#AND: I thought of you in the end I saw your face in the water

[watchmegetobsessed]

TOO SWEET

A/N: i know originally i teased something else with the hozier song, but this came to me when i saw the pics below and i just had to write them. also, i put the bruises on him so go easy on my photoshop skills lol

WORD COUNT: 1.5k

WARNING: mention of blood and bruises

SUMMARY: You and Harry are worlds apart, yet you can't let go of each other, not even when he stumbles into your home in the middle of the night, bruised and in pain.

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You wake to the sound of the front door closing and by the time his footsteps reach the bathroom down the hall you’re fully conscious. There was a time when you considered yourself a heavy sleeper, when the smallest noises could not bother you enough to wake from your dreams, but those days have been gone ever since Harry came into your life. 

You kind of knew what you were getting yourself into, his reputation and horrific stories about his dark deals were more than well-known around town and there was a time you never thought you’d get involved with him. You’re worlds apart, he is the fire that will burn you if you get too close, but it appears you’re the water that could take his danger out. Just one party, one glance across the room was enough to bound you two together and turn your life upside down. 

Surprisingly, you weren’t the only one fighting against the pull. In the beginning, Harry tried to keep him away from you just as much as you attempted to convince yourself he is nothing but trouble. You still remember what he told you one night when you met him at a dodgy bar against your better judgment. 

“I take my whiskey neat, my coffee black and my bed at three. You’re way too sweet for me, baby.”

It felt like he wasn’t even talking to you but to himself. His light green eyes were darker than ever as he stared down at your lips and you couldn’t figure out what you wanted more, to kiss him or to leave him. Even though what he said sounded a lot like a promise that he’ll step back, somehow you just ended up even closer. 

Life with Harry is like a rollercoaster that takes you through Hell and Heaven at the same time. When it’s good, it’s a high you’ve never experienced before, he is everything you want and could ever need, he fills your heart and eases your mind like no one can and you know he is the piece you’ve been searching for all your life.

But when it’s low… the darkness feels like a weight you can barely carry and it’s hard to remember what it was like when you were blossoming. 

You never asked Harry to stop his underworld deals, you know it’s practically impossible, but it’s also hard to live like this. Fearing every call you get, fighting intrusive thoughts about what might have happened to him every time he doesn’t answer your messages and then there are the nights like this, when he visits you in the middle of the night but it’s always for the wrong reason. 

The first time Harry appeared at your door at two am, blood running down his face, barely holding himself up, you got so worried he had to calm you even though he was the one with the injuries, but you just couldn’t stop crying and sobbing. 

Now you still get yourself worked up but you learned to keep your face straight as you clean his wounds or even stitch them, but it’s still just as much of a struggle emotionally to see the man you love like this all the time. 

You sit up in your bed as you hear him grunt before closing the bathroom door as quietly as he can and then the water starts running. Reaching for your phone on the nightstand you check the time, it’s just a little past three in the morning, the dim light of the streetlamps are the only source of light in your tiny bedroom, but even despite the darkness, it still feels bright and homey, you spent a lot of time to create this bubble for yourself and though Harry’s gruff and edgy presence feels the farthest from your colorful life, he still somehow belongs here, in your life.

Rubbing your eyes you stand up and look for the cardigan you know you left on the chair in the corner. When you find it you wrap yourself into it tight and take a moment to mentally prepare yourself for whatever you’ll see. From what you heard, he wasn’t limping so that’s a good start, but you still know there’s a whole lot that could be terrifyingly wrong with him to make him come to you instead of his place.

The water has stopped running by the time you make your way out of the bedroom and over to the bathroom. Light is flowing out underneath the door and you don’t know before simply twisting the knob and opening the door, revealing Harry sitting in the bathtub, bent forward, his curls wet and brushed back, bruises covering his shoulders, back and jawline, his bottom lip busted open.

Repentance fills his glimmering eyes when he looks at you and you know what he would say if his pride allowed him to speak.

“I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry. I want to be better for you, but it’s so hard.”

Walking over you kneel down next to the tub and cup his face with your palm, gentle and soft, not to hurt him and he melts into your touch in an instant. 

“I’m alright,” he rasps as you run your hand down his naked chest, over some of the bruises and you notice how he winces when your cold hand touches a vigorously dark mark on his collarbone. 

You’d do anything to free him from this dark world that keeps him as its prisoner, but ironically you know what kind of consequences one would have to endure to be set free and you fear those would take him from you forever. So every time you see the marks of this evil life on him, a piece of you dies. For him. 

“I’ll get you some pills,” you whisper and try to get up, but his hand grabs your arm, holding you back.

“Just… stay with me, please.” It’s a desperate plea you could never ignore, so you settle back onto the fuzzy rug next to the tub, one arm against his chest as he hugs it like a child, your thumb gently rubbing the side of his neck. But you don’t stay like that much longer. The urge to get closer to him grows unbearable, so you move to stand again and when you see the panic in his eyes you’re quick to calm him.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Hesitantly, but he lets go of your arm and watches you as you undress yourself and join him in the tub, sitting behind him so you can hug him from behind, your chest melting against his back as your heartbeats sync. 

His head falls back onto your shoulder while your lips pepper kisses onto his every once in a while, your hands gently running up and down his front, eager to feel the softness of his skin. 

“You’re way too sweet for me,” he breathes out.

“Haven’t we been over this?” you ask with a soft smile. He lifts his head and then turns it so he can look at you. 

“I feel like I’m ruining you.”

“Don’t act like it’s all on you. I made a decision too and I chose to be with you.”

“You made a mistake,” he whispers and you see something dark, something desperate take over his face for a moment, but you’re quick to bring him back to you, like you always do.

Soothing his hair back, you pull him closer so your lips meet for the softest kiss. 

“You could never be a mistake,” you whisper against his lips and you feel him inhale sharply before he kisses you, harder and needier and you’re happy to give him whatever he demands from you. 

You stay in the tub until the water gets too cold. Then you grab him a shirt and a pair of underwear he left at yours a while ago and you move to the bedroom. He finally lets you get him some painkillers and you tell him to get in bed when he tries to randomly fix the jammed drawer of your desk. He loves to play the handyman when he’s over, but now is definitely not the time for that.

“Okay, doctor, gotcha,” he chuckles cheekily as he shuffles over to the bed. He watches you with a smirk as you’re moving around, grabbing another blanket before joining him in bed.

“What?” you ask when he just keeps looking at you smugly.

“You take so good care of me, baby. You know, there is one more thing I think I need to feel better.”

Reaching over he hooks a finger into the front of your shirt, tugging it down teasingly. 

“Oh, really?” you arch an eyebrow at him.

“Absolutely.”

Instead of a reply, you move closer and press two fingers into a bruise on his shoulder just enough to make him wince and flinch back from the pain.

“I think you need to stay away from physical activities, that’s the doctor’s order,” you scoff.

“Fuck, there was nothing sweet about that, damn!” he grunts, making you laugh. 

“But you love it when I put you into your place, don’t you?” Grinning you scoot closer, his arm curling around you instantly.

“I do. Only you can do that,” he smiles down at you.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles blurb

[flem17ng]

It’s a date.

UCLA! jessie fleming x reader

summary: reader starts her first semester at UCLA and meets bruins midfielder, jessie fleming.

content: fluff, short one-shot. author has no knowledge of the American education system.

The first day of university was always going to be hard. New people, new campus, new lecturers and new classes all together. Maybe it was the fact you’d never been this far from home before that made it worse. 

UCLA was your dream school. Quite literally. You remeber looking at the university website back when you where in middle school and imagining yourself there: kicking a ball in the oval, studying in a library, laps in the big pools. the feeling of actually being here was… overwhelming. 

Like all eighteen year olds do, you had launched yourself into this thing head first: packed bags, kissed your dog goodbye and hopped on the plane. And like most eighteen year olds , you where now struck with the intensity of your actions. 

Here you where, miles from home, no connections in the state, standing outside the lecture theatre for your first class. So yes, overwhelming would be the word of choice. 

You looked down at your timetable for what seemed to be the hundredth time in the last minute, checking and triple checking that you had got the room right. 

“Environmental Studies: Spheres 101”. The name of the course seemed to taunt you at you stared at it blankly. 

Leave it to you to go to one of the most prestigious sports schools in the world, (doing very minimal sport yourself) and end up doing a course all about what? Water, earth, wind and fire?

You knew it was more important than that of course. You picked environmental engineering for a reason: because you cared about that sort of stuff! 

You took a long breath readying to walk in when-

“Oh shit I am so sorry! God I was not looking where I was going!” The thump in your shoulder didn’t knock you quite as off balance as the thick Canadian accent. You froze for a moment, not knowing whether to be pissed at this stranger’s clumsiness or charmed but the voice that reminded you of home. Your eyes flashed up to meet the source of the voice and decided to be charmed. 

Her eyes where the first thing you noticed: large and brown and…. well charming you suposed. Every other part of the girls face fell neatly into place behind those eyes: perfect, warm and adorned with a lopsided and slightly guilty smile. 

It was then that you realised you hadn’t responded. 

“Oh no don’t worry. I was distracted myself” you rushed out, words melding into a lump as they rushed to get passed your lips. It was worth it as you watched the girls guilt melt away into an easier grin. 

“Another Canadian! I thought I was going to be alone here you know” she laughed “I don’t think I would have survived”. 

You nod eagerly, feeling the other girls  relief. “God same! I’m already off kilter over here”

“Eh. we’ll muddle through” she grinned back giving an animated wink before looking back at the door you where still loitering before. 

“Might need to…” she trailed off at motioned with her chin to the door. 

“Right right yes! I don’t want to be late to learn about the spheres of the environment” you drawled sarcastically. The girl rolled her eyes in agreement. 

“Right!? when I saw that on my timetable I couldn’t believe it! I swear I learned this in 9th grade”. 

“American’s eh?” you tut with a playful smile. God you hoped none of the resident americans would over hear you. 

The girl (you realised you didn’t yet know her name) laughed loudly, her teeth flashing handsomely (Looking at her you realised that “handsome” was a pretty accurate diagnosis: broad shoulders, a freakishly athletic build, sharp jawline. Yes, handsome was the word). Together you walked forward into the lecture hall, thankfully not late before parting ways: her going to sit next to a few other athletic looking girls with tight ponytails, and you going to sit near the front (curse your poor eyesight). 

~

To be brutally honest, after that little interaction, you almost completely forgot about the handsome canadian girl with charming eyes from your environmental engineering course. Almost. You saw her about a few times: in the distance on the playing field, walking around campus. But you hadn’t really talked to her since that first class at the beginning of semester. Everytime you got into class she was already there, sitting next to the Bruins girls, pen in hand, with deadly focus. 

You reasoned that it would be impolite to interrupt her, it would be nosy to try join her little group and it would be downright stalkerish to try track her down across campus. 

Not to mention the university work that was flooding in… it was not stopping for anything, that’s for sure, definitely not your strange hang up over a girl you had one interaction with. 

Your reasoning for this preoccupation was simply that you missed home: Canada seemed so far away especially as the weather only got warmer. This girl was simply a reminder that the faraway moose land was real! Additionally, maybe your brain got confused: a kind interaction plus the familiar Canadian accent equals weird unreasonable attachment. 

You shook your head and tried to refocus your eyes in the screen in front of you. You had been staring at the blank document you so long that your head had started to ache and the hot chocolate you bought before you sat down was now definitely cold. The cafe was one of those tiny ones with maybe three indoor tables and a booming espresso machine that took up most of the counter space by the cash register and drowned out the soft music echoing from the speakers. 

You had found it during the second week of semester and now frequented it most afternoons to try and crank out as many assignments as possible. Routine was important, you must understand that. 

You squeezed your eyes shut and rubbed your temple before being rudely startled by a tap of the shoulder. 

“Jeezus! give a girl some warning please!” you snapped before looking up at the offender. Brown eyes stared back at you filled with an amused glint. 

“We gotta stop meeting like this” she laughed. The same laugh that showed off her handsome features and warm glow. 

“Oh hey! It’s um… you!” it wasn’t meant to sound like a stutter but it came out that way anyways. 

“Jessie” she smiled softly, catching your fumble “Jessie Fleming? We have some lectures together?” 

“Yes no! I remember sorry. I just didn’t catch your name” you rambled, feeling suddenly very foolish. She patted your shoulder to pull you out of the spiral. 

“I know. I’m just messing” she sat down in the seat opposite you with a sigh. 

It was then that you really looked at her. She looked very much the same as she had the first time apart from a few key things: her hair was shorter (sitting just above her shoulders whereas before it had hung in a long plat down her back) and her left eye seemed strangely swollen and purple. 

“Um… get into a fight Fleming?” you asked, indicating to her, now obvious, black eye. To your surprise she laughed!

“Oh this old thing! No just a bad tackle during soccer practice” she grinned, poking the swollen lid with a dramatic wince. 

“Soccer… OH! Oh it makes sense now” you lean back in your chair and look at her like you had only just noticed her properly. 

“Fleming! 21! bruins midfielder! God I never made the connection!” you laughed, feeling stupid. Maybe if you had payed more attention to the sport at your SPORT university, you would have found out her name sooner. 

“Oh hush. It’s really nothing” she muttered looking embarrassed. 

“No, shut up Fleming. No it isn’t! I heard a girl in the library talking about your goal in a match a few weeks ago! Boy I know jack shit about sport but I know it was impressive” you hissed back eagerly. 

“No really-“

“Take the damn compliment Jessie”

“Fine! Thank you” she smiled awkwardly with a role of her eyes “It was a pretty good goal I guess”

You smiled and watched her for a long moment as she settled into the seat fully. Your eyes followed her perfect nose, flickered up to her eyebrows before coming to rest at her lips. How could someone look that good so effortlessly?

“Staring is rude” she stated bluntly, as her lips curled into a smirk. You looked away with a jerk, cheeks flaming. 

“I- I was not!”

“Okay…”

“I wasn’t staring! You soccer types, always so big headed!” you mumble, crossing your arms across your chest. You felt childish: of course you had been staring! God how silly that this girl, Jessie, thought you could hold back from staring at her! You’re only human after all. 

“I-“ Jessie started to speak but cut herself off, her mouth hanging open slightly. 

“Yes?”

“I might be out of play for a few weeks. Concussion protocols and all that but… well stop me if this is too forward but, I’d love for you to come to a game? One of my games I mean” her question ended in a rush before she leaned back from the table with big curious eyes. You stared back, dumbfounded. It took a shake of your head to get you to respond. 

“You want me to come to a bruins game?”

“Uhh. Yes?”

“You know I don’t know anything about soccer?”

“I did assume that, yes.”

“But you want me there?”

“Yes.” her tone was soft but firm, determined. “I want you to come to a game please. To watch me play? Or we can watch it together if I’m still out for injury?”

You laugh and clap a hand over your mouth. 

“Are you asking me on a date Jessie Fleming?” you spit out, feeling suddenly emboldened by the other girls flustered expression. Jessie’s cheeks only became redder at your sudden inquiry. 

“Yes please?” came her hopeful squeak. 

You grinned and leaned over the table, placing a soft kiss on her cheek, just under her bruised eye, before sitting back in one swift movement. 

“Ok. But you’re going to have to let me wear your jersey 21. Oh, and explain the offside rule.”

Jessie groaned, but her pink cheeks gave her away. 

“Fine. It’s a date.” 

#jessie fleming #jessie fleming x reader #woso x reader #ucla jessie fleming

[lis-likes-fics]

Your Delusion

Pairing: dark!Dream of the Endless x Reader Word Count: 4.8k words Warnings: NSFW, dubcon, somnophilia, fingering, oral (f!receiving), multiple orgasms, forced(?) breeding, swearing... A/N: This was to get me out of Writer's Block. Kind of worked? Dream is a bit (ridiculously) delulu in here. He's doing some mental gymnastics in here, and I applaud him cause same. Anyway, enjoy this strange, strange man.

You look so beautiful like this.

Wrapped in your sheets with your eyes so delicately closed, lips so delicately parted, breaths so delicately passed, you look like a dream. My dream.

And you shall always be mine.

No matter what you may believe.

Your rejection was a white hot burn in my chest, a clawing in my throat. The searing courses through my veins, but I know that I cannot blame you for what you had said. You meant only the best, you meant only not to worry me.

But you shouldn't need to worry. Not about such things.

When I saw you in that field, my field—Fiddler’s Green—I knew then and there that I could await our union no longer. I had to have you, I had to keep you.

You turned when you felt me near, and your eyes filled with confusion for just a moment before the recognition of my presence replaced it. You always knew it was me in the end. No matter how many dreams you dreamt.

“Dream lord,” you greeted me, with a smile so soft and true. Oh, how I love your smile.

I took slow steps across the green grasses beneath me, slowly approaching. “It has been a while since you have come here.”

I usually find you with the brothers of the First Story, or perhaps with Lucienne in the library. Other days, you would wander through other fields or amongst the waters of the Golden Rivers. But not then.

Then, you stood in the flowers of Fiddler’s Green. The very place we first met.

“How are you?” I wondered.

You glanced away. It was a shy little gesture, and a quick one at that. In no time, your eyes were back to me and it meant the world. “Better now,” you mumbled, placing your hand against a tree. “I almost forgot how beautiful this place was.”

Though I would usually acknowledge your words, I cannot help but to stare. “I have missed you.” I cannot always find time to see you with all the work I find myself caught in, but when I do, you never disappoint. It had been a couple of nights since last we saw one another, but it was a couple of nights too long.

“I missed you, too.” You said it as though you truly meant it, and that was all I needed. “How have you been doing?”

“Thinking.” I moved closer. There was still too much distance between us.

You tilted your head gently. “About?”

“Many things,” I shrugged. “But mostly you.”

You seemed almost taken aback by what I said, but you remain as kind as ever. “Me?” you chuckled—a bashful thing, really.

My eyes never left you. You're so beautiful, I mustn't ever look away. Perhaps I may lose you if I do…

“I can't keep you from my mind.” I watched as your smile faltered and your face shifted. “Every moment, I think of you.”

