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#i feel like half the time it's not on purpose but it also drives me up the wall also i feel like if people simply paid more attention it
doctorwhoisadhd · 1 month
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there's a certain quality the harmonies of like... early to mid 2000s alt rock has. which i am obsessed with... like i wanna do that. i NEED to figure out how to write harmonies that sound like that
#ari opinion hour#i sort of understand it but not necessarily well enough to do it on command#i think i sort of achieved the sound of it with my blaseball winter exchange song i did for snow but specifically only in the very last bit#like only with the 'im not alive anymore' part#(which sidenote i wish id had the second half faster + w more drive but its not like that was like a full recording which i could do)#i think i just need my music to have more teeth in general cause it scratches an itch that i think i must have developed due to some aspect#of music school. its probably my dissatisfaction with the attitudes in the classical world#<- which understand i say that in the same way that like my jazz prof does. the classical world doesnt have enough teeth nor enough#understanding of the way in which music is like. another art. and art needs to be able to have teeth and use elements normally regarded as#''undesirable'' on purpose because art is there to make you feel emotions and not just the positive ones and not just sadness or anger in#terms of the negative ones#art is there to make u feel ALL extant emotions and that includes boredom disgust fear jealousy pity cowardice apathy overwhelmedness etc#also the classical world i find often forgets what the word ''play'' means#i am of the opinion that perfection is a waste of time if i wanted perfect i'd ask a computer to do it for me. i want real#anyway. i forgot what this post was even about lol point is i need to figure out how to write harmonies that have that soaring quality that#like. you can hear it in like helena by mcr and wake me up by evanescence and stuff. and frankly most of the songs on three cheers for swee#revenge which i am listening to now for the first time. i need to learn more about this stuff maybe ill listen to the evanescence album tha#song is from next.#or something i should really be working on my essay but theres no way i wont have it done in time which is good i think i just mostly have#to worry about sources and stuff but even that should be relatively easy i think
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welcometoteyvat · 25 days
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pet peeves: drawing people yellow
#advanced sorry as a non artist who doesnt really understand all that lighting shit#but even with weird lighting:#you can make their skin tone different from the pale shown in canon without it being like lemon colored T_T_T_T_T_T#similarly it's so possible to draw darker skin tones without making them gray or all have the same undertone#also i swear if it's for the palette/color theory you can also make palettes and color well without making it... yellow#ramblings!#this has happened in both my fandoms (honestly more frequently than i like but whatever)#& it just annoys me sm lmfaoooofnjksdhgkj#partially blaming one very popular drawing tutorial abt how to draw easian (the tutorial said asian but its rlly just easian......) faces &#im sorry the faces look like lemons#it just................... annoys me#mfw get u a face that looks like 🟡#this has been in the queue for a really long time bc im . v on the fence abt posting like#i feel like half the time it's not on purpose but it also drives me up the wall also i feel like if people simply paid more attention it#wouldn't happen! well. anyways#whatever this is one of those insane rants that i just need to get out#this is what happens when i occasionally search tags it's just. (sees art) (sideeyes you) (moves on) . whatever lol#not genshin#to be clear this is abt easian coded/easian characters like if a char specifically is described as 'sallow skin' or smth#then it's whatever but it just makes me slightly go 'hmm' if nothing about the character indicates unhealthy skin coloration but u go: 🟡
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real-life-cloud · 8 months
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:(
#the sky speaks#vent time!!#tw suicidal ideation#i wish i could just hate my mother it would be so much easier#but shes trying so hard and in so much pain#but shes so TIRING to be around !!!!#she got in a wreck this evening. she was drinking and driving around to all of people who don't talk to her anymore#shes getting a dui i guess?#and this is just one thing in a looooong list of shit shes pulled#ive heard her scream and sob so much today. but now shes also saying she wants to die. over n over#full on existential crisis. she feels no purpose and is so lonely#she left this morning to go shopping tyen just never came home. my dad asked me to call her and she answered and just said#i can't. im sorry. and hung up on me. then she turned off her phone and we didnt know where she was for a half hour#and i was so fucjing worried that shed killed herswlf or somthing i couldnr even remember rhe last thing i said to her?#i hugged her for so long when we finally got home#but im just so tired of loving her#shes still down there crying but i cqnt listen tk her anymore. my head is pounding. i wanna sob. i never wanna cry again.#i kinda wanna die too but i feel like i cant tell anyone really. moms such a mess how could i possibly put these feelings onto dad or thomas#and not mom. god. shes thw reason i feel like that. evwry time. im so tired of her falling apart that id rather not be here.#if i had just sucked up being on my period and went shopping with her today this wouldn't have happened. but that shoyldnr be how it is!!!!!#im allowed ro stay home!!! i shouldnr have to babysit her!! but ive felt like i was HER mother aince i was 17#im just so tired
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art · 7 months
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Creator Spotlight: @jdebbiel
Deb JJ Lee is a non-binary Korean artist based in Brooklyn, NY. They have appeared in the New Yorker, New York Times, NPR, Google, Radiolab, and more. Their award-winning graphic memoir, IN LIMBO, about mental illness and difficult relationships with trauma, released in March 2023 from First Second.
Below is our interview with Deb!
Have you ever had an art block? If so, how did you overcome it?
That implies I am over my art block, but I’m still in it! I think about Kiki’s Delivery Service a lot and how she had to stop doing a thing, and that you can’t really force it, and you have to let it come back to you. It’s a pretty humbling moment, realizing there is more to life than just drawing. I’ve been trying to consume other content like reading or watching movies—anything that is not drawing-related—and to trust that it will come back to me. I think not being afraid to do the small pieces before committing to the big pieces is helpful. Because big pieces are what I am known for, I dig myself into a deeper hole, thinking that each piece has to be bigger than the last one. So yeah! Relaxing and doing the small things before overcommitting to a big piece is the best way to go about it for me.
Which 3 famous artists (dead or alive) would you invite to your dinner party?
I feel like these are all artists that I have second-degree connections with! Jillian Tamaki, Victo Ngai, and Tillie Walden would be my picks!
What are your file name conventions?
…What file name conventions? I mean, I don’t have specific file name conventions, but I actually have a public Google Drive archive! But I usually put “djjl_whatever-the-title-is_final,” and I would always know it’s the final and legit version.
What is a recent creative project that you are proud of?
I did an illustration for the whiskey brand Johnnie Walker. It’s so wild because I only had four days to finish it, and it usually takes me a week and a half if I rush. And honestly, it’s probably one of my best pieces from this year, which is funny. It was for the Mid-Autumn festival, so I made it as Korean as possible.
How has technology changed the way you approach your work?
I only use my iPad to draw everything now, and if I want to pretend that I have a steady workstation, I’ll use my Cintiq. I still am not as comfortable on the Cintiq as I am on Procreate, but it’s still pretty solid and nice. That’s the good part about technology. The bad part about technology is how AI art has been messing things up for me. I’m currently in a lawsuit about AI art as a class rep. Some of my stuff got turned into AI art late last year, so I have to give a deposition at some point. 
What is a convention experience that has stuck with you?
Honestly, they’re all good! I feel like Lightbox Expo has been really nice because it’s truly been a convention for artists. I feel like that’s where most of my audience is, and they’re all around because their purpose is to be better at art. That’s where a lot of original artists do well because they’re getting art they’re inspired by, not so much fanart. I like the Lightbox Expo because it encompasses the pure love of art very well. 
Top tips on setting up an Artist Alley booth?
Use a Y axis, not just your X axis! Take advantage of it! Branding is also something to think about. It is definitely something I’m getting better at. Having an assistant is also very important. I’ve also heard that 8.5x11 to 12x18 inches is usually a good size for prints, but I also provide postcard-sized prints because sometimes people don’t want to commit to a larger size. 
Who on Tumblr inspires you and why?
You know this is so funny. I’ve been following @alicexz for over a decade on Tumblr and other platforms. I’ve followed her work since high school, and we’ve only recently become peers. I found her, and we met for the first time in real life, and she recognized me. And then I found all my drawings from when I was in my Alice phase, back in high school, and I was like, “Yo, this is when I was trying to be you so badly!” and she was cracking up and was like “Wow, this is so good!” It was such a sweet moment. I wanted to take a picture of her holding my drawing up. It’s really nice because now we’re peers.
Thank you so much for stopping by and sharing, Deb! Be sure to check out their Tumblr blog over at @jdebbiel.
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audrey-emeralds · 5 months
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Smashing Diamonds
Pairing: Nate Jacobs x Fem!Reader
Summary: The well-organized party turns south for Nate when he sees his former fling just a few steps away from Maddie, with whom he recently rekindled. Deciding to stay away from her, he realizes he can't help himself after noticing what she is wearing. Word count: 2.3k (2381 words)
Warnings: smut, dirty talk, name-calling, slut shaming, degradation, fingering, a bit of choking, cursing, unprotected sex
A/n: I don't know why but I got the need to try something dirty and Nate is the perfect person to try this on. Anyway, first time really trying to get into it, so I apologize if it isn't the best. Also, I wrote this as quickly as I could, because I was afraid the writer's block was gonna get me, but thankful it did!
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Friday night, a perfect time for partying. When your friend Lea first mentioned the idea, you already knew what you wanted to wear. A very transparent top and skirt, with minimal material, mostly consisting of thin stripes of diamonds. A hot look for any club.
However, Lea didn't have any club on her mind. She mentioned your friends from East Highland High.
" You remember Barbara, yeah, well she said that there was this party happening on Friday and how we should totally come. " You thought about it, not much linked you to the people from there, which seemed like a great opportunity to meet new people and face new adventures. Without any hesitation, you agreed to this party.
~~~time skip~~~
After dressing up, you gave yourself a few spins, and view your reflection from the full body mirror, admiring the shiny gems that only covered small parts of your skin.
" This is going to be epic. " You took a selfie of yourself as you heard a car honking in front of your house. Quickening your steps, you managed to pass your living room with neither of your parents taking a glance at you, knowing they wouldn't approve of the outfit.
" Damn, girl, are you trying to get knocked up?!?! " Lea let her jaw fall to the floor as you were walking towards her car.
" Hahaha, not really. " A giggle slipped through your glossy lips.
" Well, good luck trying to find a guy who will pull out in time with you like this. "
You gasped dramatically, giggling once again. " Oh my God, Lea! " She winked at you, driving away from your house and straight to the party house.
Before you even stepped into the house, a smell of weed hit your nose. Alcohol bottles were at every table, every counter, and at any corner available. The whole house was covered in purple and pink lights, pouring over the crowds, not missing a single human. Music was bombing the whole place with its beat, and you couldn't wait to get to the dancing.
You noticed that just next to the big sofa, Barbara sat on an armchair, vaping casually. Lea and you made your way over to her. She quickly saw you coming her way and stood up with open arms.
" Look who's here!! " She screamed out, even though it was barely heard due to the loud music.
