ending the night before it even began.

Frankie wakes to darkness.

It’s a comfort, the way it blankets him, allows the little shadows to rest easy against the ceiling from his open curtains—it is all soothing, relaxing. It even almost allowed him to curl back into the comfort of his sofa. His blanket—the one you bought him—cast over the lower part of his legs.

Then he remembers.

Eyes widening, blinking furiously as he throws his legs from the sofa, hand grabbing—making all sorts of noise on his coffee table—until his phone screen illuminates and he sees the time.

Late it spells.

It all a blaze, just in the form of numbers.

Fucking late it bellows.

Disorientation wraps around him as he shoves himself up to stand, fingers tugging at his curls until he imagines they’re more frizz than defined. Not even thinking—just grabbing. Phone, keys. Shoes barely on his feet as he yanks open his own door.

Calling you.

It rings. And it rings. Each unanswered drone of it doing something to the fragility of his heart. Making it quake, crackle at the edges.

All week, he’d done nothing but think of you. Think of holding you, burying himself close against you, not even asking you to shed layers, but rather just lying with him. Take in the weight of you that he finds all but a comfort.

I love you, he had planned to whisper. Mark it against your neck, just under your ear. Write it against your lips if you let him. Burn it anywhere else until you’re nothing but tattooed in praise and adoration.

“Pick up, baby,” he mumbles.

Ringing you again in the car.

The drive over tense, silent—the occasional dial tone echoing around the bed of his truck. His knuckles whiten at each red light, shoulders practically under his ears when he pulls onto your street. Something knotting, all horrible, riddled with vines and sharpness that cut into him with each breath he takes.

He’s not sure if he should be worried or thankful your car is in the drive—because the house is plunged into darkness. His boots clatter against your wooden steps, hammering on the short porch as he cracks his knuckles against the door.

Its echo, comes back to him—able to travel around in the silence and come back with an answer.

You’re not here.

But he knocks again, and again. Tears prick at the corner of his eyes, something clenched around his stomach, tightening and tightening as your name falls, all pleading, an edge to it that he hadn’t known was possible. But then, he hadn’t known he could begin splitting down the middle, the seams coming undone, his own might and willing not able to keep him together as the realisation he’d fucked up the one good thing he had.

The one good thing he didn’t even really have, too cowardly to tell you—too fearful that you’d stare at him blankly and tell him you don’t feel the same.

Because he’s been drowning in it, in this, in you, for so long, he knows how to just about keep his head from going under. He had been sure he could do it for longer, could stem his feelings, push them down. Until, you slept against him, fitting perfectly.

Until he woke with his arm draped over your waist, your leg tangled in his, staring at him with wonder and awe as you traced your name on his back.

He should have told you then it was the best thing he’s ever woken up to. A sight he had only dreamt of, but never imagined could even be true.

Pushing your key into the door, he’s greeted by darkness. It hovering its hand to him, welcoming him, even if the cold chill of the place was more than unsettling. He wanders, feet almost dragging, half hoping to find you sat in the dark, because at least then he could begin to make it up to you.

You’re not.

Moving through to your kitchen, all set to pass through to your bedroom, when something makes his eyes pull to your table, and he sees it.

Eyes landing on the set-up, from the plates to the glasses, to the orange dish in the centre—and his heart drops to his feet. It landed with a squelch, a thud which vibrates through him to the tips of him.

You made him food.

You broke a rule. You broke the rule.

His eyes beginning to well up, stinging, until one falls.

“Fuck,” he whispers.

Letting his hand run down his face, staring at his favourite meal—unable to unsee how congealed it was, how long it’s been sat there, existing, waiting.

“Fuck.”

an: forgive me 😘

CHAPTER NINE ->

#frankie morales x reader #francisco morales x reader #francisco morales smut #Frankie morales x reader smut #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales x you #jo: iltwy #triple frontier x reader #francisco morales fanfiction #triple frontier fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #francisco catfish morales x reader #catfish morales x reader #frankie morales smut #triple frontier smut #frankie morales x f!reader smut #pedrostories

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modanisgf · 1 month

Text

APPLE CIDER , HUH YUNJIN

☆ SUMMARY— you met yunjin at a beabadobee concert and never went back, being attached at the hip. though as you start to develop feelings for her, you realize she’s been hiding something from you. something that you couldn’t live with.

☆ PAIRING(S)— non!idol huh yunjin x fem!reader

☆ WARNING(S)— some angst, profanity

☆ GENRES— right person wrong time, wlw, miscommunication, forbidden love, yunjin is a bit toxic i am now realizing! (erm..)

☆ A/N— for my number one pookie @jayjj7 🙏 thank u for being my friend 🫶🫶🫶 you are so funny and thank u for making me laugh sm also i promise it gets good at the end guys.. i also actually dk a lot about cupid so pls dont comment on how accurate that part is

☆ WC— 1.5k

MASTERLIST

if you were being entirely honest with yourself, you’ve loved huh yunjin since the day you met her. the way she helped you when you were at your lowest, being the only person to even look at you.

yunjin was perfect in all ways but one, and you’re starting to catch on. she had been rather distant lately, giving you short replies and even going as far to leave you on read.

you weren’t sure what sparked this, it happened randomly one day and ever since you’ve felt different. the days seemed longer and more boring without yunjin to light them up, but you still made it through just barely.

one night though, you woke up to a loud ringing. cursing at yourself for forgetting to put your phone on silent, you picked up your phone and answered not checking the contact before.

“hello?” you say, yawning.

“y/n?” yunjin says her voice woke you right up, the shock making you sit up.

“yunjin?” you say, confused.

“why are you calling me this late?”

“i need to tell you something, can you meet me at our spot soon? it can’t wait i’m sorry.”

“i’ll be there.” is all you say before hanging up, quickly making an effort to get ready.

you weren’t sure why you agreed, considering yunjin hadn’t even taken the time out of her day to speak to you until now. but you’re soon reminded of your love for the girl, the thought making you sigh.

finally, you finish getting ready, leaving your house and making your way down your street heading for the lake you and yunjin would always visit.

the two of you could spent hours there just talking, the memories flooding in as you thought about the place.

pushing them back, you stopped at the front of the lake once you saw yunjin. you could recognize her face from a mile away, her bright red hair always making you laugh remembering the night she dyed it.