You tried to take a step back, but I grabbed your hands and held them within mine. I let the words spill, and I confessed what I had been holding in all this time. “You come and you go from my realm as you please. You smile and laugh as though any being could resist falling for the very thought of you. I look at you, and I know that what I feel is true.”

You looked away from me, down at our hands joined so firmly in one another. You close your eyes shut, and you squeeze them tight. “Dream, I don't think I understand.”

Then I would help you understand. You needed to know how much I need you, how much I crave you.

“I long for you,” I confessed. “Your beauty, your touch, your heart… And I can't keep from you any longer, my dear.”

I stepped even closer, the distance nearly squashed as I set my forehead against your own. “Dream,” your voice seemed so far away, so uncertain. But you mustn't feel that way.

“Be mine,” the desperation began to become clearer in my voice. “Join me as my wife and queen.” My thumb brushed the finger where your wedding ring would be placed. I would almost feel it now… “I shall protect you with my life and love you with all that I am–”

“No.”

The icy chill of your disagreement, the stern tone of your voice, it created a sour taste on my tongue that I deeply resented.

I did not break away from you, though my grip on your hands may have tightened a bit more than they should have. “What?” My voice is low, upset and full of disbelief. You pulled your hands from mine, and I knew that I had to let you or else I may have hurt you.

“Dream…” you sighed heavily, like it pained you. “I can't.”

My eyes fixed on you, and I thought you could see the sudden darkness in them. Perhaps you did, but it wasn't enough.

“Why not?”

“Look at you.” You gesture toward me, taking another few steps away to establish a distance that left me cold. Your voice was not as steady as I'm sure you hoped it would be, but it was firm nonetheless. “Look at me.”

Your hand slapped back down to your side. It was a defeated movement. Hopelessness filled you in the form of tears, and that's how I knew you cared.

“You are the King of Dreams,” you continued, “one of the Endless, the fucking—ruler of sleep and unconsciousness, who's been alive for eons.”

Your brows knitted together, and your hand reaches across your frame. “I'm some…human you've been talking to for the last year.”

I swallowed thickly, the sourness turning to a bitter agony. “Don't you love me?”

I sound pathetic asking, but I simply could not go another moment without knowing.

“Of course I love you!” you exclaimed, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. The leaves in the trees around us shook incessantly, yet there was no wind. Your voice was weaker when you spoke again. “How can I not?”

Hope filled me, if only for a moment. If you loved me so, then why do you choose to deny me your hand?

“But I can't have you,” you explained. “I'm mortal, you're Endless. I will die, and you will go on living for damn near the rest of eternity.”

If time was what concerned you, we could take it away.

“I can get you immortality.” I tried to step closer, but you stepped away.

You shook your head. “It's not mine to take.”

It was times like these where I wish you weren't so good. It was times like these where I wish you were more selfish, more possessive.

“Nonsense,” I disagreed. “If you were mine, the whole of the Dreaming would be yours.” You grunted with such frustration that my own crawled up my neck and into my teeth.

“Morpheus.” I still don't like the way you said it…with such a stern resolve, so bitter and broken. “I can't… I've heard about what happens to those who love the Endless.”

I nearly scoff. “Is that what this is about?” I shake my head.

If danger was what concerned you, I would quash the threats set against my love.

“As I said, I can protect you.”

“I'm not afraid for me,” you urged, “I'm afraid for you.” Oh, my love, you hurt me so. “You've lost so much, I can't hurt you like that.” You took tentative steps away from me, looking down and finding it so difficult to reach my gaze. “It is easier for you to let me go and move on, than to humor this ‘relationship’ and get the both of us hurt in the process.”

You looked up, despite the pain, and you moved forward to take my face in your hands. I must close my eyes to relieve the ache of you so close to me now. Oh, how deeply you cut…

“Forget about me,” you insisted, trying to smile for my sake. I could see how much it hurt you. “I know it's not fair, but it's how it has to be.” When my hands land on your waist, you drop yours from my face.

Reluctantly, you set your hands on my wrists and pulled them slowly away from you. Your voice was soft, wavery. You were trying not to cry. “I am not meant for you.” You take a deep breath in. “And you were never meant for me.”

I didn't know what to say. Though, I suppose it did not matter, for the next moment, you were gone. You left from the Dreaming, and you were lost from my sight.

But that was days ago. You have been avoiding me since.

But I've been there. At every turn, I have been there. And I know you feel me, you know that I am always there—lurking, watching, waiting.

You know it's me when you glance over your shoulder for the shadow in the corner of your eye. You know it's me in the shiver down your spine, the phantom billow of my robes as I ghost past. You know it's me in the faintest sound of breath out of sync with your own.

And I can tell that you know it's me now, in the walls of your bedroom while you lay fast asleep. You look so beautiful, soft and serene. To be in your dreams is one thing, but to watch you lost in your sleep is something else. To know that my realm has so much power, so much influence over something as perfect as you… If only I could watch you sleep forever.

Perhaps I could… but I shall not.

I don't understand how you were so sure of how deeply we did not belong, but I did know that you were wrong. Of course you're wrong.

We are meant to be together. We always were and we always will be. I am not prepared to let you go.

You worry so deeply about us, my well-being and yours if anything were to happen. But as long as there was a gap between us, we could never be together. If our eternal marriage wasn't enough to fill that, then I would just have to find something else.

Something deeper. Something more important than bands on our fingers.

And every kingdom needs its heir.

I shed my robes, the sky hidden beneath them as black as the darkest sapphires. My gentle steps are silent as I approach, the moonlight glinting on your skin now blocked by my frame.

Slowly, I sit on the bed beside you, and I cannot resist the touch of my hand against your cheek. You're so soft and sweet, especially when you lean your face into my hand. I smile, and I know you love me.

I lean down ever so slowly, and my lips press to your forehead. Your head shifts, a little keen against me. Oh, how you beg for my touch, my darling.

And I shall give it.

I remove the covers from your body, revealing you to me. Your shirt rides up your belly, exposing the soft expanse of your skin to me. I place my hand there, and hear you sigh. I slide down, my fingers caressing your skin until my hand dips below your shorts and presses to the cotton of your undergarment.

Your breath hitches when you feel my fingers against your clothed clit, brushing so gently, it's like a phantom touch. Still, you do not wake.

Spreading your legs for me, I cup your perfect little pussy in my palm and sigh. Just as I thought you'd be, warm and wet and waiting for me. I tease, stroking gently with my fingers to bring your arousal further. You squirm against my touch, but still you do not wake. You know I am here, you have no reason to fret.

I knew you loved me.

I lean down and kiss you, though you're so tired you do not kiss back. But that’s alright, you are all I need.

I pull away from you, standing once again and standing at the foot of the bed. I grab at the waistband of your shorts and pull them and your panties down your legs, pausing when you stir too much. When you no longer shift, I pull them off completely.

Oh, you are lovely.

My hands stroke the expanse of your smooth skin, and you sigh at my every touch. Your brows knit together, a far off focus in your dreamland. My fingers tease the seam of your sweet cunt once more, delving between your wetting folds to feel how hot you are around me.

You begin to stir again, but my hand to your stomach eases you. I do not want you to wake yet. Not yet. Soon.

Your walls clench around my finger, and I reward them with another. A tiny whimper slips through your lips. I massage my fingers in and out of you, deep and slow movements that coax more and more wetness from your cunt. My thumb presses to your clit, and your hips roll against me very slightly.

I can no longer control myself. I move onto my knees and hold your legs apart. I just want to taste you. And when my tongue meets the arousal seeping from your lips, a deep moan rumbles within me.

Such sweet honey you make all for me, only for me. I suckle around you, licking and sucking and tasting you with a growing enthusiasm. Your tiny whimpers are becoming moans, broken and needy as you keen into my touch. Your fists clench and unclench, your thighs try to close, your hips roll against my mouth. But I keep you steady, steady and still and open wide for me.

As I suck around your clit, I can feel you clenching around my tongue, which licks in and out of you and laps up your sweetness. You're so close, I can feel it, I can taste it. Your desperation for a release is a potent syrup on my tongue.

Your body shakes and your mewling moans fill the room when you come undone. You gasp, a pitchy, wonderful sound that makes me suck harder around your pulsing clit. You try to break away from me, but I only pull you closer, drunk on your taste and refusing to let up until I have had my fill.

It's a wonderful thing, watching you cum for me so deep in your sleep. I can see flashes of your dreams behind my eyes, skin against skin and warmth and passion and even brief images of me. I feel you tremble beneath me, shuddering and whimpering so sweetly.

I work you through your brief overstimulation, groaning around your pussy as your taste overcomes my senses. The intoxication is a precious salve to my hunger for you, but it does not last long. No, I will never not hunger for you.

And I soon shall never have to find myself starved of you either.

The next time you cum, your back arches off the bed and your mewls mix with your heavy gasp. When I hear the sound of your quickening heart and feel the tug of your slowly building consciousness, I pull apart from you.

Shh. Not yet. Sleep, my love. Soon you shall awake and see me giving you all that you desire.

I place my hand to hold your cheek, and your fluttering eyes steady once more as they seal shut in your returning slumber. And when all is right, I smile. Your slick allows my fingers to glide right through.

Perfect.

I move away, stripping the both of us until we're nothing but skin. The bed dips under my weight, and I pull your thighs over my legs.

Taking my cock in my hand, I hiss lightly. You've truly made a mess of me: hot and hard and leaking. I lean down to you, pressing my lips to the side of your face and dipping down into your neck.

“Don't worry, my love,” I whisper in your ear. “We shall be together.”

I line myself with you, and holding my breath, I thrust inside. Warmth blossoms along my body, and I shudder at the tight heat which welcomes me. “All of us.”

You whine as I push farther inside of you, going deeper and deeper until you've taken me all the way. A thick sigh heaves from my chest at the way you clench, and my hips stutter at the feeling. I pull back and thrust in once more, building a steady rhythm that grows with my passion and desperation for you.

You whimper and moan, squirming beneath me as you stir beneath the slumber I've placed you in. The images in your mind—our bodies, our lips, flashes and breaths—they mix like a cocktail that further my intoxication.

My thrusts are perhaps a bit too rushed for our first time together, but I cannot help it. You are better than I have ever imagined you'd be. I want to savor this, to take my time with you, to cherish each feeling and each taste and each sight…

But we shall have plenty of time for that in the future. Right now, I must ravage your body lying so pliant and willing for me.

I kiss your neck, taking the soft flesh between my teeth and sucking. You taste like flowers and honey, a precious taste I shall never tire of. I rut into you, listening to the sweet sounds of your slick along my cock, listening to your weak moans, your needy whimpers. I'm determined to make you cum with me as I rub your aching little clit with the pad of my thumb.

My need for you trumps everything else. I want nothing more than to bury myself as deeply inside of you as I possibly can and fill you with my love, a love that would take root within you and grow our dearest child. I hook my arms underneath your thighs and put you in the perfect position to receive it, chest to chest as I bury my face in the warm column of your throat.

“Oh, my love.” The words spill out of me as the pleasure grips my throat, and I thrust deeply inside of you. In the same thrust, your back arches off the bed and you actually shake in my arms as you cum around my cock, squeezing me so tight that I have no choice but to cum inside of you.

A rough groan tears through my throat and into your ear. As your tight pussy trembles around you, you gasp as the pleasure rips through you. I feel the harsh tug of sleep being taken from you, and you fully awake with me still buried so perfectly in your cunt.

You choke on my name, and the sound is so sweet that my hips stutter in a half-thrust that pulls a moan out of you. I smile, pulling back without pulling out and looking down at you. You're so beautiful like this, dazed from the pleasure, still coated in sleep with the confusion of it all.

“Dream,” you whisper again, your voice thick with sleep and something else. “Dream, what–?”

You don't have time to speak because I have already begun fucking inside of you again. I'm not quite done yet—I want to make certain that you shall carry my heir in your belly, certain that I shall claim you forever.

And I'm already so addicted to the feeling of your body. To be without it would be a crime.

With the relief of a release, I can focus now as I gaze down at you. My hips thrust in and out—a steady, quick, rough rhythm that has you moaning with loud and helpless sounds that are music to my ears. Your hands reach up, clenching my arms with an uncertain goal.

You struggle to speak, so driven by your lust for me that all you can do is form wordless words as I fuck you. You curse and swear, glassy eyes on me as I hold you close.

Suddenly, I pull out of you, and the most pathetic whine slips from your throat. I flip you onto your belly, spreading your legs and pushing your chest down as I enter you from behind. You welcome me, as I knew you would. My perfect girl.

“Hello, my darling,” I whisper through a groan after a particularly rough thrust. “Did you miss me?”

You mutter something of my name, and I smile.

“I missed you, too,” I say. I press my chest to your back, bringing my hand to wrap around your neck so gently. “But I shall never leave you again. And you shall never leave me.”

You try to say something but it doesn't matter. I pick up my pace, my strength. I hold you tightly and fuck into you with everything that I have. As my fingers circle your abused clit, you moan and gasp for breath as all the pleasure stacks on top of you, one right after the other.

“You're so good for me, my love,” I sigh. “You're always so good for me, as you sleep and as you wake.” Another whimper resounds.

I've longed for this moment for so long. This moment where you would be beneath me, moaning my name and welcoming me into your intimate warmth. Your body moves against me, seeking me out and shuddering under my touch as I give you everything you need. All the slick has built with the addition of my cum dripping out of you, coating me and the sheets below in white. The sounds we make together—the moans, the creaks, the smacks—it's a beautiful cacophony of sweet music. I could stay here forever, locked in this room with you and your body and your love, fucking you with all my passion and making love to you with all my heart.

Your hand reaches out to grab something, settling for the pillow, which you grip so hard, it looks as though you may tear into the fabric. The pictures in your mind have become so much more muddled. Now they're flashes of white, the vague movements of bodies and the vague sounds of groans. It's a mess, a beautiful mess of tangled thoughts and watered down cohesion.

Your moans shudder like cries when I pull another orgasm from your weak little body. As I fuck you through it, the pleasure becomes all the better as you go blinded by it.

“So perfect, my beautiful dear.” I pull out of you, and you sigh as I do, as if you think this is over. I turn you back onto your back.

My knuckles smooth gently down the side of your face as you stare up at me, your eyes glazed over. I kiss you, a deep, bruising kiss filled with all of my lust for you. It takes you a moment, but you kiss back. It's a wonderful feeling.

As our lips are joined, I join our bodies once more. You gasp into my mouth as my cock fills you once more. I trail my kisses along your jaw and back to your neck, painting you in love bites and taking you as mine.

My hips snap into you, my hands hold you tight, my lips lave along your skin. Oh, how I love you so. It shows in the way that I thrust, in the way that I sigh, in the way that I kiss, in the way that I hold you close to me. I can't let go.

A couple of stray tears slip down your cheeks, and I kiss them away. Poor thing, so full of pleasure that you're crying for it.

Without giving you much time to recover, my thumb is at your clit again. I've become utterly intoxicated with the sight of your undoing: the way you tremble and shake, the way you gasp and sigh. I love you.

And for a while, we stay like this, rocking and grinding and moaning into one another. The sight of our faces are drenched in utter bliss, and I bask in the moment. I can feel the beginnings of a second release prickling within me, and my steady thrusts begin to falter.

“I want to hear you say it.”

Your dazed eyes look up at me, your question interrupted by a moan. “Say–ah! Say what?”

“Tell me that you love me. As I love you.” I press my forehead against yours, rutting into you with all my strength as I begin to lose control. “Tell me, my darling. Tell me.”

“I…” You clench your jaw, arching your back as you struggle to speak through your pleasure. “Fuck, Dream.”

Your mouth is agape, and your eyes are closed so sweetly. But I need to hear you say it. I need it. “Say it.” My grip on your hip tightens, my thumb on your clit becomes more ruthless.

Lost in euphoria, you gasp and nearly choke on the words you give to me. “I love you.” You huff out a heavy breath, holding me tighter as your lips search for my skin. Their sloppy contact slides against me, wanting nothing more than to feel my skin against you. “I love you, Dream. Fuck, don’t stop, I love you.”

I sigh at the pleasure it gives me to hear those words on your delicate lips. “Again. Say it again.”

“I love you.” A whimpering sound mixes with a groan. “I love you, Dream.”

My fuse is running out, and with the way you tighten around me, I don’t stand a chance as my rough thrusts bring the both of us even closer to our highs. I can taste it on my tongue. The taste of your honeyed flower skin and your sweet arousal is my own personal wine.

My voice is barely a whisper in my haste. “Say it.”

“I love you, Morpheus.”

The dam breaks as I spill inside of you, shoving my cock as deep as I could possibly reach. Your gasp joins mine, and our sounds mingle with heaving breaths, your pitchy moans mixing with my deepened ones. You hold me as close as I hold you, and our lips slot together in the white noise of our ecstasy.

My hips continue their endless pursuit within you, desperate rolls thrusting within you just to make certain we’ve created our heir. For a while, I lay there on top of you, sparing you my weight but offering my warmth as I stay comfortably sheathed within you. Our gasping breaths have settled to gentle sighs, and you lay limply beneath me as you stare up at the ceiling. Contemplating.

When the time has unfortunately come to remove myself from you, I do as I adjust some hair from your face and kiss your forehead.

There was a fog in the room that I had not noticed before—not a physical one, of course. It’s beginning to clear in the aftermath of our combined pleasure. Your eyes slowly find mine, glazed still but the clearest they have been all night. Now that the blinding bliss has settled and you’ve fully awakened, there’s a clarity you’ve suddenly gained. You take in the sight of my face and I smile down at you, brushing my thumb over your cheek.

“Dream,” you mutter gently, to which I hum. “What have you done?”

My smile grows. I place a kiss to your lips, one that you seem to have trouble returning. Hooking my finger under your chin, I ensure you see me as I speak softly, a gentle hum that I know you shall hear.

“No one shall steal you from me now. Not even Death, no one. You are mine and only mine.”

Your eyes are glossy now, unshed tears gracing them that I hope to wipe away. “Dream,” you whisper, holding onto me with a tight grasp that I embrace. You look like you’ll say something, something dire and important. Instead, you close your mouth and smile, the kind of smile that must be pushed for.