" So glad you could come! " She said firstly looking at Lea and then at you. It took her 10 seconds to look at you before she commented " Obviously with a purpose! "
You laughed, smiling at her and slightly shrugging. Lea just nodded enthusiastically at her. She encourages you to give Barbara a turn, at which you initially shake your arms. However, Barbara was intrigued and kept encouraging you to do so. Giving them a mocking eye roll, you spun around with Lea holding your hand in the air.
" Well shit, you better take that ass on the dance floor. " BB clicked with her tongue.
" Oh, don't worry I will, but first I need a drink to warm up. " At your words Barbara, lead you two to the drinks, giving each of you a glass.
" In that case, drink the fuck up! "
Two and a half cups of alcohol were more than enough to make you drag yourself and Lea on the dance floor. The beat was gushing out of the speakers so loudly, you could feel it in your chest.
You completely let yourself go to the music, the freedom you were able to feel while dancing was mesmerizing. Nothing else had your focus and attention, with this addictive feeling you couldn't care less what your outfit was showing and whatnot.
Across the room, Nate was standing with his friends, as each held their cup, staring at the new girl. You.
" Fuck, who's that? " One groaned out while eyeing your body.
" Just some girl from Valley Torah High. " Nate's voice spoke as each of his friends turned to him with interest.
" Yo, Jacobs, you never told us about this one. You fucked her, right? " The same guy asked, waiting to hear confirmation. Nate looked at him quickly before, staring back at you.
" Ohhh! So where are the photos, we didn't see her yet. " Nate frowned at him, as the group of guys laughed.
" I didn't take any. " He admitted quickly. Meeting the guy's confused faces, he added. " Didn't have time. "
" I see. " The black-haired one said straightening himself up. " Well in that case we will make some. " He turned to the guy next to him, pulling out his phone and handing it to him, before deciding otherwise and giving his phone to Nate.
" I trust you will know better which angles to film. " With that, he started approaching you. Nate didn't even acknowledge the phone fully, his mind was kept on you.
The way you swayed to the song, dancing and turning. Nate had sex with you twice, firstly after meeting you at a party and the secondly when you accidentally found yourself in the same store. Expect that nothing else happened, you two barely ever talked, you knew your names but that was it.
Nate did make an effort to ask for your number, but with him getting together with Maddie once again, he didn't think of contacting you. He did, however, look at your social media, just enough to know which school you attended and who you hung out with.
Since he was on good terms with Maddie, who knows would you two ever interact again, if it wasn't for this night, that outfit, and Nate's friend.
As the guy was approaching you, Nate took the chance to look at your surroundings, seeing his girlfriend had spotted you. " Of course, she did, who fucking didn't? " He thought to himself while watching the stipes of your skirt reveal your cheeks.
The sight made him close his eyes for a second to regain his senses. The outfit was almost slutty, whorish, he thought, but yet it just made it harder for him to not start rubbing his pants.
Just before the man next to you could get to you, one of Nate's friends tried to call out to him. " Yo, you filmin' this? "
Without any hesitation, Nate dropped the damn phone, muttering under his breath " fuck this. " and fastly started making his way towards you.
His friends laughed a bit, at his reaction, waiting to see what was about to unfold. You were still in your own world when a black-haired guy spoke to you. " Hey- " not even properly starting his sentence before Nate go to him. He looked at him with a puzzled look on his face. " Thanks for borrowing me your phone, now you can go back for it, I left it with Caleb. " The taller guy said, composed and relaxed.
You stared at the two strangers, the taller one had a serious face as he spoke to the other one. " What are you talk- "
" Caleb has it. Your phone. " He cut him off, you tried to hear better what were they talking about as you leaned closer to them. The two of them just stared at each other, not matching their facial expression.
" Go. " The taller one almost whispered it to the other one's ear, who left only a second later. Just then you could recognise the man in front of you.
" Oh hey, you. Nate right? " He just nodded slowly, his eyes watching you lazily, his figure towering over you. You stared at him, awkwardly standing, feeling a bit uncomfortable since you were the only two people not dancing in the crowd.
" Come with me. " Nate said, walking away to the stairs. You followed before stopping in front of the stairs and calling after him. " For what? "
He turned to you, an annoying expression on his face, almost frustrated. " We both know why you are here, so you gonna come and get it or what? " You turned back to see Lea was drinking at the kitchen counter, before meeting your eye, you supposed she couldn't see Nate, but she knew what going upstairs meant, so with a jovial smile, she made a cheering gesture.
You laughed, acknowledging her excitement, and then followed Nate upstairs. He didn't look at the people that were there, he walked right passed them and into a room, that seemed almost fully prepared for this encounter to take place.
You went in after him, closing the door. " So you remember me? " He asked a rhetorical question. " Then you must remember what you were doing to me. " Your eyes glanced at him innocently, after all that dancing, you still felt a bit mischievous.
" I don't know Nate, am I suppose remember it? " He immediately came closer to you, almost fully, chest to chest. " You wanna play a game ha? "
" Is this what you came for? "
You preached up your lips as if you were thinking about it, locking up at him and seeing the tense position of his jaw. A lot took for you to not smile, since you knew the moment you looked down you would see how much more tension was held in his lower area. But, of course you couldn't resist to look. " Oh my. " You gasped, almost faking it. " Now I see what is stressing you out. "
Your hand automatically pushed itself on his bulge, making him bite into his lower lip. But before you could even react to that, he spun you around and pinned you on the wall. Now his covered dick almost went right into your hole, as he made the quietest groan ever.
As he held you in that position, his big hands began to rub in the inner of both of your thighs, the warmth it was creating made you push yourself into him completely out of reflex. He groaned into your ear, before sneaking one of his hands into your panties, only to rip them off you. His fingers immediately stuck themselves inside you, teasing each and every part viciously.
" Fuck, ah! " You moaned hard into the wall. He left his right hand to flick around your pussy and let his left hand reach your breasts. He easily got to them, as only the diamond stripes kept him from squeezing them firmly causing you to hiss out in a painful satisfaction.
" Fuck, yeah! Tell me how it feels. " Nate pushed his still-covered front into you, as his fingers played with your entrance, before entering into you once again.
" Oh, Nate! " You practically screamed out his name. " It feels so fucking good! " You couldn't help but drag yourself all over his pants, just wishing you could pull them down. However, your hands were more preoccupied with holding you against the wall.
" Imagine how good would it feel with my dick inside you. " At that, you whined mockingly, pushing your ass into him. This made his hand leave your pinched breasts as he smacked your ass, vividly leaving his handprint on it.
" A whore like you would, just love that, wouldn't you? " You nodded hard, making sure he had seen it. His left hand then once again made contact with your ass, slapping it to the point of full redness. His fingers still worked on you, as you felt your orgasm approaching. Nate noticed it, smirking before completely letting you go. He placed his hands on his pants, starting to pull them down. You turned to him, wishing to do it yourself, but were met with rejection.
" You better keep those hands on the fucking wall. You already fucked with me enough tonight, so I'm going to let you know how it feels. " You barely turned around, as he slipped his hard dick into you. The sudden thrust into you made you scream out in pleasure. Nate didn't even let you take a full breath in before he started pounding into you.
He thrusted more and more into you, groaning at the feeling. His hands held your hips as he fucked you. His eyes watched your ass bounce with all the diamond stripes. The diamonds glimmered and shook at each smack, creating a quite beautiful sight that was hard to look away from. It was mesmerizing him and he truly thought about how much he enjoyed this, having you against the wall, being completely at his mercy and command, he was becoming harder just thinking about it.
You hummed at his thrusts until Nate grabbed your neck and choked it." Be louder...can't hear you. " He said as he slammed his full length into you. " Mhm, I'm gonna cum! " You yelped out, squeezing his dick so perfectly. " Yeah, come on...fuck! " Nate encouraged smugly, stopping his rhyme just for a moment. " I want to see you cum on my dick. " He then slammed once again, strongly into you, as you shook helplessly.
" You wanted this all along. To get...fucked so well. And so...dirty! " Nate panted into your ear, biting on your earlobe, before relesing it. " Mhm, fuck...I like you this tight. And wet. " His left hand was left at your ass as his right one returned to your pussy. Fingers rubbing into you, before sliding in.
" Mhmm... " You moaned as tears started to come out of your eyes. " Yeah...come on! Come on my dick! " With just one merciless push into you, you released your juices all over him. Nate groaned at the feeling of wetness covering him, throwing his head back, before returning to fucking you.
" Nate! Ah! " You groaned, feeling his dick twitch. " Fuck, cum in me! " When you said it, almost breathlessly, he knew he couldn't keep going for long. It took a few more thrusts, before he too released his juices, pushing himself fully into you, back to back. He left breaths on your back, as you both calmed down and returned to your normal breathing pace.
Nate pulled his dick out of you, walked over to the bathroom, getting himself a towel and cleaning himself up.
" You still fuck good, Jacobs. I remember it. " Nate only smirked at your words, trying to not let it affect him too much. He took one towel and gave it to you to do the same.
" I still have your number. I might text you for another time. "
" We will see if you will. "
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a-aexotic · 1 year
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HEYYYY! So like every other mf on the planet right now I am in my hunger games era!!
Please could you write a Finnick x Reader where she is selected for the quarter quell (Maybe in her games she was lethal and killed like 10+ people?)
And when Katniss shoots the arena in catching fire she gets taken by the capitol (Like Peeta) and they torture her and shit? Then Finnick and her get there reunion she’s all like battered and bruided and it’s dead sad? Not sure if this made sense because i’m half asleep and dyselxic but let me know😭🤣
Maybe he says “It’s okay baby i got you” ??? x
hey of course i can! i hope u enjoy it babe <3 its a tiny bit long! my apologizes
cw's: angst, mentions of killing/dying, typical thg stuff, torture, ptsd, lmk if i missed anything
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You were one of the youngest victors alongside Finnick, being only 15 and having won your games. You were also from District 4. You won the 68th Hunger Games, a few years after Finnick.
When you were reaped, Finnick and Mags were your mentors. Finnick came off as self absorbed and arrogant but once you started talking to him, the more you realized that was total bullshit. He wasn't how the Capitol portrayed him, he was much more caring and compassionate. He was very sympathetic to your situation, having gone through the same things.
During your time in the arena, you were one of the most ruthless tributes of all time. In the beginning, you were easily overlooked. The tributes weren't thinking that you were going to be much of a challenge because of your size and the way you carried yourself.
But that was exactly how you wanted to be portrayed. You tricked the Careers into thinking you were some naïve little girl, stabbing them in the back (literally) the first chance you got. The Capitol loved the turn of events, cheering you on.
When you had come back home, you had finally understood the intensity of what you had done. You had killed a whole group of people, ending their lives permanently. Those people had lives and family who loved them, and now they're gone because of you.
You suffered through months and months from never ending nightmares. Even getting consoled by your mother didn't help anymore; she doesn't understand. You didn't even feel worthy of food anymore.
