#Euphoria Unfolding

[willowbelle]

Wasted

❤︎ roronoa zoro x fem reader ❤︎

༉‧₊˚✧ (nsfw, afab!reader, 18+ only) ༉‧₊˚✧

cw: tipsy sex, dom!zoro, sub!/slightly bratty reader, zoro is a tease, zoro is commanding, teasing, edging, arm-pinning, thigh-riding, oral (blowjob), wall-sex, spanking, creampie.

summary: reader is a strawhat. zoro and reader hook up after a party on the sunny. ;) strawhats know what's up.

word count: ~4,400

tagging: @bby-deerling @eelnoise @3v37773 @laylaloves-ed @shamblespirate @lowkeycasanova @maddddstuff

Wasted

A celebration was in the works for your crew following a recent victory. 

The horizon blushes with hues of orange and pink, its kiss with the sky mirrored by the gentle lapping of waves against The Sunny's hull.

Above, strings of shimmering lights twinkle like stars, casting a soft glow upon the gathering, as if the cosmos themselves had descended to partake in the festivities.

As the sun dips below the horizon, the deck of your ship transforms into a stage, bathed in the golden embrace of dusk, setting the scene for an evening of celebration

Amidst the joyous throng, laughter and music fill the air; liquor on your tongues.

Luffy whirls Chopper around in a playful dance, while Usopp and Franky share a merry jig, their spirits soaring in the jubilant atmosphere.

"Hey, Chopper, check this out! I'm gonna be the Pirate King of the dance floor, too!" Luffy exclaims with a wide grin, his enthusiasm contagious.

Chopper giggles, clinging to Luffy's arm as they whirl around. "You're doing great, Luffy! But try not to spin me too fast, I'm getting dizzy!"

Luffy chuckles, slowing down his movements slightly. "Sorry about that, Chopper! But hey, we've got to celebrate our victory properly, right? Dancing is the best way to do it!"

Chopper nods eagerly, his tiny hooves tapping along to the beat. "Absolutely, Captain! Let's keep dancing until the sun comes up!"

----

The ambiance is one of warmth, brightness, and sheer exuberance, a testament to the camaraderie and triumph that define the partygoers.

In the bustling midst of The Sunny's jubilant celebration, a lone figure perches at the makeshift bar, silently observing the lively scene unfolding before him. His eye is fixed on you, even amidst the swirling dance floor.

Your movements are graceful and carefree, dancing along with Nami and Robin as you giggle drunkenly. 

As you sway and twirl with the girls, lost in the euphoria of the moment, you catch a glimpse of the swordsman seated at the bar. His eyes seem to linger on you, a silent observer amidst the festivities. You can't quite place the expression on his face – is it longing, admiration, or something else entirely?

Despite the haze of alcohol clouding your senses, you can't shake the feeling of being watched. The music pulses around you, the beat thrumming through your veins, but his steady gaze holds your attention like a lighthouse beacon cutting through the fog.

With each playful spin and merry laugh, you find yourself stealing glances in his direction. Zoro’s always been mysterious, but tonight, his stoic gaze feels… different. 

“Too much to drink, y/n?” Nami giggles, “You keep looking at Zoro. He’s so boring, sitting there all alone,” she scoffs playfully.

“Oh shut up,” you giggle, playfully swatting at the navigator’s arm, “Says you! You can barely stand up straight!”

As you continue to dance with Nami, your mind can't help but wander back to the mysterious swordsman at the bar. Sensing your distraction, Robin gives you a knowing smile and gently nudges your arm.

"Lost in thought, dear?" Robin's voice is soft, barely audible above the music.

You nod sheepishly, feeling a flush of embarrassment creeping up your cheeks. "I can't shake the feeling that someone's watching me," you confess, casting another glance in Zoro's direction.

Robin follows your gaze, her expression thoughtful. "Zoro does seem particularly focused tonight," she observes, her eyes flickering with curiosity. "But perhaps it's not boredom that keeps him seated there alone."

Her words pique your interest, and you turn to her with a quizzical expression. "What do you mean, Robin?"

Robin offers you a reassuring smile, her gaze steady. "I've learned that sometimes, silence speaks louder than words. Perhaps Zoro has something on his mind that he's not quite ready to share."

----

As the music swells and your drinking continues, your curiosity gets the better of you. Excusing yourself from the dance, you navigate through the lively crowd towards the lone figure at the bar.

With each step, the anticipation builds within you, mingling with the alcohol-induced courage coursing through your veins. As you draw closer, you notice the subtle tension in Zoro's frame, a flicker of surprise crossing his features as he meets your gaze.

With a light sway in your step and a playful giggle escaping your lips, you approach him, the warmth of the alcohol coloring your cheeks. "Hey there, lone swordsman,” you chirp, “Mind if i join ya?” you don’t even wait for his response before sliding onto the stool beside him with a less-than-graceful plop.

Zoro's expression softens, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes as he gestures to the stool, "Be my guest," he replies gruffly.

Zoro arches a brow, a faint smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "Looks like someone's had a bit too much fun," he observes, amusement evident in his tone.

You giggle again, nodding enthusiastically. "Maybe just a little," you admit, feeling a sudden burst of boldness fueled by the alcohol coursing through your veins. "But I couldn't resist coming to chat with the mysterious Zoro."

A chuckle escapes Zoro's throat as he leans back against the bar, his gaze meeting yours with a hint of intrigue. "Mysterious, huh?" he muses, swirling the contents of his drink thoughtfully. "I like the sound of that."

Perching on the stool, you steal a moment to take in his rugged features, the dim light casting shadows across his face. There's a quiet strength about him, an aura of mystery that draws you in.

"Sooooo, what's with the solitary act?" you slur playfully, “Why don’t ‘cha join us out there?”

Zoro chuckles, a low rumble that reverberates through the air. "Not my scene," he grumbles, taking a sip from his drink. "Besides, someone's gotta keep watch."

"Fair enoughhhh," you reply, your words trailing off as you glance back towards the dance floor where the party shows no signs of slowing down. The music pounds in your ears, and you find yourself swaying to the rhythm even as you sit at the bar.

For a moment, the two of you sit in comfortable silence, the music providing a soothing backdrop to your conversation. As you steal glances at Zoro, you can't help but wonder about the thoughts swirling behind his enigmatic gaze.

With a tipsy grin, you lean a little closer to Zoro, feeling a sudden surge of boldness. "You knowww," you begin, your words slightly slurred but filled with earnestness, "I've been thinking about you."

Zoro's eyebrows raise in mild surprise, his gaze shifting to meet yours with a mix of curiosity and amusement. "Oh, really?" he responds, his tone tinged with a hint of intrigue.

"Yeah," you continue, a playful lilt in your voice. "I mean, you're always off doing your own thing, being all mysterious and brooding... It's kinda hard not to think about you."

A ghost of a smile plays at the corners of Zoro's lips as he listens to your rambling confession. "Well, I suppose I should take that as a compliment," he remarks, his tone teasing yet genuine.

You nod enthusiastically, feeling a warmth spreading through you at his response. "Definitely," you affirm, a playful twinkle in your eye. "You've got this whole mysterious thing going on, and I gotta admit, it's pretty intriguing."

Zoro's gaze softens, a flicker of something unreadable dancing in his eyes. "I'm glad you think so," he replies, his voice quieter, now, more sincere.

"You've been thinking about me, too, right?" you tease, your words laced with playful skepticism. You flirtatiously twirl a strand of hair between your fingertips as you await his response. 

Zoro's expression softens, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Yeah," he admits before taking a sip of his drink, "But what makes you so sure of that?"

Your heart skips a beat at his confession, a warmth spreading through you at the thought of being on his mind. "Well, I can't say I'm surprised," you quip, a mischievous twinkle in your eye. "I mean, who wouldn't think about me?"

A low chuckle rumbles in Zoro's chest as he shakes his head in amusement. "You've got a point there," he concedes, his gaze intense as it lingers on you.

Emboldened by his admission, you take a sip of your drink before continuing. "It’s pretty obvious, you know, i've noticed all that staring," you toy, a hint of bashfulness creeping into your voice.

Zoro's eyebrows raise in mild surprise, his gaze meeting yours with a mixture of curiosity and something deeper. "Have you now?" he teases back.

You nod, feeling a rush of boldness coursing through you. "Yeah," you reply, a flush creeping across your cheeks. "And I have to say, I kinda like it."

A flicker of something unreadable dances in Zoro's eyes as he leans in closer, his breath warm against your skin. "Well, then," he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper, "Maybe we should do something about it."

As Zoro's breath grazes your skin, sending a surge of anticipation coursing through you. The air crackles with tension, each moment stretching out as you wait for his next move.

With a boldness you didn't know you possessed, you lean in closer, your lips hovering just inches from his. "I think that's a fantastic idea," you whisper, your voice barely audible over the soft music that still fills the air.

Zoro's gaze darkens with desire as he closes the remaining distance between you, his lips capturing yours in a searing kiss that ignites a fire deep within your core. In that moment, all doubts and reservations melt away, leaving only the raw, undeniable passion that burns between you.

With a shared breathless smile, Zoro gently takes your delicate hand in his calloused one, his touch causing sparks to erupt beneath your skin. "Come with me," he murmurs, his voice husky with desire, “Too crowded here.”

You nod, your heart pounding in your chest as you follow him through the dimly lit corridors of the ship. Each step brings you closer to an unknown destination, yet you trust in the magnetic pull drawing you towards him.

----

As you walk together in silence, the air thick with anticipation, you steal glances at Zoro, admiring the way his muscles flex beneath his fitted shirt and the intensity in his eyes. Despite the darkness of the corridor, you feel a warmth spreading through you, fueled by the promise of what's to come.

Finally, you arrive at Zoro's quarters, the door sliding open with a soft hiss. Stepping inside, you're enveloped in the intimate glow of candlelight, casting shadows that dance across the walls.

Before you can even catch your breath, Zoro presses you firmly against the wall, his strength evident in his forcefullness. 

With a hunger that matches your own, Zoro leans in closer, his lips capturing yours in a fierce, possessive kiss. It's as if he's staking his claim, pouring all his pent-up desire and longing into your lips. 

“Mm,” he groans lowly into your mouth. 

Filled with a surge of daring, you lift your hand to tangle your fingers in his hair, urging him closer. You revel in the intoxicating taste of him—a mingling of sea salt and booze—it electrifies your senses. His presence is overpowering, emitting a primal scent of sweat and masculinity, tempered only by a faint hint of weak cologne. 

Your tongues collide in a fierce, passionate dance, each movement conveying a raw hunger and urgency that leaves you breathless. It's as if you're drowning, and his mouth is your lifeline.

You feel the corners of his lips curling into a knowing smirk at your desperation, and in a swift, decisive motion, he seizes the opportunity to grasp your wrists firmly. With a firm yet gentle touch, he maneuvers your arms above your head, pinning them against the wall as he presses his body against yours.

“Needy thing, aren’t ya?” he grins wolfishly, making heat pool in your core. 

With a low growl, he leans in closer, his lips trailing a path of fire along your jawline and down to your neck. 

Your head instinctively lulls back, giving him more access to your throat. 

“Mm, Zoro,” you huff lustfully, “Want you so bad…”

As he continues to sloppily kiss down the column of your neck, he brings his right knee up to slot between your legs, making you gasp softly into his mouth.

“Come on, baby,” he groans.

Zoro's hands abandon their place around your wrists, descending to grip your breasts firmly. His calloused palms mold your soft flesh, eliciting a small squeak of delight from your lips.

“F-Fuck,” you curse softly. 

As you continue to rock your hips against him, the heat between you intensifies, the tension building to an almost unbearable peak. His touch is urgent, his kisses hungry, as if he's determined to consume you entirely.

"Do you like that, y/n?" he growls against your neck, his voice thick with desire. "Losing yourself on me like this?"

Driven by an insatiable need, your hands find their way to his back, your nails digging into his muscles as you cling to him desperately.

"M-mhm," you whimper in agreement, unable to form coherent words as you lose your composure.

His grip on your breasts tightens, sending a jolt of pleasure straight to your core. You can feel the primal urgency in his touch, the intensity of his desire mirrored in the way he ravishes you.

But suddenly, he stops, making you whine out at the loss of contact as he slowly pulls away from you. 

His eyes are hungry as you looks you over. Iris moving up and down your form like a predator stalking its prey.

“Get on your knees,” he grumbles lustfully. 

His command sends a shiver down your spine, and yet, you obey immediately, sinking to your knees before the swordsman. 

As you lower yourself, you feel a surge of heat pooling in your core, the anticipation of what's to come making your heart pound within your chest. 

Without a word, he reaches out, his fingers tangling in your hair as he gently guides your head forward.

You inhale sharply, your breath catching in your throat as you feel his warmth close in on you. And then, you do as you have been silently told, pressing your lips to his skin, kissing him with a fervor born of pure desire.

His arousal is evident; rock hard and pulsing beneath each press of your lips to his crotch. 

His toned arms snake down, deftly tugging at his pants and pulling them down along with his boxers in one fluid motion. His cock springs free, bobbing against his muscular abdomen, a potent symbol of his arousal.

Your breath hitches in your throat as you take in the sight of the man before you. He’s magnificent.  His cock is big, thick; looks heavy, even. 

As your eyes roam over him, he notices your reaction and smirks, a self-satisfied chuckle escaping his lips. He takes your chin between his fingertips, tilting your gaze upwards to meet his.

"Don't drool now," he teases, his voice laced with smug confidence, knowing damn well how well-endowed he is. 

You swallow hard, your cheeks flushing with desire as you meet his gaze. His confidence is intoxicating, his dominance igniting a primal hunger within you that demands to be sated.

With trembling hands, you reach out, unable to resist the temptation before you. Your fingers trace along the length of his cock, marveling at its girth and hardness.

He groans softly at your touch, his eyes darkening with desire as he watches you with hungry anticipation. Encouraged by his response, you wrap your hand around him, feeling the weight of him in your grasp.

"Fuck," he breathes out, his voice husky with need. 

You continue to stroke him, your movements becoming more confident as you explore every inch of him eagerly. 

His breaths grow heavier with each stroke, his hips involuntarily thrusting forward to meet your touch.

“Open your mouth,” he rasps. 

You comply eagerly, parting your lips to accommodate him as he guides himself towards you.

He watches you intently, his gaze smoldering with lust as he revels in the sight of you submitting to him so willingly. 

With a groan of satisfaction, he slides into your mouth, filling you completely with his hardness. You take him eagerly, savoring the taste of him, the weight of him on your tongue.

As he fills your mouth, you can't help but moan in pleasure, the sensation of him stretching you sending waves of ecstasy coursing through your body.

"Mm," you moan around him, the sound vibrating against his skin and sending a shiver down his spine.

Encouraged by your response, he begins to move, thrusting gently into your mouth as he sets a steady rhythm.

“Fuck,” he groans, letting his head fall back, “Such a good girl, taking me so well.”

You revel in the praise that falls from his lips, a delicious affirmation of your obedience. 

You can feel the thick tip of his cock meeting the back of your throat with each thrust, but you dismiss the discomfort, you just want to please him. 

As you continue to take him deeper, you can feel the intensity of his desire growing, his breaths coming in ragged gasps as he nears the edge. 

But instead of welcoming his orgasm, Zoro catches your face in his hand, holding your jaw to make you halt your efforts. 

"Stand up," he commands huskily, his voice thick with need as he withdraws from your mouth.

You giggle playfully, wiping the drool from your chin. "Jeez, Zoro," you tease, "On your knees, open your mouth, stand up,” you mock, “What's next? You want me to do a handstand?"

Zoro smirks, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. "Do you want me to fuck you or not?" he grumbles, his tone laced with desire and impatience.

Your playful demeanor melts away at the threat of his words, replaced by a surge of arousal. With a playful roll of your eyes, you comply, rising to your feet and turning to face him, anticipation thrumming through your veins as you await his next move.

With a firm yet gentle hand, he guides you towards the wall, pressing your chest-first against its cool surface. The contact sends a shiver of pleasure coursing through you, heightening the intensity of your arousal.

As you’re pressed breasts against the wall, you can feel the heat of his body against your back, his presence looming over you with an almost palpable intensity. 

He presses himself against you, his hardness pressing into the small of your back.

You gasp at the contact, the heat of his arousal searing against your skin as you feel the full weight of his desire pressing into you. It's a delicious torment, the promise of pleasure mingling with the anticipation of what's to come.

"Feel how much I want you," Zoro's voice is low and husky against your ear as he presses himself closer, his breath hot against your skin.

You tremble at his words, “I-I want you, too, Zoro,” you whine. 

He lets out a low growl of satisfaction, his hands trailing down your sides as he pulls your hips back to get you closer.

"Good," he murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear from behind, “Tell me how bad you want it, y/n, Or I won’t give it to you at all.”

Your breath hitches at his ultimatum. "I want it so bad, Zoro.” you whimper needily,  “I need you to fuck me. Please."

You can’t see his face, but you swear you can feel his familiar smirk as he speaks against your ear, "That's what I wanted to hear," he murmurs, his voice dripping with satisfaction.

With a firm grip on his cock, he guides the tip to nudge at your weeping entrance, teasing you with the promise of entry. You gasp at the sensation, your breath catching in your throat as you await the intrusion.

He begins pressing himself inside you, groaning at the feeling of you stretching out around him. With each inch, he delves deeper, filling you completely with his throbbing hardness. The sensation is overwhelming, sending waves of both pleasure and pain coursing through your body.

“O-Oh, Zoro-!” you cry out weakly.

He leans forward, his breath hot against your skin as he bites along your nape, 

"Sh-Shit," he curses through gritted teeth, his voice strained with pleasure, "So tight-" His words trail off into a guttural groan as he buries himself deep inside you, unable to resist the overwhelming sensation of being enveloped by your warmth.

You gasp at the feeling of him filling you completely, your body pulsating with pleasure as you surrender to the intoxicating intrusion. 