“I love you,” you whisper. There’s an undertone to it that I dismiss. You’re tired, that’s all. I know you love me, and that’s all that matters.

I smile, kissing you again with all the love in my heart. My hand on your waist tightens, and I must remember that you are human. Pulling away from your lips, I brush my finger over your bottom one.

“I love you, too, my darling wife.”

Nothing can take that from us now.

The Sandman taglist: @poetic-fiasco @the-nerdy-goddess @life-on-needs @fanreader @jamiethenerdymonster @sarahbullet235 @majestyjade @melinoe-the-rat @katsukis1wife @sugakookieswithacupoftae16 @hatterripper31 @kplatzman @kmc1989 @thegen3sisark Dreamers taglist: @meg-the-second-greatest @killerqueen-ofwillowgreen @gortycs @octo-octopie @damianodavidhands @alexxavicry @rosaren2498 @sayumiht @jaritzaflores94 @evabalexeeva @cl-0-vr Tag yourself here...

#dream of the endless #morpheus #dream of the endless x reader #morpheus x reader #dream of the endless smut #morpheus smut #the sandman #the sandman fanfic #the sandman fanfiction #dream of the endless fanfic #morpheus fanfic #morpheus fanfiction #dream of the endless fanfiction #reader insert #female reader #fanfic #fanfiction

[gavisfanta]

TIKTOK - GAVI

summary: you and Gavi do a tiktok trend together

warnings: noneeee

"Okay, so we're gonna ask questions about ourselves and if the other person gets it wrong, were allowed to dip their head into water. Are you ready" You looked away from your phone and then at Gavi.

"Yeah, but you know that I can't remember things very well." Gavi joked and then sat down infront of the bowl filled with water.

"Yeah, you tell yourself that." You put your hand on the back of Gavis head and played with his hair a bit.

"What's my favourite city in the whole world?" You asked and Gavi began to smile while he looked at the camera.

"Barcelona?" He questioned while he looked at you.

You began to smile and let go of his head. "I'll let that count." Gavi looked at you confused and held his hands up into the air.

"What do you mean? Is it not Barcelona?" He asked and you smiled.

"Rome and Barcelona." Gavi's mouth opened slightly as he remembered.

"Righttt we went there for your birthday!" He put his right hand to his head while you two swapped places.

You were now facing the bowl filled with water and Gavi had his hand on the back of your head.

"When did I debut for the first team?" Gavi asked, he thought that you would never get this right. However the smile that spread across your lips made him a bit nervous.

"29th of August 2021."

"how did you know that?" His jaw dropped while you two swapped again.

"I was literally there to experience it, you think I forgot when my boyfriend debuted?" You grinned and slowly a smile made it's way to his face too.

"Yeah okay, fair." 

"So" You began as you two swapped seats again. "What would I name my daughter if I had one?"  You asked and Gavi immediately began to smile.

"Gavi junior." He laughed. "Okay I'm kidding, I'm kidding" He held his hands up to defend himself as he felt your hand push his head a bit closer to the water. "Estrella" He smiled as soon as he heard you sigh.

"Estrella sounds like a good name no?" You asked him as you swapped seats again.

"Yeah, Estrella sounds like a good name for our daughter." Gavi smiled at you and you looked at the camera. Your cheeks colored in a light pinkish tone.

Then as your head was above the water, you smiled while listening to Gavi. "If I had been a girl, what would have been my name?" Gavi asked with a sly smile.

"Your parents hoped you'd be a boy so they never thought about a girl name." You hekd your breath, ready to be dunked but nothing happened.

"Joder you really do listen to me when I talk." Gavi laughed and you nodded your head.

"Yeah, you should maybe listen to me too sometime." You shot back as Gavi's eyes widened and he sat down infront of the bowl.

"I do listen to you?" He said in his defence. You crossed your arms as your eyes widened even more than before.

"Yeah, what's my favourite color?" You asked and immediately dunked his head into the water.

"Hey I know it's red!?" Gavi asked as he pushed his dripping hair out of his face.

"It's purple!" You answered loudly and sat down on the chair as soon as he stood up.

"Okay, sorry." He smiled a bit. You shook your head and turned to look at your phone.

"Okay guys thank you for tuning in and see you next time." You waved at the camera and saw that Gavi was waving too.

After you ended the video you turned on the chair to look at him.

"Y/n, Estrella and Gavi. Hm?" He hummed as he leaned down and pecked your lips.

"Not yet, we're too young." You told him and he just smiled.

"Not yet, I know, but someday, we'll have our own little family." He put his hand on the back of your head as he said that. "You're gonna stay at home and care for the kids while I am at practice and every weekend you'd take them to Camp Nou, and whenever I score a goal, I'll run up to you and kiss you." Gavi smiled as he imagined how his perfect future was supposed to look like.

"Sounds like I'll be fine then." You smiled and he leaned down to peck your lips again.

"You'll be more than just fine Amor."

#barca #fc barcelona #football #gavi #futbol #fanfic #mustread #espana #pablo gavi #gavi x reader #pablo paez gavi #i miss gavi #gavi fluff #trend #tiktok #fiction #gavi fanfiction

[ecliphttlunar]

If you are not - Chris Sturniolo

Summary: you had been separated for weeks, and you were both suffering, and you wanted each other, until all this suffering ended when you had the chance to meet again once again.

Warnings: angst, comfort, kisses, mention of unrequited love, cute

Author's notes: This is my work, I do not authorize any plagiarism, copying or “inspiration”. English is not my first language, so I'm sorry if there are any grammatical errors. This is part 2 of Friends

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Since that night, Chris has been losing his mind, and you've been trying to convince yourself that you did the right thing.

You two were lost in a maze of emotions, Chris was missing you, and he was going crazy.

And you were wondering what was wrong with you when you left.

This loneliness was making you cold.

Chris tried not to let it get him down, going out to parties, talking and hooking up with girls.

For others, you had become just another person.

But Chris knew better.

He was always, even though he knew it was wrong, comparing other girls to you.

They weren't pretty like you.

They weren't fun like you.

They weren't as nice as you, they didn't get along as well with his brothers as you did, they didn't stay in his head like you did, they didn't have your smile, the sparkle in your eyes, the soft hair like yours, the features of your face like yours.

They weren't you.

Chris was now with his friends and brothers, all on the couch watching a movie while drops of water fell to the ground and thunder accompanied the rain.

You were always afraid of storms, always finding comfort in Chris's arms, his soft voice in your ear, and the stupid jokes that made you laugh.

But now you weren't in his arms, and Chris began to feel afraid of the storm, the terrifying sounds the thunder made.

Looking out the window, watching the rain fall, he realized that, again, he was thinking about you.

But he couldn't be surprised by it.

He was obsessed with you.

What had you done with him?

And he felt it again, that poison inside him.

Longing. He missed you.

And you? You were lying in your bed, with a blanket over your body to keep you warm, but you still felt cold.

You were cold, alone, and scared to sleep.

Because whenever you slept, you remembered those eyes.

Those damn eyes.

Whenever you slept, it felt like you went back in time, always having the same dream.

First, you saw his eyes.

He was there, in front of you, smiling at you, you were holding hands, and soon you hugged each other, your lips touched and your hand went to his hair.

Until you woke up and realized it was all a dream.

Just a dream.

And now, you were scared to sleep.

You knew that in your thoughts, he would remain, at all times you would remember the sparkle in those eyes.

You closed your eyes and couldn't forget him.

Damn gods.

You thought about him, even when you were with someone.

Attractive, fun men, they knew how to talk to you, they made you laugh.

But the story was always the same.

At some point or another, you would start comparing that man to Chris.

You always thought about him.

Even though you were with someone, you thought.

It wasn't him.

You were losing your mind, going completely crazy, feeling different emotions at the same time.

Until one day, destiny brought you together again.

And finally you realized.

It was inevitable.

The destiny had already been written.

It was supposed to be you and Chris.

It all happened when Nick asked you to participate in a new video.

And you said yes.

You knew you should say no.

But everything was a disaster, and you just wanted to see him.

Find out how he is.

And you couldn't wait any longer, and now you were 5 minutes away from loving him again.

One last time.

You parked your car in front of their house but stayed in the car.

His hands shook as they gripped the steering wheel tightly.

You close your eyes and take a deep breath, finally getting out of the car and walking towards the front door of the house.

You had been standing in front of the door for more than 5 minutes, trying to find the courage to knock.

Your hand was shaking as you raised it for the tenth time, about to knock on the door.

But you lowered it again, and raised it, and repeated these movements several times.

Until, before you had time to understand what you were doing, you knocked on the door.

After a few seconds it opened, revealing him.

Chris.

He swallowed hard, not believing the ghost in front of him.

You were really there.

When Nick said you were coming for the new video, Chris froze, and thought it was a lie.

But he remembered that his brothers didn't know exactly what had happened between you, so for you to show up at his house was something that could happen.

And there you were, in front of him.

Chris had prepared a speech for you, and now, this speech was going through his mind, he needed to talk to you.

It was simple, he just needed to say it, but it felt like their lips had been glued together.

Even if he tried, they wouldn't open up.

He froze in place.

Until his lips came loose, and he stood there in front of you, opening and closing his mouth.

You were confused.

And he was embarrassed, he was making a fool of himself now, in front of you.

He just closed his lips and eyes tightly, lowering his head.

He stayed in that position for a while, and when a small spark of courage appeared, still with his head down, he whispered.

"I'm sorry" the first words of the speech had been spoken, and now, he just needed to say the rest.

And now, he thought it would be a little easier, he had managed to start, he just needed to finish.

But he couldn't, because he forgot all the words he had prepared as soon as he raised his head and saw your watery eyes.

You didn't want to cry, but as soon as those words escaped his mouth, and you realized the conversation they were going to have, you couldn't help it, you tried to remain firm, but your eyes started to water.

His heart broke when he saw you in that fragile state.

But he needed to continue, even if it was difficult, he needed to, because you had given him permission to talk, you were listening to him, and he wanted, he needed to have you back.

So, he continued, even though he didn't know what he was saying, he continued, transforming all these emotions he felt these last few weeks into words.

"I'm sorry, I.." he closes his eyes.

Now it was his emotions that were trying to surface, his voice broke and he wondered if he could speak.

He needed to speak. Or he would lose you again, and maybe he wouldn't have another chance like this.

He lets out a shaky breath, and continues.

"I'm normally not the type of person to stay up all night thinking about someone, but since that night, I haven't been able to sleep, it's kind of hard to sleep peacefully, when your heart is on the line, the truth is I'm going through hell since you left, because in my head it's always been you, my heart is in your hands, desperate because no one can take it from you, you're on my damn mind and I can't fight it."

You tried to hold back the tears, but at this point you were already sobbing, because you were going through hell too.

You were feeling the same way he felt.

He approaches you, and when you don't back away, he takes your face in his hands.

He takes a deep breath, trying to control his emotions.

At that moment, he was handing you a knife, while you held his heart.

Waiting to see what you would do.

Whether you would throw away the knife, and keep his heart, or whether you would kill him.

"I'm tired of playing with myself, thinking there's someone else, I dated girls, and I tried to write the story my way, but if it's not you, it's a lie."

“Chris” You whisper his name but he stops you.

You were so close now, noses touching, lips millimeters apart.

"I'm sorry for not realizing sooner, for not telling you that I loved you, I'm so sorry." He whispers.

You breathe, calling his name again, and again, and again.

You were a wreck.

"I thought it was some kind of one-sided love, unrequited love." You whisper.

"No honey, I just didn't realize it, but now I see it, I love you."

You let out a small laugh, finding it funny what the lack of communication did to you.

"I love you too Chris."

And with those 4 words, Chris felt his heart beat again, faster than ever.

You still loved him.

Chris felt the air returning to his lungs as he smiled.

You missed that smile.

Of course, you and Chris knew that everything wasn't resolved, you would have to talk more, resolve some other things that hadn't yet been resolved, and explain a lot of things to each other.

But at that moment, you just wanted him to dry your tears and kiss you.

And that's exactly what he did.

He kissed you, but it wasn't like other times, where you were at a party kissing because of sexual desires.

He kissed you because he loved you. And he put all this love he felt for you into that kiss.

And you like it.

You separated, and looked at each other, both eyes reflecting love.

And in that moment, you understood.

That before, no matter how much you loved each other, you still didn't know how to love.

That's why it was necessary for you to separate, so that you could learn.

And you learned.

You holding each other, smiling at each other, your eyes shining with love, it was proof that you had learned how to love each other.

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#chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo smut #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matt sturniolo x you #sturniolo triplets #nick sturniolo fanfic #nick sturniolo smut #nick sturniolo edit #matthew sturniolo #nick sturniolo x you #sturniolo fanfic #nick sturniolo x reader #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo edit #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets smut #sturniolo triplets imagines #sturniolo triplets edit

[twst-drabbles]

Floyd 11

Summary: You were smoking by the window when Floyd decided now would be an amazing time to dive into the pool you had installed. In his full form. And now he won’t stop looking at you for attention. Haa, you know what, you were in need of a distraction anyway.

(Hehehe the subject is rather heavy, but Floyd is as Floyd does, saying things seemingly vague but not really. Cheeky eel.)

You’ve been working on getting rid of the habit, you swear. Sure sure, you don’t exactly look convincing when you’re leaning on the window sill, packet of cigarettes at hand as though they never left your side and taking gentle drags like you’re trying to savor it, but this was your first cig in a while. You had this same pack for about a few months.

It’s slow going, but you’re going. Soon you’ll stop. Soon you’ll be at the point where you’ll just forget the urge to reach for your lighter. But not today. There’s too much energy in your spine and your head has been itching. Waiting. Like it’s anticipating something even though there’s nothing.

Haa… you don’t understand this. You don’t know how to fix this.

You took a slow drag and breathed out. Something within you quieted a bit and you couldn’t help but close your eyes. Wind drifted over your face. It was nice. Relaxing.

Then you heard a splash. You and your cigarette were drenched in water.

“Hey!”

You opened your eyes to see a large Floyd lounging on his slick tail, lazily waving at you like he didn’t have the energy to do anything more, despite his big, toothy grin.

You snorted out water then sighed at the sight of your useless cigarette. You dropped it in the ash tray.

You thought you were alone, since everyone is usually doing their own thing outside or in their pocket homes, but you guess you can’t always rely on the convince of routine to keep you safe. Floyd saw you, clearly, and intentionally made a splash at you.

Floyd, when he first saw you, wanted in on this bad habit of yours. But, when you said no, he basically made it his job to stop you when he sees you. It’s easy to see it as him being childish. ‘If I can’t have it, you can’t either,’ type of thing, but that’s not quite it, now is it?

You want to get rid of this bad habit, so Floyd will be the menace to get you to slow down and stop. Weird, weird eel.

Well, not like you can ask for anything else. This too was something you appreciated, as annoying as he can be.

So, when you finally noticed that Floyd’s eyes have never once left you, you figured it would best to join him, if only to keep yourself from scratching that addicting itch.

“So,” Floyd slithered right next to your knees as soon as you sat down, “what’s bothering ya? You haven’t been that careless in a while, so what’s got you smoking right where I can see you?”

“Hmm, I don’t know,” you splashed your hands, attempting to scrub out a spot in your palm, only to find that that’s just another scar that won’t fade, “It just feels like something’s nagging at me. Kinda wound up. Tight. Can’t tell you why that is, though.”

“So that’s what made you smoke?” Floyd dragged his upper body out, not caring for the water that surged and soaked your clothes, “’Cause you can’t think of anything else that’ll make you feel better?” He picked at a loose thread laying on your thigh, pulled, then snapped it off. Another place for your clothes to fray open.

Lot of them have been falling apart, actually. Huh. You never noticed how worn out your clothes have been. Guess they’re just too old to handle any more stress.

“Don’t do that,” you said, though you did nothing to stop his claws from tugging the loose end of your shorts, “Well, I guess. It just easier to de-stress with a pack around and a lighter in your pocket. Not like I know anything that’ll help me.”

You had hobbies but those become hard to keep up with when you spent all that time just looking for your lost ones. And trying to get back into them, you know you’ll be frustrated at the decay in skills. So you’d rather not bother.

“Hmm,” Floyd lowered his head and plopped it right on your lap. He started to playfully tap your knuckles with his claws. “What about me?”

His tail exited the water and curled around you.

“What about you?” you grabbed his hand and gently pushed against the webbing between his fingers. He really had the gall to pretend to think about it, like there were no other choices for him to pick from.

“You can use me,” Floyd’s smile was small, cheeky as he basically trapped you in his tail, “in any way you like. That’ll help get the stress out, right?”

You can take a guess as to what he’s talking about.

You chuckled as you leaned back.

“Alright, then I’ll use you to rest my back,” you smiled at the frown that spread on Floyd’s face, “Resting is also de-stressing.”

“…you’re no fun.” Floyd grumbled but didn’t fight it.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst-drabbles #ask #drabble #octavinelle #floyd #floyd leech #reader insert #sanctuary au

[scorpioriesling]

I Look In People's Windows

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Pairing(s): Eris x reader

Warnings: angst

Summary: It's been years... years since the breakup. He is no longer yours. He never really was, always keeping you at a distance. But, there were some good times. Maybe that's why you keep hoping to see him again, anywhere. Just one more time.

SR’s Note: Cannot get this song out of my head, and yes I am doing an Eris story! I love writing him. This one ends happy, just trust.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

The day he left was the day you'd changed.

He'd tried to reason with you, to make you see why you couldn't be together anymore; it was the day his father killed his younger brother's lover.

Perhaps, he changed on that day too.

"You have to go," he'd said. "You have to get out of here. Now." You remembered it like it was yesterday; there was no option for questioning or changing his mind this time. You'd already started crying, before the argument began.

"I don't care, Eris! I love you, I can't just leave..." You could still feel the way your heart broke, split right in two. Eris had been frenzied, frantically gathering your things and packing them in a backpack.

"And I love you! Don't you see that? I mean, really -- don't you get it?" He threw the backpack on the bed, and you'd watched from the doorway, water dripping from your chin and onto the expensive oak flooring.

"I know you're afraid, but-" He charged over to you, taking your wrists in his hands.