“y/n does it look bad?” she asks, looking horrified at you over the phone.

“no yunjin it looks good.” you say, barely containing your laughter.

“why are you laughing then?!”

“you’re so cute.”

yeah, you hated how good your memory was.

yunjin must’ve heard your footsteps, the girl turning around to meet your eyes waving to you timidly.

you walked over to her, taking a seat next to her. the tension was evident between you two, considering this was the first time you were around each other in weeks.

"where have you been?” you ask quietly.

“dealing with some things but—“ she replies.

“why didn’t you tell me?” you say, the anger you felt previously coming back.

“there’s more to it y/n.” yunjin sighs.

“yunjin i’ve told you everything, i’m sure that i won’t be mad if you just communicate with me.” you say, your hand reaching out for hers as she interlocks them.

“are you sure?” yunjin says quietly, making you more nervous.

“i’m sure.”

“y/n i love you, i’ve loved you since forever now and i want to be yours.” yunjin says, holding your hand tightly now.

your eyes light up, “why didn’t you just tell me? i’m in love with you too, i thought it was obvious.”

“that’s not exactly the issue though i just—“ yunjin pauses, thinking about her word choice carefully.

“we can’t be together.” she says finally, making you drop her hand.

“huh?”

“we can’t be together y/n, and it’s not right for me to keep this from you anymore.”

“what the hell are you talking about?”

yunjin flinched at your tone, moving away from you a bit in order to give you space. she bit her tongue, thinking of ways to explain this situation.

the truth is yunjin was here to help y/n find love, not have her fall in love with her and yunjin reciprocate the feeling. yunjin was never truly meant to become this close to y/n, and for weeks now her ‘boss’ had been sending her angry messages.

she had been gone too long from her post, other people needing her help were waiting for cupid to come into their lives and assist them. but the tale was slowly disappearing, as yunjin was gone.

yunjin was set to go home the next morning, so she had to explain this quickly. she didn’t know why she didn’t just spend her last days with y/n, and she knew how much regret she would be feeling as she left. she chose to ignore that for now, refocusing on you.

the silence was very long on your end, but it broke as you saw yunjin look at you again. her eyes boring into yours, yunjin not noticing how furious you looked.

“we were never meant to fall in love, i was supposed to help you find love.” yunjin says, leaving you confused.

“what do you mean? yunjin you sound so stupid right now—“ you say, thinking she was messing with you.

“i’m serious y/n,” she deadpans, “we aren’t allowed to date.” she says firmly.

“who isn’t allowing you?” you ask.

yunjin didn’t think this through at first, realizing the concept of cupid was just a myth in your eyes only making it harder for you to take her seriously.

“my dad,” yunjin lies not wanting to drag this out, “he isn’t fond of me being in a relationship right now.”

you look at her with sympathy, apologizing soon after.

“i’m sorry, i shouldn’t have been so rude—“ you rant on, yunjin cutting you off.

“it’s fine y/n, but there’s another thing. i leave tomorrow morning.” yunjin says.

“to where?” you ask, wondering so many different things.

why the hell was yunjin dropping all of this on you now? you could’ve spent her last week together, but instead she decided to ghost you. in short, you were frustrated with her immensely. you didn’t like how she had you wrapped around her finger, and you should’ve never accepted her invite to the lake.

“i’m just moving, my parents wanna move up north.” yunjin says, looking down.

it was obvious she was lying, but you chose to ignore it. at least she was saying something to you now, instead of leaving you on read for days on end not even bothering to respond ever.

“mhm.” was all you could say, not really sure what else to.

“yunjin, are you gonna tell me why you’re really leaving?” you ask, noticing how fast she tenses up.

she definitely thought she had you, the thought making you roll your eyes.

“i can’t, you wouldn’t understand-“

“just tell me, it doesn’t matter if i do or not i want to know the truth.” you say firmly.

yunjin sighs taking a long pause, “y/n, we can’t date because i’m not supposed to be yours.”

“we weren’t even supposed to meet, but i felt differently about you when i first saw you.” yunjin says.

“when i was crying at concert..?” you ask, trying to lighten the mood a bit. you smile when you see yunjin laugh a bit.

“yeah..” yunjin says, reminiscing.

“i’ll never forget that night.”

“i promise you if it was up to me i would take every chance i could to be yours, i’d love you until the end of time.” yunjin starts, “but unfortunately it couldn’t be that way, and i have to leave soon to help others.”

“i’m cupid.” she finishes.

“cupid?”

“yes, i was meant to pair you up with someone at that concert.” yunjin says, quietly.

“yunjin, and you never thought to tell me this at least a week before you have to go back?” you ask.

yunjin takes a deep breath before replying, the tension in her muscles leaving her feeling uneasy.

“i just didn’t think you would love me back, i thought i could just leave and forget about my feelings but i didn’t realize until recently that you felt the same.” yunjin says.

“yunjin, you make it so hard to not love you.” you say, holding her face in your hands now.

“i’m so sorry y/n. i’m so sorry that we never get to be with each other.” yunjin says, looking straight into your eyes.

“it’s not your fault jin, i forgive you.”

“can i hold you before you go?”

“please.”

the two of you spent a while at that lake in silence, as you fell asleep with yunjin in your arms. secretly you wished that she would be there when you woke up, knowing well she wouldn’t.

you felt empty when you woke up, yunjin’s presence not being there. you stared out at the rising sun, before you notice a little note in front of you.

‘i’ll always love you.’ it read, with no signature. but you knew who wrote it, not even needing to think twice.

you’ll always think about huh yunjin, no matter how much time passes. she just meant that much to you, a girl you met a concert during your worst. you’ll miss her for decades, moving on never working.

wishing you weren’t stuck on someone you couldn’t have, someone you wouldn’t even be able to see ever again.

you missed her so bad, and it hurt so bad knowing you were never going be with her.