His hand snakes up to grip the back of your neck as he finally begins to thrust in and out of you.

“Fuck-!” you whimper, your attempts to dig your nails into the wall futile against the onslaught of pleasure.

With a firm grip on your neck, he develops a steady rhythm, keeping you pressed against the wall as he moves in and out of you. Each thrust hits your sweet spot with precision, sending waves of ecstasy rippling through your body.

“Shit,” he groans, “You squeeze me so tight-”

A symphony of moans and gasps spills from your lips, mingling with his own guttural groans of pleasure. The room is quickly filled with the rhythmic sound of your bodies colliding, a passionate cacophony that echoes off the walls.

With a sudden motion, he pulls back slightly, his hand leaving your neck and landing firmly on your exposed ass, delivering a sharp spank that sends a jolt of pleasure coursing through you.

You gasp at the sudden sensation, your body instinctively arching towards him, craving more of the delicious sting. The impact leaves a tingling warmth in its wake, heightening the intensity of your arousal.

"Zoro," you whimper, your voice a mixture of pleasure and desire, your nails digging into the wall as you brace yourself for more.

Encouraged by your response, he delivers another spank, each strike awakening a primal hunger within you.

With each spank, he relishes in the way your body reacts, the way you gasp and arch towards him, begging for more.

"Such a slut for me," he growls, "You like it rough, don't you?"

You whimper in response, unable to form coherent words as pleasure courses through you, mingling with the sting of his touch.

He chuckles darkly, the sound sending shivers down your spine. "That's it," he murmurs, his voice low and husky, "Let me hear how much you enjoy it."

You moan in response, the sensation of his hand against your skin driving you to the edge of ecstasy.

The pace of his thrusts never falters as he grants you with more delicious spanks.

He’s thrusting rougher, now, impressed with how much you can take.

"You take me so good, y/n," he groans, his voice strained with desire and admiration. The praise only fuels your arousal further, spurring you on as you both chase the heights of pleasure together.

“Th-Thank you, Zoro,” you whimper weakly, “You fuck me so good-”

You're both teetering on the brink of release as he continues moving in and out of you, the tension coiling tighter with each passing moment. His breath comes in ragged gasps against your ear, matching the rhythm of your moans as you both surrender to the pleasure of the moment.

"Fuck, y/n," he groans, his voice strained with desire, "I'm so close..."

You whimper in response, the pleasure overwhelming as you feel the heat building deep within you. With each thrust, you edge closer and closer to the pinnacle of ecstasy.

With a final, desperate thrust, you both topple over the edge of ecstasy. Zoro groans as he spills inside you, unapologetically painting your insides white.

And with that, the tension that had been coiling within your lower tummy finally snaps, releasing a torrent of pleasure that sends shockwaves through your veins and straight to your head. Colors explode beneath your eyelids as you're consumed by the intensity of your climax, every nerve ending ablaze with sensation.

In that moment, there's only the two of you, engulfed throes of pleasure.

----

The following morning, as the golden rays of sunlight filter through the windows of the ship, you and Zoro emerge from his quarters, your steps in sync as you walk side by side. There's a subtle ease in the air between you, a silent understanding of the shared intimacy that had transpired between you the night before.

As you enter the dining room, the crew's eyes dart up from their breakfast plates, their expressions a mix of curiosity and amusement. Sanji's eyebrows shoot up in surprise, a knowing smirk playing at the corners of his lips, while Nami's eyes sparkle with mischief as she exchanges a glance with Robin.

Nami's mischievous grin widens as she leans back in her chair, her eyes flickering between you and Zoro. "Sounds like you two had fun last night," she quips, her tone dripping with playful innuendo.

You feel a flush creep up your cheeks at her teasing remark, but before you can respond, Zoro interjects with his usual gruff demeanor. "Mind your own business, navigator," he retorts, though there's a faint hint of amusement in his voice.

Luffy, ever oblivious to subtleties, beams at the two of you, his mouth already full of food. "Morning, guys! Did you sleep well?" he chirps, completely unaware of the implications of his question.

You exchange a glance with Zoro, a hint of amusement dancing in your eyes as you both share a silent understanding. With a shrug, Zoro responds in his typical gruff manner, "Like a log."

#zoro x reader #zoro x y/n #zoro x you #zoro #zoro roronoa x reader #zoro roronoa x you #one piece zoro #zoro roronoa x female reader #zoro x female reader #zoro fic #zoro fanfiction #zoro fluff #rorona zoro #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro #one piece x reader #one piece #one piece x you #roronoa zoro x you #roronoa zoro x y/n #one piece fanfiction #one piece scenario #one piece headcanons #zoro roronoa x y/n #ronoroa zoro #roronoa zoro fanfiction #op x reader #op x you #one piece smut #zoro smut

[growingfunwithaimain]

Amidst the rainbow of sweets, Lily hesitated over a single candy. Its shell shimmered with a mysterious blue hue, calling to her like a siren's song. With a flick of her wrist, she snatched it off the shelf and brought it to her lips. The instant she bit down, her senses were assaulted by a burst of flavor.

But the surprise didn't end there. As she savored the delight, her skin began to transform. Starting from her fingertips, a wash of indigo washed over her limbs, spreading like ink through water. By the time she finished the last crumb, her entire being had been dyed a rich shade of midnight blue.

Yet, the crowd within the candy shop carried on as though nothing had changed. Their laughter echoed against the glass cases, their voices mere background noise to the surreal tableau unfolding before them.

Just when Lily thought things couldn’t get any more interesting, her hips decided to join the party. They began to widen, expanding like a balloon filled with joy. Soon, they were rounder than ever before, hugging her frame with a confidence that matched her newfound color scheme.

Meanwhile, her thighs grew thicker, like two ripe melons ready for plucking. The denim of her jeans clung to her legs, emphasizing every muscle and curve. Even the most stoic customer couldn’t resist the urge to ogle her backside.

In the midst of all this, Lily found herself reveling in her new form. She twirled around, watching the reactions of those who dared to look. Some turned away in shock, while others openly admired her figure. For Lily, it was a moment of pure euphoria, a celebration of her own beauty.

And so, she stood tall, proudly displaying her metamorphosis to anyone brave enough to catch a glimpse. After all, what better place to showcase one's newfound glory than inside a candy store?

With each passing minute, Lily grew taller, stretching towards the ceiling like a beanstalk reaching for the sky. Her abdominal muscles flexed beneath her skin, creating ripples that would make even the strongest gym rat jealous. And just when she thought she couldn’t possibly expand anymore, her shirt gave out, exploding in a shower of confetti.

Beneath the rubble lay her bare bosom, nipples standing at attention like sentinels guarding her treasure trove. The sheer audacity of her outfit malfunction drew stares from every corner of the shop. But Lily wasn’t fazed—she knew exactly how powerful she looked.

Her gaze locked onto a young man who had been eyeing her since the beginning. He blushed furiously, his cheeks turning redder than the cherry lollipops he held. Without saying a word, Lily extended her hand, beckoning him closer. With a nod of consent, he approached, his steps hesitant yet eager.

Together, they left the candy store, arm in arm, heading toward whatever adventure awaited beyond its doors. As they walked down the street, Lily felt invincible, knowing that wherever they went, they would turn heads and start conversations. Because sometimes, the best kind of candy isn’t something you eat; it’s someone you can take home.

Another request for @realmofgoddesses! I think this has been my favorite request to work on so far! It was a lot of fun and took a long time to get it the way i wanted it but that's why im taking requests! to learn more and improve!

#breast expansion #expansion kink #breast growth #giant breasts #growth #ai art #ai girl #artificial intelligence #ai #giantess

[alwaysmicado]

save your tears

4.6k | 18+ MDNI | Dieter Bravo x f!reader

Warnings: dubcon (sex while high), alcohol & drugs, unprotected piv, rough sex, choking, loss of virginity, mention of blood, degradation/praise, hurt no comfort, mean!Dieter Summary: It’s your lucky night! Your favorite movie star, Dieter Bravo, picks you up at a club and takes you home. You don’t want to blow it by telling him you’re a virgin, do you? A/N: Never meet your heroes...and please don’t fuck Dieter Bravo raw without seeing a notarized STD test first. I’m super excited to share this fic with you and I really hope you’ll enjoy it!! Let me know your thoughts! ♥︎

Dieter Bravo masterlist ♡ main masterlist

Another kiss with a stranger, another fiery shot of tequila, another night immersed in the opulence of a luxurious club in the heart of Beverly Hills.

The pulsating beat of the music reverberates through the venue, drowning out any coherent thought. A sea of bodies sways in a synchronized rhythm, lost in the intoxication of the music, the free-flowing drinks, and the swirling lights.

You and your friends are no exception, caught up in the vibrant chaos of the dance floor, laughing and moving to the infectious energy of the night.

The tight dress you’ve chosen for the night clings to your every curve, a sleek fabric that accentuates the enticing contours of your body. Its deep, midnight black hue embraces you like a second skin, tracing the delicate curve of your breasts, descending sensuously over your torso, and accentuating the gentle swell of your hips.

As you move, the straps, delicate and barely there, become ethereal threads, caressing your skin with each sway and twirl on the dance floor. The dress’s neckline is daring, a subtle plunge that hints at mystery and allure, inviting the eyes to linger for just a moment longer.

Your choice of footwear is equally as captivating. The heels, sleek and strappy, elevate your posture and add a tantalizing sway to your every step. The ensemble not only looks exquisite but feels like a second skin. In this carefully chosen outfit, you feel an undeniable sense of confidence and allure – you feel like a goddess.

As the night progresses, and a few shots later, you find yourself losing inhibitions with each beat. The alcohol warms your veins, and the euphoria of the moment takes over. The atmosphere inside the club is charged with excitement, the air thick with the scent of perfume, sweat, and anticipation.

And then you see him.

Amidst the crowd, your gaze collides with a pair of intense, dark eyes that seem to cut through the chaotic haze. Recognition strikes you like a bolt of lightning – Dieter Bravo, the famous Oscar winner, stands at the fringes of the dance floor, his gaze fixed on you.

The look in his eyes is predatory, stirring desire deep within you. He gestures with a subtle nod of his head towards the exit, a silent command that sends your heart racing.

You excuse yourself to your friends, your words lost in the overwhelming discord of music and laughter. They barely register your departure, the night unfolding in a blur of colors and sound. The crisp air outside is a welcome contrast, a momentary escape from the heated chaos within.

You take a deep breath.

Before you know what’s happening, a strong pair of hands seizes you, pushing you against the cold exterior wall of the club. It’s Dieter, his eyes burning with desire as he takes in the sight of you. His words come out in a low, husky whisper that sends shivers down your spine.

“You’re so beautiful, baby, I couldn’t take my eyes off you,” he confesses, his breath hot against your ear. You’re trembling slightly as he pulls back a little to look into your eyes, one hand planted on the wall next to your head, the other gently cupping your hot cheek. His touch sends a jolt through your entire being and your skin tingles beneath his fingertips.

“Why don’t we take this party to a more private setting, hm? My place is just around the corner,” he murmurs, his gaze searching yours for a sign of rejection.

His proposition hangs in the air, a surreal moment that seems too fantastical to be real. Dieter Bravo, a man renowned for having his pick of any woman he desires, wants you to come home with him?

You hesitate for a fleeting moment, the thrill and exhilaration of the unexpected encounter mingling with a feeling of unease. Is this a good idea?

Oh, fuck it. 

With a breathless nod, you give in to the magnetic pull of his desire. You’re never gonna get a chance like this again in your life.

Dieter’s eyes flicker with satisfaction at your willingness and a self-assured smirk plays on his lips. “Smart choice, beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice low and seductive, intertwining with the rhythm of the music coming from inside.

With a confident yet gentle touch, he guides you to his waiting car, his warm palm resting on the small of your back.

His driver awaits, a stoic figure leaning against the passenger door with crossed arms, well-acquainted with the routine of escorting the renowned womanizer and his conquests. The man looks a few years older than Dieter, and as you approach, you can’t help but ponder the untold tales and silent observations this seasoned driver must harbor as living witness to the enigmatic world of his famous boss.

Dieter leans in to whisper something into the driver’s ear, a private exchange that ends with a wink and a grin directed at you. With a confident saunter, he rounds the car, slipping into the back seat from the other side.

“Good evening, Miss,” the driver greets you with a practiced courtesy, opening the back door and gesturing for you to step inside. In that fleeting moment, as he meets your gaze, you detect a subtle flicker of concern in his eyes, swiftly masked before you fully register its presence.

You swiftly dismiss the uneasy feeling that briefly fluttered within you and gracefully slide into the luxurious car, taking the seat beside Dieter. The plush interior envelops you, a cocoon of opulence that showcases the movie star’s wealth. As the door closes with a muted thud, the insulating quiet of the vehicle amplifies your anticipation.

The car ride is a blur of sensations.

Dieter pulls you onto his lap, his lips finding yours in a fervent kiss. His hands explore the contours of your body, a mix of escalating desire and urgency palpable in every touch. 

Glancing at the rearview mirror, the driver is a silent witness to a scene that unfolds with unsettling familiarity. Dieter’s reputation as a notorious womanizer is well-known, but the silent driver remains impassive, steering the car towards your destination.

“Fuck, baby,” Dieter whispers against your lips, his erection straining painfully against his pants. “You wanna sit on my cock right here or wait ‘til we’re home?”

You sensuously roll your hips, and he responds by squeezing your ass, a deep, guttural groan escaping his lips at the tantalizing friction.

“I want you to take me in your bed,” you purr, as the champagne and tequila flowing through your veins embolden you.

“Alright, beautiful,” he murmurs between sloppy kisses to your neck and jaw, his hand tracing the delicate skin of your shoulder before sliding down the strap of your dress with practiced ease. “I’ll give you anything you want.”

Every word Dieter utters, every caress of his hands, the heady scent of his cologne—the fact that your idol, a man larger than life, is currently drunk off your beauty—adds fuel to the intoxicating fire that courses through your body, making you acutely aware of the pulsating ache and growing wetness between your thighs.

You’ve never wanted to fuck anyone this badly.

Dieter slides down the other strap of your dress, the fabric yielding to his touch as he pulls it down, leaving it to pool around your waist and revealing your naked chest.

“Goddamn, your tits are perfect,” he whispers in awe, his hands tracing a delicate path from your shoulders down to your breasts, cupping one in each hand. “I almost forgot how good real ones feel.”

Your smile widens in response to his comment, relishing the sensation of Dieter Bravo praising your tits.

He massages them, softly at first, his touch a gentle prelude that gradually escalates in intensity as you wrap your arms around his neck, deepening your kiss, moaning against his lips. Your body responds eagerly, writhing on his lap, your swollen clit rhythmically rubbing against his hard bulge, each movement eliciting a wave of pleasure that has your eyes fluttering shut and your back arching.

Dieter leans in, spurred on by the movement of your body and your little moans of pleasure, pressing your tits together with a hunger that mirrors his escalating passion. His kisses are sloppy, a mixture of lust and possessiveness as he licks and sucks on your nipples, twirling his tongue around them.

The sensations alternate between pleasure and a tingling pain as he bites down, eliciting a desperate whimper from you that he hungrily absorbs by pressing his lips against yours once more. 

“This your first time fucking a real movie star, baby?” he murmurs, trailing kisses and bites down your sensitive neck.

Your head is spinning, and it takes you a few seconds to register what he just asked you. Even if it weren’t true, you’d be smart enough to stroke his famously big ego and tell him what he wants to hear. But, in this case, it is true.

“Yeah,” you breathe, your fingers tangled in his now-disheveled curls.

God, his hair is soft. The thought crosses your mind that being a millionaire must afford you great hair care. Just one of the perks of being one of the chosen ones, you muse with a smile.

“I promise you’ll be thinking of me every time you fuck someone else after I’m done with you, darling,” he smirks at you, satisfied with the fact he’s the first man of his stature you’ve experienced.

If he wasn’t already rock-hard before, he would be now.

You giggle and bite your lip, your dilated pupils telling Dieter everything he needs to know – you want him as badly as he wants you.

“I’ll hold you to that,” you purr, leaning in to suck and nibble on his neck while rolling your hips again.

“Oh shit,” he whispers, letting his head fall against the headrest and gripping your hips with his hands. “I knew you were a bad girl the second I saw you.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. Good girls don’t rub their needy little pussy on some stranger’s cock minutes after they met.” His breathing is strained, and he needs to concentrate hard to not come in his pants. “Good girls also don’t let me do a line off their perfect tits.” 

You pull back a little to look into his eyes, and he raises an eyebrow.

Against your better judgment, you nod, and he reaches into the right pocket of his pants to retrieve the biggest coke baggie you’ve ever seen. Goddamn, how does this guy get any acting gigs done if he does massive amounts of coke like this? His manager must be nothing short of a god.

“Push them together, baby,” he says, watching hungrily as you take your tits and press them together to create enough surface for him to put his powder on. “Fuck, that’s it.”

He pours a generous amount onto your skin, creating a line with his finger.

“You’re so fucking hot, baby,” he murmurs, planting a kiss on your warm lips. His gaze drops to the line of coke on your tits before he lowers his head, presses a finger on his right nostril, and inhales the powder in one swift motion.

The lewd, forbidden feeling of letting him do drugs off your body has your pussy clench around nothing. You’re beyond turned on.

“Phew!” He closes his eyes and shakes his head. “This is some primo shit, holy fuck. You wanna try?”

Dieter’s eyes find yours as he wipes his nose and tilts his head. “You’re never gonna find something this pure again.”

“Sure, why not,” you coo, succumbing to the excitement of the moment. One more bad decision’s not gonna kill you, right?

“Such a bad girl,” he murmurs with a smirk, then pours some coke on the back of his hand. He arranges it in a line for you and brings it closer to your face.

The fine white powder lies on his skin like a whisper of the night, and with a quick, controlled motion, you inhale. The sensation is immediate, a rush that starts from the point of contact and spirals into a heady euphoria. The sharp intensity sends a tingling sensation through your nostrils, a mix of heat and exhilaration.