"I am not afraid. Of nothing. Of no one." He said, so close you could feel his breath on your nose. You narrowed your watery eyes at him.

"You are." Is all you said. He dropped your hands, returning to the bed and snatching up the backpack. His back had still been turned to you when he said:

"I won't have you end up dead like Jesminda." Another silent sob racked your body, and you tried hard to keep from shaking.

"You know I'd love you to the ends of Prythian, Y/N." He said, voice quieter now as he approached you and slipped your arms into the staps of the pack. "I would do anything for you." A tear slipped past his eyeline. "Hell, I would jump into the cauldron for you-"

"I don't need anyone jumping into anything," you say, brushing your thumb over his tear-stained cheek. "I just need you. Me. I don't want to not know you anymore." The last part came out shakily. "Does it feel alright to not know me?"

His hands pulled your waist close, and he wrapped his arms around you one more time. You remembered feeling his shoulders shaking, your tears staining his mahogony jacket as you buried your face in his chest. You inhaled deep, smelling his campfire and cinnamon scent one more time...

And now here you were, still addicted to the "if only"s. If only he'd let you stay. If only he'd run with you. If only he was still yours...

You hadn't realized you'd wandered out of your neighborhood, and into the town square. The sky was gray and dull; reflecting how you'd felt inside. When was the last time you'd truly seen the sunshine?

On the last day you'd spent with your love.

Meandering through the Autumn court streets was usually peaceful, not many people being out this time of year as the air had turned a bit chilly. You would constantly check inside shops, the big windows highlighting the guests inside. You don't know what you'd do if you saw him now; its been years since he told you to leave. You'd listened, and stayed away; but that didn't help your mind playing tricks on you. Thinking you'd seen him boarding a train; seeing him at the tables of Christmas parties you couldn't bring yourself to attend.

You were pulled from your thoughts when you heard the conversations around you, growing more and more as you'd ventured further into the square.

"I heard his kid did it."

"I can't believe the High Lord is actually dead."

"I was told that the oldest son slayed him, out of pure hatred."

What were they talking about? Certainly if they were discussing Lord Beron, you would have heard the news by now. If what they were saying was true and he was really dead, that would mean...

"Ahh, thank you Mariella. You always know exactly why I've come!"

Your body freezes, the whisper of sound drifting from an open doorway to a bakery on your left. You'd recognize that honey-dripped voice anywhere.

You break into a sprint, right for the bakery.

You knew you weren't decieving yourself this time.

Peering in through the storefront, you catch sight of his radiant curls, piled on his head. His genuine smile exposes his perfect canines; a smile you hadn't seen in so long. One you'd never thought you'd see again. He looked almost the exact same, just how you remembered him from all those years ago.

Your breath fogged up the glass, and you wiped it with your sleeve. The small squeak that came from the action caused Eris and the cashier to both peer out at you, and you felt an electricity bolt shoot through you when your eyes met his one more time.

He murnured something quickly to the woman, and raced out of the store. When he cleared the entry way, he stared at you in silence for a few beats, utter shock on his face like he was seeing you for the first time all over again. He took one small step towards you, and you couldn't wait any longer. You ran to him and threw your arms around his neck, his wrapping around your waist and twirling you around. When he finally set you down, you pulled back and met those whiskey orbs, solely focused on you. You didn't care who was staring. You didn't care what people said. You only cared about the male in front of you.

"Eris, what... what happened?" You asked, voice breaking as you tried to contain the happy tears running down your face. He only smiled back at you longingly, taking one hand in yours and placing the other in your hair, finally feeling your wispy tendrils he missed so much.

"I feel as though I've waited forever for this," he admits, pulling you in closer. When his lips meet yours, the sweet apple taste is back. One you'd missed for so long. He continues kissing you for a few moments, relishing in the fact that you were finally back in his arms.

"And," he says, pulling away and resting his forehead on yours. "I'm not afraid anymore."

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

#Spotify #acowar #a court of silver flames #a court of mist and fury #a court of frost and starlight #a court of wings and ruin #a court of thorns and roses #acotar #lucien acotar #eris vanserra #eris acotar #eris x reader #eris vandaddy #lady of autumn #acotar series #rhys acotar #rhysand #rhys x reader #archeron sisters

[caramelcleopatraa]

WORKOUT

word count: 801

x: typed this out in a couple of hours because I saw these pictures and imagined Roman working out in the outdoor gym and just started writing whatever came to my mind (not proofread) Enjoy this impulsive imagine.

content: 18+ mdni, established relationship, Roman Reigns x reader, Exhibitionism/Vouyerism, doggystyle, (sorta) public

He bought an Airbnb for you two after losing his championship title. Time to get away from the rush of it all. So, you two escaped and went to Miami, enjoying quality time alone in the house, or eating high end food in sparkling restaurants. The house was beautiful in itself. The exposing windows that separated the modern house from the outside. A mix of beige, black, and green. Decorative trees and bushes sprinkled around the house, complimenting the beige and black interior. The house had everything. Multiple bedrooms and bathrooms, a spacious pool with beautiful greenery surrounding it, and an outdoor gym overlooking the water and other modern houses in the distance. Of course, The outdoor gym was his favorite part of the house. And you reeked of the benefits. Watching his beautiful face contort as he pushed through different exercises. His warm caramel skin shining brighter with the sun’s help. You never thought that you would find yourself using the outdoor gym equipment. Except for today, grabbing onto the stable black bar while you and Roman engaged in a…. different type of workout.

“Mhm that ass so damn fat, making me feel so fucking good baby.” Your hand was starting to hurt from how tight you were grabbing onto the gym equipment. Your other arm was no help, being held behind you by your samoan lover. Soo, you wouldn't have to worry about grabbing on to the bar, because your other arm would be held behind you as well. Usually, you shied away from doing sexual acts in public, but he looks so sexy working out, you forgot to have shame while he fucked you stupid. Neither did you try to find shame because of the overwhelming pleasure he was giving you. 

Your nails scratched at his forearms, yelling his favorite names in that sweet honey voice that hypnotized him into doing anything for you. “Ooohh~ shit! You’re fucking me so good!” The sight of his woman high off pleasure because of him gave him indescribable feelings of pride and happiness. “My baby so nasty, fuckk- keep talking to me mama,” Roman purred, burying himself deeper in your pussy, marveling at the wetness. Your legs were turning into jelly from his sudden slow and methodical, but forceful strokes. You needed more than that though. “Faster Roman…” His silence let you know what you needed to do. You knew that you would have to beg him to get what you wanted. “Daddy please stop playing! Fuck me for real!” But he didn’t give you any time to catch your breath, pulling you closer to his body by your torso and kissing you. He walked you closer to the edge, giving both of you a better view of the houses around you. But that also gave them a better view of you. 

“Ask me correctly.” “Baby, they can see us.” He held you tight against him, slyly slipping his thick hand between your thighs to rub your clit. “Let them see how good I’m fucking you. Ask daddy again.” You let out a heavy breath before saying, “P-please fuck me daddy. I need it so bad.” As much as he liked to tease you, he needed it as much as you did. Your arms were held behind your back again, but he submerged himself in the crook of your neck, talking you through it while sliding his dick back into you. Welcomed by the warmth and tightness he always missed when he pulled out of you. “That pussy feels so fucking good baby. You this wet because of me, huh?” You couldn’t respond before he started fucking you again. Your mouth fell agape, moaning like crazy. “Mhm, let ‘em hear. Let them hear how good I’m fucking this pussy.” His breath on your neck, his hold on you body, the way he fucked you, it made you dizzy. Your mind was going blank, and your knees were going weak, trying your best to communicate to him that you were going to cum without stuttering. “Daddy! Ugh shiit! Please let me cum.” “Go ahead mama, cum for me.” He held you up while you collapsed in his arms, legs shaking, eyes rolled back, screaming his name a couple more times while saying, “I’m coming!” as well. Your moans meshed with his deep grunts and groans, coming deep inside of you with some final thrusts, jerking your body forward. You could feel his chest rising and falling against your back. You grabbed the back of his neck, relaxing into his hold, sweaty and satisfied, close to your man. “Best workout you ever had huh?” He laughs at your joke, but doesn’t let you get the last word. “Just wait until after our date tonight sweetheart. You won’t ever need to hit the gym again.”

🏷️ tags :) @reignsboy19 @2-muchsauce @theninthwonder @harmshake @alichesmi @thesamoanqueen @alyyaanna @empressdede @badbitchcentralinc @christinabae @fame-ass-ers @southerngirl41 @cyberdejos2 @murrylove @sassginaswanmills @pixiedust4000

#caramelcleopatraa #roman reigns #wwe #roman reigns x y/n #roman reigns x oc #roman reigns x black reader #roman reigns x reader #roman reigns x chubby reader #roman reigns smut #joe anoa'i x reader #joe anoa'i x black reader

[starlit-typewriter]

Genshin SAGAU, Creator of Teyvat, but not Humanity Pt2

I didn't expect such a warm reception, but I'm so glad you guys all liked it!

Your kind words inspired me so much so behold the next part!

Warning for spoilers up to 4.6

Prev Part |

~~~

It all started with a dream.

Well, a lot of things start with dreams, but this one was an actual, asleep in bed, REM cycle dream.

Well, at least you thought it was. But that's neither here nor now. 

It was, to your unending embarrassment about Genshin Impact. 

Now there’s absolutely nothing wrong with likings something so much that you end up dreaming about it, it’s just slightly humiliating when you as a person is not someone who dreams a lot and your first actual proper dream that you can actually remember past the first twenty minutes after waking up is about a fictional 2D character vowing to love and care for you.

Ever so slightly humiliating.

You'd've preferred it if it was an actual person because at least that way you knew you had a crush on a living human being rather than having a parasocial relationship with a giant block of code and text. 

Actually, can you have parasocial relationships with fictional humans?

Not the point,

This started with a series of extremely weird and slightly embarrassing dreams about Iudex Neuvillette.

Actually this started when you C6’d him.

Honestly, you did not expect to get anywhere near this lucky, especially since your past luck has been average to low in terms of wishing for characters.

But with him, 

Well,

It wasn't quite streamer luck, but you did not have to spend any monetary funds to achieve your goal. 

You did have to skip quite a few Fontanian characters, and grind out all the region’s exploration, but you’d say it was well worth it.

The night after you’d gotten that final constellation, you had the aforementioned weird dream.

You weren’t in the dream per say, as you didn’t seem to occupy any physical space, 

you well.

The best way to describe it would be a movie scene. 

You watched as the man, dragon, stood on a balcony. 

The moon’s rays reflecting off of this silver chalice, you could only assume filled with another one of his fancy waters. 

But it was his gaze that caught your attention.

It’s cheesy to say, but you’ve always been drawn to the man’s gaze. It was always so sharp, so intentional.

He knew what he was looking at and he did so with reason.

But now, at this moment.

It was unfocused, hazy. 

His gaze was not focused on the moon, nor the city lights.

He did not stare at the landscape of Fontaine, nor the glittering waters beneath.

But, he saw you.

You don’t know how you knew, but you did.

You didn’t hear what he was saying, nor could you make out the words his mouth was forming but you knew that it was a call, a call for you.

It was odd but flattering and confusing, but a deeper part of you crooned as his sentiments. A part of you you didn’t realize you had was rising to the surface.

“My child,” it crooned, “my dear Hydro Dragon,”

Neuvillette seemed to startle at that.

You knew you didn’t make any sound, you didn’t even have a body, but somehow he heard it, heard you.

His face flushed, hand grasping at his chest as his murmurs seemed to grow faster.

You didn’t know what was going on anymore, simply that this rising feeling in your chest was growing and growing. 

It was scary.

It was alien.

Feelings that were not your own, moments of clarity and nostalgia flash through you, connecting to nothing but faceless figures and a deep sense of regret and loss.

What is happening,

A part of you that you didn’t know about, that you’ve never felt.

Is this what it feels like to be possessed, you recall thinking faintly before sinking into darkness.

~~~

The Iudex of Fontaine stood above all in the courtroom.

With the destruction of the Oratrice Mechanique D’analyse Cardinale, his word and judgment were the last line holding Fountaine to its standard of justice and order.

On paper, he seemed to have it all as the youths may say.

But his identity as the Hydro Dragon may deter from that.

It is already isolating enough to be the Iudex of the nation of Justice and Hydro, but to be the only dragon, were it not something that he had spent his entire lifespan balancing, he feared he could go mad from that.

There is a sense of irony in that.

Focalors's plot put both he and Furina in the highest positions in all of Fountaine, and in turn made them both the most isolated as well.

Although, at least she was released from her duties after the job was done.

While he was and forever will be grateful for her contribution in saving Fountaine, there is a quiet part of him that he’s tried very hard to bury, that is green with envy. 

He understood Focalor’s reasoning, after all, once their act was done Furina would be able to live a normal human life and he would be able to regain his powers and authority as the Hydro Dragon. 

That was as much as she could do for him, from her limited position.

He was grateful.

But,

His brethren, his kin.

They did not have the same freedoms granted to them.

While he did not have many memories of what happened to the previous sovereigns, nor of his life before the arrival of the Primordial one, he knew that they were most likely sealed away, deprived of their rightful power and authority.

It is his duty as the Hydro Dragon to render judgment upon the Usurpers that massacred his brethren and sealed away his kin. To uphold the standard of justice he has worked so hard to maintain during his rule as Iudex of Fontaine.

He once saw a quote in a popular novel that was making the rounds. “To become God is the loneliest achievement of them all,” whilst he does not recall the contents of the book, the sentiment of the line rings true, especially now that he has regained his authority.

While he and Furina did not spend much time together whilst they were performing their duties, she was a constant presence that he knew was always there. Much like a tree you would pass by everyday on your morning commute, or the singing of birds at dawn. An ever present figure whose loss is sudden and to an effect irreplaceable. 

He finds himself missing her, sometimes.

Not that he dares let Sedene and the others know, else they’ll enact some kind of plot to get him to go out and meet more people. 

But there was a comfort in knowing that she, just like him, was alone in their positions and would serve Fontaine to the very end.

Not that he dares disturb her well earned retirement, nor does he wish to retire himself. 

It was simply,

A shame.

The melusines were the closest equivalent to his dragon kin that he has had over the centuries, and will most likely continue to be for many to come. For as much as their presence filled him with happiness, they do not, and he hopes never will, understand what it truly means to be a dragon.

To be the last survivor of the original people of Teyvat, crushed under the heel of the Usurper king and their shades. 

To have to live amongst their people, knowing that while humans are innocent, their creation was built upon the bloodshed and suffering of his people.

There is a unique sense of cruelty in her actions, he reflected, fitting for the successor of one of the usurpers.

Whilst he has no doubt she meant it as an honor, taking him in, raising him to the highest scene of this land, giving him the highest seat of power and eventually returning to him his authority after watching her death.

There were moments, especially when he first took on the mantle and was trying to prove himself worthy of the title, that we would stare out at the people of Fountaine and wonder why he was doing this.

Humans were the reason for the destruction of his people. The Usurper King, sought out this world and destroyed it and it’s civilization so that a new one could be created in place of it. So that humans could be created in place of it. 

Human are the reason why his people, why the dragons were destroyed, they were the reason behind all the suffering and pain his kin have gone through and yet.

Yet they were still innocent.

They did not participate in the war.

They did not ask to be created.

They did not deserve to be punished for the sins of their creator.

However that does not make it any easier to stomach.

There is a peculiar sense of humiliation, to be worshiped alongside those who have destroyed your brethren. To serve and protect the beloved children of those who caused him and his people great harm.

It is a cruel and angry part of him that he does not dwell on much.

He cannot, lest it overrule all his rational sensibilities.

Humans are not inherently cruel beings. They are curious passionate creatures who love and care for each other deeply, who are compassionate and curious at their very core. 

Whilst during his reign as Iudex, he has seen a great deal of human cruelty and evil, he has also witnessed selfless acts of kindness and compassion. 

It is the duality of human nature that strikes him so. He cannot blame them for acts they are innocent of, but neither can he proclaim them to be free of all responsibility.

Truly the most vexing case he has ever dealt with.

Especially since,

Neuvillete frowned as he rubbed at his chest, feeling where the small spark of divine blessing lay within him. 

As the reborn Hydro dragon he does not have access to all the memories of his previous incarnations. As such his knowledge of the previous Dragon Sovereigns and the Creator of Teyvat remains incomplete.

But what he does know, what he does remember, is warmth.

The same warmth that now resides in his chest and on his very self.

He does not remember having many interactions with the creator of Teyvat, knowing that the greatest of interactions lay between the Fromitable Dragon Father himself, and the creator of this great realm. 

 He had assumed that they had abandoned Teyvat, abandoned the dragons. He’d have preferred that to be in case rather than the harrowing alternative of their defeat and possible imprisonment at the hands of the Usurper king.

But deep in his heart he knew that not to be the case.

“A creator cannot abandon their world”, King Nibelung had proclaimed, their Dragon Father was the one who knew the most about their creator after all, he had no reason to dispute such a fact.

 Worlds are much akin to terrariums, whilst on the surface it may seem completely self dependent and a skilled enough botanist may even be able to create one that can last years without any need for direct intervention, but even terrariums need light.

They require the sun to nourish its plants and create the water cycle, for all it may seem self sufficient it requires the energy of the world outside it’s glass container. 

That is very much the situation of Teyvat.

For as much as Teyvat seems to have taken care of itself, the world is breaking. Ley lines disorders have become more and more common, abyssal energy roams around, attaching itself to unsuspecting creatures. Bodies of dead gods spread harmful miasma around, polluting the earth.

If the creator wanted to destroy Teyvat, it would be as simple as cutting off the power of the Leylines, putting out the sun, or any myriad of actions that would destroy this very world.

They did not, instead they still provided this terrarium with bits of light. Enough for it to survive, but not enough to thrive. 

They still cared enough for Teyvat to sustain it, but not enough to intervene when it so clearly was struggling.

The creator he knew was not like that, they took no pleasure in toying around with others.

The only explanation for this was that they lacked the power to give Teyvat the help it so truly required. 

That realization was horrifying.

Nauvillete could only sit and wallow in his own helplessness as he watched the situation in Teyvat decline over the centuries.