#le sserafim #huh yunjin #lesserafim yunjin #lesserafim x reader #huh yunjin x reader #yunjin x reader #wlw #kpop gg #kpop scenarios #kpop writing #kpop x reader #kpop #yunjin huh

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urwifebabes · 2 months

Note

hii!!! omg im so scared to reauest from someone so good at writing as you!!! please dont feel the need to respond!!

can you do a female!cat!reader thats in heat and catnap helps her??? that would be so hot!!!

“Heat.”

Relationship(s): catnap x cat!reader

Warning(s): smut, heat, degradation

You had been acting weird all week. Staying away from the kids, neglecting your duties , not talking for the most part. but you wouldn’t let catnap anywhere near you which pissed him off quite frankly. he was your partner. so what the fuck was so bad, you didn’t want him around you?

catnap had ignored this for the last couple days. just hanging around the children and going to his home, which he had been barely doing ever since you two had got together. one night, he couldn’t take it any longer. he got out of bed and headed to your home. almost immediately he was hit with a strong smell of your scent. not your natural one. the one where you were in heat. so that’s why you’ve been acting like that. why the fuck didn’t you just open your fucking mouth and tell him?

he stormed inside, a wave of pheromones hitting him in the face. he growled lowly as his animalistic instincts were getting harder and harder to suppress. first, he was angry that you didn’t come to him for help. what? did you not wanna have sex with him? did you think he couldn’t help it? or were you wanting to be a slut and wait for someone to find you this vulnerable?

He watched from the doorway. it was dark but he could see and you were too lost in your own pleasure to see him. he watched as you played with what was his. he watched as you fucked yourself with one of his themed dildos. he watched as your cunt squeezed the toy, oh so tightly. and how your hips rutted against the toy, trying to find some relief. he watched as you came, tears streamed down your face as it still wasn’t enough and you began your pace again.

“next time, open your mouth and tell me. or are you too dumb for even that?”

your heart stopped and you looked at the door. Catnap stood there, a grin on his face like the Cheshire Cat. “W—what are you doing here?” You asked, taking the toy and putting it behind your back. “oh, don’t mind me, continue.” you shook your head and looked up at him. You whimpered, pathetically as you sat up. “Please help me, master..”“see? was that so hard, Midnight?”

Catnap had put you in DoggyStyle, he knew you hated it since you couldn’t see his face. you whined as he placed his tip on your hole, pushing in slowly. agonizingly slow. you gritted your teeth as you yelled “god, master, please!” just then Catnap began to thrust his hips against you. his balls hitting the back of your thighs, making a harsh flapping sound as he fucked into you like a beast. “fuck, tell me how much of a good whore you are for me. you can do atleast that, can’t you, bitch?” “such a w—whore for you! make my cunt feel so good~!” “Damn right, I do.”

he pulled your hair and slammed against you harder as you came against his cock. he chuckled and kissed against your ear, biting and nipping. he let out a mix of a moan and whimper as his cum spilt into you, thickly. both your pheromones mixing. that scent was gonna be hard for higher ups to wash out. but you wouldn’t think of that right now<3.

A/N: request done! I know it’s abit short, I just didn’t really have any more idea or detail to say. hope you enjoyed! again, I’m not that good at details but I hope this was still up to standard.

TAGS: @2faced-fairy

#smiling critters x reader #reader insert #reader x character #reader x crush #smut #catnap #dogday x reader x catnap #dogday x reader #catnap x reader #dogday #catnap poppy playtime #poppy playtime x reader #poppy playime

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percyslcver · 5 months

Text

✦ ࣪ ˖ 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐨

𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐨 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐳 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐨𝐬

𝐨𝐫

𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐚 𝐛𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠

arabella perez stood beside her boyfriend and his two brothers as larray introduced the video. he informed the viewers that he would be helping the triplets and arabella cook fried chicken.

"now, arabella, i know you already have seasoning to you - you sexy latina." larray joked, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "but, for the sake of this video... embrace the uncultured-ness that is your boyfriend."

matt awkwardly held his thumbs up and grinned at the camera, before snatching his girlfriend back from larray and placing both hands on her shoulders, resting his chin on her head. the pair listened as larray continued to talk, throwing in a joke every now and then.

"hold on, should i move my cake?" arabella asked, looking at her beautiful chocolate star cake.

it was made for her sisters sixteenth birthday, and she would be giving it to her the next week. it was perfectly designed, with chocolate frosting and gold sprinkles, with the words 'happy 16th pops!' on top. the cake was currently on the furthest corner away on the counter, as no one had actually used the kitchen in a while.

"nah, it'll be fine." nick shook his head, walking over to it and checking it out. "it looks amazing though."

"thanks, i spent all night on wednesday making it for poppy." arabella smiled, looking at the camera as she spoke about the cake. "we can't show you guys cuz this vid's gonna come out before her birthday, and poppy usually watches these videos."

"shame." chris deadpanned, no amusement in his voice whatsoever.

"LET'S GET STARTED." larray shouted, clapping his hands. "right, we're having a deaf, a mute, a blind, a helen keller a whole package deal."

"hold on, someone's gonna be blind, deaf and mute?!" nick exclaimed, looking at his friend in utter shock.

"yeah... there's five of us, sis, what do you want me to do?" larray snapped back, bobbling his head as he spoke.

"i think nick should be mute and blind cuz he doesn't shut the fuck up." arabella snorted, resting her hands on the counter.

"no, i'm being mute and blind." larray butted in. "bella, boo-- betty boop-"

"huh?" matt raised his eyebrows, looking at larray with confusion. "where did that come from..."

"i dont know, she reminds me of that bitch." larray shrugged, pulling out a bandana and waving it in arabella's face. "you're blind babe."

"oh, fuck me." she groaned, "wait, like right now? or are we swapping over?"

"you can be blind in a bit, how about you be all three for now." larray offered, his evil giggle coming out as he watched arabella stare at the camera with a blank look.