In that fleeting moment, the world seems to shift.

The pulsating lights of the city take on a surreal glow, and the hum of the car’s engine becomes a rhythmic accompaniment to the rush coursing through your veins. The nightclub’s music, still echoing in your ears, melds with your newfound energy, creating a synesthetic experience that blurs the boundaries between the external world and your internal sensations.

You’ve never felt this much like yourself and not like yourself at the same time before—it’s surreal.

A tingling warmth radiates through your body, a sensation that is both invigorating and disorienting, like an electrifying surge that momentarily disconnects you from reality.

Dieter watches in real time as the coke takes effect and your pupils dilate further, your features signaling an intensified awareness of your surroundings.

“That’s it, baby,” you hear him purr before you feel his hand on the back of your neck, pulling you into a messy kiss.

You’re not entirely sure how you made it to Dieter’s bedroom.

– – –

His sheets are incredibly soft, some sort of luxurious fabric that feels heavenly against your naked skin. You’re clad only in your panties, lying on your back with Dieter on top of you, your legs spread to accommodate his hips. 

You hear music coming from a speaker somewhere in the room – he must’ve put it on when you got in. You moan as he kisses your neck, his warm tongue and lips tracing your skin, nibbling, biting, marking you. 

He props himself up with his forearms on the bed beside your head, the soft hair on his belly grazing against your skin with each rhythmic movement of his hips.

“Look at me, baby,” he tells you, breathless, eager to finally bury himself in your pussy. You open your bloodshot eyes, biting your lip at the delicious pressure he’s putting on your clit.

“Tell me you want me.”

He caresses your cheek, his fingertips leaving a tingling sensation on your hot skin. You nod in response and moan when his hard cock rubs against your sensitive clit once again.

“Hey,” he taps your cheek not so gently and bores his eyes into you. “Use your words.”

You’re startled, but a grin forms on your lips as your foggy brain registers what he’s asking.

“I want you, Dieter,” you coo, your nails digging into the meat of his ass. “I want you to fuck me.” His lips crash against yours in an instant, and you whisper, “Please,” against them as your mind drifts off into another realm again.

“Don’t worry, baby,” he murmurs as he straightens up to take off his boxer briefs. “I’m gonna give you exactly what you need.”

Your eyes follow the movement of Dieter’s hands, mesmerized, watching in slow motion as his cock springs free. Fuck. It’s a lot bigger than you’d imagined, and it’s so…beautiful. You wish he’d put it in your mouth for you to taste it, but since you can feel him pulling down your panties, you guess he’s gonna go straight to fucking your pussy.

You feel his hands on your thighs as he positions himself between your spread legs. Then, you watch as he spits on his hand and strokes his cock. You moan at the sight, wanting nothing more than for him to take you, to ravage you, to become one with you.

“Fuck, you’re so wet, baby,” he murmurs more to himself than to you, haphazardly swiping his fingers through your dripping wet folds. You can’t hold back the moan that escapes your lips when he brushes your clit.

He scoots closer, and you can feel the hairs on his thighs against yours as he guides the tip of his cock to your entrance. It’s warm, slippery, feels kinda nice. You close your eyes and turn your head.

This is it. You’re gonna have sex for the first time. 

And with none other than Dieter fucking Bravo – Oscar winner, movie star, womanizer extraordinaire. If you weren’t so out of it, you’d laugh at the ludicrousness of the situation.

He pushes in with one slow, deliberate thrust, savoring the feeling of each inch gradually disappearing into your body.

You inhale sharply, your breath catching at the initial discomfort of his cock stretching you. Your brow furrows in response, and you instinctively grip the sheets with your hands, a mix of pleasure and mild pain coursing through your body.

“Holy shit, your pussy’s tight,” Dieter groans, his hips stuttering at the sensation of being completely sheathed in you. “Feels so fucking good.”

He withdraws again just as you begin to acclimate to the girth of his cock inside you, leaving you whimpering at the sudden loss. Your hypersensitive system is so overloaded with sensations that it compels you to moan, whine, and writhe under his touch, uncertain of how to process everything you’re feeling and experiencing.

Dieter chuckles at your desperate little noises, more than ready to give you as much of his cock as he can, and to show you pleasure you didn’t know you were capable of.

If there’s one thing he takes pride in, it’s leaving his sex partners thoroughly satisfied, mind empty, covered in cum, and wanting more.

He spreads you open again in one smooth movement, your pussy eagerly devouring every inch. Pleased with your moans and the tight grip of your walls, he grabs your thighs and shifts his weight, pressing them against the mattress to penetrate you even deeper.

“Fuck,” is all you can get out as he sets a brutal pace, pushing your body up the bed repeatedly. His cock relentlessly strikes a deep spot within you, each thrust accompanied by the rhythmic slap of his balls against your ass.

“That’s it, baby. Take my fucking cock. Fuck, you’re the best slut I’ve had in a while.”

Dieter wants you to scream his name and come all over his cock. Sure. But he’s greedy and craves more than your physical surrender. He wants to etch his name into the very fabric of your desires, your being, a memory that will linger in your thoughts for the rest of your life.

The initial discomfort you’ve experienced slowly gives way to raw, carnal pleasure, a drug-induced dance of sensations that leaves you breathless. Dieter’s movements are harsh, designed to bring you to your limits, and you find yourself meeting his thrusts with an eagerness that surprises you.

The vast expanse of Dieter’s bedroom is filled with the intoxicating sound of your moans and smacking flesh, creating a dizzying symphony that envelops you in the throes of ecstasy.

“Look at me,” you hear him growl somewhere over you, and when you don’t budge, you feel his bruising grip on your jaw. “Hey, I’m not telling you again.”

You open your eyes, your eyelids so heavy you need to summon all of your strength to pry them open. Dieter’s face hovers close to yours, his breaths ragged, beads of sweat glistening on his forehead, tracing a path down his temples.

His eyes are dark, hungry, dangerous. He gazes at you like he wants to devour you, to consume you wholly. You sense the intensity of his desire, and you’re more than ready to surrender to it.

You feel his hands tighten around your neck, the diminishing flow of oxygen to your brain heightening your senses even more. As your vision blurs and your pulse quickens, you’re caught in a paradoxical dance of ecstasy and fear, an exhilarating moment that pushes you to the brink.

Dieter deliberately hits your G-spot over and over again, his cock throbbing and leaking precum at your increasingly loud moans and spasming walls. 

“Is this what you wanted, huh?” he pants, intensifying the grip on your neck and the force of his thrusts. Instinctively, you start clawing at his arms. “What a sick little thing you are, getting off on me hurting you.” 

Your eyes roll back and you feel yourself slipping away as Dieter’s pelvis puts enough pressure on your clit to bring you closer to climax with every roll of his hips.

“Oh fuck,” you faintly hear Dieter’s voice, “you’re choking the shit out of me, holy–”

You don’t hear the end of his sentence as an abrupt, violent orgasm takes over your body and mind in waves. Your walls spasm and contract uncontrollably around Dieter’s cock, every single muscle in your body tensing as you release a silent scream, caught in a tumultuous mix of ecstasy and distress.

Dieter lets go of your neck and bites down on your shoulder as he comes, emptying himself deep inside you with a guttural groan. His cock pulsates as your pussy eagerly milks and swallows up every last drop of his seed. 

He pulls out of you and collapses onto the mattress, his chest heaving, heart racing, utterly spent. His cum leaks out of you, pooling on the sheets between your thighs.

The room is heavy with the lingering scent of sex as Dieter finally catches his breath. Sweat glistens on his forehead and chest, and his erratic breaths permeate the air. You lie there, silent and still, your body sore, and your mind in turmoil.

The reality of the moment slowly dawns on you – every heartbeat sobering you up a bit more, tangled emotions leaving you disoriented.

Shit. What have you done?

“That was…holy shit,” Dieter chuckles beside you as he props his head up on his hand.

His face falls immediately as he glances at the bloodstains on the sheets. His eyes widen in shock, and a pang of guilt hits him deep. He wasn’t gentle, and you never spoke up. The room is silent for a moment before he breaks it, his voice sharp and accusatory.

“You’re bleeding.” His eyes meet yours, and the storm within them is unsettling. Your heart beats rapidly, fear coursing through you. “Tell me this isn’t what I fucking think it is.”

You look away, a lump forming in your sore throat. “I...I didn’t expect it to hurt so much,” you admit, your voice barely audible.

“Oh my fucking god.” Dieter’s tone is harsh, his face contorted with a mixture of confusion and anger. He swiftly rises from the bed, the mattress shuddering under his abrupt departure. His pacing is agitated, a restless back-and-forth that adds to the already palpable tension between you two.

You sit up against the headboard and pull up the covers to shield yourself from the chilling air that envelops you. You’re shivering. 

“Why the hell didn’t you say something? Are you trying to ruin me?”

Your heart drops. “Wha–”

His accusations hang in the air, and the room feels suffocating. Deep down, Dieter knows he should feel remorse for his actions, but instead, he redirects his hurt feelings towards you. The drugs and alcohol coursing through his system amplify his irrationality and paranoia.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” His voice rises, echoing off the walls. “Is this some sick ploy to get your fifteen minutes of fame or some shit? To expose me?”

You’re left stunned, the whirlwind of pain, confusion, and the sting of betrayal clouding your mind. The vulnerability you shared just moments ago morphs into an uncomfortable reality, a hurtful reminder of what you were to him — a warm, nameless body he could fuck.

And now, you’re a nuisance at best, and a PR nightmare at worst. 

“Dieter, it’s nothing like that," you say, pleading, attempting to diffuse the escalating tension as the walls close in on the shattered remnants of a fun night. “I didn’t know how to tell you and…it’s not a big deal, I’m okay.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he shouts, shaking his head in frustration. “I wouldn’t have fucked you like that if I you’d told me you were–” he cuts himself off, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

The resentment in his gaze sends a shiver down your spine, making your blood run cold.

“Dieter–”

“Get the fuck out of my house.”

“Please, I’m sor–”

“Get the fuck out!” he roars, the anger in his eyes intensifying.

You immediately get up and scramble to get your clothes back on, your hands shaking. You grab your belongings, trying to maintain a shred of dignity as you hastily dress.

Dieter, seething with anger and regret, roughly hands you a wad of cash from his nightstand when you’re done. 

“Here, take this. Get a Plan B or whatever the hell you need, and keep your mouth shut.”

You stare at the money in your hand, then at the man who’s throwing you out in the middle of the night after taking your virginity. The bills are cold in your hand, and you crumple them up, throwing them back at him.

“I’m not your whore, Dieter. Go to hell!”

Heels in hand, you make your way past him and out the door. You don’t stop as he calls after you, his voice strained with genuine remorse.

“I’m sorry!”

He really is.

– – –

The cold night air hits you like a slap, tears blurring your vision as you stumble away from Dieter’s mansion, the weight of what just transpired inside heavy on your shoulders.

His hurtful words echo in your mind, the throbbing pain between your legs intensifying with every step you take. Your breath falters in the frigid air, and you clutch your arms tightly around you as you make your way toward the waiting car.

The driver, standing beside the sleek vehicle, regards you with a mixture of concern and pity. His eyes have seen this scene unfold countless times before – another half-naked girl leaving his boss’s home in disarray.

You hate the way he looks at you, as if he knows more about your vulnerability than you’re willing to admit.

He opens the car door for you, and you gratefully sink into the plush leather seat. The warmth inside the car is a stark contrast to the chill outside, but it does little to ease the ache spreading through your body.

The driver takes his place behind the wheel, stealing glances at you through the rearview mirror.

“Where can I take you to, Miss?” His voice is gentle, filled with a practiced sympathy that makes your stomach churn. You hesitate for a moment, wrestling with the words you don’t want to say.

“Home,” you finally mumble, offering your address with a numb detachment. It feels like a betrayal, a surrender of your secret world to this stranger who witnesses the aftermath of Dieter Bravo’s fleeting affections.

The car glides through the silent streets, and you find yourself staring out of the window, the city lights blurred into a kaleidoscope of colors.

Your head is spinning, and the pain in your body intensifies with each passing moment. Tears escape as you touch the bruises on your neck, tracing silent paths down your cheeks. You wipe them away with the back of your hand, hoping the darkness conceals your shame.

The driver glances at you in the mirror.

“Are you alright, Miss?” he asks, his tone a delicate inquiry into the depths of your distress.

“Just…drive me home, please,” you whisper, your voice cracking with the weight of unshed tears. You don’t want his pity, his judgment. You just want to escape the haunting echoes of what happened tonight.

But you know that will never happen. Dieter got his wish after all.

You will forever remember him.

– – –

♥︎ Thank you for reading!! ♥︎

Dieter Bravo masterlist ♡ main masterlist

#dieter bravo x f!reader #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo smut #tw dubcon #dieter bravo #mean!dieter bravo #dieter bravo angst #dieter bravo fanfiction #dieter bravo x female reader #the bubble fanfiction #fic: save your tears #pedro pascal characters #dieter bravo fic #mean!dieter #smut

[doumadono]

Warnings: smut w/o plot, p in v, cunningulus, rather soft Dabi Synopsis: Dabi was fervently yearning to partake in another round of euphoria with you Requested by: anonymous

MASTERLIST

A solitary sunbeam bestowed its gentle radiance upon the finely sculpted countenance of Dabi. He contorted his visage, narrowing his eyes and gradually blinking a few times, stirred from slumber by the luminous glow. With a sigh escaping his lips, he endeavored to shield himself from the solar rays by placing an arm over his face. However, the hour had long surpassed dawn's arrival, rendering him unable to succumb to sleep once more. Instead, he found solace in the rhythmic cadence of your tranquil breaths.

Dabi's countenance slowly adorned itself with a smile as he reminisced upon the passionate intimacy you both shared the previous night. It had been a Friday evening, and the LOV team had ventured to partake in libations at the bar in their mansion. They all needed some distractions after yet another difficult week.

Observing the gracefulness with which you engaged in mirthful conversation with Toga at the booth, and subsequently coaxing Twice onto the dance floor with his endearingly awkward fist pumps and uncertain dance moves, Dabi found himself utterly captivated by your every gesture. How fortuitous was he to have encountered a woman of such beguiling charm, genuine sweetness, and innate ability to put anyone at ease? Since you joined the League, Dabi was unable to divert his gaze or restrain his touch from you. Your irresistible allure captivated him, and he unexpectedly developed a deep affection for both your radiant persona and your lively demeanor.

The comfort of being nestled in bed with you filled Dabi's heart with contentment. 

That profound affection within him was kindled once you both departed from the bustling bar, and as soon as you both crossed the threshold of Dabi's room, he fervently disrobed your undergarments, firmly grasped your already moistened pussy, and passionately claimed your lips as his own.

In the annals of time, the subsequent events unfolded as an indelible legacy. 

Presently, he beheld your unadorned physique, ensconced in velvety coverings. The satin texture of your exposed shoulder allured him, accompanied by the emergence of a hickey and faint contusions adorning your neck and shoulders. He surmised that additional bruises might trace their mark upon your hips, a testament to the fervor with which he engaged you the previous night.

Regret tinged his expression; he acknowledged that he had been overly rough in his actions. To ameliorate the situation, Dabi leaned closer, his form enmeshing with yours, commencing a tender array of butterfly kisses and delicate caresses upon the bruised regions.

"Mmm...?" You vocalized, inquisitive, as Dabi's gentle ministrations roused you from the depths of slumber, drawing you into wakefulness.

"Good morning, babe," he murmured, his lips still bestowing soft affection upon your shoulder.

"Morning," you replied, your voice laden with drowsiness. "What time is it?" you queried, stifling a yawn.

"It is 7:00 AM," Dabi responded.

"Ah, let us indulge in even more repose, then. This is a rare luxury," you remarked, rolling over to face him. Both of you typically arose at 8:00 AM on weekdays for work, making this leisurely awakening a true indulgence.

"Indeed, Y/N," Dabi chuckled, his countenance now tinged with a touch of concern. "I trust I did not exert excessive force upon you during our encounter last night?"

"Why do you harbor such thoughts?" You responded, elevating yourself onto one elbow.

"Well..." Dabi's fingertips grazed gently across your contusions. 

You tilted your head to glimpse downward, observing the interplay of light purple and green splotches adorning your skin. "Ah, mere bruises. They shall mend," you offered reassuringly. "Moreover, last night's tryst happened to be one of the most ardently passionate experiences we have shared thus far, handsome!"

"Truly?" Dabi smirked, arching an eyebrow. "Nevertheless, I find myself remorseful. Allow me to make amends." He grinned, tenderly caressing your chin before lifting it to meet his own in a soft, tender kiss.

Dabi's kisses persisted, gently tracing his tongue across your lower lip. His lips moved with such deliberation and affection that you found yourself surrendering to the sensations, becoming one with his touch. Gradually, his tongue found its way into your mouth, deepening the kiss until soft moans escaped your lips.

His ardor only intensified, and he encircled his strong arms around your back, causing you to recline atop him, legs entwined, your bosom pressed firmly against his chest, as your lips continued their entrancing dance that seemed boundless in time.

Eventually, the need for air necessitated a brief respite. "Dabi!" You gasped, gently slapping his shoulder. "Let a girl breathe at some point!"

Dabi's brows ascended in astonishment, eliciting a profound chuckle from him. You sensed the reverberation of his mirth coursing through his frame beneath you, while you found yourself captivated by the endearing laughter lines encircling his eyes, which creased charmingly when he smiled.

"Very well, then. I shall bestow my affections elsewhere," he declared with a grin. Gently, Dabi guided your form to recline upon the bed, ensuring your head is cradled amidst a cluster of pillows. With purposeful tenderness, he commenced a journey of kisses, trailing along your neck and gliding down your collarbones until reaching your bosom.

"Mmm... You're truly indulging me today, huh?" You murmured with delight. 