Until,

Well,

Until the Traveler,

The witness from beyond the stars.

They have been given a great many titles in their journey through Teyvat, and have undoubtedly more than earned all of them. 

What he did not realize, is that they also had another title, unbeknownst to all.

A title given by a presence beyond all that they’ve encountered.

A title that they most likely did not even know of themselves.

The Creator's ∎∎∎∎

They carried the essence of the creator within them, it was clear they were beloved, it was clear that they were back.

The creator had come back.

And they were kind.

A part of Neuvillette feared that they would be much like King Nibelung, furious and desperate to do anything to drive out those that did not belong on Teyvat.

Perhaps they were at some point, but it seems that that point is not now.

The Traveler that acted with their blessing was kind,

They cared for those around them, human and non-human alike.

But they were not naive, willing to dispense justice upon those who deserved it.

If this was the person the creator chose to represent their will, perhaps their return will be much more peaceful than their disappearance.

Neuvillette had contented himself with that thought back then, throwing himself into his works as he had to deal with the threat that was the prophecy.

Little did he know that with time, the creator would bless him in much the same way.

The same blessing that sits in his chest at this very moment.

It has been months since he had been blessed as well as the completion of the prophecy. A selfish part of him wished that he would receive more since then.

Through his investigation he has seen many others, being blessed just as he had, gaining strength and power beyond their previous limits. 

But they were not dragons.

They were not the creator’s original creation, their children.

Is it unfair for him to hope that he’d be treated differently. 

Perhaps, the age of dragons had long passed already, and humans have dominated so much of this world that it is hard to deny that they are the driving force behind Teyvat.

But still,

He hoped,

He prayed,

Until,

The skies glowed.

Not the stars, mind you,

The sky

It was akin to the opposite of a solar eclipse, the night turning into day.

A surge of energy filled his body.

Not like when he regained his authority, that one was a wave of pure power cascading upon his person, placing responsibilities and burden on his shoulders alike.

This one was kind, gentle, hopeful, excited.

Is this what it feels like to take drugs, Neuvillette thought faintly.

Synth was incredibly popular on the market for its ability to create unprecedented euphoria in its users. If this is what those people felt then he understood why they were willing to go to such methods to achieve this feeling.

“My child,” the power crooned, wrapping itself around him, embracing him with all the tenderness of a loving parent,

His mouth formed the words he could not bring himself to say,

The power purred with reassurance, erasing pains and aches that he didn’t even know he had, before fading from his body.

His arms reached out in desperation, hoping to capture that feeling again to no avail.

Their presence was gone,

But their blessing remained

It certainly remained and it was stronger than ever, this power surge he feels is akin to receiving his full authority once more. 

Whilst many worries and doubts he had about the future still remained, one thing was made clear.