"sure, whatever, fuck it." arabella shrugged, taking the bandana and tape that he was holding.

"that's my girl!" matt clapped excitedly as he took the things off of her and proceeded to tie the bandana at the back of her head, before taking the tape off the edge of the counter and pressing it over her lips and smoothing it down.

"is it good?" her voice was a hum, but her words were obvious. matt proceeded to hold a thumbs up, forgetting the fact she was blindfolded. "matt, is it good?"

so far, the video was going well. they had somehow managed to have chris and arabella successfully season chicken while matt helped them out and nick and larray danced around the kitchen, singing 'the sweet escape' by gwen stefani.

it was now turn to swap over, and everyone removed the items making them unable to perform certain actions. arabella and matt winced and wriggled in pain as they peeled the tape off of their mouths.

"babe, you got a makeup line." larray mocked, pointing at her mouth and cackling evilly. some of the tape had removed her face makeup, but, luckily, on camera it wasn't that obvious.

"you still look beautiful." matt mumbled as he stood in front of her, trying to blend the line away with the pad of his thumb.

"aww!" chris, nick and larray screamed, before chris fake gagged and burped in the space between them, making them step apart.

"you're fucking disgusting." matt groaned, punching his arm.

"can i be blind again? it was fun as shit." arabella grinned, snatching her blindfold back and attempting to tie it, when matt came to help.

"okay, bella's blind, matt's deaf, chris is blind and deaf, larri is mute and i'm mute and blind." nick announced, moving his hands dramatically as he spoke.

"but now, there's nowhere to hide-!" arabella started to sing randomly, even though she wasn't even listening to music. "since you've pushed my love aside!"

chris, who was yet to put his headphones on, found arabella and wrapped an arm around her neck from behind, dragging her back and shutting her up. larray jumped in shock, looking between the assault and the camera, whereas matt pushed chris aggressively, pointing a finger in his chest and shouting. "don't fucking do that!"

chris pushed him back before pointing at arabella and placing a finger on his lips. "tell her to shut up! she's making my senses inbalanced!"

"you're senses have been inbalanced." arabella spat back, kicking the back of his knee as revenge.

matt placed himself in front of her as he saw chris go to hit her. he turned around to face her and shouted, not realising his volume: "bels, you have to be quiet!"

"okay! i got it! stop yelling in my damn face!" arabella shouted back.

as the video continued, it was still going smoothly, until chris and matt began to fight each other again, and nick and larray had began to dance around again, mentally singing songs as both of them were mute. that left arabella all alone to complete the chicken, and she was beginning to get overwhelmed. she couldn't see, matt and chris were screaming at each other, and no one was helping her at all. she took a deep breath in and shook her hands, trying to dry them of the damp sweat that was building up, she scrunched her eyes underneath the blindfold, trying to remove the tears that were also building up.

she cleared her throat and continued to make the chicken to the best of her ability. before matt unintentionally screamed at her. "no! bella, stop! wrong thing!"

"it's not my fucking fault, no ones helping me!" she shouted, her voice cracking and wavering.

"what?!" matt shouted back, having not heard her.

larray, who was the only one (besides nick) who could hear her distress, waved his hand in front of his neck, trying to tell matt to stop yelling, but matt thought that meant carry on.

"bella stop!"

"stop what?!" she began tearing up, her bottom lip quivering.

larray quickly hit him and pointed at him, telling him to stop. arabella wiped her hands on her jeans as she felt herself getting really hot.

then, chris accidentally walked into matt from behind, making him shove him aggressively into the counter. a loud clatter and the sound of glass breaking came as everyone stopped their movements.

"what? what broke?" arabella asked, looking around for someone to help her.

sudden arms wrapped around her shoulders, one pressing into the back of her head. she reached her hand up to try and feel who it was. "who is it?" her hands came into contact with the spikey facial hair she loved. "oh, it's matt. what happened?"

matts fingers moved to untie the her bandana and she squinted as they adjusted to the sudden light. everyone stood in silence, jaws slack and in shock horror. nick had a hand over his mouth as chris' were interlocked around the back of his neck.

"what?" arabella muttered, walking around the back of the counter and seeing what everyone was so shocked about.

poppy's 16th birthday cake was splattered all over the floor, face down, and the plate was smashed. the kitchen as a whole was a complete mess, but this was the cherry on top to the growing panic attack arabella could feel approaching.

however, she shrugged it off with a sniffle and returned to her work station, cracking an egg and putting it in a foil tin.

"bella, i'm so sorry." chris muttered, too scared to look at her.

she shrugged, and wiped at her nose with the back of her hand, ignoring the stares of everyone. matts hands snaked around her waist and he rested his chin on her shoulder, pressing light kisses to her neck.

"im sorry, baby. i know how hard you worked." he mumbled. "im so sorry."

"no, it's fine, i'll just remake it, it's whatever." arabella passed over the way her voice cracked multiple times and continued making the chicken.

"bella i stopped the video." larray told her, letting her know she could stop.

she nodded her head and walked over to the sink, washing her hands before disappearing into matts bedroom. she hid in his covers, pulling them up to her chin and silently crying, trying to regulate her breathing while trying to be quiet. it was a mission and a half.

but matt walked in a few minutes later, quickly shut the door behind him and sat next to her in bed, pulling her into his lap. "it's okay. it's okay, shh. shh."

his hushes and coos only made her more emotional, as she soaked his shirt with her tears.

"oh bels, i'm so sorry. we'll remake it. we'll all help." matt whispered in her ear, dragging his fingers through it.

"no." she coughed/ sobbed out, sitting up and wiping her eyes. "no, it's not just that but i was doing everything myself and no one was helping me everyone was just shouting at each other."

matt placed a hand on her chest and tucked some of her hair behind her ear. "you gotta breathe, baby. follow my own breathing, look at how i do it."

"did you know, you're bandana is the same colour as your bead bracelet that madi bought you?" arabella stared at his face as he helped her, looking at his encouraging eyes and warm smile. "there you go, you're doing so good. just like that, bels."

after a while, her pants had ceased and her panic attack was over, making her feel entirely drained and tired.