Dabi merely smiled, his sizable and adept hands tenderly exploring your sensitive nipples, skillfully tugging and pinching the aroused buds while massaging your flesh.

Such exquisite sensations caused your back to arch involuntarily, and your breath quickened, escaping in rapid, gasping exhalations. At the sound of your voice, Dabi felt his arousal intensify. He reveled in the symphony of your passionate cries, knowing that he was the catalyst for your pleasure, an aspect that instantly aroused him.

Your knees glided upward, constricting around Dabi's torso, drawing him intimately nearer as he persistently caressed your chest, delicately tracing along the divide of your cleavage and teasing your nipples.

"Greedy, are we?" Dabi chuckled, his mouth engulfed between your supple mounds. 

Your response was an even louder moan of delight. Prior to meeting Dabi, you had never encountered such arousal from mere fondling. Now, a gentle touch from him alone could leave you dripping with desire.

Being acutely aware of his profound effect on you, Dabi commenced a deliberate descent along your body, until his warm breath tantalized your yearning core. 

You bit your lip in anticipation. "Darling, are you — Ah!" 

His tongue skillfully traced up your folds, stifling your question with a gratifying slurp. Dabi moved his tongue adeptly, traversing in and out of your wetness, confidently navigating your most sensitive areas to elicit the utmost pleasure. He lapped over your pussy, eagerly savoring every drop of your juices.

Your arousal manifested audibly, saturating the confines of the bedroom.

"Babe, do you hear this? You're such a lascivious enchantress," Dabi playfully taunted, now inserting two fingers into your moist entrance, strategically curling them to stimulate your sweet spot. He knew precisely how to make your body quiver with delight.

As if prompted by an invisible conductor, the moment he gained entry, an ecstatic exclamation escaped your lips, "Oh my, Dabi!" Your knees instinctively encircled his wrist, intensifying the rhythm of his finger's intimate dance within you. With each fervent thrust, your body responded, the pulsating sensations reverberating throughout your being. Streams of moisture cascaded onto the sheets, coating them in a passionate display, while his skillful hands expertly attended to your arousal, one tantalizingly exploring depths, the other delicately stimulating your most sensitive spot.

"Would you cum for me, little slut?" Dabi commanded, increasing the intensity of his thrusts, and you complied. Succumbing to the pleasure, you moaned his name repeatedly as the orgasm washed over you.

With your body still vibrating from the climax, Dabi positioned himself at your wet entrance and effortlessly slid his already painfully erect member inside. He let out a guttural groan, throwing his head back; your tightness gripping him so intensely that he could barely contain the pleasure coursing through him.

"Damn, Dabi, it feels too good! You're stretching me so wonderfully!" You exclaimed, clenching the sheets tightly in your fists.

"That's it, my little slut, you're so wet for me, it's incredible." Dabi uttered, slowly thrusting his dick in and out of you. He adored the sensation of your body against his, as if you were custom-made solely for his gratification.

"Come here, baby," you coaxed, wrapping your arms around his neck as he leaned down to kiss you. 

He continued the rhythm of his thrusts, expertly grinding his pelvis against your sensitive clit, prompting you to wrap your legs around his lower back.

Your lips lavished every contour of his exquisite countenance, caressing him and intertwining your fingers through his luscious black locks. With each tender caress, you endeavored to manifest the profoundness of your affection for him.

"Dabi?" You whispered, your lips grazing the corner of his mouth.

"Yeah, little minx?" He gasped, his composure already faltering under the intoxicating pleasure emanating from your intimate connection. His biceps flexed as he supported himself above you, hips undulating with fervor as he relentlessly drove himself into you.

"I love you, Dabi. You're my everything... Oh, fuck! That's it, babe!"

Dabi hesitated, gradually slowing his pace to catch his breath. He gazed deeply into your eyes, revealing the intensity of his adoration for you. He tenderly placed a hand on your cheek, and you leaned into his touch, cherishing the intimacy of that moment. "Y/N, you're too sweet for me," he exhaled. "I love you too." He confessed softly, sealing his heartfelt declaration with another gentle kiss upon your eager lips. With those words, Dabi grunted, pressing on against you, resuming his powerful thrusts as you gasped in surprise, surrendering to the ever-increasing intensity of his ardor, each impact resounding throughout your bodies.

"Oh! Harder, harder!" You encouraged, and your moans escalated in volume. That only served to embolden Dabi further, as he firmly grasped your sides, guiding you down onto his throbbing member while thrusting his hips upward with each fervent motion.

"Babe, I'm about to..." Dabi cried out, relinquishing his usual solemn composure to the euphoria of climax, releasing his thick, warm semen into your heated core.

"Yes!" You exclaimed, the intensity of your own orgasm surging once more.

With a deep groan, Dabi collapsed upon you, his member still intimately connected to your yearning entrance.

"Oof!" You sighed playfully, emitting a giggle. Dabi, you're too heavy for me! Please, get off!" You laughed, exerting pressure against his robust shoulders.

"No!" He teased, revealing his mischievous side. You adored those moments when he broke free from his composed, stoic persona and displayed his juvenile, boyish charm exclusively for you.

Beneath all that gravity lay an insatiable, delectable beast of a man, who was well aware of the art of bringing you to ecstasy while teasingly mocking you throughout. Oh, how deeply you adored this man.

After writhing in pleasure for a little while longer, Dabi eventually relented and withdrew from your slick, wet cunt. 

You theatrically gasped, taking in deep breaths now that his weight no longer overwhelmed you, and he responded with an eye roll and a laugh.

"What time is it now?" You inquired, your chest rising and falling, a light glisten of perspiration on your forehead.

Dabi glanced at you. "I don't care. I'm not leaving the bed today."

Turning to your side, you grinned at him. "Shall we go for another round then?"

Tags: @dabislittlemouse @grossograsso @misafiryanki @indignant-alpaca

#touya todoroki #dabi x reader #dabi x reader smut #bnha x reader #dabi smut #dabi #dabi x you #dabi x y/n #mha x reader #mha smut #todoroki toya x reader #x reader smut #mha dabi #bnha smut #touya todoroki x reader

[cinnies-stories]

alex morgan / the essence of what made winning so special.

2800 words or so. I got a little carried away :) enjoy!

The stadium erupted in cheers as the final whistle blew, declaring the San Diego Wave as NWSL shield winners. Confetti rained down, and elated teammates embraced each other, their own cheers almost drowning out the roar of the crowd. Amidst the jubilation, you caught Alex's eye, and a spark of shared victory ignited between you.

As the celebration continued in the locker room, teammates exchanged high-fives and hugs. You and Alex found yourselves side by side, sharing the euphoria of your triumph. Your shoulders brushed, and stolen glances lingered a fraction longer than necessary. A subtle electricity hummed between the two of you, heightening the celebratory atmosphere.

Post-match interviews and team photos followed, each moment drawing you and Alex closer. The trophy glittered between you, a symbol of your combined efforts.

Later, in the hotel, the team gathered for a post-victory banquet. The atmosphere was charged with excitement, and you couldn't shake the magnetic pull drawing you toward Alex. Seated next to each other, the conversation flowed effortlessly, punctuated by stolen touches—a hand on the shoulder, a brief brush of fingers.

The line between teammates and something more blurred in the warm glow of success.

As the night unfolded, you and Alex found yourselves in a quieter corner of the hotel. The air was thick with unspoken words, and your eyes met once again in a silent exchange that spoke volumes. Longing glances hinted at a connection beyond the confines of your soccer triumph.

With the hotel room door closing behind Alex, the tension reached its peak. The glow of victory illuminated your faces as you stood on the precipice of something uncharted. Conversation turned to shared laughter, and stolen glances evolved into purposeful touches.

The hotel room was bathed in a soft, comforting glow, creating a haven of tranquility. You and Alex sat on the edge of the bed, the residue of her victorious return to the soccer field lingering in the air. The room seemed to echo with the triumph of overcoming unexpected challenges.

Your eyes traced the lines of resilience etched on Alex's face, a testament to her journey from motherhood back to the soccer pitch - to the winning days.

"You're incredible, Alex. I can't believe you came back after everything," you whispered, your admiration evident in your voice.

Alex smiled, a mix of exhaustion and fulfillment in her eyes. "I never thought I'd be back here either. But the team, you – it's a part of me."

Your fingers intertwined, a silent acknowledgment of the shared triumphs and struggles. You could see the strength that emanated from Alex, not just as a player but as a mother who defied expectations.

"You're the strongest person I know," you said, voice filled with sincerity. "To balance motherhood and a soccer career, it's beyond inspiring."

Alex's gaze softened, the weight of her experiences reflected in her eyes. "I wanted to show Charlie that you can pursue your passions - no matter what."

You slowly leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss on Alex's forehead. "You're not just showing her, Alex. You're showing all of us. I'm honored to be on this journey with you."

Your embrace lingered, the warmth of shared triumph and unspoken understanding enveloping you both. Alex, moved by your words, met your gaze with a depth that mirrored the vulnerabilities of motherhood and the strength it brought.

In a moment of shared surrender, you cupped the forwards face, your thumb tracing a gentle path across her cheek. Your lips met immediately in a kiss that spoke of admiration, connection, and a shared journey that surpassed the boundaries of the soccer field.

It was a tender exchange, a bridge between friendship, motherhood, and the unexpected twists life had thrown your way.

As Alex pulled away, the room held an electric charge, a magnetic pull that neither of you could deny.

You, with a subtle smile, whispered, "I meant every word."

Alex nodded, her eyes reflecting a mixture of gratitude and longing. "Thank you, Y/N. For understanding, for being here."

In the quiet aftermath of your shared moment, you found yourselves drawn to each other once again. This time, the kiss held a different resonance—a merging of your worlds, a celebration of strength, and an acknowledgment of the uncharted territory you were entering.

As you both lay side by side, the room cocooned you in a gentle embrace. The celebratory echoes of victory outside seemed distant, replaced by the quiet intimacy that filled the space between you and Alex. With whispered words of gratitude and unspoken promises.

The night became a chapter in your shared story, one marked by resilience, understanding, and the beauty of unexpected connections.

-

The morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow on the hotel room. You stirred, blinking away the remnants of sleep, your hand instinctively reaching out to where Alex should have been. The disappointment hit you like a wave as reality settled in—the space beside you was empty.

A sinking feeling crept into your chest, and you sat up, glancing around the room. The realization that Alex was not there, that the person you had connected with so deeply the night before was absent, left you with a sense of abandonment.

The hurt lingered, and you couldn't shake the feeling of being left behind. The warmth of the shared night seemed like a distant memory, overshadowed by the ache of solitude. You couldn't fathom why Alex had retreated, leaving you with a void that was both confusing and painful.

Despite the disappointment, you couldn't deny the genuine joy you had experienced in this connection. The tender moments, stolen kisses, and shared vulnerability were etched in your memory. It was a bittersweet recollection—a night that had held promise and intimacy, yet now seemed tinged with the sorrow of unmet expectations.

With a heavy heart, you traced the outline of the empty space beside you, contemplating the unspoken questions that lingered in the wake of the night's intimacy. The disappointment weighed on you, but somewhere beneath it, the memory of the shared connection held a flicker of warmth—a reminder of a night that, despite its complexities, had been a moment of genuine connection and shared vulnerability.

-

The hotel's breakfast buffet was a bustling scene of teammates reliving the previous night's triumph. You scanned the room, your gaze settling on Alex at a distant table. Determination etched on your face, you approached, but a knot of apprehension tightened in your stomach as you noticed Alex avoiding eye contact.

"Hey," you greeted, trying to mask the growing frustration beneath a smile. "Last night was incredible, wasn't it?"

Unbeknownst to your teammates, you meant a lot more than just winning the shield with San Diego.

Alex, engrossed in picking at her breakfast, gave a brief nod without meeting your eyes. "Yeah, it was something."

You hesitated, sensing a shift in the air. "You okay?"

A forced smile played on Alex's lips.

"Yeah, just tired."

The conversation hung awkwardly between the two of you, the unspoken tension palpable. Your frustration simmered beneath the surface as you tried to breach the distance Alex had created.

"I was thinking we could grab lunch later, talk about the game, maybe even about what happened afterwards?" you suggested, an attempt at casual conversation masking a deeper desire to understand the sudden change.

Alex's response was a noncommittal shrug, and she focused intently on her plate. "Maybe."

Your frustration bubbled up, but you swallowed it down, trying to empathize with Alex's potential insecurities. "Alex, what's wrong? It feels like you're avoiding me."

Alex's gaze flickered, and a vulnerability flashed in her eyes. "It's nothing, really. I have my own things to figure out."

Frustration and confusion warred on your face as you searched for words.

A sigh followed, the forward's shoulders slumping with a mix of defeat and insecurity.

"Last night happened, but it doesn't change who I am."

Right, of course.

Alex Morgan, the soccer star.

Alex Morgan, straight.

Unable to meet your eyes, Alex pushed her chair back. "I need some time, Y/N. I'll see you around."

As you watched Alex retreat from the breakfast table, her emotions in disarray, Naomi, noticed the subtle change in atmosphere. Concern etched on her face, she approached you.

"Hey. Is everything okay?" the younger defender asked, her tone filled with genuine worry.

You mustered a small smile, trying to downplay the turmoil within. "Yeah, just some post-celebration exhaustion, you know?"

Nai studied your expression carefully, sensing there was more to the story. "Just remember, relationships—whether friendships or something more—they take time and understanding."

Once again, you thought about how the young defender was incredibly wise for her age and so much more mature than you were at that age.

Naomi placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "Give her some time, Y/N. People have their own struggles. Maybe she needs a moment to figure things out."

You nodded, grateful for her comforting words. The breakfast scene continued around you two, teammates chatting and laughing, but you carried the weight of uncertainty and the unanswered questions about the connection that had unraveled overnight.

-

The hum of the plane's engines created a backdrop of distant melody as you settled into her seat, the anticipation of departure overshadowed by a quiet ache. You glanced towards the boarding passengers, heart pulsating with a mixture of hope and trepidation. The empty seat next to you yearned for the familiar warmth that Alex's presence once provided.

As the last boarding calls echoed through the cabin, your gaze lingered on the entrance, searching for the one person who had shared a night of triumph and intimacy, only to slip away in the light of day. Your stomach knotted with a bittersweet turmoil as each passing moment deepened the void beside you.

Then, there she was. Alex, a silhouette against the entrance, moved down the aisle, but instead of approaching you, she exchanged a smile with another teammate and took a seat elsewhere. The subtle rejection hung in the air like an unresolved chord, and your heart sank.

The empty seat, a poignant reminder of unspoken words and shattered connections, seemed to reverberate with the echoes of their shared moments. Your fingers traced the armrest, yearning for the touch that had once felt like a promise. The cabin lights above flickered, mirroring the flickering hope within your own chest.

The gentle hum of the plane transformed into a haunting melody, an anthem of solitude that accompanied your silent contemplation. The passing clouds outside mirrored the shifting emotions within you—a turbulent sky of uncertainty and longing.

As the plane taxied down the runway, you felt the weight of the unoccupied seat beside you, a physical manifestation of the emotional distance that had grown between you and Alex.

As the plane ascended into the sky, your eyes, like a compass seeking north, found Alex's across the aisle.

Alex's eyes, once a familiar harbor, now held a tumultuous sea of uncertainty. Lost within their depths were questions, hesitations, and the weight of uncharted territory. You sensed the struggle within, a silent plea for understanding that Alex's eyes conveyed more eloquently than words ever could.

In that fleeting moment of connection, you saw a vulnerability in Alex's gaze that mirrored the tremor in her own heart. Alex's hands, clasped tightly together, betrayed a subtle trembling—an outward manifestation of the inner turmoil she grappled with.

The symphony of the plane's engines became a muted backdrop to the silent conversation within your locked gaze. There was a yearning for a return to the warmth of shared moments, yet an unspoken understanding that something had shifted. The uncertainty in Alex's eyes was a puzzle that you longed to unravel, a puzzle whose missing pieces seemed to scatter with each passing second.

You wanted to bridge the distance, to hold Alex's trembling hands and reassure her that whatever complexities lay ahead, you could face them together.

But the plane, an intermediary in their shared journey, continued its ascent, and the distance between you and Alex remained insurmountable. Your eyes held onto each other for a moment longer, a silent acknowledgment of the uncharted territory that stretched before you, before Alex looked away, her gaze retreating like a ship disappearing on the horizon.

The tremor in Alex's hands, the uncertainty in her eyes—it left you with a lingering ache, a sense of longing for a connection that seemed to slip through her fingers like sand.

-

The sun dipped low on the horizon, casting a warm glow through the living room window. Alex sat on the couch, cradling a tired Charlie in her arms. Her medal, a symbol of triumph and challenges overcome, stood proudly on the coffee table.

"Mom, why is winning so special?" Charlie asked, her innocent curiosity echoing in the quiet room.

Alex smiled, gazing into her daughter's eyes. "Well, sweetheart, it's not just about the trophy or the game. It's about the people—the teammates who become family, the ones who support you through thick and thin. They make winning something truly special."

Charlie pondered Alex's words, her eyes wide with wonder. "Like Y/N?"

The name hung in the air, and Alex felt a subtle shift within her. She looked down at Charlie, her heart warming at the mention of you.

"Yes, sweetheart, like Y/N," Alex replied, a softness in her voice.

As Charlie nestled against her, Alex's thoughts drifted to you. The realization settled in—the depth of the connection you shared went beyond the soccer field. You had been a pillar of support, a constant presence throughout the highs and lows of this remarkable journey.

A wave of longing washed over Alex as she thought about your unwavering encouragement, the stolen glances, and the warmth of shared triumphs. The realization hit her with a clarity she hadn't fully embraced before—you were not just a teammate; you were the essence of what made winning special.