He was beloved, he was wanted, and the creator would keep him safe.

~~~~~~

Let me know what you think! I love reading your comments and feel free to send me asks about it as well!

#genshin impact sagau #genshin sagau #sagau #genshin impact

[leam1983]

Lisan al-Ghaib

The Hellsite has a thing against White Savior narratives, and for good reason. The idea that general-purpose Natives have some elixir for mindfulness, mental health or even sociopolitical stability is nothing new. It's as tokenistic as you think if you take it at face value, but I think the more classic examples in the genre like Dances With Wolves or, God forbid, Avatar (a revised copy of the previous title, in many ways) tend to focus on something that's a smidge more positive - namely in that the Other - not the Noble Savage, so much as someone with an entirely external perspective - has the power to help us progress. A very debatable posture.

In effect, the classic examples in the genre contend that it's not really about "saving the Natives" or even becoming their saviour, but rather about the unformed or troubled protagonist finding themselves thanks to the Natives' input. I've always thought that Wolves' Sioux never needed Dubar, Dunbar needed them. The Na'vi never needed Jake Sully, some other member of the people would've eventually filled in the blanks and become Toruk Makto. Instead, Jake Sully needed the Na'vi to fix himself. There's nothing magical there, despite the First Nations spiritualism that mostly coats the genre, ripped out of its context and sort of propped up the same way mindfulness is now pulled out of its own context and served up to the masses, as if living with a little anxiety or stress were somehow a symptom for something more insidious. The world forgot Herbert's object lesson, and suggested that for some people, especially damaged goods, the only way to find purpose is to subsume yourself in another culture. You emerge as the saviour, kill the monster, and fulfill your role in the story.

Taking up someone else's problems to fix yourself isn't an actual solution; I think any two-bit psychologist could tell you that. Even if Dunbar and Sully emerge whole and healed from their own tales, they're behavioural abnormalities. Power doesn't allow you to stay humble. Power corrupts.

Ask Shaddad. Ask the Bene Gesserit. Ask the Harkonnens, who never saw their end coming.

Back when Frank Herbert first wrote Dune, Eastern mysticism was taking off much in the same way we're seeing meditation and yoga. He pulled an interesting bait-and-switch in showing us a protagonist who seemed set to go from a mostly nameless aristocrat to your typical conquering hero - but he realized that some faiths can be noxious. Some currents can twist the mind. After all, Paul Atreides' own stories addresses the fact that he comes to align with fundamentalists, and does so willingly.

In many ways, George Lucas tried to play the same melody with Anakin Skywalker being set up as the Force's hero, only for the will of the Galaxy to be made manifest through his son, instead. The problem is, unlike Herbert, Lucas lacks subtlety. The danger of messianic thinking more or less deserves a dream-state vignette on Dagobah, where Luke beheads Vader and sees his own face in the depths of his father's mask. Herbert, in comparison, makes those fears concrete. Paul was on shaky ground the moment he embraced the moniker of Muad'Dib, and slipped into something I might as well call psychosis, after drinking the Waters of Life.

Chani lost the man she fell in love with. Paul Atreides lost himself.

White Savior narratives aren't meant to be seen as the Civilized Man saving the day. They're meant to be seen as an outsider protagonist needing an external point of view to face the abyss, more or less.

If you're an optimist, the protagonist is thankful for the wisdom he's received and plays his part, not for prophecy or for Ego - but for basic care and consideration. Consider Shogun's Blackthorne, by the end of the series. He wasn't one to calculate his next move - he's clearly a man of passion. Japan gave him something to hold onto - and then squeezed around him like a vice made up of niceties and political manoeuvring. Yoshii Toranaga, on the other hand, is the chess player. Blackthorne's fate is the grimmest of the brighter ends of the White Savior genre. He didn't save anyone or anything; he merely proved useful.

If you're a pessimist, you turn to Dune or to any of your local Fire-and-Brimstone preachers.

Considering, when I hear the Hellsite dismiss Dune as just another story written by a White guy about some other White guy saving some vaguely Middle-Eastern-coded people; that tells me a lot of armchair critics haven't picked up the books or watched the movies.

If anything, Dune's very premise gives reason to those of you who decry Colonialist rhetoric. Dune isn't just a seminal science-fiction classic; it's also a warning about what happens when faith goes haywire, and of what happens when the balance of power tips in the worst direction possible.

#frank herbert #dune #shogun #dances with wolves #avatar #jake sully #yoshii toranaga #paul atreides #thoughts

[lilyharvord]

I need people to understand that my hyperfixation ships are limited to one thing: a man who is usually in full control of himself meeting 1 woman and losing complete and utter control over absolutely everything he does.

I just like to watch when they go full feral for a woman who could literally chew them up and spit them out, but choses to let them stick around because I don't know, it's nice to have someone carrying their bag or whatever.

#red queen #mare did this twice over so she gets double points #this is why I adore Marecal #I am forever feral over the line: I will protect you as long as I can #AND: I thought of you in the end I saw your face in the water #THAT MAN IS RIDICULOUS FOR THAT. He did not need to go around re-inventing love #cause I mean... man was a full blood prince with “responsibilities” and he seriously fell apart over a woman who was 5'2“ #and dont even get me started On kanthony #I am unironically obsessed with the scene in the library and the line: AND IT IS NOT FAR ENOUGH #ridiculous that this man sniffed the air behind her as she walked by #like sir you are in HEAT stop it XD #and of course i could never forget about Delilah Bard and Kell Marsh #holy shit talk about a man with his life in order who met one woman and became so fucking smitten he spent a whole book low key crying #about her being gone and then getting stupidly excited over seeing her again #and then left his brother behind to go sail on a boat with her XD when she clearly only keeps him around for minimal purposes #I swear to god I went FERAL OVER “there is no where you can go” said the Antari to her prince “that I cannot follow” #SHUT UP she loves him so much😭😭😭😭😭😭 and she refused to admit it to him #a darker shade of magic #fragile threads of power

[sutorus]

THE GRUDGE PROFESSOR!GETO for KINKTOBER 2023!

DESCRIPTION: everybody loves professor geto, and judging by the thousands of viewers you get on every live, a lot of people love you, too. but you and professor geto hate each other. you’ve had enough of his humiliation rituals, and decide to do something about it.

PAIRING: mean professor!geto x student!reader

WC: 5.3k i am an unstoppable beast

WARNINGS: 18+ MINORS DNI. fem reader, afab reader, teacher/student dynamic! adult age gap! (reader is in college, unspecified age), sw/camgirl!reader (don’t like don’t read! no shaming 😤), strong language, dirty talk, pet names (sweetheart, baby, angel, darling), reader calling geto "sir", unprotected relations, creampie, afab reader and terms

A/N: this switches between povs a lot so i hope that’s okay or at least readable lol! also i set out to write him so much meaner but he’s just kind of a simp... enjoy?

reblogs are very much appreciated i'll uwu for u :pleading eyes emoji:

it is said that those who cannot do, teach. 

geto suguru could have done many things. he had the brains, the muscles, the features, the traits. the ambition to succeed in any field he desired. satoru says in a world ruled by the strong there is no place for humility. 

but humility is not why suguru became a teacher. neither is ineptitude. no, he’d become a teacher because it was the right thing to do. 

to use his gifts to help shape new generations, help unlock potentials long dorment and buried deep under years of a lackluster schooling system. geto suguru prided himself, above all, in being a righteous man. 

but japan’s most upstanding citizen for 28 years in a row held a shameful secret. a secret in the shape of you. 

he saw the darkest sides of himself on your face (eyebrows scrunched, eyes shut tightly, jaw slack as you—), your voice (higher in pitch with desperate moans that sound almost scared on the brink of your—), your body (taut and plump in all the right places, glistening with sweat, bouncing up and down on a—). 

when you walked into his classroom that fateful day, the world tilted on its axis. his first thought was, fuck, then, it can’t be, then, most embarrassing of all, i’ll finally find out what she smells like. 

(he did, when you went up to his desk to hand over your test. a whiff of vanilla, argon oil shampoo. too sweet, too youthful. and he’d watched you leave, tennis skirt flowing like a water lily, dick already chubby in his pants.)

it was slowly starting to consume him.

the first time you spoke in class, he knew he hadn’t been mistaken. it was really you. the cute, slutty girl he’d been milking his cock to for the better part of a year. 

god, when you finally said his name. you would never in your wildest dreams think that he’d been imagining those words coming out of your mouth, of him coming out of your mouth, dripping out of you, all over you—

he was losing it. this was not like him. this was never supposed to happen, and he has to put an end to it. 

everybody knew of geto suguru, the prodigy professor. already getting a phd despite not even being 30, handling the administrative slack for the department while managing office hours every day of the week, promoting student events, helping organize spirit weeks and charity drives. 

everything he did, he did for others. those not as capable as him — which was most people. in other words, it was really, really hard to hate him. 

but you damn well managed to. 

and to think you were excited to take his class. everybody told you to run, not walk, to sign up for his twentieth-century Japanese philosophy chair. 

“oh, professor geto is just the best,” they’d said. “he makes it sound so interesting and engaging, he gives the most life changing assignments, he really cares about us.”

bullshit. 

the first time you stepped into that classroom, suspiciously full for a philosophy class, you felt a shift in the air almost immediately. 

and sure enough, professor geto suguru was eyeing you down like he’d just seen a ghost. it made you self conscious, like he’d taken one look at you and decided right then and there you were too dumb for the class. 

it made your blood boil. sure, you stood out a little bit from the actual philosophy majors, but that doesn’t mean he gets to judge you. he literally doesn’t know you!

but fine, first impressions are tricky like that. for all you knew, you could’ve been misjudging him right there. 

however, with each passing day, you grew more and more assured in your suspicions.

you knew the man had it out for you, always calling on you to answer when he knew you weren’t paying attention, never grading your papers above a B even though you did everything right, somehow managing to fucking avoid you during his excessive office hours. 

his looks were almost the most infuriating part of it.

his beautiful face constantly set in that nonchalant look, his big veiny hands always gesticulating, his huge fucking arms straining the fabric of those dress shirts, his ear gauges and man bun contrasting the prim and proper image the rest of him conveyed. 

under different circumstances, he’d make your mouth water. under different circumstances, you’d imagine him going down on you all night long, singing praise about how good you taste and how tight you are. 

but in this timeline, you absolutely loathed him. and he loathed you too. why? you didn’t know. 

but you knew for a fact that it was personal. 

“i don’t care,” megumi said around a mouthful of meatball, cutting your monologue short. “i’m not doing it.”

you sigh, melting into your chair. “megumi. please. i am literally begging you, i just need some hard evidence so i can go report his ass.”

he eyes you curiously. “report him for what?”

“i don’t know. bullying? sexism? whatever the hell his problem is,” you pick at your food, huffing in annoyance. 

“you’re overthinking it,” megumi replies, dismissively. 

“okay, how about this,” you lean forward, putting an elbow on the table. “if you write the assignment for me, i’ll get your dog that expensive halloween costume you’ve been wanting.”

megumi lifts an eyebrow. 

“you need to get one for each,” he says simply. 

you grin. “deal.”

suguru really does give it his all to make your life with him a living hell. pulls out all the stops, years of friendship with gojo satoru paying off as he comes up with ploy after ploy to get you to drop his class. 

it feels bad, being mean to you. but for the hidden, twisted parts of him, it feels delicious. 

watching you huff and puff, all hot and bothered when he corrects your answers on the spot. watching you nibble on your pen at the increasingly difficult exams he hands out. letting himself wonder if you missed a stream this week because you were too busy cramming for a make up test. 

he knows he’s pushing you to your limit, and even if there’s some sort of sick satisfaction in seeing you so agitated at his hands when it’s usually the other way around, he doesn’t enjoy upsetting you. 

the problem is, suguru knows it’s either he gets his shit together or he continues tormenting you, and, well. 

the spirit is willing but the flesh is so, so weak. 

he knows it’s getting worse, too, because he’s not infatuated by you only when you’re undressing on his screen, or all dolled up in class. 

when you tie your hair up in a ponytail, when you suck on a hangnail, when you lick your thumb to erase a smudge on your paper… all of it drives him wild. 

he can’t teach with a permanent half chub anymore. this has to end, one way or another. 

you sit down in front of your computer, adjusting the camera before turning it on. soon, viewers start trickling in, little dings notifying you of their messages. 

you smile, waving at the screen. 

“hi everyone! i know i’m a little bit late today, i hope you can forgive me…” your eyes scan the chat, giggling at the compliments. “‘you look tired, sad face’, ah. i’m sorry. i guess i’ve been a little stressed lately.”

your robe falls over your shoulder as you readjust your position. a few donations come in, accompanied by supportive messages.

“you guys are so nice. it’s not a big deal, it’s just this dude giving me a hard time at college.” 

you absentmindedly trace your collarbones, reading what your viewers are saying. 

“you’ll kill him for me? that’s so sweet,” you joke. “nah, it’s not a student. it’s a professor. exactly, ynlover444, a grown ass man picking on me!”

you sigh deeply, allowing your body to finally unwind and relax on your chair. you prop a knee up against the armrest, giving your viewers a little peek in between your legs. you’re wearing one of your favorite sets, trying to get in the mood after the week you’ve had. 

“ugh, sometimes i wish i could just…” you suck in a breath, clenching your hand into a fist before releasing it. “sit on his face and get him to shut up, you know?”

you laugh at the countless me firsts that flood the chat, bringing a finger to your lip. 

“anyway! enough about that horrible man,” you reach beside you to grab a box your viewers know all too well by now. “let’s get to the fun stuff, shall we?”

as always, satoru is no help. 

“why don’t you just fuck her?” he asks, eyebrows arching above his sunglasses. “ya gotta just fuck her.”

suguru clears his throat before taking a drag of his cigarette. “i’m not fucking a student.”

satoru shrugs. “everybody does it. besides, you basically already do.” 

suguru wonders, not for the first time, why he ever told his friend about his situation. about your streams, that he’d stumbled upon randomly and innocently and had gotten instantly hooked, about you barging into his classroom like an angel at hell’s gates, about you you you you, everything about you. 

“that won’t fix anything.”

satoru clicks his tongue, swirling his soda inside the can.

“poor, naive suguru. did you not just tell me about what she said on her stream?" and yes, regrettably, suguru had told him. "it’ll fix everything.”

suguru doesn’t even let himself consider it, except he does.

at this point it’s no secret that he’s thought about being inside you, but now that you’re here it’s just too real and too risky and completely fucking wrong. 

it goes against the entire life he’s built for himself. 

he’s lost. he wants you so fucking bad, wants you close, wants you so far away, wants to ravage you and never have to see you again. 

it’s fight or flight. if he got you alone, it could go either way, he realizes that. 

suguru wonders what part of him will win by the end of all of this. 

your heels clack on the linoleum floor of the hallway as you approach professor geto’s classroom, megumi’s graded paper clutched tightly against your chest. 

the thing about megumi is that he's a star student. he’s never gotten anything below an A on any of his essays, makes the dean’s list every year, tutors his seniors. so the big, bright B- on the page tells you everything you need to know. 

damn right it’s personal. 

you don’t even bother knocking, slamming the door open while still trying to contain your indignation. 

geto is sitting at his desk, piles of papers sprawled on top. he has his white dress shirt rolled up to his elbows and a surprised look on his face that would be cute if you didn’t want to slap it right off. 

he says your last name like he’d been expecting you all his life.

“to what do i owe the pleasure?”

your jaw clenches as you take a few loud steps towards him. you slam megumi’s paper down on his desk, leaning over. 

“professor geto, i demand an explanation. a real one, this time.”

the man takes a deep breath, lips twisting disapprovingly. he smoothes the paper over.

“as i already explained in my notes right here, the structure is fine, but i couldn’t help but miss a more in-depth analysis of the four nodal concerns of philosophy that we talked about in class, such as—“

“no,” you interrupt. “just no. you know you’re bullshitting me and i’m sick of it. this paper deserved an A!”

“miss—“

“what’s your problem with me?” you spit out. your eyes finally meet and there’s nothing in geto’s that could answer your question. your chest is heaving, lips wobbling and hands shaking, trying to contain your anger. 

geto clears his throat, visibly uncomfortable. “like i said, your paper could’ve used a bit more—“

“no it fucking couldn’t have, because it’s not my fucking paper, it’s fushiguro’s fucking paper and the only reason you gave it a B is because i was the one who handed it in!”

he sits up, straightening his posture.

geto sounds austere when he asks, “do you realize how much trouble this could be for both of you if i reported it?”

you can’t believe this man. he’s been picking on you the entire semester and when you finally confront him about it this is what he chooses to focus on. 

“are you fucking kidding me?” that earns you a stern look from him, eyebrow raising taller than that fucking high horse he sits on. “professor geto. what did i ever do to you?”

there must be something earnest in your voice because geto sighs, getting up from his chair. 

he walks until he’s standing in front of you, leaning against his desk and crossing his feet. 

“do i bother you?” is all he says. it surprises you. 

you jut your chin out. “as a matter of fact, you do.”

the man hums. 

“i bet that’s really difficult for you,” he speaks like he’s sympathetic, like he understands. he sounds almost sheepish when he says, “i bet sometimes you wish i would just shut up.”

you blink rapidly. “no, it’s not like that. it might shock you but i genuinely do enjoy your class, it’s just that—“

“or maybe you wish you could shut me up,” he continues, ignoring you. “maybe going as far as to say that you could… sit on my face to get me to shut up.” 

your mouth goes dry.

before your brain can fully process the shift in the atmosphere or the fact that your professor is maybe possibly hitting on you, you realize where those words are coming from. 

it’s what you said. about him. on stream. right before fucking yourself on your hot pink dildo. 

you can’t speak, can barely even look in his general direction. 

you had really thought things couldn’t get any worse. had barged into his office with nothing to lose, almost hoping he would cordially invite you to remove yourself from his class permanently. 

but now? now you have no idea what’s going to happen to you. 

“i…” you start, the words dying in your throat. geto chuckles, crossing his fat fucking muscly arms across his chest. 

he says your name, low and syrupy. “is it true? you’d like to?”

you can feel your face flush hot in embarrassment, and you shift your weight from one foot to the other, wishing desperately that you’d never walked into his classroom. 

you have half the mind to apologize to him, right now.

“it’s just a figure of speech,” you try. geto clicks his tongue. 

“what a shame.”

your wide eyes shoot up and meet his. “w-what?”

he smiles sweetly. 

“it’s a peace offering. you can take it, or we can forget you ever said anything,” and isn’t he just so slimey, actually, when he’s the one who brought it up. he had said it, and now… 

now you can finally allow yourself to look at him.

those delicious, broad shoulders, the ever-present bored look, the stubborn fringe that falls out of his bun. 

you could so easily forget what you came here for. 

“so, like, a truce?” you ask, taking a daring step forward. geto nods, uncrossing his arms. “and you stop treating me like i’m fucking dumb?”

he tilts his head. “i think you’re a very smart young lady. determined. entrepreneurial…”

“geto—“

“professor geto,” he corrects you, hands reaching out to graze your hips. “you’re intelligent. i just like to push my students.”

you both know that’s a lie, but it’s okay, because now you know exactly why you got under his skin and it makes your own burn. 

you run a hand down the line of buttons on the front of his shirt, looking up at him through your eyelashes. 

“then… push me, professor.”

it’s so incredibly lame, the porn line you hit him with, but to your surprise it works, a low groan rumbling deep in geto’s chest. 

he swiftly closes the distance between the two of you, grabbing both sides of your face and crashing your lips together. 

it’s ravenous, the way geto dips his tongue inside when you gasp in surprise. you moan against his mouth, slipping a leg in between his two. 

he’s half hard already when he rubs up against your thigh. 

geto picks you up with ease and sets you down on his desk, and it’s so fucking cliché, the papers crinkling under your weight, the pens clattering to the floor. but it turns you on beyond belief. 

you share a few open mouthed kisses, an exchange of tongue and moans and hot breaths between your lips. 

if you were honest with yourself, you'd admit that you've fantasized about it before. a silly idea, at first, something you'd just blurted out mid-stream.

but that little seed had been planted, and when you got yourself off that night, you might've imagined for a moment that it was your mean professor's cock squeezed tight inside you, making you come undone.

geto slips his hands under your skirt, grabbing your ass and pulling you closer to him. you line up your crotch with his, moving your hips in tight little circles that make the both of you groan. 

his fingers are tugging your underwear down, down, the soft patch sticking to your gooey cunt. he lets the soaked fabric dangle from your ankle, grazing the back of his knuckles on your core. 

“mmm, fuck,” geto breaks the kiss, swallowing. his pretty lips are flushed and shiny, parted around his panted breaths. “you always get this wet or am i special?”

he’s smirking, the bastard, leaning back in to kiss your neck.

god, you smell so good, like lotion and perfume and sunshine and sin. 

“shouldn’t you know?” you sneak your fingers up into his bun, pushing your chest against him. he works his lips expertly on your skin, using just the right amount of teeth, of pressure.

geto hums against your neck, kissing a line up to your jaw. he snakes a hand under your skirt, thumb pressing down hard to rub on your clit, two fingers slipping inside. 

you immediately clench, a soft, drawn out mewl leaving your lips. 

the slide of his fingers against your walls send a chill down your spine, filling you up so perfectly. you feel the thin skin at your opening stretch around him, burning at the friction as his fingers plunge in and out of you. 

“god, look at that,” he rests his forehead on your shoulder and pulls the hem of your skirt up. “do you hear that, baby? so fucking wet for me.”

you whine, hands cupping his jaw so you can kiss him again. 

“please…” you mumble against his lips. “more…”

you wonder how much of what you can say he's heard before, which exact words have left your lips and sent him over the edge. it makes you self conscious, oddly, like he can see right through you.

not-so-kindly ignoring your request, geto removes his fingers, bringing them up to his mouth.

you watch as his eyelids flutter in pleasure, a hum rumbling low in his throat. 

he looks so good like this, just edible.

you pull him in for a kiss before he can, relishing in the surprised little noise he lets out. your knees are wobbling, feet dangling from your seat as you taste yourself on his tongue. 

he swallows your moan hungrily, forearms trembling with the need to hold back.

geto knows this is wrong, so wrong on so many levels, puts both your positions in jeopardy, it makes him feel perverted and primal and so fucking alive. 

he’s been watching you fuck yourself on those silly toys for god knows how long now, knows every spot that makes your hips buck, knows exactly how to make you cream like a debased slut around a cock. 

it should feel unfair, how easy it’s going to be for him to make you cum, only if it weren’t for the fact that your mere presence is enough to get him hard as fucking diamonds. 

“tastes good, huh?” he whispers, thumb caressing your chin. you nod, smiling devilishly. 

“tastes better on your tongue, prof.” 

geto groans low like a starved animal, holding your throat in his hand with a loose grip. he’s overwhelmed, that much shows, not knowing what to do with you or where to start. but there’s one thing he’s sure of. 

he presses one last kiss to your spit-slick lips before dropping to his knees. 

you can hardly believe it. sulky, big bad bully professor geto suguru on his knees for you. you prop a foot up on his desk, your sole skidding on a piece of paper. 

“scoot closer, please,” he asks, cordial even like this. you bring your ass to the edge of the desk, your dripping pussy hovering over his face. 