You closed off Mags and Finnick when you had come home, driving yourself into isolation and depression. You rarely went out anymore, eating one meal a day and slept more than 80% of the day. Even sleeping couldn't mend the eternal tiredness you had, the void that filled your body.
Finnick had felt more than responsible for your pain. He gave you time before he realized he was just adding to your pain. Even when you didn't communicate back to him, Finnick visited you every day. He gave you advice and told you what he had went through after the Games as well. Eventually you opened up more to Finnick, and slowly, he had become your best friend.
He had told you that numbing it wasn't going to make it go away. He reminded you that you had him and Mags to help you with this process, and that you weren't alone despite of how you felt.
He helped you regain your sense of purpose again, your self image again. Finnick had singlehandedly helped you rebuilt your sense of self again.
He saw a part of you in him, that scared 14 year old boy who was trying to go back home to his parents. He never wanted anyone to feel that, especially you.
He promised you that he would never let anything bad ever happen to you again.
During your Victor's tour, Snow had suddenly deemed you desirable by the Capitol, wanting to sell you as he did with Finnick. Finnick couldn't risk getting involved, wanting to protect his family.
Every night in the Capitol, you were always consoled by Finnick. Every time you had to do a favor, you remember walking to Finnick's room to sleep, not baring the thought of having to sleep alone in the cold bed. He was always there, holding your hand comfortingly as you both slept.
The Capitol adored you both, nicknaming you the princess and prince of Panem. The more time you spent with Finnick, the more the media had speculated a relationship between the young victors.
You and Finnick had connected in many ways. Both having the same trauma, it was easy to talk to him and for him to understand how hard it was.
You and Finnick eventually got together a few years later, then getting married (in secret, of course) almost right after. You were both deeply in love.
Finnick found solace in the thought of always having you by his side, remembering that no one could tear you apart. That was until the Quarter Quell was announced.
You and Finnick were sitting at the edge of the couch, listening to Caesar's words carefully as he explained that this year's Hunger Games was going to be very different.
When it was announced that there will be only be Victors in this year's games, you heard dropped. You looked over at Finnick and he shared the same terrified look on his face.
--
When Annie's name had been called, you without any second thought, put up your hand. "I volunteer as tribute."
The crowd gasped and you looked over at Annie and you could tell she was a bit relived but still scared nonetheless. You immediately embraced her tightly, letting her let out a small sob. "It's okay, you're okay."
Mags looked just as terrified and you took her hand. When Finnick's name was called, you felt your stomach drop. Not only were you back in the arena, but you were with Finnick.
You looked over at Finnick and he looked prepared to fight. You both stood up and he grabbed your hand, raising it up in union.
The trainride to the Capitol was pretty uneventful. Finnick had wanted some time to think about the plan and so did you. A part of you knew what he was planning; he kill everyone else in the arena and then eventually himself, all for you.
As you sat on the bed, you felt the sadness and anger turn into numbness. No amount of crying was going to stop the Quater Quell and you had to be smart.
You didn't want to survive without Finnick. You were either winning with him or dying with him. Life would be meaningless without him.
Finnick knocked on your door slightly, before walking in. You looked up at him and he gave you a small smile. He took a seat next to and took your hand.
"I have a plan."
"Finnick, I know what you're thinking, and no. You're not killing yourself for me."
Finnick looked defeated. "One of us has to survive, Y/N. For Annie. For Mags."
You look a deep inhale, looking away from Finnick. "I don't want to life without you, everything would lose all it's meaning without you."
Finnick felt his heart burst into two pieces as he squeezed your hand. You felt your eyes watering again and you couldn't help but let out another quiet cry as Finnick pulled your head in, as he embraced you tightly.
"Shh, it's okay. I promise, I won't... I won't leave you."
--
It had all happened so fast, you couldn't even comprehend what had just happened. One moment, you were with Finnick trying to find Johanna and Katniss and suddenly there was big loud boom. You were relieved for a moment; Plutarch's plan had worked. Until you realized how far away you were from the others.
You were wandering, trying to find anyone until you heard people behind you. You turned and then you saw some unfamiliar faces; suddenly, your vision went black.
Then, you woke up in a white room. You felt like your stomach had dropped out of your body once the realization hit you; the Capitol captured you.
You were strapped down to a bed and you couldn't move or shake it off. The severity of the situation had hit you; even if by some miracle you did escape, where would you go? How would you find your way to 13 and back to Finnick?
You knew how ruthless the Capitol was to everyone who disobeyed them. Your worst fears had come true and there was no getting out of here.
You heard the door open and you saw some Peacekeepers come in and then you saw the person you dreaded to see most; Snow. You felt like your whole had come crashing down, how could this nightmare become any worse?
"Hello, Y/N."
You didn't respond, resorting to stare at the wall in front of you instead.
He tutted disappointedly. "Out of all the tributes, you were the one I expected least to be involved in this mess. You are the Princess of Panem... What a shame."
You still hadn't replied and you hadn't dared to look at Snow. Months and months you spent trying to heal the trauma he had caused you, you were sure if you had to look at him now, you would break.
"I want to take mercy on you, dear Y/N. If you tell me everything you know about the rebellion, I will make sure the Peacekeepers are gentle with you."
You shook your head. "No."
He let out a small chuckle. "Sorry, I couldn't hear you. What?"
"No." You said again, louder.
He hummed in disapproval. "Okay then, you leave me no choice. You are going to regret this."
He nodded to the Peacekeepers and walked out of the room. You were then met with Peacekeepers, loosening the straps then taking you to another room.
If Snow knew one thing about you, it was that being only physical with you wouldn't hurt you enough. He had to hit you were it hurt most.
They threw you in the seemingly vacant room and immediately locking it. You were confused until you heard it.
"Y/N, help me!" Finnick's voice screamed. "Please, help me! Get up and do something, they're killing me! Please."
You looked everywhere in the dark room, trying to find the source. It kept going.
"Y/N, please! Help! What the hell are you doing, just sitting there? You are such a disappointment!" The voice started shouting. "We should've just left you to died in the arena! You are useless!"
Now this was something new. Your body was filled with panic and fear and even though you knew it was fake, you felt like you were going to throw up from all the noise.
Suddenly, Annie's voice came in as well. Then Johanna's. Then your mother's. There was nonstop noise filled with screams for help, shouting with disapproving messages. Your body couldn't handle it; it was so overwhelmed with fear that you started shaking on the ground, putting your hands on your ears but that did little to nothing.
You wanted it to stop. It was too much, you were trembling. It felt like days, just sitting there in that room listening to all those demeaning voices of your loved ones. You couldn't even think straight anymore.
It was so bad you had started to pound your head on the ground, screaming and crying. You had have enough. And then, it all stopped. Silence was foreign for you; your ears were ringing.
You were sitting on the ground, almost lifeless as the Peacekeepers took you away. Your eyes hurt from the tears, your body sore, your ears ringing and your head was pounding.
But you knew that was just the beginning.
--
You were asleep in bed and you were awakened by the door opening, you instantly jolted up. You looked over to see a group of masked men in front of you and you had started to tremble again, silent tears rolling down your face, thinking that the Peacekeepers had come again.
"No, no, no." You started to mumble to yourself.
A man came up to your and took your bruised hand slowly, rubbing it gently in silent empathy. That was the first soft touch you'd felt in a few weeks and it almost stung.
"It's okay, you're safe now. You're going to 13 now."
You had to blink a couple times, trying to process what he said. Was this a dream? You went to pinch yourself but it was real life.
He then helped you up but you couldn't help but stumble; your legs were weak, you couldn't remember the last time the Peacekeepers let you walk for this long.
As you got into the hovercraft, you saw Annie. Your eyes widened as you both ran up to each other, embracing each other. She had started to cry a little bit and so did you.
That was when it hit you. You were going to see Finnick. You were going home. You started crying into Annie's shoulder as she held you. "We're safe now, we're safe."
You had seen Johanna as well but she didn't seem too responsive. Neither did Peeta. You fell asleep on Annie's shoulder on the ride back and for the first time, you actually felt yourself drifting off calmly.
--
There were lots of doctors and nurses looking at you and asking you all sorts of questions and you tried your best to answer them. You were still in shock; you were safe. They couldn't hurt you anymore.
"Y/N?" You turned around to see Finnick. You immediately got up from the examiner's table and ran into his arms, your eyes starting to water up again.
"Finnick," you sighed slowly. You pulled away, putting your hands on his face and touched him as if he wasn't real.
"Are you.. Are you really here?"
"Yes, I'm really here." Finnick looked at you and suddenly his voice transported you back into the dark room. You quickly twisted out of his embrace and his expression changed.
His voice was back and you heard all of the nasty things he had to you. You back away, stumbling into the examiner's table and your breathing became heavy. "No, no, no, please-please go away. No."
You slid down to the floor and you closed your eyes, putting your hands on your ears and rocking back and forth trying to get that voice to stop.
Finnick ran up to you and put his hands on your knees, trying to get you to look at him. His heart broke in half; he didn't know what the Capitol had done to you but now he knows it has something to do with him.
Of course the Capitol would try to ruin him. His eyes started to tear up at the sight of you, in so much pain and panic.
You opened your eyes, Finnick in front of you. You started to cry some more before Finnick slowly went up to you, wrapping his arms around you.
When he had started wrapping your arms around you, your instinct was to push him away but his warmth was welcoming and safe and you started to focus on his touch. The voices slowly drifted away, the sounds of your silent sobs only being heard.
You then gave into Finnick's touch, falling into him and putting your head in his chest as he caressed your back gently, shushing you.
"It's okay baby, I got you. You're safe now, they can't hurt you."
6K notes · View notes
ceilidho · 6 months
Text
landscape with honey
summary: price/reader bear shifter fic. PART 4. (read the whole thing on ao3 here) tags: light daddy kink, breeding kink, very nsfw, she/her pronouns for reader
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He starts showing up at your house at odd hours. 
You’re fixing coffee in the morning, still fuzzy and warm from sleep, only to hear the sounds of hammering outside. Wrapping yourself in just a housecoat, you find John fixing the loose step on your stairs, barely sparing enough time to greet you before returning to the task at hand. When he finishes, he brushes off your attempts to pay him for the job, just loading his tools back in the car and driving off.
You sip your coffee and wonder. Odd.
The next day, you find him raking the leaves in your lawn. Two days later, he shows up at the grocers when you’re picking up produce, and helps you carry all your bags to the car. He also adds a peculiar amount of canned goods to your order and when you fret and try to tell him that you don’t need the pickles and sauerkraut and beans and all of that stuff, he just lays a hand flat on your head and drags it down your hair until you go quiet. 
He pays for the whole order.