As the evening sun bathed the room in a golden hue, Alex held Charlie close, the echoes of their conversation mingling with the subtle ache of missing someone who had become an integral part of the forward's journey. In that quiet moment, surrounded by the tangible proof of victory, Alex understood that winning was about more than the accolades; it was about the people who turned those moments into cherished memories. And in the delicate tapestry of her reflections, your presence stood out as a thread that she couldn't help but miss dearly.

-

In the quiet of her living room, with Charlie in bed, as the shadows danced with the fading daylight, Alex sat alone with the weight of regret settling like a heavy shroud. The echoes of your absence reverberated through the room, and a profound sadness gripped her heart.

She reached for her phone, a glimmer of determination in her eyes. The realization of how she had distanced herself from you, how she had let insecurity overshadow your connection, weighed heavily on her soul. With trembling hands, she began to type an apology, a heartfelt confession of the regret that consumed her.

Yet, as she opened her messages, a notification blinked on the screen. Your name illuminated the darkness, and a knot tightened in Alex's chest. Her eyes scanned the words, each one a sentence of separation, a declaration of departure.

"Alex, Utah wants me. I said yes."

The room seemed to close in, and the air grew heavy with the weight of realization. Alex's heart sank, the words on the screen a painful reminder of what she had unknowingly let slip away. The regret that had fueled her desire to reach out transformed into a profound despair as she read your decision to leave.

A silence enveloped Alex, broken only by the distant sounds of the world outside. The phone slipped from her hands, as if unable to bear the weight of the truth it carried.

Alex's gaze fixated on the empty space where your name had been moments ago. She felt a profound emptiness, a void that seemed insurmountable. In the quiet aftermath, the realization hit her—the most important person in her life had slipped away, leaving behind a sense of loss that felt irreversible.

Regret became a bitter taste on her lips, and she found herself yearning for a chance to undo the distance she had created. But the message on the screen stood as a testament to a choice made, a departure that left Alex alone in the echoes of what might have been.

#uswnt imagine #uswnt x reader #uswnt woso #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso #alex morgan x reader #alex morgan imagine

[buckttommy]

i just don't think michonne has ever met the version of her husband that rick currently is tbh, like. she's seen him broken in the wake of the whole negan thing, of course, but 8+ years in captivity and being told he will never, ever, ever see his family and friends again even after mutilating himself has this man demoralized. i kind of said it in the tags before on someone else's post but rick in the last twenty minutes of gone is the most like himself that he's been since the series started and i just don't think that, in all her wild imaginings of finding this man, the love of her life.... i don't think she ever imagined that he'd be...like. different. you know? i think the only options she allowed herself to consider were "he's alive and he's being held captive and i'm going to find him and we're going to fight and even if it's not okay everything will be okay" but i just do not think she ever considered. my husband will be a prisoner and he will carry a prisoner's trauma and even when i find him there will still be a noose around his neck and i'm just, like. i don't know. god it makes me crazy. maybe i'm talking out of my ass and i'm completely wrong. we'll see more as the story unfolds but i just love the idea of the euphoria of finding him needing to make space in order to coexist with the fact that the person she found, while still inherently her man, is also virtually a stranger. very sexy if true

#jack stop calling potential creative choices “sexy” challenge #tv: the walking dead: the ones who live #tv: the ones who live #towl: 01 x 02 #towl spoilers #richonne #prev. evcndiaz (temporary url change)

[saintels]

ᝰ 𝟏𝟖+ 𝑴𝑫𝑵𝑰. [ smut/brainrot ] ꒷꒦

“been thinkin’ bout you all day, angel.”

she smells so sweet and the familiar, comforting aroma fills your senses to relax the tension you didn’t know was cramped deep in your head. there’s notes of her musky cologne, her hemp cigarettes, soft laces of warm caramel and what you recognise as her favourite fruit-based liqueur. she grazes her thumb over the apple of your cheek as your tipsy gaze breaks a smirk onto her lips.

her nose is brushed by the rosy flush of her high, shading the constellation of freckles that paint her nasal. her eyes are almost matching, the hues dulled to make her green irises pop.

you’re both tucked away in a dark corner of the house party, unmindful to the world around you.

“oh yeah?”.

your voice is a whisper and, in all honesty, you’re not even thinking about what’s coming out of your mouth. your attention is all on her. she’s just so fucking pretty.

she hums, nodding as her thumb drags over your balmy lips until they allow her to pry them apart softly. “mhm,”.

she lifts her thumb and watches as your tongue lolls out. you knew exactly what to do. her good, sweet girl. she watches through hooded eyes as the pink muscle rolls against her thumb, silken under her skin before you take the tip in between your lips.

“thinkin’ bout how sweet you looked in my bed last night, how you’d look there again tonight.” your blown eyes silently beg her. keep going.

“how i had you screaming on my cock, fucking you dumb.”

she doesn’t miss the way your thighs clench, taking her hand from your mouth to rest on your jaw.

“thinkin’ of all the different ways I could have you. creamin’ on my tongue,” she remembers the saccharine taste fondly, “creamin’ on my fingers.”

her hand rests at the base of your throat, thinking out loud.

“maybe i could even get you to squirt again.”

honey drips from every single filthy word that falls from her lips. whines roll and rumble in your throat as you grip the soft material of her flannel, desperation clawing at your skin with sharp nails and butterflies fluttering against the places inside of you where you need her the most.

you’re deaf to the party now and you couldn’t give any less of a fuck about who’s eyes were obsessing over the scene unfolding.

“that sound good, pretty?” she already knows the answer, “wanna go home and let me take care of this pretty pussy again?”.

ellie was a girl of her word, a promise keeper deep in her heart. so in the pale moonlight, on the soft spread of her emerald sheets; she was on her knees, ready to paint visions of stars and moons behind your closed eyes as she took you to a heaven filled with sweet, pearly arousal and blazing, toe-curling, body-tremor filled euphoria.

a message from lina: sorry this became a bit more self-indulgent then I wanted, I hope you enjoyed nevertheless. I promise there’s way better stuff coming soon, I’m just trying to ease back into the swing of it after my little break down lol. signed with a million kisses — L ᥫ᭡

INBOX/REQS: OPEN.

#pretty much just dirty talk with ellie #ellie williams #smut #x reader #f reader #fem reader #┆ 𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐬 #br:elliewilliams #female reader #f! reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x reader smut #the last of us #the last of us part 2 #part ii #pt ii #lesbian #lgbtq

[forsworned]

Thank you for the Hesh content, omg I love every single post you make of him!

OMG YOURE WELCOME BABYGIRL IM JUST SO INLOVE WITH HIMSNFJNVFSJV HERES SOME MORE HESH CONTENT BECAUSE I NEED TO GET IT OUT OF MY HEAD <3333

MUNCH ft! DRUNKHUSBAND!HESH

𓈒༑•̩̩͙ 𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌: 𝗌𝖾𝗑𝗎𝖺𝗅 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗍, 𝗍𝗂𝗉𝗌𝗒/𝖽𝗋𝗎𝗇𝗄𝖾𝗇 𝖼𝗎𝗇𝗇𝗂𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗎𝗌, 𝗁𝖾𝗌𝗁 𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗂𝗉𝗌𝗒 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗌𝗈 𝗌𝗈 𝗌𝗈 𝗌𝗈 𝗉𝗎𝗌𝗌𝗒 𝖽𝗋𝗎𝗇𝗄 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝖿𝖾𝗒

⤷ links: masterlist rules buy me a coffee!!

You were such a lightweight. You knew it, he knew it, everyone knew it. So when you're both stumbling back home from the bar, drunkenly waving to the rest of the Ghosts goodbye as Hesh holds you up to keep your feet planted firmly on the floor it's just all giggles from here on out. He wasn't nearly worse off as you were, clambering into bed as you give him a sexy pose and wink at him in an attempt to seduce your own husband. Hesh can't help but cock an amused brow at you between chuckles as he's helping you out of your heels.

And suddenly you're getting all teary-eyed and pouty. "Baby?"

"Yes baby?" He responds, trying his damn hardest to peel off your stockings.

Your lip jutting out even more, trembling as your voice quivers. "I love you so much, baby."

His brows raise and scrunch up together, tenderly gazing at you and his voice softens. "I love you more, baby."

He lets out a shaky 'aww' as his own lip juts out, the corners of his lips curving upward in a coquettish half-smirk as he finally shucks off your tights and mounts. Dulcet, tipsy kisses smothering themselves all over your lips, cheeks, nose, eyes.--anywhere he can get to he's laying the most candied, buzzed smooches on the exposed parts of your skin and it's igniting a fire in the depths of your groins.

A diminutive whimper leaves your lips as you cord your lithe fingers into his soft, dark hair laden with pomade. Who the hell told him to do that (you literally did it for him before you two left for the bar). You didn't know, and you didn't care. The feeling of desire surges through your body in the form of goosebumps at his fervent touch. "Oh, David." You coo, squeezing your thighs together and he's not stopping his feverish minstrations.

In fact, your little sighs and squirming is fueling the inferno, tenting in his boxers. "What, baby?" He whispers, in between kisses as he starts to delicately imbibe your cushiony earlobe. That was what truly made you buck your hips, grasp tightening on his locks as you moan out and he's already kissing you down your body to your inner thighs.

Legs spread, pussy on full display as he stares at your dewy, succulent folds before he's full-on assaulting it with tongue. Saliva mixing with your arousal and your hands are flying to his shoulders, clawing his skin as you let out an enraptured whine. "Fuck...! Davi...David!"

"So fuckin' good. You taste so good, [name]." He murmured, lapping you up at a dangerously quick pace. It so fucking filthy the way he's spitting on your cunt and supping you up like your his last meal. Sturdy hands clasping onto your thighs to keep your thighs propagated open, so he can continue devouring your overflowing cunt. Juices trickle down his lips, dribbling over his chin as he hums against the engorged flesh of your furls.

Fluttering eyelids reveal the whites of your oculars as your chest pitches at the euphoria of his raffish movements. "Oh my...! David...David I'm gonna cum!"

So good. It felt so fucking good. For you, Hesh was the biggest munch and drunk Hesh was a horny Hesh, only wanting to please you with the most toe-curling, pussy convulsing orgasms. The pyre in your belly, beginning to peak and the weakened, dragged-out sobs were a surefire telltale sign that you were going to be cumming all over his mouth.

And this only bolsters him, long, swift licks to your puffy clit that causes you to arch your back, and the tingly, inviting feeling of your climax begins to unfold all over your body. It pleasantly dissipates like ocean waves crashing onto the shoreline, seafoam bubbles fizzling as they reach the sand.

But Hesh is still going. Overarousing the fuck out of your cunt, savoring your sweetness as you squirm at his hyperactive touch, pushing his head away until he releases the hold his lips have on your clit. He licks his mouth like he's just had the best meal of his life. And if you asked him if he had, he would surely beam at you with that brilliant, sexy smile of his and tell you, "Hell yeah."

But you're too fucking tired for that, heaving from the insane orgasm your husband just gave you. He bestows your pussy with a soothing kiss before resting his head on your quivering thigh.

"David?" You call out softly to him, caressing the back of his neck letting his hair prickle against your palm. But he's fast asleep, konked the absolute fuck out and you're not even coherent enough to wake him. "Love you."

"Love you, too." He murmurs half awake, slotting another sweet kiss to your skin and you can't help but giggle at him. He always wanted the last "I love you".

#call of duty #david hesh walker #cod hesh #call of duty ghosts #cod ghosts #hesh cod #hesh cod ghosts #hesh smut #call of duty fanfic #call of duty x reader #call of duty imagines #hesh walker x reader #hesh x reader #david hesh walker x reader #david hesh walker smut #cod #writers on tumblr #writeblr #cod smut #call of duty smut #cod x reader #call of duty x you

[thenighthekate]

I could never blame him (t.k.)

Weave your fingers in mine. Don't let me walk away like you never wanted me to stay.

His rough fingers swirled all over my thighs, the flesh between his palm squeezed until it turned rosy pink. My mind was hazy, smoke dancing in my lungs, my eyes glazed and halfway shut.

It felt therapeutic, moments like these when it was just the two of us inside of a domestic bliss. The sun rising above the horizon, morning setting in as birds sang their lustic melodies.

I shifted my hips slightly, the grass around me practically melting into my body as I laid down. His head was on my stomach, fingers still drawing random figures on my legs, my dress scrunched up around my waist. The sky around us glowed soft pink, strands of light shining above us and hitting the sides of his face. Heaven was a place on earth with him, felt like the world was built for just the two of us.

My nails scratched his scalp, the other one holding a cigarette while I hummed along to the song in my head. The air was cool and sharp, but with his strong arms around my torso I felt a rush of relief, euphoria. It was his love that kept me alive.

I could feel the soft kisses left upon my stomach in chaotic patterns, his soft breath hitting my abandonment whenever he leaned down.

" I love you." His voice was thick like honey, but I got too close, I got too close and got burned. " You're poisoning me." He often called me poison ivy, like I was the one turning the gears in our brain, making us run back to each other. His sick love caused kalopsia, making me delusional. Making the delusion of things being more beautiful than they actually are appear where my heart should be laying.

He had me unfolded, all of my weak spots drilled into his head. I should run, I should cry, but I love it. And even when his cruel words stabbed daggers into my already open wounds, he can just kiss those scars away. At the end of the day it was me laying with him.

#tom kaulitz #thenighthekate #tom kaulitz angst #tom kaulitz fluff #tom kaulitz smut #tom kaulitz x reader #tokio hotel #tom kaulitz x y/n #fanfic

[praisethegabs]

ATARAXIA

ID!Professor!Leon Kennedy x Student!F!Reader

euphoria masterlist

summary: after everything that happened between you, Chloe, and Leon, your relationship with him is exposed to the entire college. Now, Leon must face the consequences from his acts, which puts him in a very difficult position.

warnings: age gap, reader is in college and in mid 20s while Leon is in his 30s. NSFW content, delicate to rough sex, p in v, oral receiving (both), praise kink, degradation kink (eventually), use of pet names (bunny), vaginal fingering, masturbation, cum swallowing, dom!leon and sub!reader. leon is insecure af. oc named chloe as the reader's best friend.

word count: 5480k

a/n: the third and final part for euphoria. this took some time to write because I wanted to make it perfect and bc let's be fair, leon needs a happy ending, even if it's an au.

ATARAXIA is a state of freedom from emotional disturbance and anxiety; tranquility.

The auditorium was pure chaos.

The air was thick with tension as college students, wide-eyed and in shock, watched the paramedics and police officers rush to the scene. Chloe, once a kind and popular student, now lay motionless on the stage, surrounded by a pool of crimson. No one knew she had attempted to harm Leon, their beloved professor, but they knew it had ended tragically.

The harsh glare of flashing red and blue lights bathed the room in an eerie, surreal glow. Paramedics worked frantically to stabilize Chloe, their efforts underscored by the distant wail of sirens. As they carefully lifted her onto a stretcher, a collective gasp escaped the onlookers. The bullet wound, a painful testament to the chaos that had unfolded, was a chilling reminder of the violence that had erupted in their peaceful college.

Leon, who had always seemed unshakable, was now being attended to by paramedics. Blood seeped from a graze on his arm, but his focus remained on Chloe and you. His expression torn between anguish and relief that she had been stopped.

Amid the chaos, the room fell into a hushed silence as an unexpected revelation rippled through the crowd. Their phones started to ring, and suddenly, they were all looking at you and Leon.

Finally, a notification caught your Amid the chaos, the room fell into a hushed silence as an unexpected revelation rippled through the crowd. Their phones started to ring, and suddenly, they were all looking at you and Leon. When you saw what it was, your heart skipped several beats.

Despite the blackmail, the threats, and the attempt to kill one of you, Chloe successfully exposed your secret to everyone. And now, their eyes, all of them, were looking at you. Judging you.

You were now the main character in this play, who had watched the chilling drama unfold before you. Found yourself at the center of it all. Your intimacy is practically exposed to the world without your permission.

A close friend of Chloe, you had never suspected that Chloe's murderous intentions were tied to the deep, hidden affection she held for you. The tension in the room grew as eyes turned toward you, piecing together the fragments of a complex and clandestine relationship that had ignited this tragic event.

As paramedics wheeled Chloe out of the auditorium, the weight of the truth settled upon the students. The bond between their professor and you was now exposed, a web of emotions that had pushed Chloe to the brink. The room buzzed with a mixture of shock, sorrow, and disbelief, and the college students would forever carry the memory of this fateful night with them.

After one week since Chloe tried to end one of you, Leon was now removed from his position, and a new temporary professor was taking his place.

As for you, well, you hadn't shown up since everyone knew about your secret. You asked one of your friends to give you the content of the classes so that you could keep up with your studies. The big problem was that you isolated yourself from the world and just started ignoring everyone, even Leon. Of course, after what happened that night, he didn't try to call you or text. He just thought it was for the best to give you some time to process everything.

He needed time as well.

The worst was the aftermath. The press released a note about the attack, the scandal involving Leon and you. Parents were calling, journalists were in front of the college asking everyone about Chloe and more details between your romance with him. It was a mess.

Leon knew what was about to happen with him. He couldn't leave his home without being stalked by reporters, trying to get a word from him. He couldn't even talk to you to know if you were okay. All he had left was his ex-fiancé.

He was ready to leave his apartment to go see her when he received a call. It was from the director and he needed to go to college. Leon sighed heavily. He was already expecting the worst.

He drove to the college, not ready to face that place again, but he had no other choice. When Leon went inside the building, everyone were looking at him, whispering between them. Kennedy ignored all of this, and he made his way to the director's office.

The oak-paneled room was suffused with an air of gravity as the College Board members gathered around the long, polished mahogany table. Dr. Evelyn Mitchell, the stern-faced Dean of Academics, cleared her throat, her fingers tracing the ridges of her reading glasses.

"Thank you all for coming on such short notice," she began, her voice carrying the weight of authority. "As you're all aware, we find ourselves entangled in a most distressing situation involving one of our own faculty members, Professor Leon S. Kennedy."