"i'm so sorry, arabella. we can all remake the cake, and you can decorate it, or you can do it all yourself, whatever you want." matt told her, holding her tightly. "and we're gonna redo this video another day because there's no way larri is posting this one, it was a mess."

"i feel so ridiculous." she muttered, hiding in his chest. "crying over a fucking cake."

"you're not ridiculous, bella." matt replied, kissing the top of her head lovingly.

a/n

dude this one is so long omfg im sorry about that yall but i hope you liked it. i had this idea for a few days now and decided to write it up because i love fanfics where the s/o is in a yt vid

#nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo imagine #larray #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo triplets

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harrystylesfan2686 · 3 months

Text

Cheat

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: Everything was going so great until Azriel cheats.

A/N: Heavy Angst. Hope you cry reading this just like I did writing it.😭👍

Masterlist

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Gods you are so drunk.

You raise your glass to take another sip of whatever you were drinking, all you knew is that it had alcohol in it. You had asked the bartender for the strongest drink they had and now you have no idea what time it is or which glass you are on. All you knew was that you couldn't think properly anymore.

Good. You didn't want to.

Because if you did, your thoughts would go back to Azriel again. You would again, think why he did it.

He cheated on you. Traded you with a black haired female who was way more attractive then you were. Raven, her name was. You were friends, or at least you thought you were. You finally thought that you've got yourself a real friend now but turns out all she wanted was your mate.

You honestly don't blame Az. She is so beautiful, with green eyes and legs that went on forever. You both met at a coffee shop when the waiter accidentally exchanged your drinks. Your friendship started right away. You were so excited to finally have a friend of your own that you did see the red flags waving right in front of your face.

Like the first time you introduced her and Azriel to each other, you had sat up a dinner because you wanted your mate and best friend to get along. She spent the whole night talking to Azriel instead of you but you thought that she was excited to meet the famous shadowsinger.

You scoff at your foolishness.

One night. One night was all Raven needed to into Azriels pants. One night when you were gone to a mission Rhys sent you on. Just one night when you weren't with Az, she was.

You were devastated to hear what Az did in your absence. You, so badly, wanted it to be false that you asked Az if he truly consented to it. You thought maybe it wasn't true and az, the spymaster, got somehow molested. But, gods, were you wrong.

You left your house and walked, crying until you there were no tears left to fall. You don't know how you ended up in a bar but that's where you are now, drinking yourself into the hole of betrayal and sadness.

"Gods, darling. I was looking all over for you." You sigh as you feel his body loom over you from behind. His hurtful voice effecting you even after what he did to you. Gods, the comfort he brings you is engraved in your body it seems, doesn't matter what happens, his presence will always be comforting.

"Leave me alone." You can't bring yourself to say his name. You'll cry all over again.

"Darling, let's go back home. I'll leave you alone after I know you're safe." He touches you arm and you feel as though you move through space and time before finally landing in your living room. Deffinately a result of the alcohol running in your system. Your head spins and you stumble, Azriel tries to catch you but you force yourself to stand up straight and push his hands away.

You gasp and glower at him. "Why did you bring me here?!" Anger suddenly filling your body, spilling out of the small part at the back of your head that you shut it in. You dont look around your house, you can't. You've handled enough tonight and if you even spare a glance at the house you both built together, you'll break.

"I want to you to leave me alone for a night. I asked for one night alone Az but you can't even do that?" Your sudden outburst surprises Azriel but before he can explain you speak, "I can protect myself. Ugh. You act as if you care about me, but I know you're just acting." You can't control your words and maybe don't want to. "You wouldn't have cheated on me if you did." You grumble and Azriel has the ability to look hurt.

"What do you think would have happened if I was the one who had cheated?" You glare at him. "You would hate me and have kicked me out of the house. The inner circle would despies me for hurting you and laying with another male. Some of them would literally kill me! Why? Because they love you. Love you in a way that no one loves me." You see red and tears start falling down your face when he opens his mouth, probably to oppose to what you're saying but it's true, you know it is. So you don't give him the chance to speak and continue.

"You have a family to go to when you're hurt or angry but I have no one. You have friends that will stand by you no matter what, I dont. The only one that I thought was, turned out to be a back stabbing bitch. My friends are you friends, My family was yours first. I don't have anyone to call my own! You were my everything, Azriel. Now I don't have anyone."

Your crying so much that its now getting difficult to breath. Your not even sure what you're speaking now but all you know is that your hurting Azriel with every word that leaves your mouth judging by the tears that well in his eyes and slowly fall down his face. His looks down in shame because the severe anguish in your eyes is too much for him to handle.

"I am all alone. I have no where to go, no one to go to. I don't want to face Feyre or Rhys or anyone else because I know that no matter what, they'll always be with you. I don't want to go back home because it's filled with memories of us. All the times you said you loved me, all the times you showed me just how much, all the time you promised me that you will never hurt me and that you will be with me until death parts us. You showed me those wonderful dreams just to crush them because you wanted to get your dick wet! You broke my heart and did the exact thing you swore not to do."

"Why would you do this to us? Why would you do this to me?" Your knees buckle and Azriel steps forward, hugging you to his chest and preventing you to fall. Your words incoherent now.

He sits on his knees with you as you sob into his chest and hold onto him for dear life. You don't have the energy to push him away and his touch feels oh so good, so you just let him hold you, for now.

You both sit in middle of the house you once called home and cry for the relationship that's now beyond broken.