You’ve never had to wonder about a man’s actions. Men are largely inscrutable to you, ever-shifting. They say one thing and mean another. They look at you like one might look at an oil painting, entitled something like Virgin Meeting Her Lover’s Eyes From The Top Of The Staircase or Landscape With Virgin. They speak to you as though an answer were entirely antithetical to their purpose in conversing with you. 
John listens to you with a focus that borders on intimidating, like he wants to hear each word enunciated exactly how you might enunciate it. It has the sharp clarity of respect, of a mutual acknowledgement of humanity. He also comes over to fix your sink without you having to ask. The world of men is still largely confusing to you. 
John grows surlier as the days grow shorter though. He doesn’t snap or snarl at you the way he does sometimes with his recruits (you rarely see him interact with them, but sometimes you’ll drop him off his lunch on the days when you’re feeling particularly generous and that’s when you’ll have the rare pleasure of hearing him shout at a trembling twenty-three year old for littering on the trail like a military captain), but it’s a near thing. 
The worst is when he catches you on a jog one morning on his drive to work. You see his truck with the faded red paint pass you by and you give a short wave that he returns. He passes you by about half a yard before coming to a full stop and reversing. You stare at him as the window rolls down, brows furrowed.
“Hi Jo—” you start.
“Get in the car,” John growls. You hear the doors unlock. 
“…My uh…my shift’s in two hours, John, I can’t just—”
“Get in the car.”
“This is my only time to exercise!”
“If I have to get out of this car and drag you inside, honey, I will. Don’t play with me. Get in.”
You get in the car. Probably wisely. Still dripping sweat and shivering from the cold—you’re not used to jogging in the winter, or at all for that matter, but it seemed like as good a time as any to start—you glance over to stare at the side of John’s face. His jaw is set, almost as if in anger. His knuckles are white over the steering wheel as he makes a U-turn and drives back into town. The cab of his truck smells like flannel pulled out from the back of a closet, almost musty, but comforting in the way that old clothes can sometimes smell. There’s a cigarette ashed out in the dish in front of the centre console. 
He takes you to the nearest bakery for coffee and a breakfast muffin and stares you down until you eat the whole thing. You feel like you have to scarf it down. Customers bustle into the bakery to order coffee to-go and fresh cookies and scones in waxy paper bags; everyone in town knows each other so you try to avoid the more curious stares when they’re turned on you.
“This is weird,” you say, staring down at the crumbs on your plate. “This is really weird.”
“This is what you get for exercising before winter,” John says, flagging down the barista for another muffin and a refill on your coffee. “Waste of calories.” The last part is said derisively, almost with a scoff. 
You frown. “Lots of people exercise. Even when it snows.”
“Winter is a time for hibernating. Not…sweat,” he says with a grimace, like the very thought is anathema to him. 
"Hibernating?" you repeat skeptically, scrunching up your nose. "I mean, I spend a lot of time indoors, but I wouldn't say I'm hibernating."
John stares at you until you look away, flushed. "Finish your breakfast."
The barista returns with another blueberry muffin and a fresh cup of coffee. At least John's the one paying. When he finally seems satisfied, he hustles you home and leaves you off at the door with a stern warning. 
“You gonna be good for me this time?” he asks, a finger curled under your chin, tilting your head up. One of his hands curls around the doorframe and your heart jumps when you hear the wood creak under his grip. This close, you can see the faintest silver streaks at his temples and the flecks of it in his beard.
“It was just a light jog,” you mumble, looking away. 
“Not a light anything,” he warns, ducking closer until you feel like shrinking back, like disappearing into your house. “Bake a cake if you have to burn off energy so bad. I’ll be over around seven, alright?” 
You mumble something, the words getting lost in themselves. It’s impossible to think with John in your space like this. It’s only when he finally pulls away and ambles back to his truck that you rock back on your heels, let go of whatever spell he had you under. 
The first week of December hits town like a truck. 
You’re trudging home alone after your shift when you make the decision to cut through the forest because you missed the last bus and you don’t want to spend an hour walking home. The first snow of the season has caught you off guard, clad in boots too autumnal and a sweater too thin for the biting cold. The flakes fall in thick chunks that stick for a brief moment before melting into the skin.
It’s not the first time you’ve travelled through the forest alone. The town is surrounded by pockets of the forest, like it can’t help enveloping whatever space is left for it. Oftentimes it’s easier just to cut through the woods rather than travel the long way around. You wouldn’t even call this the forest proper, not like the acres of trees sprouting over the mountains just off in the distance. 
A bush rustles. Your eyes flick over for a second, breath hovering in your chest before you decide that it’s just a squirrel. Nothing ever happens in a town like this. The man from the other day notwithstanding, nothing truly bad ever happens. You keep walking down the partially demarcated path, lit only by the full moon overhead. It’s so dark that the snow around you is almost blue. 
The bush rustles again. You stop this time, feet staying planted in the snow long enough for your feet to grow cold. You stare at the dark shoots covered in a layer of snow; it stripes the branches like candy from a time ago, licorice twisted with white bark, and it doesn’t move when you look at it. The bushes and trees are dense, impossible to peer through. Even walking through the forest doesn’t make you feel immersed in it. You follow a barely marked path, hard to see through the recent snowfall, and stare out into the dark woods with a kind of animal sense. Not sure whether you’re alone, whether something’s there with you, and whether it’s sensed you or if you’ve sensed it first. 
You start walking again when your feet go numb. Better to just get home.
It comes behind you again as a slightly louder rustle. It’s harder to shake off the fear this time, harder to say that it’s just the wind. The snow crunches under more than one set of feet, branches cracking under the weight of something larger than you. 
You don’t want to turn around, but the sound of something chuffing makes your stomach drop. The first thing that emerges when you turn to face it is its massive head, a white frosted muzzle, and the visible hump on its back. The wispy smoke of its breath puffs out when it breathes. Its eyes are dark, hardly reflecting any light at all. Then the rest of it emerges, the saplings bending out of its way as it clambers out of the woods and onto the path, staring you down all the while.
You’ve never seen a bear before. Not this close. Not so close that you know it’s been stalking you, know that it didn’t come upon you by accident. You’re staring down at your own body from somewhere else, fear displacing you. Rending you from your own body. There’s no way to guess its weight at a glance, but it’s easily twice the size of you, easily more than that. 
When it takes a step forward, everything goes dark. 
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You wake up snuggled under the warmth of a thick blanket. Sleep is creamy thick, engulfing you on all sides, only the faintest prickle of awareness letting you know that you’re awake. 
It’s unpleasant to leave the cotton miasma of sleep, you think. Your nose scrunches up and you let out a tired huff, trying to will yourself back into it. The harder you try to force yourself back into it though, the farther away it floats.
Still it weighs you down. It takes an age to work up the energy to so much as twitch a finger. Even your eyelids insist on staying shut. Yet, the prickle of consciousness needles at you as if to say hello, wake up, you need to get up. You sigh and try to shimmy up onto your elbows.
A hand shoves you back down. The breath rushes out of you.
“Get…back down,” a rough voice grunts from over you and then the full weight of a man settles on top of you, pressing you deep into the mattress. 
Consciousness snaps back into you, elastic sharp. The weight of him pins you to the bed, makes you sink into the plushness of—and this is gradually coalescing in your mind—an unfamiliar place. All four corners of your body are trapped under him. The voice is familiar though. Ragged, brutal. A saw taken to the trunk of an old, thick tree, too many interior rings to count. You whisper John’s name and he grunts, making you flinch from how the sound reverberates through the side of your head.
Exhaustion is thick though and it leaves you heavy, even when John slowly lifts himself to his elbows from behind you. You feel him drag his body down the length of the bed, beard scratching into your skin with every petal soft kiss dropped along your spine during his descent.
“John?” you whisper, only just able to turn your head, not even able to struggle up to your elbows. “J-John?”
He doesn’t answer you. The room is near pitch black, only a window on the other end of the room with the curtain pulled back the smallest amount enough to let the moonlight in. Even the moonlight isn’t enough. You know from the shape of the window that this isn’t your house, that it must be somewhere else. You can only surmise from John’s presence that it’s his, but that thought passes over you like a rock skipping over water. 
“Wher’m’I?” you murmur, eyes fluttering shut when his lips press over the small of your back. Sensitive there. 
Rough hands with callused fingertips smooth over your ass, pressing into the flesh. His fingers pry your cheeks apart, thumbs dipping into the space between and pressing over your hole, making you burn all over. You’re too far gone to worry about any hair on your legs or anything about your body other than John’s hands undulating over your ass and thighs. You flinch violently when his teeth sink into the meat on the underside of your ass, so tender that even exhausted to the bone your body lashes out. 
Big hands pry your legs apart. You flinch at the sudden hot breath over your sex, a whine tickling your throat. His face hovers so close to your centre that the tip of his nose presses on the tender skin near your entrance. 
“Wha’ d’you…think you’re doin’...” you ask breathlessly. Your brain tries to order your leg to kick, but it stays flat and limp on the bed. 
The first touch of John’s tongue along your slit makes you melt, the flat of his tongue lapping upward and making your hips tilt up with it. It almost makes your mind go blank again, almost tips you back into the unconscious world because the synapses in your brain stop firing the second you remember that it’s John between your legs licking hungrily at your cunt. John from the grocery store, John from the ranger’s station in the mountains—the John you’ve been crushing on and coveting for months now, content to just be friends with the gruff, handsome man in the house next to yours. Now sucking one of your nether lips into his mouth and tracing his tongue up the inside, gliding it over the supple flesh.
“Yer in the den,” John mumbles into your pussy and it’s like he sears the words into your brain. “‘N I’m takin’ care of you, honey.”
“The…the den…?” It’s so hard to keep your thoughts in order. Each flick of his tongue makes you gasp, pussy growing wetter and hips grinding languidly down on his face.
He hums instead of answering. 
“Why’m’I so tired?” you slur. 
His tongue saws over your clit from behind. It tears a broken whimper from you. You feel every textured ridge, the way it flicks around in a circle and then up and down again. 
“Winter season,” John says, sucking your clit into his mouth until you whine at the top of your lungs. “Bear’s sleep in winter.”
“Tha’s silly. M’not a bear,” you moan. 
“No,” he agrees, humming into your sex. “Jus’ mated to one. Makes you sleepy too, honey.”
“Mated?” you repeat back, but it’s lost in the way you moan when he eats your pussy from the back, licking into you with renewed vigour. Hungry like a bear. Grunting like a satisfied man, slurping loud enough to make your face heat up. 
Words and old memories about bears hardly matter when the handsome man from next door spreads your legs wide, almost to the point of pain, and sinks his tongue into your hole again. You never would’ve expected John to be vocal, but he’s noisy behind you, groaning into your cunt. He keeps mumbling things under his breath that you can’t catch. 
“John—” you gasp, biting your lip when he sucks your clit into his mouth again. “John—John—”
He only has to give you a single finger to tip you over the edge, feeds it in nice and slow. Your cunt clenches down at the intrusion, teeth nearly breaking through the skin of your lip. 