he looks so good under you, hair already disheveled, a delicious tent in his tailored pants. 

you tuck the hem of your skirt into the waistline so you can watch as he sucks your clit into his mouth, moaning like he’s fucking relieved. 

you throw your head back, fingers buried in his silky hair as geto’s fingers find their way back inside. 

he fucks them in and out of you lazily, pushing out strings of slick. geto slurps it all up, spreading your wetness all over your clit and sucking it back in his mouth. 

god, his cock is straining in his pants but he doesn’t dare touch it, can’t until he’s inside you. you taste like fucking heaven, like all his fantasies, like he always knew you would. 

you’re whining softly, bucking your hips into his face almost shyly, as to disrupt his pace.

you sound so much better in person, although he can’t wait to have you moaning into his ear without needing the headphones. 

“god, this perfect pussy,” geto mumbles into you, his breathing labored. he runs a thumb all over your cunt, gliding it over your soaked lips. “been dreaming about it for so long.”

“yeah?” you ask. “tell me. tell me how you stroke your cock to me every night.”

and every night might be overselling it. geto is a busy man. 

but your words do make him realize that no girl he’s had since he found your stream has satisfied him quite like you do. your flirty smile, your moans, the way they sometimes turn into uncontained giggles as you stuff your pretty cunt with a dildo. 

so he tells you, blush spreading across his cheeks. 

“fuck, i do,” he tongues your clit, tracing lazy circles. “i do. just look what you do to me.“

and there it is, that cheeky, slutty giggle, directed at something he said this time. 

he takes his fingers out, spreading your opening with both thumbs as he licks you all over. 

geto gulps, tongue dipping inside of you, sucking your clit into his mouth, sliding down to your entrance, every clench of your pussy pushing out more and more slick for him. no one's ever eaten you out as thoroughly as this.

“oh, fuck, sir,” it slips out casually, the way it would were you talking to any other professor. but given the circumstances, you revel in the deep moan geto buries into your cunt. 

you trap your lips between your teeth to keep anything else from tumbling out, but it’s useless.

“please, sir, i’m so close—so close just keep doing that, yeah just like that—“

“fuck,” he mumbles, pulling away to suck in a desperate breath. then, “fuck,” sultrier, right into your core. 

you grind against his face, finding purchase in his hair as a final few flicks of his tongue push you right into the crest of a mind-numbing orgasm.

it’s so good, so much better than when you're alone. the friction so perfect, his long, thick fingers plugging you up last minute to viciously fuck into you. 

“god…,” you breathe out, legs trembling as he runs his hands up your thighs. 

his chin is glistening, bubbles of spit and cum gathering in the corner of his mouth. he looks so good like this, like he was meant to please you and nothing else. 

geto feels like a fucking teenager, so goddamn close to busting in his pants at the sight of you. his dick hurts, balls tight and the head throbbing where it’s tucked into his underwear. 

“please, sweetheart,” he can’t hold himself back any longer, slick fingers already undoing his belt. 

you get to work on his zipper, pulling his pants down along with his underwear and damn. 

you figured he was big. he was a tall man, broad shoulders, shoes the size of a yacht, and the bulge in his trousers was a pretty good indication. but it couldn’t have prepared you for the sheer size of him. 

longer than it is thick, cleanly shaven, pretty veins and ridges and standing angry red in attention. god, you want it inside you. 

he notices you looking. 

“do you need more prep? i can—“

“no, fuck no, suguru, need it inside me now,” you wrap a hand around him and he hisses, caging you in with his arms on the desk. 

he huffs out a laugh, blowing the fringe framing his face. “what happened to sir?”

you kiss down his jaw, squeezing right below his tip. 

“sorry, sir,” you say against his ear. “are you going to punish me for my slip up?”

geto groans, pulling on your hair hard and making you face him. 

“take your shirt off for me,” he instructs, and you obey, maneuvering around his tight grip on the back of your head. 

his spirit is so unbreakable.

here you are, teasing him, coaxing him to rough you up, push you around, relieve both your frustrations properly once and for all, but he’s just so… adoring, and hungry, and just so irrevocably into you, and you find out that’s so much better. 

geto relents his hold on you to unclasp your bra, cupping your breasts and sucking a nipple into his mouth. you whine, caressing his hair. 

“so fucking perfect,” he massages your tits, looking mesmerized. 

“yeah? they haven’t gotten old to you yet?”

he laughs, so cute, and you can barely remember that just hours ago you hated the sight of him. you stroke his cock up and down, squeezing harder at the tip trying to milk all that delicious pre he’s been wasting on the inside of his boxers. 

“no, f-fuck—never gonna get old,” he pushes your boobs against each other, imagining his cock sliding in between them, his balls nestled underneath, his load blown all over your pretty face—

fuck, he’s gonna cum if he keeps going like this. 

he rips your hand away from him, ignoring your knowing smirk and pushing his tongue into your mouth. 

“i’m gonna fuck you now, okay, sweetheart?” you moan, nodding, shimmying your hips so he can have the perfect angle. 

a big hand clasps your thigh to wrap your leg around his hips as his tip pokes around your entrance.

you’re whining in anticipation, clenching around nothing, nails clawing his clothed back. 

when he slips in, it feels like coming home. you’re like warm honey around him, cunt pushing him out but clinging to him at the same time, with every stroke. it’s fucking maddening. 

“ahh, g-god, sir, ‘s too big—“ you swallow around the lump in your throat, feeling the tip of his cock in your guts. 

he’s huffing, concentrated, bullying his cock into you inch by inch with shallow thrusts until he finally bottoms out. 

“fuuuuck, angel,” he grips your waist with both hands, like he could just fuck you up and down his length if he wanted to. “took me so well, look at that.”

you do, dropping your heavy head to look at where you’re connected. you clench around him and he whines, pulling out almost all the way before slamming back in. 

the metal legs of the desk skid on the floor, papers and pens raining down to the floor as geto starts roughly plunging in and out of you. 

you let out little ah, ah, ahs in time with his strokes, the ache deep in your stomach finally starting to fade. 

“f-fuck, you’re gonna—topple us over, suguru, go easy—“

“can’t,” he chokes out, wheezing as he pushes his cock in as far as it can go. 

he gives shallow little thrusts, his length straining the fine skin at your entrance so good, hitting a spot inside you over and over that makes your head spin. 

your fingers twist into the back of his shirt, pulling him in to whine right into his ear.

he’s so big, stretching you out so thin that you feel every ridge and vein, can feel both your heartbeats inside your cunt. 

“ohhhhh fuck, fuck sir, please please touch me—“

he grabs your ass before you can even finish your sentence and presses you flush against his hips. 

geto’s tip is kissing your cervix now, his balls sticky and creamy against your ass, your clit grinding against his pubic bone as his thrusts violently shake the both of you. 

“fuck, wanna do it so fucking loud but i can’t, we can’t, what if someone walks in—“

you moan wantonly at his words, expecting to be chided, but geto seems to love it despite his worries because his cock kicks deliciously inside of you.

“look how loud you’re being, listen to yourself,” he grunts out, the belt pooled around his feet clanging with every stroke, the absolutely lewd squelches from your pussy resonating in the entire classroom. 

you two sound so good together, better than you’ve ever had, better than he could’ve ever imagined. 

“so loud, so wet on this cock,” he spits out, sweaty strands of hair sticking to his forehead. “do those toys make you feel this good? this full? answer me.” 

“hahh, n-no, no one but you,” you can’t think straight, head thrown back in pleasure and eyes squeezed shut. “only you, sir.”

geto whines like he’s aching, pounding into you mercilessly and making a mess under the two of you. 

“fuck yeah, that’s right. i’m making you feel good, baby?”

“mm-hm,” you mumble, tongue lolling out. geto's going so hard now, has you pressed up so tight against him, body caging you in, fucking every breath and thought right out of you. “close.”

“yeah?” he speeds up his effort slightly, and you’re sure he’s going to have desk-edge shaped bruises on his thighs tomorrow. “gonna cum on my cock? cream all over me?”

you let out a long, drawn out whine, tits bouncing up and down with the force of geto’s thrusts. 

“let me see your face when you cum, darling,” he cups the back of your neck, breathing hard through his nose. “keep your eyes on me. that’s right, sweetie, so good, you’re doing so good.”

you preen at the praise, feeling suddenly self conscious with the man's laser focus attention on you. 

you coo out little noises, growing in desperation, holding onto his biceps for dear life as his hips piston in and out of you. 

your pull him into you closer and rub your clit against him, grinding helplessly as your orgasm creeps closer and closer. 

the moment you open your eyes and meet his hungry ones, you’re cumming. your walls spasm around him, making the glide of his dick impossibly wetter with your release. 

geto chokes on a sound, his cock hostage of your pussy’s vice-like grip as your greedy cunt milks him for all he's got. 

“f-fuck, baby, look so pretty when you cum, always look so fucking sexy so fucking perfect that you’re gonna make me bust, i’m gonna cum for you god gonna cum inside, gonna blow my load all deep inside this pussy—“ 

it’s the most desperate he’s ever sounded, speaking through clenched teeth and a soaked mouth. you moan in return, letting him use you. 

he slams his forehead down your shoulder when he thrusts once, twice, three times and cums, his balls drawing up so tight that it hurts. he fucks it into you with shallow thrusts, panting, almost wheezing in pleasure. 

it feels like it lasts forever, his orgasm. like all of the blood in his body goes straight to his balls to push out the thickest, most satisfying nut of his life into the prettiest girl he's ever seen.

you feel it fill you up so good, hear it, too, squelching and sticking to both of you. 

geto’s body slumps against yours and you stay like that for a while, catching your breaths. there’s cum sliding out of you, down his balls, onto some poor student’s essay you have your ass on top of. 

when he pulls out of you, he takes a beat to watch it spill out of you some more, his face and chest red, his smile groggy. 

“god, this,” geto has to fight the urge to say thank you for letting him fuck your brains out. he swallows. 

“yeah,” you blink away the haze, feeling sore and fucked out. “this.”

“…is probably going to happen again, right?”

he knows it shouldn’t. he knows it will.

maybe both parts of geto can learn to coexist.  

you grin, touching the tip of your tongue to his lips. 

“well, i still haven’t made good on that promise of sitting on your face, have i?” 

the next morning, in class, the students erupt in happiness at the news that professor geto had an accident that ended up ruining most of last week’s graded papers he had in his possession. 

so he decided to give everyone an A for their troubles. 

and finally, finally, there was peace in the world.

#OOF. #this was a doozy it feels like sooooo much more than 5k words tbh #i wanted to wait to post it bc im rly proud of it i dont want it to flop but : #i cant resist it i want it out #✩.kinktober #✩.geto #geto suguru smut #geto smut #geto suguru x you #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x y/n #geto suguru x reader smut #geto suguru x you smut #geto x you smut #geto x reader smut #ummm what else #jujutsu kaisen smut #tw power dynamics #jjk smut #kinktober #jjk kinktober #geto reader smut #✩.tw power dynamics #✩.petra.doc #geto suguru x female reader #geto x female reader

[m0chaminx]

Coriolanus Snow | “What about you?” “She's the star.” “Luckily I Like Roses.”

*•.¸♡Request: omg can you write a coryo x reader, i don’t mind what, just pls don’t make him go batshit crazy at the end😩😩

*•.¸♡Prompts: none

*•.¸♡Warnings: Coriolanus, I completely forgot the other Covey peoples names :I, reader is shorter than Snow, Cori isn't insane (ish), Snow is slight ooc, and yes he's a terrible person but you’re here too

*•.¸♡Paring: Coriolauns Snow x F!reader

*•.¸♡Summary: On Coriolanus’s trip down to the lake with the star Lucy Gray, he found the most beautiful rose ever seen

Or

Coriolanus pervs on you while swimming (romantic)

*•.¸♡Words: 1.1k

Part 2

Growing up in the Covey had been a stroke of luck, simple as it gets, when Lucy Gray Baird and her family had been forced into District 12 Seeing the talent you had with a guitar one night as you played to the darkness, they took you to their next show where you played alongside Lucy Gray. She was still the star, she had the smile, the voice, the charisma. You could sing when you needed to, and you played the guitar just as well, but she always took the spotlight. And when she strolled into town after winning the Hunger Games, that star power only grew. She was the star, until one sunny morning.

Mockingjay's sang into the wind, the warm sun beating against your skin and the gentle breeze made your sundress flow in the wind. Meeting Lucy and the others on the walk to the lake you came face to face with Coriolanus Snow. Buzzed blonde hair, sharp jawline and the bluest eyes you had ever seen. His smile was bright, and his laugh was as sweet as Lucy’s singing. And it should be, he was laughing at her jokes. Smiling at her. Before he could catch you staring your eyes had shifted quickly, focussing on Lucy as you walked to her side.

She beamed as she saw you, wrapping her arms tightly around you.

“Coriolanus, I want you to meet only the bestest person in the world,” Lucy went on, kissing you quickly on the cheek.

The same smile returned as he turned to shake your hand, his skin soft on your calloused palms. “It’s nice to finally meet you.” He spoke your name softly, the syllables dripping from his tongue like honey. Your hand slipped from his, the tips of his fingers running along your palm.

Lucy quickly ushered you and the rest of the group on, starting the long hike down the green hills. Lucy walked ahead with Aurora, talking wistfully into the wind. You walked in silence, one hand gripping the strap of your satchel as you watched the critters race up the branches of the trees.

“Lucy said you played the guitar,” Coriolanus spoke up, swatting away another mosquito. He walked beside you, his tall figure blocking the sun from your face. He looked down at you, his eyebrows furrowing slightly. “Why didn’t I see you performing last night?”

You simply shrugged. The answer was the crowds didn’t cheer for you, Lucy was the star, and she could play for hours without backup. But it sounded sad. You looked over the trees, the Mockingjay's flying higher into the trees. “Nothing special, you probably just missed me when I left.”

Coriolanus shook his head softly, “I feel like I’d remember you.” You couldn’t place what Coriolanus meant, your eyebrows furrowing as you thought over his words. You didn't say anything more after that, keeping your eyes ahead on the track leading to the lake.

As soon as the dock was close enough Aurora and Tip had stripped their clothes off and thrown themselves in the water. You tossed your bag down, the hot sun that had beat against your skin had made you more than happy to rush into the water. Tossing your sundress aside with your satchel you ran down the dock and dove under the crystal blue water. The cool lake chilled your skin enough to relieve the sun but not enough to raise goosebumps.

You swam up to the surface, pushed the hair back for your face and fixed the straps of your handmade bra that slid down your shoulder. Lucy jumped in after you, and with a yell, Coriolanus jumped in, the splash of water hitting your face. You laughed, using your arms to keep you afloat. Coriolanus muttered an apology through a smile, but you barely noticed as your eyes fell over his light skin, his collar bones and muscular shoulders.

The lake was sweet, a nice relief from the constant smell of coal and sweat, the rowdy crowds and the smell of liquor on everyone's breath. Some time later Lucy had swam to shore, helping Aaroa and Tip fish and dig up Katniss' roots.

You floated on your back, the gentle waves lapping at your skin as the sun warmed your face. Coriolanus sat on the edge of the dock, toying with his fingers as he watched you. The wind blew the waves softly, the sun reflecting on your skin like liquid gold. He pushed himself off the dock, slipping below the cold water once again. “Can I hear you sing?” His voice made you turn your head to look at him.

“I don’t sing,” You muttered, turning your head to face the sun again.

“Lucy said you sing.”

You turned to swim properly, treading water. “If you wanna hear someone sing you should ask Lucy,” You insisted. You pushed yourself closer, slipping your fingers under the slim metal chain of his dog tags, untangling the knot. You moved it to hang properly from his neck, your nails dragging ever so slightly across his soft skin.

His icy blue eye moved from your hand on his skin and looked up at your face, droplets of water falling from your hair, and slipping down your skin and when they hit your lips, you swiped them away with your tongue. “I wanna hear you sing.” His eyes snapped up to meet yours as you lifted her gaze from the metal chain.

You chuckled softly and he swore it sounded like the sweetest melody, a honeydew sound that he couldn't help but smile at. “You’re funny Coriolanus Snow,” you said softly. “Turning down the winner of the Hunger Games. A true victor.”

Coriolanus wiped a hand down his face, wiping away the water running over his eyes. “What about you?” He asked.

You shook your head softly. “She’s the star, the songbird,” You insisted, unsure you were convincing him or yourself. His smile made your stomach flip, his gaze made your cheeks burn, but his words… his honey words.

His hand slowly reached out, his fingers slipping beneath the strap of your bra and sliding it back up your shoulder. His hand lingered there for a moment before falling back into the water. “Luckily I like roses.”

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#m0chaminx #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow #the hunger games #hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #ballad of songbirds and snakes #young coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus snow smut

[writingouthere]

neighbor!Sukuna x single mom!reader; your ceiling is leaking at 3 in the morning and you don't know what to do so you go ask for help from the man across the hallway(inspired by real life events that were not nearly so charming).

no need to have read the others in the series but can be read as a week or two after the aquarium date.

cw: Sukuna being a menace

Sukuna had always been a light sleeper so when there were knocks on his door at 3am, he was up instantly. The knocks weren't even loud but he found himself annoyed enough to stomp to the door. If he wasn't sleeping, the people below him didn't need to be either.

He yanked his door open, prepared to make whoever it was regret every moment of their existence but it was you, holding your daughter and clearly on the verge of tears.

You seemed contrite when you saw his expression but before you could even start to apologize, he was slipping on his boots and grabbing his key.

"What's wrong," he asked.

"It-it's the ceiling, I woke up and it was leaking water. It's getting everywhere and I don't know what to do and the landlord isn't picking up."

Sukuna rubbed your arm, trying to give you some comfort and you relaxed a little.

"Okay, let me come take a look. I can call the super, he's probably more likely to answer than the landlord." You nodded and he followed you back to your place. Holding his hand out to stop you at the door as he made to go in first.

Sukuna heard the water pouring in before he saw it. He had never been in your apartment before. It was clear that a woman there. There was color everywhere, more blankets than made sense for two people and the walls were covered in photos and artwork. It felt soft, it reminded him of you. And now, it was being ruined by water raining down from the ceiling.

"Why don't you wait in my apartment. You both look like you could use some rest. I'll sort this out," he said, handing over his key. You looked ready to protest but then your daughter started crying.

"Go, I got it."

You looked so relieved and he wiped away a few tears from your daughter's face and pressed a kiss to her forehead which helped bring the tears down to a more tolerable snuffling.

"Thank you so much, I don't even-"

"Don't worry about it. You two just go settle in the guest room and I'll wake you up when it's settled."

You smiled at him and you seemed to hesitate before you went up on your toes to give him a quick peck on the cheek.

Sukuna couldn't stop himself from grinning as you took your daughter out the door and towards his apartment. He turned around to look at the mess that was your apartment. It looked like a pipe must have burst in the apartment above yours. Annoying, but a quick fix when caught this early. He grabbed his phone, opening it to call the super before a thought came to him that just wouldn't leave.

It would be a shame if you had to terminate your lease because of unsafe conditions, after all you must still have a good six months left on it. He knew you didn't have any family in the area and it would be a lot for a working mom with a kid as young as yours to go apartment hunting all the sudden.

Of course, he did have that guest room. Plenty of space for the three of you and it wouldn't be hard to bring over the stuff you needed while you looked. His apartment was bigger than yours, even though it was just him.

Even if it was a tight fit, his lease was up at the end of the year anyway. You could always get a bigger space, one for your soon to be growing family.

Sukuna pocketed his phone and took a seat at your dining table, away from the water. He figured it would only take another hour before the damage passed the point of no return.

He hoped you and your daughter were resting well in your new home.

#jjk x reader #jjk sukuna #jujutsu kaisen sukuna #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna ryomen

[sinfulspencer]

Flashed

Prompt: It’s too hot to wear clothes at home, so Reader walks around in her underwear. Spencer loses his train of thoughts at the sight.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Rating: mature (18+)

Warnings: light dom/sub dynamic (Dom!Spencer, Sub!Reader if you squint), dirty talking, hair pulling, light impact play, breeding kink, unprotected sex 

Words: 5.0k

A.N.: Horny Spencer. That’s it. Also, this is the first official Spencer Reid fic I have written since last year. It felt so good to write for him again. Written this with a prompt from the Summer Sunshine challenge by @imagining-in-the-margins. Thank you to @reidselle and @drgenius-reid for beta-reading this fic!

MASTERLIST. REQUEST GUIDELINES. TAGLIST FORM.

When Spencer asked you to move in with him at the end of the year, he was ready to face every challenge that life would throw at him. The first fights over laundry, the first fight over whoever almost set the house on fire, the first fights over the person that was supposed to remake the bed before going to work, the first fights over whoever left the TV on before going to bed… 

He was prepared for everything.

Spencer learned to cook (he wasn’t good at it, but he knew how to turn on the stove and boil some water, at least). He learned how to do laundry. He learned how to clean the floors without you falling on your own ass because he forgot to tell you that the ground was wet. 

But Spencer wasn’t ready for the summer. 

You moved in with him during the fall season, when it was still cold outside, and it was time to drink hot chocolate in front of the fireplace. You moved in with him when you were still wearing a winter jacket, leather boots and a scarf around your neck. You moved in when the wind was so cold that you could barely keep the window slightly opened in the bathroom after taking a shower to let the steam go out. 

Spencer wasn’t fucking ready for summer.

The hot weather was already taking a toll on his poor body and he hated it. Spencer despised the high temperatures because they made him sweat like a pig and he hated, more than anything, the feel of sweat under his armpits or behind his knees. 

Normally, before you moved in, Spencer would spend the whole time at home completely naked or wearing only underwear. It wasn’t an everyday occurrence, but it happened quite a lot. 

What was the problem, then?

Spencer used to walk around in his apartment in his underwear when he was alone, but you’re doing it while he’s in the house. He knew you paced around the house that way because you felt comfortable, but still. He was a stupid man, with hormones that rushed through his body like crazy.

You walked around your shared apartment with nothing on but a pair of panties that Spencer always wanted to rip off you and a stupid bra that made your breasts look even more delicious. 

And the sight had started to take a toll on Spencer for the worst. He was constantly horny, making it difficult for him to focus on simple tasks such as cleaning the whole apartment or doing laundry. 

He woke up one day and you already were parading yourself in your underwear, which made his morning wood even more difficult to take care of. He came home that same night and you were still in your underwear, which led him to forget he was supposed to grab some dinner with Luke because he ended up taking you against the bedroom door.

Spencer didn’t want you to wear clothes if you were too hot, but he also needed to learn how to keep his hands to himself whenever he saw an inch of your naked skin. He felt like a teenager, always eager to touch and ravish what belonged to him.

When Spencer tried to explain the situation to Luke, his colleague laughed right in his face. At first, Spencer was offended. 

‘Why are you complaining about seeing your girlfriend’s tits? You should be happy she feels comfortable around you.’

And Spencer was happy; he truly was. He was proud to know he made you feel good about yourself and allowed you to walk around the house almost naked, but he also felt like an idiot for getting a boner whenever he thought about coming home and knowing he’d find you dressed like that. 

Or better, undressed. 

That night, Spencer couldn’t wait to get home and tell you that he had a birthday party to attend next week. It was Penelope’s birthday and, as every year for the past ten, she had an entire day planned for her and her friends from work. There would be a huge pool party in a small agritourism she rented for the day, followed by a barbecue and a whole garden to explore. 