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#acotar #acotar fandom #acotar fanfiction #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel angst #acotar angst #azriel fanfic #azriel x y/n #azriel x yn #cheating #crying my eyes out

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shadowdaddies · 3 months

Note

Omg it’s been forever!!! I have a request for Azriel!!! I was thinking, the reader is an amazing story teller and is known for being really creative and imaginative. At some point azriel asks if she’s ever thought about writing her stories down and he finds out that she doesn’t know how to write. Maybe juts some fluff with azriel and maybe cassian and rhysand teaching her how to write and like when she does something good azriel gives her kisses or something And then (sorry it’s kinda long) but maybe one day azriel asks her to tell him a story and it leads to some smut maybe… maybe where he’s kissing her neck while she’s telling the story I DONT KNOW I DONT KNOW but it’s been forever and I’m really missing requesting these! Love you 😘

Hey lovely! I've been having a little bit of writer's block lately and this was kind of therapeutic? idk but I had so much fun writing it💜💜

Inspired

Azriel x Reader

Warnings: smut below the cut, romantic sex, oral f!receiving

Nyx’s giggle rang through the room as you waved your arms dramatically, acting out the story as you told it.

“The sorceress’s eyes glowed an eerie green light as she smiled, a snap of her fingers an order for the dragon behind her. Breathing a rush of fire, the creature lunged,” you continued, dragging your mate from his seat as you urged him to act out the scene with you.

“...And then the handsome knight charged, his sword raised to strike the hideous beast.” Azriel raised his arms as though he were holding a sword. Rolling your eyes, you muttered, “no, Az. You’re the dragon.”

“Right, of course. My mistake, Handsome Knight,” he retorted, spreading his wings as he hunched slightly, his best effort at resembling a dragon. Your arms swung, mimicking the action as you told the story of slaying the mighty dragon, Azriel clutching the imaginary sword in his chest as he made a dramatic heaving noise, collapsing to the floor.

“What is going on in here?” Feyre teased, an amused smile on her lips as she leaned against the doorframe, hand on her hip. “Nyx, it’s time for bed,” she chided the pouting toddler, reaching a hand to carry him to his room.

“But momma, Auntie’s story!” Nyx protested, the deep frown on his face emphasizing the boy’s chubby cheeks.

“Yea, Feyre. What about the story?” Cassian protested, his eyes wild as he looked to you and Nesta for backup.

Nesta scoffed, rolling her eyes playfully as she leaned into Cassian’s side. “I think we can wait until tomorrow to hear the rest of the story,” she promised, silvery eyes twinkling as she gave you a knowing smile.

You turned to your nephew, giving him a kiss on the cheek goodnight as you promised to continue the story - and make sure Azriel knew his role better - tomorrow night. With another grateful smile, Feyre lifted Nyx into her arms, the boy yawning as he rested his head on his mother’s shoulder.

You turned to see Azriel still sitting on the floor, laughter bubbling up as you took his hands in yours. “You can get up now, dragon,” you purred, a gasp leaving you as he stood swiftly, scooping you into his lap as your mate settled back on the couch.

“Where do you come up with these stories? They’re too good to just be bedtime stories for Nyx. I would read it in a book,” Cassian noted, flashing you a charming grin as he sipped his drink.

With a nervous laugh, you leaned into Azriel’s side, shaking your head as blush crept over your cheeks at the compliment. Nesta leaned forward, that warrior’s determination shining through her sharp features. “Really, you should try writing. I know some of the priestesses in the library have great resources and would be happy to help you... And so would I.”

Azriel’a arm wrapped around you, giving an encouraging squeeze as his lips grazed your temple. You turned to your mate to see hazel eyes shining with admiration as he grinned at you. “What do you think?” you breathed, nervously biting your lip as you awaited an answer.

“I think that you are the most beautiful, creative, talented, and kind person I have ever met, and I know many others would pay to hear what you have to say,” he murmured, finger crooking against your jaw as his lips pressed softly against yours.

“All right,” you whispered, unable to hold back the bright smile on your features as you turned to Nesta. “I would really appreciate the help, if you wouldn’t mind.”