When he crawls back over you, anticipation makes you shudder. You hear something faint in the background that grows steadily louder as John rests his elbows on either side of your head, until you realize that it’s your own voice murmuring, “Put it in, put it in, put it in—”
He obliges. A thick, steady plunge that hardly manages more than a handful of inches before you’re crying, and it’s too much, too much, too much. Pleasure not a limpid pool anymore but something cavernous and deep-dwelling, pulling you in or trying to make a home inside of you for it. John’s biceps tense with the strain of holding himself back. 
You balance on the knife’s edge between pleasure and pain. There’s a single thought in your head that it might burn you up from the inside; it runs a jagged hole through you. 
His nose drags through your hair. “Never expected you. Thought I’d go another season alone ‘till I started smellin’ you around town.”
You hiccup. “Y’never—never paid me any attention ‘for— before, ah—”
“‘Course I paid attention to’ya, honey,” John says into your ear, grunting when he drives deeper into your pussy, still just a languid grind of his hips, so mind-numbingly slow that your thoughts sizzle out of your head. He keeps dragging his hips back and plunging in, barely pulling away from you, all skin on slick skin. “Made a home for m’self in your house. Made sure we had ‘nough to eat for the winter.”
“The winter?”
“Won’t be goin’ anywhere for a few months.” He brushes your hair out of the way to kiss down your neck, giving in to the urge to bite just a little. His body stays pressed tight to yours, hardly an inch of space between the two of you. “Wasn’ sure at first if it’d be here or in your house so… fuck, I had to get ready. Make sure you’d be safe when it hit.”
“Don’ even…know wha’ that means,” you mumble into the mattress, then squeal and fist the fists when John shoves a hand under you to grope your chest.
“Don’t worry about it,” he shushes you. “All y’have to do now is lie there ‘n take my cock, okay, honey? Can’ya do that for me? I’ll get some food in you after we’re done, then send ya back to bed.”
Only a whine comes out when you open your mouth. John’s arm by your head forces you to breathe in the scent of him, musky and rich. You stare at the hair on his knuckles and his thick fingers gripping the sheets as well, old nicks and scars decorating his hand. You can’t stop staring at his fingers and thinking that he had one of those in you before, that he’s felt you from the inside. 
He never pulls away, never changes positions, just fucks you on your tummy in his bed. You’ve never been in John’s bedroom before, but this has to be his room—even the pillowcase smells like him, pine needles and cigar smoke. He keeps up a steady pounding into your cunt, rutting like a wild animal. Has to be close. Gets so close to you that you feel smothered, trapped in place. Like if you struggled, he wouldn’t let up. You want to test it, see if you could, but the heaviness is still in your limbs, keeping you docile. Convenient. A little convenient thing for him to use, like a doll to get himself off with.
“Never coulda imagined such a pretty girl f’r me,” John groans, getting a grip in your hair to twist your head, tugging you into a kiss. Your whole body sparks to life, so shocked that you can’t even kiss him back at first. You wait until he pulls back, staring into his half-lidded eyes through the mess of your hair all tangled up around you. “Gave up on thinkin’ there was anyone out there. Thank fuck I found you first, honey. Can start workin’ on all the good stuff now. Get you to give daddy a baby.”
“D-daddy?” you gasp back, almost scandalized. 
He pants into your shoulder, worked up now. “Yeah, honey. Don’ I take care of you? Buy y’r food, fix y’r house? Give you someplace nice ‘n warm to sleep?”
You feel soaked with sweat, twitchy, on the verge of something dangerous. Vision all fogged up, heart beating so fast that your skin buzzes. Stretched out on a fat cock and pinned in a man’s bed, nowhere to run or hide. 
“Y-yeah,” you stutter when John gets a bit rougher, his breathing getting more staggered, laboured. 
“That’s right, girl,” he grunts, “I’m y’r fuckin’ daddy then, aren’t I?”
Magma bubbles up from deep inside of you. Rockslides off in the distance beat against the ground. When you cry out, it gets lost in the rubble. 
You stumble into the living room maybe hours later after using the washroom across the hall. Maybe a day later. It’s hard to say how many times the sun has risen and fallen behind the mountains. The clock face stares back at you uncomprehendingly. 
Come drips out of you onto the floor. Thick droplets run down your inner thighs. John is still sleeping in the bed where you left him, snoring like a chainsaw. It must’ve been what woke you up. There’s no way of knowing how long it’s been since he first brought you home, since he left a mess in your pussy, which is still puffy and sore from rough use. You walk with halting little steps to try to minimize the ache. 
You stare bleary-eyed around the room. It feels somehow different than the previous times John’s had you over; there are more throws and blankets draped over the couch, candles scattered around the living room with a lighter on the mantle. 
There’s a fire roaring in the fireplace, blanketing the house in a layer of warmth. It makes you sluggish, stumbling forward only a handful of steps before the shaggy rug in front of the fire drags you back down to the floor. 
“What’re you doing out of bed, pretty girl?” someone rumbles from behind you. 
“Had t’pee,” you say, blinking. You try to rub the sleep out of your eyes unsuccessfully. “Why’m’I still so tired? It’s been…I slept so long…”
“C’mon, honey,” John says, coming up behind you and curling his arms around you, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. “Told you it was gonna be a long winter. Maybe just one more and then somethin’ to eat, okay?”
It’s easy to sink to the floor, so easy. Especially with the fluffy rug under your feet. Especially with the fireplace toasting you from the outside in, the tinder crackling in the hearth. Everything in the house is dark and warm, only the fire giving you any light at all. Outside the window, the moon is still heavy in the sky. 
Something about the humidity of the den makes you suddenly so tired, boneless, pliable when he goes to move you, when John curves himself around you in the furs and reaches down to slide a hand between your thighs. 
He grunts when he finds you wet and wanting, sinking a couple fingers in and palming your clit. He doesn’t talk much still, but he says good girl when he cants your hips and slowly stretches you out on his cock. Feeds it into you achingly slow, like molasses. Like nothing’s due for another few months, so why rush it? He’ll take his time so you’re nice and happy and sweet come spring for cubs.
You’re not sure what that means. The pace is slow and deep, like before but less intentional. Like he just wants to savour the warmth of your body. 
When he finally comes deep inside you, your body goes limp, collapsing in a heap onto the rug. You expect John to pull out and turn over, maybe pull you onto his chest so you have somewhere to rest. Instead, he sighs all tired and content, and stays in you, still plugged up in your cunt, his spend only just starting to leak out into a pool beneath you. 
“Are we gonna eat?” you mumble, already half-asleep.
Somewhere behind you, he laughs; it’s soft like a snowfall in winter. “Yeah, honey. After a nap, we can eat.”
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shadowspromise · 7 months
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ghoapy thoughts
Ghost has a stupid crush on you. He swears he’ll deny it till the end of time.
Soap has an enthusiastic crush on you. He makes it painfully obvious.
Ghost has an even stupider crush on Soap. He tells himself every morning not to let his feelings get ahead of his job.
Soap has, yet again, an enthusiastic crush on Ghost. It’s even more obvious, somehow, than his crush on you.
You know that Soap’s down tremendously for Ghost, but you know that he’s also flirting with you. It confuses you, making you wonder if he’s just naturally flirty or if he really likes both of you.
Ghost wakes up every morning, looks in the mirror, gives himself a firm slap across his own face and tells himself to behave. Crushes are stupid and he’s a grown man with a grown man job. He doesn’t have time for his stupid feelings.
Oh, but when it’s just Ghost and Soap at the bar together, after a few too many drinks…
They can’t help but talk about each other, talk about you. They keep buying each other drinks, knowing that at this rate they’ll have to call someone to pick them up.
“Could barely focus during Price’s meeting today. You an’ Y/N wearin’ those tight shirts… drivin’ me up the damn wall…” Ghost rambles, his eyes parallel to Soap’s.
“Ah did it on purpose, ya know ah love distractin’ you…” Soap responds, his accent thicker due to the alcohol. His cheeks are heavily tinted red, both from blushing and the drinking.
“You think Y/N knows what they’re doin’ to us? Think they do it on purpose too?” Ghost replies, smirking from under his mask. He lifts it over his nose to take another drink.
“God, I hope so,” Soap mumbles, rubbing his temples. He can’t even remember how many drinks he’s had tonight.
“You a’ight Johnny? Think we should go?” Ghost asks, intentionally touching Soap’s shoulder as an act of comfort (and seduction).
“Ah’m fuckin’ blootered, ah’m see’in colors when I close my damn eyes… cannae even feel my toes properly…” Soap starts muttering. Ghost only comprehends about half of what he just said but gets the general point.
“I’ll ask someone to get us. We’ll wake up in a whorehouse if we try walkin’ ourselves back…” Ghost pulls out his phone, squinting his eyes at the screen, trying to focus.
He texts Gaz and gets no answer, probably because it’s late and he’s sleeping.
He texts Price and gets the response of “You’re big boys, get yourself back.”
That leaves you. He decides to rethink a nicer message than the “pick johnny and I up cuntbag” he sent to the others.
“Johnny and I are drunk. Would appreciate if you came and walked us back to base.”
Simon mentally gives himself a pat on the back for managing to type all that without sounding condescending or making a dozen typos.
You respond within 15 seconds, to his surprise. Although he knew you were a good boy/girl and were always eager to help.
“Sure thing. Will be there soon ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ”
The little emoticons you send him drives him mad.
“Aye, you think they’re into me? They put a… fuckin’ dog or whatever…” Ghost shows Johnny his phone.
“That’s a bear, mate,” Soap points at the text.
“I think it’s a dog.”
“Well you’re wrong, ye braw bastard.”
The bar is just about a ten minute walk from base and you’ll be there any minute, so they spent their “alone” time talking about you (and the things they’d do to you)
When you arrive, Soap gets overly excited and falls over. Ghost tries with every nerve in his body not to laugh, attempting to keep up the cold and stoic personality for you.
You guide them back to base, stopping Soap from stumbling onto the road. Ghost is much more physically put together, but mentally he’s having an aneurysm. He’s staring at Johnny’s ass whenever he has the chance and can physically feel himself get warmer when your arm brushes against his.
At base, you attempt to push them into their separate rooms but they refuse. Ghost and Soap give one drunken look at each other and it’s seconds before they’re cornering you.
That night, all three of you had your dreams come true.
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fushigurro · 6 months
Text
𝗧𝗢𝗝𝗜 𝗙𝗨𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗚𝗨𝗥𝗢 𝗫 𝗙!𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥. ⌇ 18+ only, mdni / unprotected piv / noncon creampie, breeding + mentions of pregnancy / dom/sub dynamics / petnames (good girl, baby, sweetheart) / biting
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“c’mon, be a good girl and let me cum inside this pretty pussy.”
he tries to persuade you as though he hadn't earlier promised that he would pull out, that he wouldn't attempt to sway you from your position of not being willing to take the risk and let him finish inside.
you vigorously shake your head and hum in disagreement at his proposal. toji's a dirty fucking liar but you somehow still find it in yourself to love him, to allow him to slide into you completely raw, knees almost up to your chest as he fucks you into the mattress because he has two different types of holds on you.