A murmur of agreement rippled through the room as the board members exchanged apprehensive glances. Leon was shaking. Dean Mitchell continued, her tone unyielding.

"It has come to our attention that Professor Kennedy has been involved in a most scandalous affair with one of our students, which we'll preserve the identity." Her words hung heavily in the room.

Seated at the head of the table, Leon looked pale and disheveled, his normally confident demeanor shattered. He met the collective gaze of the board members, beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

"We can not ignore the grave ethical breaches here," interjected Dr. Samuel Patterson, a senior board member, his brows furrowed. "And then there's the matter of Chloe Thompson. She attempted to murder both Professor Kennedy and our student"

"Chloe's actions have brought a shadow over this institution, and we can ill afford further scandal. It is with deep regret that we must take drastic measures to protect the integrity of this college." Nodding in agreement, Dean continued.

Leon swallowed hard, his heart pounding in his chest. He knew that the consequences of his actions would be dire, but the gravity of the situation was now overwhelming.

Dean Mitchell looked directly at Leon.

"Professor, in light of your actions and the threat this poses to the reputation of our college, the board has no choice but to dismiss you from your position, effective immediately."

The room fell into a heavy silence as Leon's career and reputation crumbled before him. He struggled to find words, his voice catching in his throat.

"We will also cooperate fully with the authorities regarding Chloe Thompson's actions," Dr. Patterson added, his gaze stern. "We must ensure that justice is served in this matter."

With that, the College Board decision was set in motion, sealing Leon's fate and casting a long shadow over the once-respected institution. He was devastated, but he had no other choice. Leon nodded his head and left the place silently.

He had nowhere else to go.

Leon's steps echoed through the streets as he trudged towards your house. The chilly night air clung to him, and his mind raced with the words he would use to explain what had just transpired in the college board meeting. He knew this wasn't going to be easy.

The soft glow of your porch light welcomed him as he reached your front door. He paused for a moment, taking in a deep breath to steady himself before he rang the doorbell.

Inside, you sat on your couch, your heart pounding with anxiety. You had heard about the emergency meeting through gossip from the other students, and your palms were clammy with worry about Leon's fate. The doorbell's chime startled you, and you jumped to your feet, rushing to answer it.

When you opened the door, your eyes met Leon's troubled gaze. You could see the pain etched across his face, and your heart sank.

"Leon," you whispered, your voice trembling. "What happened in the meeting?"

Leon hesitated for a moment before he stepped inside, his shoulders heavy with the burden of his news. He took your hands in his, the touch of your fingers providing some solace in the midst of the storm that had just torn through his life.

"They fired me," he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. "The scandal, what Chloe did. They used it as a reason to let me go. They said it's tarnishing the school's reputation."

Your eyes welled up with tears, and you pulled Leon into a tight embrace.

"I can't believe this," you whispered, your voice choked with emotion. "I'm so sorry, Leon."

He held you close, the weight of this secret relationship and the pain of Chloe's attack pressing on both of you. Sure, you two knew the risks, but nothing had prepared you both for this moment. As you two clung to each other in a cozy living room, the future seemed uncertain, but your love remained resolute, a small beacon of hope in the face of adversity.

"I'm so sorry for screwing up..." you whisper again to him as you remain hugging him.

Leon sighed, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "I know, sweetheart. I never imagined it would come to this either. Losing my job, the scandal... it's all a nightmare."

As you two spoke, Leon couldn't help but replay the sequence of events in his mind. The clandestine meetings, the stolen glances during lectures, the growing attraction that had blossomed into a passionate relationship. It had all seemed so exhilarating at first, but now he couldn't deny the pain it had caused, not just to himself but to you, his students, and the university.

Your eyes welled up with tears. "What are we going to do now, Leon?"

Leon took a deep breath, the reality of the situation settling heavily upon him. "I need to figure out what comes next," he replied, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "Maybe it's time for me to step away from everything, at least for a while."

You nodded slowly, your sadness deepening. "And us?"

Leon hesitated, searching for the right words. "I care about you deeply. But it wasn't your fault, baby girl. I wanted you, and I knew the risks as well. " Leon smiles gently, his hand touching your face. "As for us, we'll be fine, I promise"

You sighed, and then you buried your face on his neck. His life was now ruined thanks to you, and you couldn't let this feeling go, no matter how many times he said it wasn't your fault. You knew it was.

"Don't look at me with those puppy eyes, I know you're blaming yourself for what happened," Leon says. His voice is soft and kind, and you know he just doesn't care anymore.

"I just can't stop thinking this is all my fault..." you whispered, your eyes already tearing up with guilty.

"Look, maybe it's for the best. Now we don't have to hide anything from anyone and... and we can be together" Leon comforts you, his thumb wiping the tears from your face. "Come on, bunny, let's do something together, shall we?"

"Like what?" You ask him, sniffing a little. "Sometomes I think I don't deserve you"

"Why would you think that?" Leon asks, surprised. For a moment, he seemed really sad. Noticing that, you chuckled.

"I mean, you could be married by now... and instead, you're dating a girl from the college. You're so kind, funny, sweet, and smart..." you said, smiling at him.

Leon blushed hard with your compliments. After almost one year together, he still struggled with your kind words. Somehow, he sounded insecure, but you were always there to remind him he also deserved happiness.

"Let's cook something special," you suggested, trying to lift up his mood and yours as well. "Remember how we used to experiment with recipes at your place? We always had so much fun in the kitchen."

Leon's eyes lit up at the memory. Cooking had been your secret escape from the stress of academia. "You're right. Cooking always made me forget my worries."

You took his hand and led him to the kitchen. You two started rummaging through the cabinets, pulling out ingredients and pots and pans. As you both worked together, chopping vegetables and measuring spices, the tension in the room began to melt away. Leon found solace in the familiar rhythm of cooking.

"So, what are we making today, my lovely baby girl?" Leon asked with a grin.

You winked at him. "How about your famous homemade pasta with that special marinara sauce of yours?"

"You've always been a fan of that, haven't you?" Leon chuckled.

You nodded, your eyes sparkling. "I still am."

You two continued to cook, your movements synchronized as if you two had been doing this for years. The kitchen filled with the aroma of simmering tomatoes and herbs. As you and Leon sat down to enjoy your meal, Leon couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for having you by his side.

As the soft morning light filtered through your curtains, you slowly opened your eyes. Your cozy bedroom was bathed in a warm, golden glow, and the scent of freshly brewed coffee wafted through the air. You blinked a few times, trying to shake off the grogginess of sleep. Then, as you pushed yourself up in bed, you saw it: a tray laden with a beautifully arranged breakfast, complete with a vase of fresh flowers, sitting on your nightstand.

Your heart skipped a beat when you saw Leon standing by the window, his tall frame silhouetted against the rising sun. His back was turned to you, and he seemed lost in thought. Your gaze shifted back to the tray, and you realized with a touch of amazement that he'd prepared all your favorite foods.

"Leon?" Your voice trembled as you called his name.

He turned around, and your eyes met. The connection between the two of you was still as strong as ever, despite the passage of time.

"Good morning, sweetheart" Leon greeted you softly, his eyes filled with warmth.

"Morning," you replied, your voice still tinged with surprise. "What's all this?"

Leon walked over to your bedside and set the tray down carefully. "I wanted to do something special for you today," he explained, his fingers brushing a strand of your hair away from your face.

You couldn't help but smile, even though your heart ached with the unspoken tension about the previous events. You reached for a plate of fluffy pancakes and a steaming cup of coffee.

As you nibbled on a bite of pancake, you finally gathered the courage to broach the subject that had been haunting you for weeks. "Leon, about college…" you hesitated, your words catching in your throat.

Leon's expression grew serious, and he sat down beside you. "Sweetheart, I know it's been hard for you, especially after what happened with us. But I want you to know that you're stronger than you think, and you have the right to pursue your dreams."

Your eyes filled with tears as you looked at him. "But you know the scandal, Leon. It's been all over the news. People whispering, judging. I can't face them, can't face the looks and the questions."

Leon reached out and gently wiped away your tears with his thumb. "I understand your fears, baby girl, and I won't pretend it's going to be easy. But sometimes, facing our fears head-on is the only way to truly overcome them. You have a bright future ahead of you, and I'll be here to support you every step of the way, no matter what you decide."

"Promise?" You sniffed a little, a smirk slowly appearing on your lips.

"Pinky finger promise" Leon smiles, and the way he looked at you made your heart melt. "Now, finish your breakfasts, go get some bath and then I'll let you in the college, alright?"

"Yes, sir" you smiled, drinking your coffee.

As the warm water cascaded over you, you relished the revitalizing sensation of your morning shower. You wrapped yourself in a plush towel, steam swirling around you. In your bedroom, you methodically selected your outfit for the day - a comfortable pair of skinny jeans, your black sneakers and an old shirt from Leon.

As you stood by your mirror, applying a touch of makeup, you caught sight of yourself, your eyes reflecting a mix of excitement and determination. You had to remind yourself that was nothing to fear.

Just then, there was a knock on your bedroom door. You turned, not surprised to see Leon standing there, a devilish grin on his face, and a motorcycle helmet in his hands.

"What are you doing with that?" You asked, curious.

Leon's eyes sparkled mischievously as he replied, "Well, I thought we could spice up your day a bit. How about a ride on my motorcycle?"

Your heart skipped a beat. You had always been intrigued by Leon's motorcycle but had never dared to ask for a ride. Today seemed to be the day for spontaneity.

"You sure you trust me to not scream and fall off?" You chuckled nervously

"I promise to go easy on you. It'll be an adventure you won't forget." Leon laughed, his laughter as warm as the morning sun streaming through your window.

You couldn't resist that invitation, your sense of adventure overtaking your hesitations. You nodded, a smile spreading across your face. "Alright, Leon, let's do it. But you better keep your promise."

With that, you finished getting ready, your heart racing with a mix of excitement and a hint of nervousness. College would have to wait just a bit longer this morning.

Leon revved the engine of his sleek black motorcycle, the deep rumble vibrating through the air. He had a proud grin on his face as he turned to you, who was perched behind him, wearing a brand-new leather jacket he'd bought you for the occasion.

"Ready for the ride of your life?" he asked, his voice barely audible over the purring engine.

You clutched onto him, your arms wrapped tightly around his waist. You nodded, your heart racing with a mix of excitement and nervousness. This was your first time on a motorcycle, and you trusted Leon with your life.

Leon gunned the throttle, and the bike shot forward, the wind whipping at their faces. Your heart leaped into your throat, but you couldn't help but laugh as the adrenaline surged through your veins.

The open road stretched out before you two, a ribbon of asphalt disappearing into the horizon. Leon expertly maneuvered through traffic, the bike responding to his every touch. You couldn't help but feel a surge of pride as you held onto him, knowing you were riding with a pro.

As you two left the city behind and the scenery changed to rolling hills and lush green fields, you relaxed more. The wind carried the scent of fresh grass and blooming flowers, and you leaned into Leon's back, feeling the warmth of his body and the solidness of the bike beneath you.

Leon leaned to the side, and you could hear his voice clearly now. "You okay back there?" he shouted over the wind.

You nodded, your face breaking into a wide grin. "More than okay! This is incredible!"

He continued to ride, the world around you a blur of colors and sounds. Your initial nerves had given way to an intoxicating sense of freedom. You couldn't believe you'd waited so long to experience this with Leon.

As he approached the college campus, Leon slowed the bike, smoothly bringing it to a stop. You dismounted, your legs wobbly from the exhilaration of the ride.

"Well, what do you think?" Leon removed his helmet and turned to you, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

You beamed at him. "That was amazing, Leon. I can't believe I waited this long to ride with you."

He leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. "Glad you finally did. Now, let's get you to your first day back at college. And who knows, maybe we'll have more adventures like this in the future."

As they walked toward the entrance, you couldn't help but notice the glances from passing students and faculty. Whispers followed you two like a shadow, and it felt as though every set of eyes in the vicinity was fixed on you.

Leon sensed your discomfort and squeezed your hand reassuringly. "You're going to be okay, baby girl," he whispered. "It's a new week, and people will move on."

You tried to smile, but the weight of judgment from those around you was palpable. You had worked hard to rebuild your life after the scandal, and you didn't want to be defined by your past.

As you both entered the college building, you two passed a small group of students who openly stared and exchanged hushed remarks. Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, and you quickened your pace, practically dragging Leon along.

Both of you reached your classroom, where you both shared a pot of memories together, and your anxiety heightened. The room was filled with students, some of whom you recognized from the previous semester. You had hoped for a fresh start, a chance to focus on your studies without the specter of the scandal hanging over you.

You whispered to Leon, "I can't do this. I can't face them."

"You can, baby girl. You're strong, and you deserve to be here. Don't let their judgment define you." Leon turned to you, his expression sympathetic.

Taking a deep breath, you nodded, determined to face your fears. You entered the classroom, your head held high, and took a seat at the front. The murmurs and glances continued, but you ignored them as best as you could. As the professor began the lecture, you focused on the material, determined to prove to yourself and everyone else that you belonged there, scandal or no scandal.

You couldn't change your past, but you could shape your future. Leon, standing by the door, watched you with pride and unwavering support, before leaving. He texted you later, just to let you know you could call him any time.

The room was filled with the usual buzz of students taking notes and engaging in discussions. But as the lecture continued, your mind began to drift back to a painful memory you had long tried to bury.

Chloe.

Your thoughts spiraled back to that fateful night when Chloe had turned on you, a night of betrayal that had left you scarred both emotionally and physically. As the memories flood your mind, your heart rate quickened. You could feel your palms getting clammy, your breath coming in shallow gasps.

The classroom seemed to close in on you, and you fought the overwhelming panic threatening to consume you. Desperate to regain control, you left the classroom and fumbled in your bag for your phone and dialed Leon's number.

Your trembling fingers hit the call button, and you held the phone to your ear. Leon's voice came through, concern evident in his tone.

"Hey, baby girl, what's wrong?"

Tears welled up in your eyes as you tried to speak, but your words came out as choked sobs. You struggled to find your voice to explain the memories that were suffocating you.

"Baby girl, I'm on my way," Leon said, his voice steady and reassuring. "Just stay on the line with me. Focus on your breathing."

You clung to his words like a lifeline, inhaling and exhaling as he guided you through a series of calming breaths. With his support, you slowly began to regain control over your racing heart and racing thoughts. Minutes felt like hours, but eventually, Leon's familiar motorcycle engine could be heard in the distance.

You hung up the phone and rushed outside, feeling a wave of relief wash over you as you spotted Leon approaching. He parked the motorcycle and rushed to your side, wrapping his arms around you in a comforting embrace. You buried your face in his shoulder, tears streaming down your cheeks.

"I've got you, baby girl. You're safe now." Leon held you close, murmuring soothing words.

"I can't stop thinking about her..." you said to him, sobbing. "And I can't be here anymore"

Leon sighs, not saying a word. He knows you're struggling with everything that happened, mostly because Chloe was your best friend. And he knows everything gets worse because you still need to go to your classes. And then, he has to remind himself you're not like him.

"Would you feel better if you... visit her?" Leon suggests, biting his lower lip with uncertainty.

"See her? I mean... literally see her?" You glance at him, and then he nods. "I don't want to make this uncomfortable for you"

"Hey, it's okay. I'm a grown man, I can handle it" Leon smiles again, still using his thumb to wipe your tears away.

You nod, and then you put your helmet. Leon pulled up to the imposing gates of the mental institution, his grip on his motorcycle tightening as he glanced over at you. He sighed again, and your knuckles were white from clutching a crumpled tissue. Your eyes were swollen from crying, but determination flickered within them.

"Are you sure you're ready for this, baby girl?" Leon asked, concern lacing his voice.

You nodded, your voice wavering. "I need to do this, for Chloe and for myself. I can't carry this hatred anymore."

With a heavy sigh, Leon parked his motorcycle, and you both stepped out. The sterile smell of the institution hit you as you two made your way to Chloe's ward. It had been weeks since that dreadful night when Chloe had attacked you and Leon, leaving scars both physical and emotional.

Chloe's room was at the end of a long hallway. You hesitated before gently knocking on the door. A nurse opened it, granting you two access. Chloe, once vibrant and full of life, sat in a chair by the window, her gaze unfocused.

"You?" Chloe whispered, her eyes slowly focusing on you.

You took a hesitant step forward. "Chloe, it's me. I wanted to see you."

She hesitated, and for a moment, you thought it was her again, not that creepy psychopath that threatened you.

"I'm so sorry. I don't know what came over me that night. I should never have done that to you and Leon." Chloe's face contorted with guilt and sorrow.

"Chloe, I've been angry, hurt, and terrified for so long. But I can't hold onto that anger anymore. I want to forgive you." Tears welled up in your eyes, but you fought to keep your composure.

Chloe's eyes filled with tears as she reached out for your hand. "I don't deserve your forgiveness, but I'm grateful for it."

You two talked for hours, reminiscing about your shared memories and the bond that had once been unbreakable. Your heart ached with the weight of forgiveness, but you knew it was the right thing to do. Chloe, in turn, expressed her remorse and determination to heal.

As the evening sun cast long shadows in Chloe's room, you finally stood up. "I have to go, Chloe. But I want you to know that I'm letting go of the past. I hope you can find healing and peace."

Chloe nodded, tears of gratitude in her eyes. "Thank you. I'll never forget this."

You walked out of Chloe's room, your heart lighter than it had been in months. Leon stood in the hallway, waiting for you.

"Are you okay?" he asked, wrapping his arms around you.

You nodded, a small smile on your lips. "I think I will be, Leon. I finally let go of the pain, and I hope Chloe can find her way back to the person she used to be."

"I'm proud of you" he says kindly, still holding your hand, as you both walk side by side.

After weeks of self isolation, depression and panic attacks, you finally felt you were free from everything that happened.

Forgiving Chloe was the key to letting your mind heal, and you were glad to make that decision. And to close that chapter of your life, you decided to move out with Leon. At first, you were scared to embrace this new journey, but having the man you loved by your side made your fears wash away.