Spencer was excited to bring you there. 

You had been dating for over a year now and you couldn’t meet his co-workers and friends because you always had meetings to attend, or shifts that were incompatible with the nights the team hung out all together. 

“Y/N?” Spencer called out when he entered his apartment. 

The lights in the kitchen were on and he could hear you humming to a song blasting from the speakers. 

He dropped his bag on the floor and followed the sound of your voice, only to find you in nothing but your underwear. Again. You had your back turned and were swaying your hips to the rhythm of the music, making Spencer smile at the sight. Though the music was loud and almost hurt his ears, he was willing to tolerate the loud volume if it meant he could observe you in your element for hours on end. 

He was so enamoured with you even though you weren’t doing anything in particular. He fell harder for you everyday just watching you exist, breathe and live on your own.

But of course, the romantic thoughts in his head abruptly stopped when you felt his presence in the room and you screamed.

“Fuck! What the fuck, Spencer?!”

He didn’t want to laugh at your terrified expression, but a chuckle fell from his lips. 

“Did I scare you?”

You roll your eyes, dropping your apron on the counter. “No. I screamed because I was learning how to fry scream. Fuck yes, you scared me.”

Spencer walked to the other side of the kitchen counter and wrapped his arms around your shoulders, pulling you into a tight hug. You smelled like apples and he could see them in the corner of his eyes, all peeled up. 

“How was work? Did you get your stuff done?” you asked

Spencer nodded his head, kissing your temple without losing his grip on you. “Yes. I’m exhausted, though. I couldn’t wait to get home so I could relax and enjoy some time with you.”

You leaned forward, caressing his soft curls. “I bet you’re tired. You’ve been awake since five in the morning.”

As Spencer left the kitchen to get changed, he heard the music turning back on and he smiled. Your footsteps echoed in the room, and he smiled because he knew you were dancing to your favourite songs again. But still, there was a big problem that needed to be solved at that instant. 

You were still in your underwear and of course, he had noticed that. How couldn’t he? 

Spencer saw you for less than three minutes and yet, the bulge in his trousers made it difficult for him to think straight. He didn’t know how it was possible for you to turn him on that much, but you did and it was starting to make things harder for him.

If Spencer brought you to Penelope's birthday party, you were definitely going to wear a bikini. And a bikini is basically the same thing as your underwear… which meant one thing.

“Oh no.”

“Are you talking to me?”

Spencer turned around, attempting to cover the issue between his thighs with the jacket he brought to work that morning. 

“Uh, no love. No, I was just thinking about… something.”

“Care to share?” you asked with an innocent smile.

Spencer knew that smile was actually innocent; you had no ill intentions, but his brain was starting to play games with him. He was so turned on that Spencer thought every little microexpression on your face and every move you made were just actions to tease him and work him up. 

They were not. Or maybe they were.

“Sorry, uh… Yeah. Penelope invited me to her birthday party this Saturday.”

Your face enlightened at his words. “Oh! That’s so nice!”

“She asked me to bring you, too.” 

“I don’t like the tone you just used. If you don’t want to bring me, that’s…”

Spencer widened his eyes, realising that his words might’ve sounded rude. “No! I’m excited to let you meet all of my friends and co-workers, truly.”

“Then, what is it? I know there’s something that bothers you.”

You sat on the bed with your legs crossed, waiting for Spencer to continue but, he didn’t dare to move. If he placed his jacket on the bed, you would’ve noticed the painful tent in his trousers. If he didn’t move, you would’ve asked him why he wasn’t taking off his clothes and putting on more comfortable ones.

Too many thoughts were running wild through Spencer’s brain and it was difficult for him to gather them all, cast aside the naughty ones and focus on the more normal ones. 

It was tough not to stare at the curves of your breasts and how he could see the shadow of your nipples hidden behind the fabric of your bra. He has spent so many hours just licking and sucking your skin around your breasts, that he can still taste you on his tongue if he focuses hard enough. 

“Penelope has rented a whole place for all of us.”

You hummed, tilting your head. “Sounds really nice. Is there a swimming pool involved? Is that why you’re worried?”

Spencer bit his bottom lip, forcing himself not to stare at the way your hair fell over your shoulders and covered the laces of your bra. A few days ago, he used his teeth to remove that same bra. It was a struggle not to think about that night, and he pathetically failed.

“I’m sure the place she rented is clean and…”

As you started to speak and comfort Spencer over his fear of germs, his mind wandered elsewhere. You moved to the centre of the bed to be closer to him and laid on it, with your arms behind your head and your body all stretched out. 

Your bra barely covered your full breasts and your thighs were much more visible, with all the little bruises still peppering your skin. The same bruises he caused two days before. The same bruises you begged him to create on. 

Spencer’s brain was starting to get even foggier. 

“Are you even listening to me, love?” 

You snapped your fingers in front of his face and Spencer dropped the jacket on the floor, quickly bending over to pick it up. Of course, he was listening to you, but he was just… thinking about something else while you were talking. 

“Hm.”

“I’ll take that as a no.”

Spencer turned away from you and looked down, frowning. His bulge was still there and getting more painful, but how in the world was he going to face you and ask you if you could help him out? He knew you would, in a heartbeat, but he felt miserable. 

How could he ask you to stop walking around his place in nothing but your underwear when he wanted to worship your body every hour of every day? How could he deny himself the sight of your stunning body? 

His eyes went straight to your breasts and of course, you noticed it. 

“Spencer!”

“Hm? What’s up?”

“My God.” - you started to say, sitting up on the bed - “You’re distracted! You can’t even finish a sentence or listen to me.”

Spencer hummed again, forcing his eyes to stay on your face. Unfortunately, they slipped down to your breasts once again - but that time, Spencer didn’t deny it. How could he? He had been so obvious since he arrived home, but you thought to yourself that maybe you were imagining things.

Or you were too horny, but you weren’t. He was. 

“I’m sorry, it’s just…”

“You’ve been staring at my breasts since you saw me in the kitchen.” you stated

Spencer sighed, turning his back on you again. “I’m sorry. They’re distracting.”

“Look at me, love.”

He lingered for a few seconds, covering his face with both hands. He didn’t want to turn around because he knew you would’ve teased him for hours on end, but it truly wasn’t his fault. It was his brain that tricked him into staring at your boobs and remembering all the things he did to you the night before and all the other days. 

It wasn’t his fault he had an eidetic memory and he could replay all your moments of intimacy together each time he wanted. How you looked when he kissed your neck, how you moaned when his tongue swirled around your nipples…

“You can look at them whenever you want, you know.” - you tapped his shoulder, kneeling behind him on the bed - “I’m your girlfriend, aren’t I?”

“That’s not the point, Y/N.” - Spencer replied, forcing himself to turn around - “You’re so distracting, I can barely think when you’re there… dressed up like that.”

You raised your brows. “Do you want me to change?”

“No!” - he exclaimed, before clearing his throat - “I mean… maybe. I don’t know, but I can’t keep getting hard because you’re half-naked.”

“What’s wrong with being attracted to me, love?” you asked with your arms crossed.

“There’s nothing wrong with that, you know, but it’s hard to be around you when all I think about is how I want to just…” - he took a deep breath before shaking his head - “I need to behave, I’m sorry.”

There was a moment of silence where you pondered over his words. He seemed so miserable and all because he was so attracted to you that he could barely think, that he could barely remember that he had other things to do other than you. 

That felt incredibly hot. 

Leaning forward, you placed a hand on his hip. “I want to hear what you’re thinking about right now.”

Spencer shook his head, covering your hand with his. “It’s too early.”

“It’s never too early to make love to your partner, Spencer.”

You were right, he knew that, but he also knew that if he kissed you and took you right there, he would’ve spent the whole night just trying to do it over and over until you were too tired to move or to keep your eyes open. 

Spencer sighed and looked down at you. “You drive me crazy.”

“And what’s the harm in that, love?” you asked innocently 

He moved his hands under your neck and forced you to look at him, gripping your chin with his fingertips. You went quiet, trying to decipher the expression on his face, though the tight grip was already a good hint of what he was thinking about.  

“No harm.”

“Exactly, so… What’s stopping you?”

Spencer knew nothing was stopping him from pressing your body onto the mattress and pounding into you. He had every right to do so because he knew you wanted it as much as he did, but still. There was an issue to fix and he refused to let his hormones get in the way, once again. 

But maybe just this time, Spencer thought.

You leaned your head against his palm, and closed your eyes when his fingers brushed over your cheek. He could look at you for hours, admiring how you basked in the sweetness of his touch that you found so comforting. 

“Nothing’s stopping me.”

You sighed, running your hands over his chest. “Good.”

Spencer unbuckled his belt and the metal clanking of it falling onto the floor brought an eager smile to your lips. Of course you smiled, because you were about to get exactly what you wanted since he came home. 

Little minx, Spencer thought. 

“You don’t need to hold back from what you truly desire, Spencer.” 

He drank up your words like they were the sweetest honey and he sighed. You were right; he didn’t need to stop himself from putting his hands over you if you wanted to be touched as well, but still.

“If you want to rip my underwear off me, you can do it.” - you muttered, slowly opening the buttons of his shirt - “If you want to fuck me like this, while I’m almost naked and you’re still dressed, you can do it.”

Spencer watched as your skilled fingers pushed his shirt off his shoulder and sighed, because there was nothing else he could do or say at that moment. You had him wrapped around your tiny finger and you knew it, which was why he loved you so much. You could’ve snapped your fingers and he would’ve dropped to his knees for you. 

“I just.. I just need to have you. At all times.”

“You can.” - you replied with no hesitation, only firmness in your voice - “I am here for your pleasure. Always.”

Spencer released a long sigh. “I know. I’m so lucky.”

Pushing his trousers down his legs to reveal his soft skin, you looked up at him with your lips turned into a wicked grin. You could see the emotions rapidly changing behind those eyes: lust, frustration, love, annoyance and desire. That was exactly what you wanted: you craved to drive Spencer crazy and you needed him to lose his mind over you. 

It made you feel powerful.

“You’re so pretty when you’re desperate for me.” you said 

Spencer leaned into your touch when you reached out for his face. “So are you, princess.”

But the tender moment was gone as fast it came, because there was no time to be nice to one another. Spencer wanted to wreck you and you wanted him to do as he pleased; you wanted the pleasure to consume him, and so it did.

Spencer kissed you for the first time since he came home and, of course, he had no time to be nice. His tongue pushed into your mouth without warning, but you let it as you laid down on the bed with the man on top of you. The kiss expressed all the frustration that had built within him ever since he came home and found you in the kitchen, wiggling your ass to the music and singing at the top of your lungs. 

His teeth dug into the soft flesh of your bottom lip and you whined, almost tasting blood on your tongue. 

“Let me be rough tonight.”

You grabbed him by the chin, staring right into those honey-coloured eyes. “Perhaps I was not clear with my words a moment ago, Spencer. I want you to do whatever you want to me.”

Spencer groaned at your words and pushed any rational thought out of his mind, allowing the frustration and profound desire felt for you to drive him. His pupils were blown wide with unbridled lust making you shiver, bringing the heat between your thighs where you so desperately wanted to be touched. 

Spencer kissed your mouth before moving down to your throat, attacking it with bites and gentle licks that made you whimper. 

“I’m going to ravish you tonight, my princess.” - Spencer whispered to your ear, running his hands all over your breasts - “And you’re going to take my cock like the good girl I know you are for me, yeah?”

“Yes. Yes, love.”

He moved his hands to your face, kissing the tip of your nose. “Hands and knees.”

You scrambled to turn around, struggling to move as his arms didn’t give you as much space as you needed. Spencer, ever so helpful, pulled your hips up when you managed to roll on your tummy. 

“Good girl, that’s it.”

You could feel his cock against your ass when he leaned forward to bite your shoulder and you moaned, closing your eyes. His nails dug into the soft flesh of your back, dragging your panties down your thighs before throwing them on the floor. 

Spencer’s mouth wandered down your neck, leaving a trace of kisses that started from your right shoulder and went down to your ass. He nibbled at the soft skin right below it before biting down, hard enough to draw blood. You yelped at the feeling, but didn’t complain as your hands scratched the blanket. 

Spencer pulled away for a second and traced the small wound with the tip of his index, earning a hiss from you. It hurt, but you wanted it to hurt - you promised you’d bleed for him, and bleed you did. 

“Good girl. So pretty for me.” - Spencer whispered, but you were more focused on the sound of a bottle of lube being opened - “I’m sorry, I’m so impatient to have you. I wish we could take this slow, but I can’t.”

“It’s okay, I know you’re desperate.” - you mumbled, moaning softly when his fingers breached your entrance - “It’s fucking cold.”

He chuckled at your reaction, smearing the lube all over your already wet slit. “Oops”

When you were ready, Spencer found no resistance as he slowly pushed the tip of his cock inside of you. He watched the way your walls welcomed him in and revelled in the sweetness of your whimpers and whines when you felt him. Spencer waited, watching you as you struggled to stay still for him. 

“Please, just… Get inside, for fuck’s sake.”

“Oh? Wanna take it all at once, my princess?” - Spencer asked, running his left hand through your hair - “Are you desperate for my cock? Then, fucking have it.”

In one hard thrust, Spencer bottomed out inside of you and you fell on the bed with your face in the pillow. You trembled when you finally felt every inch of his cock inside of you and you thought you were ready to fall off the edge in less than a minute. 

You were desperate for him every single time you had the chance to make love to him.

“Take it, princess. You wanted it and now you have it.”

Spencer watched you as you arched your back, tightening your grip on the bed sheets. A chorus of curses and moans flows from your lips as you try to get back on your knees, but his thrusts are too quick and harsh to let you get in position. So, again, you fell down with your face in the pillow. 

The pleasure quickly expanded through your body as Spencer never slowed down the pace of his thrusts, basking in the gentle sounds of your moans. His right hand travelled down to reach your ass, and before you felt it, you heard it - there was a brief moment of silence, followed by a loud smack and then a deep heat diffusing over your skin. 

It had been so long since he spanked you, but with that position, you couldn’t blame him.

The sensation heightened the pleasure within you. 

“Oh, fuck!”

Spencer moved both his hands on each side of your head and leaned forward, keeping his thrusts quick and regular. You could feel his body tense each time you tried to push back into him, to fuck yourself onto his cock. 

You were already close, desperate to ride that delicious end. 

“Please, more.” - you cried out again - “Please, I’m close.”

“Don’t you dare.” - he bit your earlobe - “Don’t you fucking dare come on my cock now.”

You whined at his order, not sure how you would be able to hold it and be a good girl for him. It wasn’t easy to hold an orgasm, especially if Spencer never stopped fucking into you with all the energy he had in his body. You were so close, you were right there but Spencer stopped his movements - and suddenly, you felt a warm tear slip down your cheek.

A single tear of frustration. 

Spencer forced you on your back, pushing you onto the mattress before sliding his cock back inside of you. 

“I want to see your pretty face when you come, princess.” - Spencer whispered, lifting your right leg and wrapping it around his own waist - “I want you to look at me as you come undone on my cock.”

His pace is as rough as before and you felt more tears spill from your eyes. Your hands quickly went behind his neck as you rolled your hips, a pathetic attempt at fucking yourself back onto his cock to feel more and more. 

You couldn’t form a coherent sentence. The only word that fell from your lips was a strained ‘yes’ that echoed in the room, encouraging Spencer to go harder and faster, to tear you down piece by piece.

And he looked fucking stunning as he did so. 

His lean body, his muscles were tense, a single strand of hair falling over his forehead and his tongue poking out in concentration… You wanted to get those details tattooed on your brain, on your body, every-fucking-where. 

“Such a good girl for me, huh? My pretty princess.” - Spencer whispered, looking down at you - “Always welcoming me with nothing on, knowing how crazy that makes me.”

Your lips opened slightly, more whimpers flowing from them. 

“Do you know how difficult it is to get out of here and not remember all the times I’ve fucked you against the door?” he said, his voice rough.

You shook your head, not sure if you understood what he said. 

“Fuck, you make me so horny. I fucking love your body.” - he mumbled, pressing his forehead to yours - “I always think about it and then I see dressed like that… It’s like you’re always begging me to bend you over and fuck your pretty cunt.”

You’ve always loved his dirty mouth, but that day it felt deliciously perfect. His thrusts were rough and faltering, which meant he was close to his orgasm too - you almost forgot you were close, totally enamoured by him and the way he spoke about you.  

“My slutty princess.”

You nodded with a smile, drunk on your lust for him. “All yours to use and destroy.”

You felt the pleasure built up again right behind your belly button and you knew you were close again. Spencer must’ve noticed it because he kept his pace quick, never changing the angle because he felt you clench hard around him each time he bottomed out. Your thighs were shaking around his waist and he could feel your heartbeat quickening under his fingertips. 

“My good girl.” - he mumbled, closing his eyes for a moment - “I can feel you’re close. Do you want to come on my cock, princess?”

He didn’t need a verbal answer, because soon your cries of pleasure were enough. You widened your eyes and threw your head back onto the pillow, crying out his name over and over as your nails dug into his shoulders. He could feel his skin breaking under your nails but he didn’t care. 

Spencer was too enamoured with you to realise how painful your grip was. 

“That’s it, gorgeous. You did so well.” he rewarded you with a kiss on the lips 

You barely felt it, drunk on the pleasure that he fed you. Your whole body was shuddering as Spencer helped you ride out your orgasm, but the more he thrusted, the more pain you felt stabbing you. You didn’t complain, though. 

You wanted it, you needed it and so did he. 

“Does this pretty princess want my cum deep inside of her, hm?” Spencer asked

You weren’t sure he heard you, but you managed to choke out: “Yes. Please, please, fucking do it. Please.”

A few thrusts later, Spencer granted you your wish. His warmth flooded you from the inside as he watched the way his body become one with yours, shivering with pleasure. His right hand pressed down hard below your belly button and you winced, feeling his seed run deep if that was even possible. 

It felt so incredibly good you could almost come again. 

“Ah, that felt fucking perfect.”

You closed your arms around his neck and caged him against your body, so that he wouldn’t be able to run away. Not that he wanted to, of course, but. 

Spencer didn’t move for at least five good minutes, struggling to catch his own breath while you stared at the bedroom ceiling with a grin on your face. You were deeply satisfied with yourself and you were sure Spencer was content, as well - though the conversation between you wasn’t over. 

You knew that not putting on clothes would’ve distracted him and maybe that was exactly why you never put them on when he was around in your shared apartment. It was fun to see him struggling between staring at your breasts or at your thighs, or forgetting that he had to hang out with his colleagues because he was too busy burying his face in your cunt or fucking you against a window. 

It felt good to be desired, and it felt even better knowing that it was the only thing Spencer was able to think about when he was away from you. 

“You have to stop walking around our place naked.”

You put a hand on his chest, gently pushing him upward. Spencer was still lying between your legs, but he was staring at you. 

“Naked? I am always wearing my underwear.” you stated 

Spencer bumped the tip of his nose against yours. “Which is dangerously distracting, Y/N.”

“Oh, you’re using my name in a conversation.”

“I’m being serious, princess. I can’t get a boner whenever I’m near you.” - he explained, pressing a kiss on your jaw - “Believe me, I appreciate the sight but… My brain needs some rest. And so does my penis.”

“Okay, alright. I’ll do my best to keep my clothes on.” - I decided to give in - “After six weeks of pure hell, I think you deserve a break.”

Spencer kissed your cheek, before biting it softly. “I appreciate it, my princess.”

“But that doesn’t mean I won’t do it occasionally just to drive you crazy.” you warned him 

“Oh, I’m fine with that.” - he said, rolling off your body - “But give me a heads up before doing it, okay? I wouldn’t want to come home with Luke and find you in your underwear.”

“Well… it could be fun. Maybe he’d like to join…”

Spencer covered your mouth with his’ before you could finish your sentence, but the kiss was interrupted by your loud laugh echoing through the walls. 

“Alright, Luke will never see me like this.” - you gave him a peck on the lips, pushing him off you before he could spread your legs again - “This sight is for your eyes only.”

TAGLIST @blvebanisters @koukatsuki @moesdraft

BROKEN TAGS @alelaeljfj @donttrustlove

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut fanfic #spencer reid imagines #spencer reid smut imagines #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x female reader #criminal minds fics #criminal minds fanfics #doctor spencer reid smut

[pinknipszz]

heian era sukuna x reader →

(a/n: loosely inspired by that one jessica rabbit scene; this is also borderline uraume/reader bc theyre so cute ugh)

people don’t understand how you can love the king of curses. his figure was grotesque—beyond repulsive—with four heavy hands that could snap your limbs into two if he so pleased. they can’t get past the four eyes either, but you found them charming. how could you not when he looked at you so sweetly? 

“where is my husband?” you inquire for the nth time, your voice as sweet as molasses as you tug at the ends of uraume’s sleeves. the humble servant doesn’t answer immediately; they know not to, and you don’t mind. while you wait, you watch the passerines tease the fish in the pond from your spot on the engawa.

uraume dips their elegant fude into the shallow inkstone beside you. calligraphy and whatnot. “lord sukuna is tending to matters in the southern provinces,” they answer with the same amount of patience they had a few minutes ago, and an hour before, and another before that. they must be used to it now.

“do you think he misses me?” comes a light brush against their pale hand. uraume exhales through their nose at your question, but not from exasperation. never that. “yes,” they say with utmost sincerity, like it’s gospel truth, before painting one long, flourishing stroke. “very much so.”

content, you cease your ministrations and fall on your back, giggling at the way your hair splays beneath your head. “he loves me,” you coo and cup your sun-kissed cheeks. “my husband loves me, and i love him too.” you think the edge of their lips twitch up into the barest hint of a smile.

but it vanishes before you can get a proper glimpse. sighing, uraume gives you a knowing look from the corner of their eye as they dip their fude back into the inkstone. you turn to lay on your side and watch how it absorbs the ink. “the servants, though adequate, have been quite bothersome lately.”

they finish the kanji in several swift strokes. 麗. rei for beauty. uraume continues. “there’s ill speak of your relationship with lord sukuna.” you count the passerines, letting the unspoken question hang in the air. shall i do something about it? it’s uraume’s turn to wait patiently for an answer, an ultimatum.

but you don’t give one so easily, preoccupied with an image that resurfaces in your mind: a group of servants—fresh off the cut and eager-eyed—gossiping by the water well. you don’t think they saw you, unless they were stupider than you thought, but they were loud enough to hear.

uraume is watching you, properly now, as you blow a stray strand of hair from your face. when they lean in to gently tuck it behind your ear, persimmons and plums permeate your senses. “do not bother with them. they talk because they do not understand why i love him,” you decide with finality.

“and why do you love him?” there’s a hint of fondness in their voice, reserved for you.

you look up through your delicate lashes, smiling cheekily. “he makes me laugh.”

(masterlist) | (a/n: would yall hate me if I wrote uraume/reader's pls be honest)

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna ryomen #sukuna ryomen x reader #jjk sukuna #sukuna x you #uraume