“aww, why not, sweetheart? you don’t want me to fill up that sweet little belly?" he punctuates every sentence with a heavy thrust, voice a malicious tease in your ear paired with an equally selfish grin. but then he moves to hold your gaze with a commanding intensity. "gimme fuckin’ words, baby. i need words.”
you gulp and gasp for air, his hips stopping long enough to allow you a moment to breathe. “i don’t want a baby.”
toji offers an amused scoff at your response. “yeah? s'that right?" he's convinced that a part of you is lying and that you wouldn't even think of letting him fuck you raw if something about the risk didn't appeal to you. "too afraid to be a mommy for my babies?"
those words ignite a flame of anxiety within you, but curiously enough also make you clench around him as he picks up the pace a little, holding back a growl as his fantasies wrack his brain.
"s’too bad," he says, tone growing more serious, "i think you’d be pretty good at it, even if you act like a brat yourself half the time.”
it almost doesn't sound like he's joking anymore, but how could he not be? there's no way toji could truly want a child—he can't even afford one, but all the possibilities make your thoughts go muddy and incomprehensible. you simply turn your head to the side to avoid looking at him straight on, flustered and overstimulated from previous orgasms, but he uses a strong hand to grab your cheeks and steer you back in the right direction.
“what the hell did i just say about using your words, huh? you better fuckin’ speak up or i’m breeding this tight little cunt right now." it almost seems as though he's offering you a choice with his hips speeding up and wrecking your insides like this. he's in control, but he's desperate, sweat beading along his forehead as he chuckles breathlessly. "hell, i might do it anyways with you suckin’ me in so good.”
gasping, your eyes go wide. “no, no, no!” you meekly protest, but it's too late—he pins your wrists to the bed and angles his hips to more accurately hit your deepest points, cock driving into you with even more purpose now.
“shit…” he curses and feels himself start to lose his composure, quickly slamming into you a few more times before halting balls deep and twitching his release out inside you. the hot, fresh surges of cum warm your womb as he stays rooted in place, determined to force his seed as deep as it can possibly go. in his mind, that’ll only make it easier for it to take and bring his current vision to fruition: you round and full with a baby that’s undoubtedly his. this is the image that flashes through his mind and makes his cock pulse with an orgasm that’s nearly paralyzing, teeth biting into the flesh of your neck like you're the pretty animal he's just claimed and mated.
once the storm has settled, his hot tongue licks over the mark in your skin to soothe it followed by a kiss and one more slow roll of his hips for good measure. "that's a good girl," the large pad of his thumb brushes the tears from your lashes as if he isn't the one who caused them. his hand is a little rough but still affectionate as it grips your face again and forces you into a possessive kiss.
toji pulls out of you with a wet squelch and a shit-eating grin. "gotta fight back a little better next time if you don't want me to get you pregnant."
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ghouljams · 9 months
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Cowboy!Konig definitely has a breeding kink. I feel like he’s trying to get her pregnant every time they fuck. It fulfills his little trad wife fantasy. The thought of coming home to his pregnant wife and eventually his wife and kids. Man eats that up.
-♠️
God he fucking does he is so rrrrrrrrr
He loves that Bee is so smart and capable, loves that she's a wizard with tech, loves that this woman is so hopeless with farm shit because she's so crammed full of other information. Goddammit he wants to see her with a baby on her hip so fucking bad. Bee thinks he's just dirty talking her but he's 100% serious.
König pushes back into you with a groan, holding your leg high to watch his cock enter your cunt. He thrusts into you slow and shallow, and you whine. “We’ve got to keep it all in Schöne,” He murmurs, pressing his lips to your ear, "don't want to waste a drop."
When he talks to you like that, his cock slick with both your cum, you can't think. Your head spins, wound tight and sensitive even after orgasm. He doesn't stop, keeps fucking his cum into you with a purpose that you should find dangerous, but it's all fun right? There's no harm in clenching around his thick cock, trying to get more heat, more friction, trying to feel the veins running along his heavy length. Right?
He hits so deeply inside you, rolls his hips to keep the head of his cock nestled against your cervix and you think he is actually trying to get you pregnant. He knows you're on birth control, knows he isn't really going to breed you. You both know that. You're sure he knows that.
"You'd look so cute with my babies," he murmurs in your ear, "sehr gut Mama, keep clenching on me like that, braves Mädchen." You shiver, arch back against him as he drives into your poor cunt. It's not enough apparently. König pulls out and turns you onto your back to settle between your legs again. "One more, ja?" He rubs his cock over your slit, his balls knocking against your ass. Heavy, full, waiting to fill you to the brim.
Big man, big appetites, you remind yourself, your morning cuddles all but forgotten. You nod your head quickly, always desperate for him, and watch him press his cock into you. His hands grip under your knees and push them up, folding you in half as he starts fucking you again. He angles his hips, hits you right in that soft sweet spot that makes you gasp. König leans down to kiss you, stealing them between your breaths with a smile.
"Good, so good for me," he tells you, his voice rough, "Ich werde dich schwängern, du dummes Mädchen, also nimm einfach alles und sag Danke." You whine and shake your head, watch him bring his fingers to his mouth to wet them before rubbing them over your clit. "Danke mein Herr," he reminds you, eyes keeping you from looking away even as you squirm.
"Thank you, Sir," you whimper, watching his eyes roll a little, his pace losing its rhythm briefly. You love what you can do to him. You are a little worried about what he's going to do to you though...
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simpjaes · 5 months
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mlt to be into messy sex like they get turned on the messier it gets eg. squirting, cumming on your face/other body parts
MTL: hyung line + messy sex/cum play
warning: messy stuff involving spit, cum, sweat, squirt (+implied piss), period sex
under the cut so people aren't forced to see details.
most
heeseung: you said messy and i'm writing this with purpose specifically but, squirting is his fave thing ever. every girl he gets on top if will squirt for him or he ain't calling them back. this does happen to involve a lot of water drinking before hand, and a very locked bathroom door lmao. that aside, i think heeseung would be really into cum play as well. coming in you, on your ass, thighs, legs, feet, tits, hands, and/or back. would also probably come all over himself if it comes down to it. Same for you, he's obsessed with your wet, and would probably try to drown in it if he could.
jay: (im insane for him rn pls look the other way) i imagine jay would be pretty into the messy blowjobs. i'm talking like, cum and saliva bubbling out of the corners of your mouth, tears running down your cheeks, etc. for him, there's something about being pussy drunk when his girl is cock drunk in turn, and it always leads to the messiest and best sex. The head you give is is loud, wet, lots of slurping sounds, lots of gagging. the head he gives is equally as loud, though he's probably moaning a lot through it too. i think he's the type that wants you to collect his cum on your tongue and let him watch you swallow it. also the type to fill your mouth full of his cum, tell you to hold it in without swallowing just to see it dribble out of the sides of your mouth. he thinks it's gross and disgusting, but entirely too hot that you do it for him.
sunghoon: hoon is probably super into coming on your face if it's not inside of you. not only bc he thinks you look hot like that, but because it genuinely just feels so fucking good to him for everything to be wet and messy, especially in the way you indulge him and thumb the mess into your mouth, proving that you like it just as messy. same goes for when he's fucking you too. i think he'd be into body fluids, and want them all over the place. squirting? man, he would be in heaven, especially if you let him open his own mouth at it. also probably really into spitting in your mouth but thats just me.
jake: messy with it without intention because he's always been that way. I mean, bro probably half-drained of cum before he even puts it in you due to the sheer amount of fucking pre-cum he gives. the type to be a huge fan of squirting as well, almost always abusing the fuckkkk out of your g-spot just so he can get you as messy as he always is. also the type to want to be fucking drenched in you and himself by the time it's all done. one hundred percent would probably be into period sex too. not necessarily anything involving his mouth but man, being covered in anything you offer is something that would drive him insane. anything sticky, anything thick, anything that helps the slide, really.
least:
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actually-safer-to-kiss · 11 months
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grumpy!reader x sunshine!spencer
Ruffled Feathers
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Summary: Spencer wants to go grocery shopping early while Reader prefers sleeping in.
Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader
Category: Fluff
Content warnings: none
Word count: 1.1k
A/N: thank you for the request, love 🩵
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“Let’s get the grocery shopping done early,” Spencer said at seven in the morning. “That way we have the rest of the day to spend at my place if we want," he said. The word “early” has a completely different meaning to you than to your peppy, early-bird boyfriend.
While you believe early is 9 am and anything before that should be considered unnatural, Spencer is always up before the sun. It’s pretty common to wake up to sunlight forcing your eyes to open while Spencer is in the living room on his second cup of coffee and rereading Tolstoy or Dickens. He never minds you sleeping in. He’ll even offer to make your coffee if he sees you peeling the covers off.
He offered you a cup this morning, and God did you take every drop. You got halfway through the second cup before Spencer was already itching to leave. Something else Spencer enjoys a lot is grocery shopping, eager like a puppy ready for the park. Luckily he offered to drive while you nursed on your second cup, shielding it from any hazardous bumps on the way.
You could admit your frustration with Spencer not giving you the time to wake up before heading out, but your silence throughout the drive says plenty. He’s familiar with it. It’s the silence that comes with five hours of sleep. He understands this is not a time to dabble in the produce section or the dairy aisle. He also understood you were ready to leave before even getting started, as you didn’t even try to change out of your pajamas.
That is one of the best things about having a profiler as a boyfriend. All the subtle cues and behavior changes he picks up on, and if he knows you well enough, he acts accordingly. So when he puts the car in the park, you feel him watching you take that last satisfying gulp of sugary liquid. Caffeine courses through your blood as you shakily put your travel mug between you in the cup holder. You both don’t speak a word when Spencer hands you a folded-up sheet of paper. You unfold it and read his scribbles: milk, cheese, ice cream, peanut butter, celery, sliced apples.
You look at Spencer. “There’s not much on mine.” Your voice is still groggy, but you clear it to sound more awake. It doesn’t work.
“I can take care of the rest.” He tells you, holding up his half (⅔ technically). “You can meet me at the checkout and we’ll be ready to head home.”
You nodded, mostly at the end of that sentence. Because crawling back into bed after a brief productive period has never sounded so heavenly. You were literally dressed for the occasion and suddenly eager to grocery shop, knowing this list is brief and the store is small. You’ll be done in minutes.
Upon entering the store, you and Spencer grab your respective shopping carts and split up. Spencer takes his cart and kicks on, his left foot perched onto the cart as he glides forward like a ballerina turned rogue from her box. You, however, patrol up and down, finding items in various orders. The brands you’re used to were in plenty. You even grabbed an extra jar of peanut butter for your secret (sometimes inebriated) snacking purposes.