So, it was a fresh start to you.

New college, new possible friends, and, of course, Leon had a new job as a professor — not in the same college as you. Finally, everything seemed in order.

Back at your new apartment, already decorated with thousand of portraits from you and Leon, you were finishing unboxing one of the kitchen stuff, when he suddenly entered the living room with something white in his hands.

"What's that?" You ask him, curious.

"I found this little guy crying outside. I thought maybe you would want some friend" Leon says, giving you a little kitten.

"No shit" you gasped in shock, grabbing the small cat in your hands. "He's so freaking cute"

"I know... and he has this birthmark that looks like yours" Leon says, pointing to a spot that looked exactly like your birthmark.

"Oh, he's so sweet... how should we call him?" You ask Leon, playing with the kitten.

"Maybe you should name him with that Disney movie you love so much.... that one with cats..." Leon suggests, helping you unbox the kitchen stuff.

"The Aristocats?" You ask, giggling as you play with the kitten. "The only white cat in that movie is Marie"

"Yes, but I know a friend that has a white cat and whose name is Ozzy from Ozzy Osbourne" Leon chuckles, grabbing the other box.

"Ok, you got me in there. I'll name him Toulouse then. " You laugh, and then the small kitten now named Toulouse bites your finger. "I think he likes his new name"

"I think so too" Leon laughs, and then he sits next to you on the floor. "I was thinking... maybe we can try that bed..."

You blushed hard with his suggestion but didn't say no. Knowing you perfectly well, Leon smiled before lifting you up on his arms, leading you to your new bedroom. He gently put you on the center of the bed, already removing your clothes.

"What a way to start again, huh?" He whispers, his tongue trailing your skin, making you hold your breath. "I couldn't be happier"

"I couldn't be happier too" You moan when you feel his fingers slightly circling your clit above your panties.

He smiled, and then his tongue met your nipples, sucking them gently. His other hand still circling your clit, making you whimper and moan with his touch. Your body clearly belonged to him, and he loved to see your reaction to his touch.

"I'm not gonna make you suffer tonight, baby girl. I promise I'll be gentle" he says, getting on top of you, his cock already sliding inside your walls. "Oh, fuck"

Leon gently held your hands above your head, facing you. His blue eyes shining and his lips show a perfect smile while he's slowly moving in and out. Your legs are tangled on his waist, and your body seems to be following his pace.

He then sat on the bed, gently placing you in his lap, your naked bodies together as one. He moves away your hair from your face, admiring your eyes and lips, your entire beauty. You can feel him inside you again. Your hips started to move so passionately, while his hands hold you tight.

You felt him moving faster and the sounds of your moans and his, the whimpers and praises that he always made you hear. It was enough to drive you insane. His scent, the way he was leading you.

That man loved every inch of you, and he wanted you to know that.

"You're so perfect, baby girl" he moans louder this time, unable to control the pleasure you're giving him. "Shit..."

And he keeps moaning, almost pornographic. He likes to let people know you're his, and he's yours. He's not scared anymore, and he wants you and everyone to understand how much he loves you. Leon suddenly thrust more violently, and it was a sign that he was close.

"God... fuck" he moans again, still thrusting you with more intensity, holding your hips tight to not let you escape.

"Shit, Leon" you moan as well, tears falling down your cheeks as your entire body feels this wave of shock and pleasure.

Until you finally release yourself on him, his body shivering and trembling, sweating falling down his forehead. Leon keeps moving inside you until he moans, and his body collapses, his arms hugging you and his breath heavy and tired. His eyes met yours, and for a brief moment, it was like the first time you saw him. Your heart skipped a beat.

And then, the moment of realization.

He was indeed yours. Nothing would change that. Even after everything you both went through, you still had each other. And it was like you two were meant to be together. You both have, finally, found peace.

You were his Monday, his fresh start. He was your Sunday, and you'd never be apart ever again. Everything was fine.

"I love you" he whispers, looking at you.

#leon kennedy x reader smut #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy imagine #leon s kennedy x you #leon s kennedy smut #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon scott kennedy x reader #leon scott kennedy x you #leon scott kennedy smut #leon scott kennedy #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x y/n #resident evil fanfiction #resident evil leon #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy infinite darkness #infinite darkness leon #leon resident evil #leon x you #leon x reader #leon smut #leon s kennedy x y/n #re4 leon #leon re2 #leon infinite darkness #leon re4

[saint-siren]

A World For Her Alone | Stranger

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13

cw (chapter specific): emotional infidelity, abuse, murder, suicide, misogyny

pairing: claude x fem!reader

summary: in which Claude completely loses his head.

He opened his eyes once more to the dimness of his bedroom. His despair did not break, it lengthened like a long red string from one life to the other. His body was whole, reset again to perfect health and he knew that the ringing of his ears with the sound of an infant wailing was only an illusion. However, that reality only made things harder to bear than if there were medicine to be taken to rid himself of the noise. He laid in bed for a while longer, gazing listlessly at the sliver of sunlight that slipped through his heavy curtains. He gave himself over to the utter despondency of one who simply has no choice but to go on. That darkness was very tempting, he could give his strength over to it, he could fall backwards into it and know it would embrace him like a mother. But Claude was not so used to his helplessness, so somewhere in his mind, he held a small flicker of determination which kept him from falling completely. He had but wax wings to fly with and the sun was indeed approaching but he had some thought that he could reach you before they melted. 

He set eyes on Diana yet again, and yet again with childish glee. He looked deeply into her ruby eyes and saw nothing but the blood which was still wet on the bedsheets you laid cold and lost to the world on. He thought of the violence of it, your marriage. Even still, the muddled euphoria of being in Diana’s presence raged on, desperately trying to smother everything else. The memory of you remained a cold corner in his mind, a cell to lock his inner self inside as if it would help anything. As if that was the person who needed to be contained, needed to be reminded. But he was just so disgusted with himself, from his past life and watching his current one from outside a body that no longer seemed to be his own that he needed a place to take everything. He needed someone to punish…and he had no one who would obey but himself. He had no one to blame but himself regardless of the fact that he no longer even knew who that was. A ghost perhaps, unable to rest and unable to move forward, to be better. He would always be that man who died under the sword of your knight, always the last to realize. Always too late to save you.

In the corner of his eye, casting a shadow over Diana’s eyes, he saw you stumble to the table. You were a sight that shocked his body into moving as he would if only he controlled it. He had never seen you this way, you stumbled clumsily like you were drunk but your face was harrowed and tense. Words of concern left his mouth but he knew, he knew what the truth was. For once, he knew without doubt what had been done as it unfolded. He looked into your eyes and knew. 

Had you come back the same as he had?

“Where are they?” You muttered. His heart dropped. Your eyes were unfocused, forever staring at a point past both he and Diana, at an unreachable figment. He saw your chest rise and fall rapidly with your breaths. He saw your body tremble. 

“Sister?” Diana called, her eyes clouding with genuine confusion and unease. Her lovely face went slack with surprise as she watched her sister mumble like a madwoman.

“Where is my child?” Words that bit a hole through his chest. He had desperately hoped that what he believed couldn't possibly be but just those words alone had consumed him completely. You confirmed the nature of this reality, the true extent of his sins. The you who had given birth to his copy, who had died knowing her husband was at the side of another woman, who had died believing he doubted her fidelity, was the same you who stood before him now.

He remembered the eyes of your daughter, those teary eyes without malice that he thought would damn him. He was wrong to think the girl was his complete copy, no, right now he felt her eyes and yours were the same. Crying for something lost, a hazy, clouded little memory. A warmth that dissipated into nothing, a weight that held them to the earth.

But the resemblance was fleeting for your eyes quickly filled with anger. You seized Diana by the shoulders and you looked into her eyes unflinchingly, although Claude’s body rose on instinct, the him within only wondered if you saw in those rosy eyes the very same thing  he did.

“It wasn’t enough for you to have him, you wanted the only thing—” He didn’t let you finish, he was grabbing you and pulling you away from Diana like an animal. He felt his hand take your arm into a forbidding grasp. He could not stop, it was useless but if it were inevitable he wished to retreat inside. At very least he did not want to watch himself hurt you, not as he carried the knowledge that you had every right to go mad. Every right in the world to rage against him, rage against Diana even if in her eyes was an utter guileless that he could not deny.

“You don’t have a child yet. No one has taken anything from you.” Uselessly cruel words from a thoroughly and uselessly cruel man. They were more than lies, they were violence. He knew he was robbing you of any right to mourn the loss of a child who never had the chance to even have a name of her own. Forcing you to pretend, he was dragging you from your child just the same as death had. He was twice as forbidding as the universe, far more cruel, far more violent because unlike the universe, he knew your pain inside and out. And he watched himself wound you again.

You wilted, went limp in his grasp, your eyes went blank and confused. Your eyes were big and teary like your daughter’s were. “Please help me….I….” You muttered. He knew you were seeing her in him as you pulled away from his hold and he thinks, just for a moment, he might have been the one to soften his grip. To open his hands. It had felt like a long time since he could control his body in any meaningful way, he could no longer be certain. You were swaying on your feet, teetering away from him. He was still arrogant enough to want to comfort you, even knowing he was the source of your pain. His limbs almost trembled to hold you. To tell you that he had known your daughter too.

Instead, your knight stepped forward and gently caught you before you fell. He felt such a relief to see you caught even if his own body would not move at will. And then he felt…a sickness he could not place. “I’m afraid my lady isn’t feeling well, I’ll see her to her room” He said, without looking at Claude. He spoke informally, inconsiderately. Before he could respond, Felix was already walking away with you. A hollow hearted feeling came over him as he watched your body lean against his as if he was the only thing keeping you tethered to earth. He ought to have been relieved and the darkness that grew on him mostly felt annoyed at your outburst but it wasn’t the only thing there…his heart was sinking too. The one that was his own.

This life, despite the revelation he’d been shown, was much the same except that he was far more brazen than he’d ever been before. He came over to your parent’s manor without even hiding the fact that he only intended to see Diana. You stayed wherever you were, he wasn’t even sure you knew he was there. Your mother led him up to Diana’s room without question, not once did she utter your name. Nor did he. 

Again he was shut into a shared world with Diana. Her love was like climbing ivy, it smothered and it grew until he could not see anything more. But a part of him loved the feeling so desperately, he hoped he’d never breathe again without feeling the leaves brush against his insides. He hoped her love would grow part of him, he hoped that her love would continue to be so evasive that he would feel her vines cage his lungs. The longing for her to be a fundamental part of his life was strong, so strong that he pretended it was already so. When he strode up to your parents’ doorstep, he pretended he was supposed to be there for Diana, that she was his fiancée.  He did not even have to ask her to indulge this charade, she was more than happy to live in one of the romance novels that lined her bookshelf.

It did not escape his notice that you had been imprisoned in your own home. He looked toward your window each time he came over and the bars installed there remained. You did not even leave your room, he knew not whether you’d been forbidden or whether you simply did not want to see his face. The latter was the better, he thought, if you hated him then there was something to be saved. You not been entirely broken if you still had capacity to hate him for what he did. It would mean you understood his fault, it was all his fault. He would tell you as much if he was free to speak. He would say, “Give it to me, give me what pain you carry and leave it there.”

In this life, he saw you scarcely, desired you frequently. He was pulled this way and that by the high of Diana’s love and the time slowly disappeared. There was dread in the days approaching your wedding and he lived in a daze, always in a daze. This devouring thing inside made him feel bleak, numbed all his concern to nothing but the pathetic mourning for Diana. The wedding date slowly approaching was like a noose around his neck slowly tightening and he knew exactly when the platform would drop from beneath him but it did not give him peace. He could not enjoy his final moments. In other words, he was burdened on both sides.

The day your parents arrived hastily, hands clasped and eyes on the floor, informed him that you’d run away, the first thing he felt was relief. It hit him like the first burst of cold air from outdoors, it stunned him that his own consciousness was forefront for once. But before he had the time to wonder, there was more to be said.

Your mother, her eyes on the floor, had more to confess. She looked like a scolded little girl and frankly, he wanted to laugh at her until she opened her mouth. “It seems she has run away with her personal knight.” She was near choking on the words as if they made her sick.

A strange feeling came over him. A unbearable burn searing through his chest at the thought of you with Felix, alone and out of reach. But his lips curved into the barest hint of a smile, a bitter and hateful smile. “Our knights will take over the search for them.” The anger of his greater self, took him over with ease. It buried and twisted into him. It grew to a flame that cast his own consciousness into shadow. You betrayed him, you ran away with another man after promising to spend your life with another. He grabbed onto the fragments of thoughts his empowered self was too angry to finish. “How could she…” “A whore, nothing but a whore…” “If I ever see her again–”

Wherever you went, he hoped it was too far for his men to reach. He hoped you’d never be close enough for him to reach again. The darkness churned up thoughts to quell itself. Thoughts of the violence he felt owed.

In the days without you, he stewed in his own thoughts. The silver lining was being given reprieve from Diana, at least most of the time. She still sent her letters and he still answered them and enjoyed the brief moment of peace they bought him. The first letter, a hateful thing of pretty lace and ribbons, he wanted to throw out without reading but his hands worked against his own interests and he was treated to Diana’s apology. She apologized for her sister running away and disgracing him. ‘Disgrace?’ he remembered thinking. ‘Am I the one who has been disgraced?’ His fingers traced the lace decorating the letter, as he remembered what he’d accused his wife of in their very earliest life and the life directly after. Death by prison filth and deprivation, death by birthing the child of a man who left her alone. A disgrace? What did he know about being disgraced? All he knew was the very opposite.

All of these were whispers, of course. His greater self was soothed by Diana’s words, words he felt negated his responsibility. For what had he done other than be an exemplary fiancé? What did you have to be displeased with? What was he lacking that any other nobleman had? What was so bad you would run away with another man and have him made into gossip fodder? Her words fortified him, they justified his anger not as an ugly thing eating away at him but as righteous outrage. Diana was comforting him as no one had, not even your sniveling suck-up parents. She understood the value of a promise better than anyone. He held the letter up to his lips with shaking hands and he pressed a kiss to the place where her hands must have been when she pressed the ribbon into place. 

The waiting for you to be found was the hardest thing for him. Perhaps if you were not found in a decent amount of time, it would be more prudent both fiscally and emotionally, to wed Diana who was also a daughter of your house. Oh, how he reveled in that thought. His mind conjured such pretty, bloodless thoughts of marriage to Diana. It almost combatted the thoughts he had about seeing you again, the words he’d bring forth to shame you in a place where you could not do anything but accept your own fault. Your indecency, your infidelity, your selfishness. The irony of his anger and his eagerness burned no one but himself, who lay paralyzed in his own mind as he settled into the fact that if you were found, he might truly have to watch himself beat you. For something he was far more guilty of, no less. He couldn’t so much as grit his teeth to express the anguish, all he could do is call upon god, the well in the sky he poured desperate wishes into.

‘Dear god, you seek to punish me, I know. But do not punish my bride, let me go hollow from missing her, from wanting to retrieve some of the person I used to be but do not hurt her to show me your wisdom. Tear me apart as you will but do not use her to do it. Let her stay lost to me.’

The sky really must have been empty, there really must have been no god to hear him, for you were found on a rainy night and brought to his mansion. Felix was dead, slain as a matter of course. A sick delight came about as he heard the report that your new lover had been killed where he stood. He heard himself speak in a low voice that suppressed none of his malice. “Let me see her, then.” 

But his mother stopped him, assessing at him with serious eyes, sizing him up. “No. You’re too angry. You might do something to damage her.” She was right and the inner self rejoiced for the prolonged distance, for the fact that although his mother clearly considered you more product than woman, she would not have him harm you. 

He kept you like a prisoner, sequestered to some bedroom at the center of the manor, locked from the outside and served by maids who watched you carefully as their jobs would not be spared if you were to pull the same trick again on their watch. The greater part of himself did long to look into your eyes, to feel the rage inside bloom and overflow and finally, finally allow him to release it. He nursed this hate like the phantom child he had left behind.

He allowed for one visitor, the young lady betrothed to Felix, who beseeched him. He wanted you to feel as he did. This woman who’d been forced to only partly display her mourning through plain black clothing rather than the true mourning garb of one whose loss was as great as hers, was a perfect tool for it. It was to show you who your actions hurt besides him. The extent of your selfishness brought consequences for more than just him, he wanted you to know that. He could tell you himself but showing you was all the better. If you hated him so much you’d run away short of your wedding, his emotions likely meant nothing to you. So let you have the hatred of someone else you hurt, let you see what you’ve done through the tears of a woman you’ve hurt just as badly.

The day of your wedding was a humiliation, for both of you. A farce that became the den of gossips gawking at your stiff steps down the aisle. He was relieved to know that you were the target of insult but displeased to be pitied. Still, such was worth it, if only to show a woman who seemed to think she was above having loyalty to her betrothed that you were not even above being gawked at on your wedding day like a caged animal. If he had to put up with being humiliated the inevitable moment everyone found out you fled with another man, you would put up with this. He would have his pound of flesh before you were married, before he’d have to forgive you.

Still, though he wanted your pain, he was caught between that motive and the fact that it still severely angered him that you thought you had the right to pity yourself. When he saw tears in your eyes as you reached the altar, he snapped at you in a whisper. Why were you of all people crying? If anything, it should have been him. You did this, what right had you to cry about it now? In the time you were far from home, living with that knight, what had you done together? Living in the squalor among commoners, had you found some pleasure in that? He had no choice now except to marry a woman who ran about with another man short of their wedding.