WIth that, you made plans to meet Nesta in the library the next day, starting a pattern of working with the priestesses and using the House’s resources as you learned the tedious process of writing a book.

~~~

Exhausted, you trudged up the endless flights of stairs to your room, oblivious to your mate seated by the fire, who watched as you tossed your books, notes, and half-worked manuscript onto the nightstand. With a dramatic sigh, you flopped onto the mattress, burying your face in the pillows as you willed your head to stop pounding.

The bed dipped next to you, the familiar scent of cedar and rain instantly calming as Azriel’s hand touched your shoulder. “Everything alright, love?” he murmured, voice deep and soothing.

You practically melted into his touch, reveling in the feel of his warmth as you rolled onto your back to face him. A scarred hand cupped your cheek, tenderness in Az’s eyes as he waited for your answer. “I’m just tired, Az,” you sighed, gesturing towards the daunting stack of papers next to you. I didn’t realize how hard it would be to plan out a story. It’s so much harder to actually write everything down, I don’t know if I can do it,” you admitted, tears springing to your eyes as you finally felt the overwhelming weight of your work.

“Hey, hey,” Azriel soothed, lifting you so that your back laid against his chest as his muscular arms wound around your waist. “You don’t need to do this if it doesn’t bring you joy, my love. I love you and your stories, no matter how you decide to express your creativity.”

Laying back against his chest, you leaned up to press a lingering kiss on Azriel’s cheek. “Thank you,” you whispered. “I do want to write. I feel so inspired, I just don’t know how to articulate it on paper, if that makes sense.”

Azriel hummed, his hands idly playing with yours as he thought. “What are you inspired by, love? What is driving your story?” You blushed, dipping your chin slightly as you curled further into your mate.

“My main character - he inspires me,” you admitted. “He is kind, thoughtful, willing to do anything for those he loves,” you paused, leaning your head against Azriel’s neck as you reached up to run a hand through his hair. “He’s devilishly handsome - with hazel eyes and dark, wavy hair. He makes everyone in his life feel special, but he is the most special person I have ever met,” you spoke, barely above a whisper as you pressed a kiss to his throat.

Waves of onyx hair brushed your cheek as Azriel’s head dipped, working slow kisses down the side of your face and neck before he settled on your shoulder, humming against the skin. “Why would you want to write about such a person?” he murmured, voice a low rumble as his hands slid down your body, fingertips skating lightly over your thighs, up to the waistband of your pants.

Breaths turning shallow, your mind reeled as you focused on the question. “Because... You make me feel a joy that I want others to see. You give me hope that I want others to have. You give me love that I want others to know is possible.”

Azriel’s hands continued teasing, feather-light touches across your stomach, dipping below the band of your pants as you bit back a moan. “Maybe, if I refresh that feeling, would you be able to ‘articulate’ it in writing?”

A knowing grin spread across your face, eyes glinting with mischief as you looked up at your mate. “I suppose that might help,” you teased, nipping at the skin of his jaw.

Azriel wasted no time, his deft fingers sliding under the waistband of your clothes, a low growl vibrating through his chest as he felt how wet you were. One finger slid, tortuously slowly, through your folds, gathering your slick as he lightly brushed your clit.

Head thrown back against his shoulder, you ground your hips up against his hand, desperate for friction. “Az, please,” you begged, already breathless and craving his touch. A soft laugh left his lips as cool wisps of shadow twined through the fabric of your pants, pulling them down to expose your lower body to the open air of the room.

A soft mewl escaped you as the soft tendrils wound their way back up your legs, spreading them open for their master as he continued his slow, intentional movements against your core. “How do you want me, love?” he whispered, his smirk evident in his tone.

“Your hands, your tongue, please. All of you, Azriel. I need all of you,” you begged, fighting against his hold as your need overwhelmed your other senses. Without another word, Azriel lifted you from his chest, laying your head against the pillows as he shifted to lay between your legs.

“Don’t think, just feel, my love,” Azriel murmured, his warm breath fanning over your clit before licking a stripe up your center. You gasped, back arching as your mate pinned your hips down, spreading your legs open for access. Lips wrapped around your clit, sucking in rhythm with the finger that curled teasingly at your entrance.

Head tossing back and forth against the sheets, you babbled incoherent pleas for more, a pleasurable gasp leaving you as he pushed his finger in, curling in tandem with his alternating sucks and kitten licks on your clit. He added another finger, the coil inside of you building as you neared the edge.

Azriel hummed his praise against your writhing body, bringing your attention to the male before you. Your mate, who knew you better than anyone, made you feel like no one ever could from the day you met. As the coil inside of you snapped, you were taken back to your first time with Azriel - the euphoria of finding the only person meant for you, and joining with him as one.

You came down from your high to see Azriel looking at you with an awed expression, his hand moving to wipe tears you hadn’t realized you’d shed. Turning your head, you pressed a kiss to his palm, guiding Azriel to lay on his back as you straddled his hips.

“I will always have inspiration, because I have known you,” you whispered, lowering yourself onto his length. The both of you sat there for a moment, basking in the tenderness of being one, when the idea struck.

“Sorry, sorry,” you mumbled, scrambling to reach for the parchment and pen on your bedside table, scribbling down your thoughts before they could be forgotten.

“What are you doing?” Azriel breathed out on a laugh, watching as you bit your lip, sheer focus and determination on your face while you wrote.

“I know the next part of my story,” you responded, a proud smile on your features as you set the paper aside. “Now where were we?”

Azriel laughed, a full, rich sound as he flipped you onto your back, lining up at your entrance as he pressed kisses all over your face. “You were meant to be a writer,” he teased, amusement clear in his gaze as he eased into you. Pure love and admiration flowed each way down the bond - the beginning of one of many long nights finding joy and inspiration in each others’ presence.

banners by saradika

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chrissturniolosbitch · 18 days

Text

NEEDY

a/n- this is very bad, and random (i also made this at 12am on a school night!)

warnings- oral, creampie, use of y/n, caught, and language

summary- y/n gets caught staring at matts hands, so he does something about it.

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"bro y/n are you listening?"

chris says suddenly snapping me out of my trance, i was to busy studying matts hand to be listening, "um yea." i lied. Ive been looking at matts hands for the past 35 minutes

wondering what great things they would do to me.

"then re say one fucking word i said!" chris snapped at me leaving me speechless, "thats what i thought" chris said in a know it all way leaning back onto the couch getting comfortable.

ding

i got a snapchat notification from, 'matt?' i thought to myself.

i opened my phone looking up at matt not understanding why he couldnt just tell me whatever he was snapping me about.

'oh shit its a photo' i thought to myself furrowing my eyebrows almost automatically clicking the image

'holy shit' i was not expecting to see a picture of his dick.

"wdf is this matthew?"

"you think i dont see you staring at me? not just me but my hands?"

"idek what youre talking about matt."

"go to my room. naked. now."

read 1:43 am

as soon as i read the last sentence he sent me i got up and started walking to his room, "where are you going y/n?" matt asked knowing exactly where the fuck i was headed.

"um." i cleared my throat, "im h-headed to your room. I dont feel to good." I already could feel my cunt dripping in arousle, "im gonna head to bed too then" matt said standing up smirking at me, "oh okay." i said turning back around practically sprinting to his room, him following behind me.