Remembering said snacking ventures, you recall your favorite candy bar. You also recall how you’ve been low on stock at your place for weeks since they’re only sold at Spencer’s local store. The candy aisle is feet away at this point, so the decision is obvious. You charge toward it, with the brand and packaging in mind. You scan the shelves up and down, prominent brands obvious with saturated wrappers and bold lettering. At the end of the aisle, though, you learn the hard way that the candy bars, your candy bars, are out of stock.
Granted, it’s not a big deal. But it’s also a very big deal.
You try to drown out the deep sound of your disappointment. It strikes your soul, yet you push on, toward the self-checkout area. Spencer is already there, scanning items, and waving you over as if you didn’t already see him. You use your caffeine-coated might to push the cart along, past the forming line.
You give Spencer your items, per his request for extra points on his value card. You also let him bag and place them in the cart. Spencer nods and smiles as he reviews each item. The beep of the scanner is almost perfect with his efficiency and the look of small joys on his face is nearly enough to drown out your slightly exaggerated despair. Caffeine can help you behave the opposite, even though exhaustion is soon to follow.
You look back to find your cart empty, the other filled with eight bags. You both head to the exit and then to the car, each carrying four bags. The sun begins to blaze and the early summer heats up your fuzzy pajamas. The car is mere feet away as sweat breaks. Spencer, of course, cannot relate. Because every time you look over from one end of the parking lot to the other, he has this smirk on his face that you can't quite read.
You open Spencer's car's back door and put your bags in first. After shaking your arms from the burn of the weighted plastic bags left behind, you reach for the passenger door. Spencer, on the other hand (literally, he’s still holding bags, risking spillage), reaches out for your wrist. With your fingers wrapped around the handle, you look at your boyfriend with questioning eyes. He gives you one of the bags, leaving its own imprint on his skin. He says, "Take it," his smirk grows.
One eyebrow pricks up with a look of suspicion. All questions in your mind fall under the What Did You Do? Category. You take it anyway, with both hands as you let go of the door handle. “Do I ask?”
“Look at the bottom.”
You do as told, continuing to stare as you send your hand on a spelunking mission for secrets you’re not sure what to feel about. The matte finish with raised lettering screams out something very special. Your fingers brush against the sharp corners of the foil layer in the middle, and you count three of them: candy bars. Your favorite candy bars. You look up at Spencer. And as your skepticism melts into a soft pout, Spencer does the same. Is he mocking you? Yes. Does it soon morph into genuine pride at being the best boyfriend ever? Also yes.
And after your expression melts, your arms do too as they fall limp around Spencer’s waist. You hug him tight while burying your face in his chest.
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rainba · 2 months
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Sweet Bunny Dreams (Yandere OC Luka x Bunny Hybrid! GN! Reader)
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AN: This wasn't the original fic I had planned for Luka, but like... The Kairos stuff with the scarification + wet dream stuff, I got REALLY inspired to write this! Hope you all enjoy :3c
i specialize in men fantasizing stuff lol ⸜( *ˊᵕˋ* )⸝
TWs/Tags: NSFW 18+, cannibalism at the end, noncon/dubcon, predator/prey dynamic, slight degradation
MINORS DNI.
Word count: 925
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It keeps happening.
Every night, he has the same exact dream: he’s chasing you through a dark forest, the trees twisting up into the sky and reaching impossible heights. His heart is always throbbing, the bottom of his feet are on fire, and adrenaline is pumping through his veins. His eyes are locked in on one thing, and one thing alone: you, his precious bunny darling.
In his dreams, you always look so horrified. There’s already marks on your body– perhaps some scratch marks on your arms, tears on your thighs, or bruises on your shoulders. In some of his dreams, you’re completely nude. In others, you have hardly anything on, as the rest of your clothes have been already torn to shreds. And in his dreams, there’s already blood stains on Luka’s hands.
And the blood smells so good. 
And it also tastes so, so good.
He always needs more of it. It drives him up the wall.
It doesn’t matter how fast you run, he’ll always catch you in the end. Tackling you from behind, forcing your face into the cold dirt, yanking your wrists behind your back as you scream and beg for him to let you go.
“P-please, mister fox..! I haven’t done anything to you! Please, just let me go!”
God, those words send electricity through his body. His head starts to spin by the time he reaches this part of the dream, and he figures that he’s getting dizzy because all of the blood in his head is going straight to his dick. The way you squirm and whine beneath him makes him so fucking horny.
He gets even rougher with you, growling into your sensitive bunny ears. “Maybe you shouldn’t have tempted me,” he spits out as he lifts your ass into the air and shoves your face even harder into the dirt. You scream even louder, but it only makes him laugh. Nobody can hear you. Nobody can save you.
“Keep screaming like that… I love it.”
He digs his sharp nails into your skin and yanks your hair, enjoying the way you squirm and squeal. In this part of the dream, he always rushes to unzip his black pants and pull them half-way down his thighs, then he rushes to pull his cock out of his briefs. 
“N-no, don’t put it in! Please! It’s too big!” Your words fuel his fire, a smirk grows on his face.
“If you want me to stop, make me.”
And in that moment, he shoves his entire length inside of you, not stopping until you reach the base of it. Your hole is so fucking tight, it takes his breath away. 
In this part of his dream, you moan like crazy– secretely enjoying the way he’s abusing you.
“Good little bunny,” he grits his teeth and huffs. His cock feels so good inside of you– so good that it’s borderline addicting. In his dream, he thrusts into you at ungodly speeds, the heated sounds of sex echoing through the trees. Your constant “no”s gradually turn into “please don’t stop!”
Luka then removes his hand from your hair and grabs both of your ears, pushing them together and tugging at them. “You bunnies… Your reputation for being whores, always fucking anyone that so much as looks at you… Breeding like there’s no tomorrow.” He leans down and licks your neck. “It’s your instincts– your reason for living.” He gives your ears one last jerk before moving his hands to your stomach, rubbing circles over it. He snarls, “your only purpose is to take my cock.”
Pleasure shoots through his body when he utters those words– and your body happily pushes back against him.
“You should thank me for helping you serve your purpose.”
Then in his dream, he does the impossible: he fucks you even harder, even faster. 
“Thank you, thankyouthankyouthankyou!” You spew and sputter. And as you thank him, you convulse around his length, moaning with your tongue sticking out and your eyes rolled back. It’s so delicious, so very delicious– it makes him cum on the spot. He forcefully holds you in place, making sure not a single drop is spilled, and then his animalistic instincts kick into overdrive.
He then leans over you, his jaw opened wide, and he laughs without remorse.
But his last words are never the same. 
In one previous dream, he growled, “you should’ve ran when you had the chance.”
In another one, he said: “I’ll make sure you never take anyone else’s cock ever again.”
But this time, his words are unusually soft.
“I love you.”
However, after that, everything always ends the same. He wraps his hands around your throat, his legs straddle your hips, and he forces you to stay still. He bears his fangs and buries them deep into your neck, chomping down, and ripping out a large chunk. The taste is unbelievably mouth-watering. He eats and he eats until there’s nothing left.
…And when he awakes from his dream, Luka finds himself panting and sweating, cum dripping down his thighs. It’s embarrassing, it’s infuriating. The shame he feels as he walks to the bathroom every morning is intense.
It always takes him a long time to recover from the fantasy.
Luka looks at a photo of you– a photo of you smiling so innocently. It soothes him– it brings him back down to earth. He couldn’t possibly bring himself to actually ruin you. No, he doesn’t want that at all… He would never do that to you…
…Right?
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obsessedduh · 7 days
Text
genre: smutty with a plotty.
cw: implied fem reader and sub simon. reader is a bit mean dumification, sexism (reader mocks simon for being a man and being 'weak') masochism (simon), sadism (reader), simon is a crybaby. loads of f-bombs. bit of a long one and may be loads of spelling mistakes, but bare with me, y'all 😭🙏🏾
side note: i'm such a shit writer that it makes me want to cry. ughhh, like i've some people smuts, and i'm so jealous, like, i'm so shit at writing it burns 😭😭
MDNI – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
*✧・゚: *✧・゚
dorky!gamerboy!simon with a slutty, popular, mean roommate.
he finds her so annoying, walking around in your dorm with those stupidly tight booty shorts that show the bottom half of your ass and those annoyingly tight tank tops that you wear that has your nipples poking through the fabric of them.
it's so aggravating because you get him hard in the matter of seconds and then you make him stumble of his words or make him blush like a fucking idiot.
and ohhh, don't even get him started when you bring guys over. it's so fucking irritating trying to study or play video games with a boner and having to listen to you stupid pornagraphic moans, it's so fucking distracting!
and on top of that, when he finishes studying and thinks he can finally go to bed in peace. wrong. the familiar buzzing noise he hears through the thin walls, and your moans are enough to make him go insane. he thinks his poor cock is on its last leg because of how many times he's had to jerk off.
he bets you're doing it on purpose at this point! trying to get him all riled up. trying to drive him nuts! i mean, what other reason is there?
also, your attitude is so bad. he could be telling you to do something, and you're already telling him to piss off. then it leads to an argument and blah blah blah.
you're honestly so fucking bitchy and it gets on his nerves.
today was no different! he was playing video games as per usual until you bursted into his room. you obviously startled him but he doesn't pay attention to you. just taking off his headset and letting it rest around his neck and still continuing to play his game, "don't you know how to fucking knock!?"
"whatever. get off your stupid game, it's your turn to do the dishes."
he groans and shifts around in his chair, so it spins to look at you, "i did them yester-..." as soon as he manages to look at you straight away, his eyes widen. you're stading in his doorway wearing a red lacey bra and a matching lacey red thong.
what kind of woman does this!? standing in front of her guy roommate, half-naked!? his eyes trace all over your body, your figure, and he can't help the blood rushing down south. he gulps and shifts his hands to block the serious boner he was having right now.
"why the fuck are you staring at me like that?"
"n-nothing..."
"whatever, you gonna wash the dishes or what?"
"s-sure... j-just give me a m-moment."
"aight cool. just hurry the fuck up, dork."
you leave him be and close the door and as soon as he hears the door click. his hands are already pulling down his sweatpants and fisting his aching hard cock, moving his hand up and down at an uneven pace, so desperate to cum. your name falling out his lips and filthy images of you clouded his mind.
meanwhile you were getting annoyed because he was taking way to long. you opened the door, "why the fu-..."
your eyes shoot open. he clearly didn't hear the door open or your voice. you grin as you watch him toy with himself, moaning your name. gosh, you never knew a man's moans could be so... addicting. you could already feel heat building in your core.
you watch simon fist his cock a couple more times before his cum drenches his hand and the chair under him. you grin and decide this is the time to speak up, "you enjoy yourself?"
simon felt his heart drop and he turned to look at you. his soft cock now going hard again by the sight of you. he let out a fit of sorry's and of course the dumbest like any man could say, 'it isn't what it looks like'.
"cut the bullshit, simon. you were jerking off, moaning my name. the fuck is it meant to look like?"
he looked away in shame and embarrassment. "and you know what makes it worse?"
he looks up at you, noticing the digested expression on your face. "your cock is getting hard again. you fucking pervert."
"i-i'm s-sor-... a-ah!!"
his eyes widened when your hand wraps around his cock. he let's out a groan when you pull the uncut foreskin down to see his angry leaking tip. "fucking disgusting. you're getting off by this!?"
blood rushes to simon's face and he let's out a croaky moan when your thumb traces across his tip, collecting his pre-cum. you slip your thumb into your mouth, the salty flavour lingering on your tongue. he watched you carefully, his breathy unsteady and his cock twitched a bit. "you're such a fucking pervert. you enjoying this, letting your roommate, your bully, play with your cock like this?"
he avoids your gaze causing you to dig your pretty, manicured nails into thigh, "answer me simon."
he lets out a pained groan and nods, "y-yes.."
you move hand to wrap his cock again and you begin jerking off his cock, his previous orgasm presenting as lube to help you guide your hand up and down his length. you watch as his head rolls back onto the of his gaming chair and his face contort into pleasure. you kiss your lips against his tip and he tenses up.
you grin, and you slip the head of his cock into your mouth and swirl your tongue around it and watch as simon's eyes close from the pleasure. you tongue teases the slit of his cock, taking pleasure in the salty taste of his pre-cum.
he groans and starts blabbering about how he's gonna cum. he opens his eyes to see your pretty half lidded eyes looking up at him through your lashes. you slip your mouth off his tip and pump his cock a lot quicker, hoping for more of his creamy white. instead you were met with loud groans and tiny droplets of cum. you look up at him again to see how breathy he was and you immediately start bursting out laughing.
"fuck me! you're so out of breathe and you only gave me, what, two, three fucking drops of cum? how embarrassing."
your laughter was humiliating enough, but now a whole sentence about it? he felt the heat rush up to his face in embarrassment, but what was then embarrassment was now lust.
he whines and watches as your tongue swirl around his tip again. tears building up his eyes from the sensitivity, and you slowly start taking him deeper into your mouth, and that's when waterworks come out. he wasn't fully crying, just a couple of tears from the painful pleasure, that's all.
you hear sniffles and sobs and you look up to see simon crying and you never felt so turned on in your life. how fucking cute. you take your mouth off of his cock and you give him the most smug grin ever. "are you fucking serious?! you're crying? oh my fucking god."
a full-blown laugh erupts from your lips. not again. he watches you slowly call down and stop laughing, and he notices something different about your expression. sure, lust was still there, but there was a tint of sadism there now. fuck. are you getting turned on by this!?
he doesn't even get the chance to say or think about it before you're already deepthroating him. he let's out a loud groan, tears leaking out of his eyes now. he can't help it, it feels so painfully good and the pleasures to much. you nose was nuzzled against his pubes and bop your head up and down and you are delighted to hear his pornagraphic moans and groabs and again as he cums. you were delivered with the same tiny droplets of cum.
you take your mouth off of his cock again, "fuck. the same orgasm from before how pathetic."
he couldn't even pay attention, too, out of this world to say or do anything. he was taking deep breaths, trying to calm himself down but he let out a strained and choked moan to feel your wetness engulfing his cock. his eyes open and he looks down to see your pretty lacey red panties pushed to the side. he watches as your wet cunt slips his onto his cock with greed.
he groans at the feeling and he can't help the tears anymore. he doesn't care, he gives up, letting himself cry. his tears blur up his vision and he focuses on the feeling of your gorgeous warmth sucking his cock in until it was kissing your cervix. you slowly start bouncing on his cock and he's gone at this point.
eyes rolled to the back of his head and his head again resting against the head of his chair again. the chair creaks as you ride him. your moans being music to his ears. you place kisses all over his neck, smothering it in love bites and hickeys.
you feel his hands wrap around your waist, and you watch the state he's in. messy hair, eyes rolled to the back of his head, hickeys all over his neck. it's so fucking cute. "you're so fucking weak, what kind of man are you? a weak one at that. you're such a fucking crybaby."
you feel his cock twitch slightly at your words and you mouth shifts into a sadistic smirk, "you like that, getting called weak? a crybaby? a fucking man whore?"
you feel his cock twitch again, "f-fuck... you do... a-ah~... you do like that."
you feel your orgasm approaching and you pick up the speed. soon enough, you both have each other screaming each other's names. you squirting and simon finally delivering you that delicious creamy white you were so desperate for. you slowly slip off of his cock, your mixed orgasm now leaking onto the chair them the floor.
at this point, simon was so drained. his cock slowly going limp. his eyes start going droopy, tired from you two's sessions. his eyes closed and all his can remember is your soft lips against his then you saying,
"goodnight simon."
*✧・゚: *✧・*
extra side note: may or may not have gotten carried away 😔. um, please tell me if this was good because i feel as if i waffled way to hard😰 and that it's shit. i know it's probably gonna get barely any like as most of my post now but whatever. at least i tried 😛😛 also took me 2-3 fucking hours to do and it may not look like it but oh well, yolo. 😽
wanna know more about me —> here
masterlist —> here
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sea-lanterns · 1 year
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(warning: quite long) Hi ! I saw that you read thirsts so here's a little modern(?) electro-women hc I feralized in my head:
They make you ride them whilst you apply their makeup. (strap or girl deek idc idc)
Her thrusts become harder on purpose once you start getting the hang of her previously consistent pace — her face has been serving as your stability so her sudden pace change made you accidentally smear the lipstick you attempted to apply. You apologize and she doesn't mind — you've been working so hard, so obedient and adorable from how your brows knit and scrunch, your fingers trembling to hold the brush, from how you bite your inner cheek or lip to stop whimpering, and from the way you were desperate and reeling for her promised reward. (It's not like she needed make-up, her face was already perfect in your mind's eye, fitting for Celestia's favorites that obviously included her.)
She sends a pulse of electricity through you and you yelp, smearing more of the lipstick you've been trying to properly re-apply. She laughs as you fall on her shoulder but she's had enough now. She needs to ruin you properly if she wants to make you as pretty as you made her.
Whether it be her fingers or c*ck — she always makes sure to abuse that one spot that makes your legs useless. Every thrust she makes, the higher you were able to see, high enough that half your vision was her and the dark. She sends pulses of electricity inside you, her large hands — met so easily around your hips just at the outside of your uterus— shock you as well, pulses inconsistent but enough for you to shake and null some neurons. Your clit can't escape, not when she fondles and pinches it between her fingers in her unholy curiosity about how much you'll take for her.
Just how many times could you come undone? Will you remember if she asks you to keep count? You've been saying the same number now — "7" when it's already been 12. Her baby is so cute, so adorably dumb that your words were only incoherent babbles. Her pretty girl can take one more, she can give her 5 more probably — mhm, you're so good to her and she hopes you hold her in that same regard.
My depravity has led me to lows I no longer could measure. I now wonder what is beyond the 9th layer of Gehenna. (did not proofread)
i actually have really bad thirst for anything related to cockwarming or sex while doing something else, so this particular thirst made me drool…
also, electro women you say? ooh, this is gonna be a spicy one (//▽//)
nsfw under the cut—————————
riding them while doing their makeup hmmm…
miko, lisa, keqing and ei would like it if you smothered your cunt all over their fingers. they love the feeling of you fluttering under their touch, their fingers sunken deep inside you as you stutter and try to do their eyeliner. the way you gasp and squirm on top of them makes them really want to devour you, so much so that they have to resist the urge to put you on their face, eating you out while your dripping precum ruins the makeup you tried so hard to apply…
beidou, sara and shinobu are the strap girls. they’d prefer having both hands on your hips as you groan and cockwarm the silicone dicks they picked out just for you. the way you resist the urge to bounce as to not ruin their lipstick is what drives them mad, resisting the urge to just thrust upwards and leave you smearing their lipstick all over, too shaky and overstimulated with their cocks hitting so deep inside you.
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starrgod-jpg · 1 year
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Hello can I request a Demon Slayer Fanfic, please.
I would like a Hotaru Haganezuka x Wife demon slayer reader. Like her coming home after being on a mission for months with cuts and bruises on her. I just want some married couple fluff.
Thank you for your time and don't forget to drink water. ❤
OMG I DIDN'T THINK ID GET A REQUEST SO SOON??? Firstly,TJANK YOU!!!! Second, i really really hope i did good on this and I hope you enjoy it🙏🏾 lastly, I haven't written in so long so feedback/criticism is greatly appreciated ‼️
Also I am SO sorry if it's too short!!!
Warnings: mentions of open wounds and bruising (?)
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"Taru! I'm bac-" You were abruptly cut off by a hug that slammed you into the door. "oh god I've missed you so much..." your husband spoke softly. As you moved to hug him back he squeezed a bit tighter. A light hiss was let out and he reacted immediately by letting go to look at you. "Are you hurt?? Let me wrap your wounds, come on!" He didn't give you a chance to speak before you were being dragged towards your shared bathroom. With a small chuckle you told him you fine. "I'm a demon slayer, of course I got hurt!" he continued dragging you through the hall as you peeked into his welding room. There was a half made sword on the welding table and it made your heart melt a bit. Hotaru was never one to break concentration from a sword, no matter what.
Once the two of you reached your room, he sat you down and told you to take off your shirt. He ran too the bathroom and came back with a bucket of warm water, a washcloth, ointment and bandages. He slowly took off your old bandages and began cleaning your fresher wounds first. "So.." you start off. He hummed a response while focusing on your wounds. "I saw the sword that you were making, whose it for?" You asked. He sighed and you feel the annoyance radiating from him. "That Tanjiro kid, he broke another one my swords!! can you believe it?!" He exclaimed as he dipped the washcloth in the water. "I can actually, that kid is amazing.. he'll be a higher rank than me in no time at the pace he's going." You said with a smile, you loved how passionate he is about his swords. "Yea but how do you break two swords already!? It's like he's doing it on purpose or something!" He exclaims again with huff. He begins wrapped your open wounds and applying ointment to your bruises. "I highly doubt that." You say last before the two of you lie down and just it in silence. It was a nice silence, a good and warm silence that made you feel at peace. "I brought you more wind chimes for your hat.." you whisper. "I'll attach them later, i wanna spend as much time as possible with you right now.." he half whispers back. You giggle and take his face into your hands. He raises one of eyebrows and you just smile. It's a big toothy smile that just makes him feel warm. "I love you so much Taro.." you whisper to him. He smiles back and pulls you closer. "I love you too much y/n, you drive me insane sometimes.." he half whispers with a chuckle. "The feeling is very mutual.."
The two of you laid in the bed talking about what happened while the two of you were apart until you both drifted off to sleep.
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