as soon as we entered his room he grabbed me by the waist, "fuck matt" i said pulling my shirt off.

"damn ma you roaming free 'round here?" he said hooking his mouth to my left boob, since i didnt have a bra on.

matt moved us over from his door frame to his bed, throwing me down moving his mouth from my left boob to my right.

"shit baby, can i taste you." he said this statement more as a demand rather than a question, "anything you want matt" i said tugging at his waistband. All he did was nod, and with a tic of approval i pulled his pants and boxers down in one swift motion

his rock hard dick slapping his stomach, that shit was bout 8-9 inches.

"fuck matt." i said as he pulled down my shorts and laced panties down painfully slow, "i want you to taste me already" i said removing my legs from the last peice of clothing covering me

"say no more" he said giggling, going down on me im one swift motion.

as soon as his tongue hit my clit, immediate pleasure spred throughout my body. Waves of enjoyment sprung through my body

"shit im already so close matt please" i said gripping his hair bucking my hips into his mouth, "cum in my mouth baby" as soon as those 5 words left his mouth the knot in my stomach became undone

slowly matt stopped and kissed me, "isnt it your turn matt?" i said cupping the side of his face staring into his peircing blue eyes, "shit. If im being honest... i came already. twice."

"matt what the fu-" i was about to finish my sentence before i heard a ding from my phone

it was chris

"you both are nasty as fuck." chris stated arguably correct.

i rolled my eyes, and showed matt. We both looked at each other and started bursting out laughing

"i know!" is all i replied with before shutting my phone off and kissing matt

"thank you matt." i said looking at him, "any time." he said kissing me one last time.

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i hate this. I HATE THIS. i hate my life 💕

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo edit #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader

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gabigabigabby · 1 year

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heyy i just read ur gavi x messi!reader and its truly amazing and was wondering if you could maybe write jude/gavi x neymar's daughter!reader? btw you dont have to write it just thought it would be a cute idea <33 hope ur having a great day/night!!

neymar's daughter | j. bellingham

jude bellingham x neymar!reader

a/n: love this idea, thanks for the request anon! my requests are open y'all so go send some rn! actually had some friends of mine pick between jude or pabs for this one and they chose jude so here we are! enjoy 🩷

synopsis: neymar flies to germany to meet jude... and you're caught up in between

content/warnings: yes dortmund still lose their bundesliga title in this, starstruck!jude, over-excited!jude, portuguese dialogue, lmk if i missed out anything (:

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"oi, meu querida," the voicemail from your dad begins to play. "acabei de pousar em dortmund. mal posso esperar pra vê-lo hoje à noite! te amo sempre." [hey, my darling. i just landed in dortmund. cannot wait to see you tonight! love you always.]

today is dortmund's last game and neymar had been injured since february. it was him who came up with the idea to fly to dortmund to finally meet this boyfriend you haven't stopped gushing about since the world cup.

you haven't told jude that neymar is coming, let alone being your plus-one for today. you didn't want to distract him from the title race. if you told him right now, you know he'd feel really pressured; you know, with your dad being the prince of football.

eventually, you stopped thinking about it, and the evening came in the blink of an eye. you were sat at the vip box with your dad. wearing jude's shirt, you hear all the fans who sat nearby the box. some were waving at neymar and he waved back, some were waving at you and you did the same.

"estou tão feliz que você está realmente aqui!" you turn to your dad. [i'm so glad that you're actually here!]

"eu também. linda cidade." neymar smiles, pulling your hand in his. [me too. beautiful city.]

"estou muito animada pra você conhecê-lo." [i'm very excited for you to meet him.]

"ah, bellingham," neymar nods slowly; something he usually does when he's unsure about something. "espero que ele tenha sido nada além de encantador pra você." [ah, bellingham. i hope he's been nothing but delightful to you.]

you giggle softly. "confia em mim, pai. nada além de incrível." [trust me, dad. nothing but amazing.]

the game began, and jude had a brilliant first half. dortmund was dominating and you're proud to say your boyfriend had been of great help. by the time the whistle had been blown to signify the conclusion of the game, whatever help that jude had rendered to the team was deemed meaningless. bayern had won the bundesliga title and there is nothing anybody can do about it.

"papai, você pode esperar aqui?" you kindly ask your dad for a little bit of time. "deixe-me pegar jude pra se refrescar." [dad, can you wait here? let me get jude to freshen up.]

"vai, vai. eu esperarei aqui." neymar nods, understanding where you are coming from as he watches you run towards the pitch. [go. go. i'll wait here.]

family and friends were finally given the leeway to invade the pitch and console the guys. you immediately make your way to jude, who had squatted before the goalpost, sobbing in his hands. your hands find themselves on jude's shoulders, to which he immediately shrugs off.

"stop touching me, fuck off!" jude yells through his tears.

"jb, it's me! it's me." you reassure him as you take his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you. jude's face softens at the sight of you, more tears starting to drip off his face.

"sorry, i thought you were gio or something." jude mumbles, but you didn't fully hear what he said because you had pulled him into your shoulders, allowing him to cry freely. you let jude's tears soak your dortmund jersey. all jude wants is your presence. your presence takes the edge off his shoulders. to jude, you take the pain away just by existing.

"nothing to apologize about, jb," you whisper in his ear. "i have a surprise for you. there's somebody who is very excited to meet you for the first time."

jude lifts his head off your shoulder. "who is it?"

you giggle. "wouldn't be a surprise if i told you, would it?"

"babe, you know i hate surprises-" jude tries to argue.

"you're gonna love this one, trust me!" you reject, holding his hand in yours. defeated, jude could only just trail after you as you move towards the vip box. you let jude climb up the stairs leading to the box first.

"papai, meet jude," you shout out within neymar's earshot. "jude, this is neymar jr." neymar lifts his head upward to meet jude's eyes.

"hello, jude. i'm-"

"neymar," jude finishes your dad's sentence. "neymar is here."

"surprise," you smile, watching a starstruck jude stare at ney. when your dad starts to feel uncomfortable being stared at for a long period of time, you finally try to swerve jude from staring at neymar any longer. "let's walk, shall we?"

"i'm sorry for your loss today, jude." neymar sends his condolences.

"i'm sorry too. i hope you don't think i'm shit." jude grits his teeth in embarrassment.

"não, absolutely not. i know how good of a player you are. you did very good at the world cup." neymar nods.

"you knew about me then?" jude's starstruck tone appears once again.

"i watched the game, my friend. muito bem." neymar chuckles. [very good.]

jude slowly turns to face you and freaks out in silence. "he watched the games!" he silently screams. you attempt to match his energy, trying to replicate the expression on his face before he resumes his conversation with neymar.

the rest of the day was history. it was in the pages of your history books and definitely the first page of jude's. neymar flies back to paris the next day, and he had convinced you and jude to follow along.

"flying to paris tomorrow in neymar jr's jet," jude thinks out loud. "what a life."

"it's just a plane, jude-"

"no, it's not just a plane, my love. it's your dad's plane. i'm gonna be sitting in neymar's jet." needless to say, jude doesn't give a shit about losing the bundesliga title anymore now.

#jude bellingham #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham x black reader #jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham x y/n #borussia dortmund #football #football x reader #football x y/n #football x you #neymar #neymar's daughter

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