Claude rejected the notion of your culpability, but that didn’t matter when the loudest voice within his mind did not belong to him. He knew he had no right to be jealous and bitter as he was, he knew it was ludicrous for him to act like you were the one to betray him as if he wasn’t always alone with your sister, coming to visit her while neglecting you. Never mind the fact that he knew what you had lost, what he had stolen from you. But what did knowing that do? All that mattered to this darkness above him was that you existed and therefore had sinned. The more he pondered this thing which plagued him, the more hopeless he understood his situation to be. This thing, this darkness, its separation from his true self only mattered to him at this point. All you could see was a cruel husband, a man who hated you, who would leave you to die alone. Did it matter if there was more to him, if all he could show you was the most hateful part of him? It might not have been his true self that tormented you for so long but…they shared one body and it was still his hands that dripped with your blood.

When he woke one morning and his consciousness had swam up to the surface of his mind, allowing him to control his own body for the first time in ages, he knew that something was wrong. He felt it in the pit of his stomach, in the quiet of his room with the faded rays of sun reaching through the curtains after a stormy night. The moment he realized he was free, he went to your room still wearing his pajamas, his hair disheveled. Each step was his own doing and yet it still felt as though the path was fated, there was nothing to be done except go to you. See what this life had made of you, pray to a god who wasn’t listening. When he opened the door, what he saw struck him so hard his vision went white.

You were hanging from the center of the room, your body was still and cold. He knew it was too late to save you but stupidly he fumbled with the sheets around your neck, trying to get your body down. Murmuring little words of comfort to ears that could not hear him. If only he could just get you down, he could save you. This time, this time, he had to save you. How foolish he was. How could he not see that such was not the way things worked for him?

Your body was not even warm when he set you down on the floor, when he put his head on your chest, he heard no heartbeat not even a weak and staggered one. Your eyes were open, unblinking and looking constantly at a point in the distance away from him. You had been dead for some time, for your body had not even been swaying from where you hung. He couldn’t feel you anymore. But he could not let go of you either, he stayed with your body until the steward was firmly pulling him away. “My lord…please leave her to us.” His head had been lain again your chest, his tears wetting your chemise for how long? He did not know. 

Even after your body was taken, he remained kneeling on the floor where he had held you. 

He was not even coherent enough to kill himself but for the state he was in, the doctor recommended he take sedatives. They made the days pass like minutes and often he was in the dark with his misery, not able to speak it, show it. Not allowed the reprieve or the punishment of a knife against his throat. He was in the dark with your body hanging in front of him. He was in the dark every day until the morning he was woken up for your funeral. That day he awoke by a caress, a warm hand against his cheek and for a confused, bleary moment, he thought it was your hand. His heavy eyelids opened and caught a glimpse of golden hair. 

He was besotted again. Diana was beautiful even in mourning garb, dressed in delicate black lace, inches away from him with tears in her eyes. “Lord Claude” Her voice wavered. “I’m sorry, but it’s time for you to wake up. The funeral is soon, I’ve already let you sleep as much as you can.” He couldn’t help the enormous love that came over him as he saw her trying to be strong before him. He stretched his stiff limbs around her and held her to his chest. She did not refuse his comfort, she fell apart in his arms and cried. Her face was nuzzled into his neck as he ran his hand up and down her back. Yet again, something had bloomed from the void inside. The honey of her love had sweetened everything and it was reaching inside him to claim control once more. What defense had he against her, his consolation and mercy?

The funeral service was carried out at the marquisate. A lady should be buried in her husband’s family plot after being married, after all. A marchioness is a marchioness, not even the part of him that despised you could deny as much. He’d relinquished himself to that greater instinct again, he was sure it had happened while he was in Diana’s arms. The moment his control was undone indefinitely was when remembered his love for her.

Diana cried throughout the funeral and held to his arm, looking at the coffin which cradled her sister who looked fitful as if she were having a bad dream even in death. She trembled to see her sister, young and newly married, dead. Perhaps she saw herself in the coffin next and the thought of that made Claude hold her closer. No one commented on him embracing his sister-in-law so intimately at his wife’s funeral, least of all your parents who looked more burdened than bereaved. They apologized to him for the inconvenience caused by the whole ordeal from your wedding to your death and offered to take over the planning of the funeral at some point. They apologized to him for your death. Instead of mourning you, their firstborn daughter. You, your mother’s only daughter, a loss that should have shaken her to her very core was being treated as a matter of political burden. You were no more to her than a fallen knight, a matter of replacement or compensation. A financial headache, perhaps a political one but never a mother’s heartache or confusion for a daughter who took her own life. 

What did he feel? Was it a husband’s grief? No…no, it was impossible for him to only feel a husband’s grief now. He was not just your husband, he was your killer, your jailor, your tormentor. The constant catalyst of your demise. He had not just lost a wife, he had killed one. There was never a time where he had been a husband to you, it was fitting that his grief was not that of a loving, dutiful husband.

Diana insisted upon not leaving him alone so your parents left her in his care. They didn’t flinch when she asked them and she didn’t think anything of spending so much time alone with her dead sister’s husband even though she had flirted with him so heavily while she was alive. Should she not be ashamed to ask this of him? Or did she think it was alright since she believed what everyone else did, that you didn’t love him, that you ran away to elope with your lover and killed yourself because he had been slain in the end? Nevertheless, he welcomed her.

Diana spent an entire week with him, days that comforted his hateful heart more than anything ever had. Perhaps it shouldn’t have, for she was mourning you as he was supposed to be. But it was as if they were playing pretend again, except this time they had the entire marquisate at their disposal instead of just Diana’s bedroom. When he wanted to see her, she was in the library or out in the garden or taking lunch in the guest room. Always in reach, it made him feel better. She was safe, she was healthy this time around and she was his. More than she ever had been before. Perhaps the suddenness of your death made her all the more open, made the need for comfort greater. Either way, the sweetness of her love was falling over him as warmly as summer rain.

But after that week, Diana did need to return home. For the sweet girl did not want her parents to miss her for too long. Claude insisted on accompanying her home in the carriage, under the guise of her safety but in all reality, just to spend even a few more moments with her. 

They were halfway there when the carriage started moving faster than it should have. The horses were whinnying in fright desperately racing forth, Diana’s slight frame nearly flew across the carriage before he caught her and held her. They were run off the dirt road and into the forest. Claude couldn’t understand what was happening, he only caught the glimpse of dark figures out the window before the carriage flipped over. 

He used his body to keep Diana from getting hurt the instant he felt the carriage tip. His head hit the door of the carriage hard but he seemed to be alright, there was only a little blood. “Diana?” He hadn’t the time or the wits about him to form the sentence he wished to speak, he could only call her name, frantic and panicked. “I’m alright!” Diana answered, looking up at him, still in his arms. She was trembling and fear clouded her eyes. He could hear commotion outside, fighting, the clang of swords. His heart sank at the staggered realization that they were being attacked but he was quick to action regardless of how badly his head pained him and how he couldn’t find his balance. 

Still, by the time he’d helped Diana out of the carriage, his two knights were laying on ground before several men, cloaked in black with their swords wet with blood. He pushed her behind him and gripped his own sword to hold out before him. It was at least four swords against one, there was no way for him to live but he still needed to save Diana. It didn’t matter that it wasn’t logical, that he knew in his rational mind that he had no chance, he had to wield his sword against them. They were quickly done in, Diana seized and his sword arm badly injured. Strangely, they did not seem to have any intentions of killing him which gave him hope that it was a ransom situation. Until the man who had Diana, who seized her as she tried to flee to her best bet of survival — the thick forests around them, slit her throat unceremoniously and let her body drop to the ground into the dirt. 

Claude let out a sound of unbridled anguish that startled birds from the trees. He fought against their hold wildly, turned half feral and dripping blood on them. The man who stayed back, took down the hood of his cloak revealing black hair, he seemed to be their ringleader. “Now that we have that out of the way, let me.” He stepped forward and drew his sword. Claude was still fighting, still writhing in the grips of his assailants, uttering curses at them. The stranger pulled Claude’s hair to lift his head and make him look up into his eyes. He wore a soft smile, dissonant from the situation. “Lord Claude, I hope you’d agree you’re entirely too important to be dealt with by just anybody.” 

The stranger, his eyes glittering with joy, stood back and brought his sword down over Claude's head.

author's note: Oh, Claude. Didn't anyone ever tell you the forest is full of wicked things?

Next

tags: @kage-tobiuo@kreishin @rosephantomhive@yeahdrarry@splaterparty0-0 @dear-dairiesss @qluvrv @hafsuhhh @eissaaaa @ayolk @doan-19 @fourcefulcupid@ariachaos@cerisearan@irisspade@yaesflorist@jcrml@xiaosprettygf@yevenly@amaris08atoshi012022 @obsessed-with-a-fictional-man @softbummiee@cassanderasblog @waka-babe @bananatwirl @s1mp69 @mitsuyamistress @hottiewifeyyyy @reiko69 @syyyy4ever @pinkpastel-l @dododododooosworld @gwyneveire

#claude x reader #wmmap x reader #claude de alger x reader #claude de alger obelia x reader #wmmap fanfic #x reader

[nexility-sims]

𝐍𝐎. 𝟖   ❛ 𝐝𝐨𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 ❜   |   THE DEN, MID MARCH 1991

❧  𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲  /  𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠  /  𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬  /  𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭.

   ❛  Leonor had attended a recital just the day before, but this performance was an entirely different experience. She was unprepared for how arresting it would be. Without knowing, she had noticed the lead singer earlier that night, ostensibly holding court by the far edge of the bar, distracting the bartender with animated conversation. Leonor hadn’t heard anything she said, but her movements were full of energy, almost frenetic. Now, she held still. The bassist swayed from hip to hip. Behind them, the drummer stared out at the audience with a face full of shadows. Leonor thought the frontwoman resembled a pious statue as she stood there, chin tilted upward and eyes closed. The crowd hummed with impatient anticipation, but what she reflected back to them was unfazed tranquility. 𝐮𝐧𝐚𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐠𝐞 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧

❧ (the song here, as you perhaps could have guessed from the episode title, is meant to be "doll parts" by hole.) lightly phoned this one in BUT i'd rather keep moving than skip a week bc i was sick, so :^) this is an abridged version, and i'll post an unabridged version later today w/ a label for good measure !!! additionally, we are now done with the entirely self-indulgent red light filter, i promise sdfsdf

𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐞𝐝 & 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭 ↓

The very first chord sent a chill up Leonor’s spine. She watched, rapt, as the statue came to life in a fluid series of motions. Her voice was low and rough, not ethereal by any means but still somehow, to Leonor’s ears, exquisite. The lyrics washed over her unheard. She fixated wholly on the singing itself—on the emotion of it, how the crooning turned to a harsh quaver, within it a lament that felt more defiant than mournful. It was raw. The song’s inspiration, why this woman performed it as she did, was a mystery. It was the vulnerability of it that resonated. Leonor felt the emotion in her bones as she listened. Music was never her preferred outlet but, as she experienced the song, she wished it had been.

For these three minutes, Leonor was alone again. The stage’s pit had been packed with an eager, noisy audience that responded enthusiastically to every line of the song. As it became a concert for one, they faded. Leonor’s eyes followed the movement of the singer, how her lips parted and her fingers strummed the guitar she played. They existed together in a suspended moment outside of time. It might have occurred to her later that extending, even possessing, such a moment was well within her power. For enough money, she could have anyone’s private time—especially artists, people who needed and understood patronage. It wasn't it in the spirit of the venue, but neither was her very presence, arguably. However, she was entirely in the moment as it unfolded. Feelings welled up inside of her. Her skin prickled. Her eyes, too, felt the familiar sensation attendant to being overwhelmed. 

Still, even euphoria had a blush of grief these days.

The song ended, and the bar's spirited ambience rushed back in like a sun-blocking wave. As she began speaking casually to the audience, the singer’s captivating voice changed. Whatever spell she had cast broke. Her friends remained enlivened, but Leonor felt only the desperate need to reclaim the quietude again. The minute of transition between unfamiliar songs felt like too long—too risky—of a wait. Perhaps the night had caught up with her. Or, perhaps, if she ducked into a quiet corner and collected herself, she could resume the admirable attempt at normalcy that had characterized the evening so far. That was her preferred outcome. She knew, on one level, that she was having fun. This momentary lapse wasn’t really an aberration, she feared, but she was determined to treat it as such. 

Leonor turned to Kore instinctively, leaning close to exclaim the most convenient and innocuous escape valve within reach, “Where’s the restroom?”

TRANSCRIPT:

RENZO | Okay, settle down. Next up is a treat. The Fluke girls have a new song for us. This is a songwriter’s song, alright? Conceived in this building. Show some respect.

LEONOR | Where’s the restroom? KORE | Stairs, near the bar!

[Leonor sighs, door opening]

LEONOR | What are you doing here?

LEONOR | Oh—[Laughs]—sorry. RENZO | It’s a bathroom. Maybe I gotta piss.

RENZO | Hey, don’t leave. I’m kidding. Wanted to check on you. LEONOR | Really?

RENZO | Sort of. I also had an ulterior motive. LEONOR | Did you?

RENZO | I wanted to be alone with you again, too. LEONOR | You’re in luck.

RENZO | You know, you do look different in person. More real. LEONOR | I get that a lot. RENZO | Do you? Huh— LEONOR | [Snickers] No, of course not!

RENZO | So, what do you think— LEONOR | No more talking now, okay?

RENZO | I’ll show you the dressing rooms next time. LEONOR | Next time? [Chuckles]

#;long post #ts4 story #sims story #sims 4 story #royal sims #simblr #ts4 legacy #1992.story.post #1992.a1 #1992.e03

[transgenderteensurvivalguide]

I came out as transfem to my friends a couple months ago, but every now and then I feel like I'm faking it. But when I'm called by my preferred name, my heart starts racing and I get a little smile.

Is this a normal thing?

Lee says:

Experiencing feelings of doubt or questioning like you're "faking it" can be part of the process for many people as they explore their gender identity.

This doesn't invalidate your experiences or your identity; sometimes it's a reflection of navigating a complex personal journey within a society that has rigid norms about gender.

Having doubts is normal, and many people who come out as trans continue to identify as trans throughout their lives, even if they initially had some discomfort getting used to their new identity and occasionally felt like they were faking it.

There are also some folks who feel like they're faking it and while they may not be intentionally faking an identity, that kernel of discomfort and wrongness may be a clue that something isn't quite right yet, whether it's their particular label, their gender expression, their pronouns, or their feelings about the gender roles they feel pressure to inhabit. I'm not saying that this is the case for you-- it seems like it likely isn't-- but I do feel that it's also important to acknowledge that not everyone who questions their gender will ultimately identify as transgender.

There should be no shame in questioning your gender, trying on new labels for a while, even coming out to friends to see how it feels to use the new label/pronouns/name, etc but ultimately reidentifying. The process of exploring one's gender identity is deeply personal and unique to each individual and there's nothing wrong with someone realizing that they aren't trans after all.

I'm writing all of that because I think this type of ask is often sent by folks wanting to know whether what they're feeling is normal because they're seeking reassurance that they're trans.

But we're not really here to reassure you that you're trans. We don't know you! Only you know your gender. If I tried to reassure you by saying "oh yeah I know for sure that you're trans, don't worry!" it would be beyond my scope as someone who is not-you.

I can tell you that it's normal to feel that way, that many other trans folks have felt that way, and that you will find your path eventually. It can be hard to figure it all out, but don't stress! Everyone always seems to have this super big sense of internal urgency, but it's okay to not be 100% certain of your gender identity, and to feel that way for months or even years.

Be patient with yourself. Understanding your gender identity is a journey, and it's okay to take your time. There's no rush to figure everything out immediately or to fit into any particular box. Trust yourself, and allow your journey to unfold in a way that feels authentic to you. All that being said, your current identity is valid, regardless of whether it shifts over time.

It's super common to have feelings of doubt and wrongness and feelings of faking it at the start of a transition, and that doesn't necessarily have to overshadow the joy and happiness that you experience when you're called by your preferred name. That gender euphoria you described is super real!

Seeking support can be incredibly helpful. This might include talking to friends who understand and support your journey, joining support groups for people exploring their gender identity, or finding a therapist who specializes in gender identity issues. These resources can provide a space to discuss your feelings, explore your identity, and receive support from others who have had similar experiences. Your feelings and experiences are real, and they deserve acknowledgment and respect.

Anons say:

(See follow-up post here!)

#Lee says #trans #questioning #faking it #identity

[celebtf]

Jacob and the Shirt

One afternoon, post my ice cream shop shift, I found myself surfing the web on my computer. Given my college budget, I ended up on a pirating site for movies, trying to catch some entertainment

I came across a link to a site called " ClothesFromMovies " and I thought to myself " Why not take a look" so I clicked on the link and the website came up, the site was filled with clothes that actors had been wearing on sets but was going to throw out.

I Scored this white tee straight from the set of Euphoria, worn by Jacob Elordi himself. Couldn't pass up the chance to own a piece of him.

The shirt was only $3 so I thought why not, it's only 3 dollars, not much could happend. I ordered the shirt and later got a notification the shirt was on it's way here.

Three days later, the package arrived at my door. Excitement building, I eagerly opened it to reveal a seemingly ordinary white T-shirt. However, as I unfolded it, a wave of Jacob's captivating cologne filled the air—fresh and musky, an embodiment of his essence. I took my own shirt of very fast, I slipped into the worn fabric of Jacob's old tee, enveloped in the scent that hinted at the extraordinary transformation awaiting me.

The sent drove my senses wild, and I could feel a wave of excitement. Quickly heading to my bed, I took my pants of fast, I couldn't help myself.

As I was jerking and smelling the shirt, electric shock of memories flooded in, intertwining his world with Jacob, a shock that didn't sting. Eyes closed, my grip tightened. I could see my hands transforming into bigger ones . My hair added a bit more length, casually covering my eyes like I stepped right out of a trendy Instagram post." " OH yes, this dick feels so good" I moaned now with a thick Australian accent

a flood of Jacob's memories surged into my mind, each one painting a vivid portrait of a life I never lived."

Walking past the bathroom mirror, I caught a glimpse of the transformations – and there I was, I was Jacob Elordi."

#body swap #malebody swap #jacob elordi #celebrity tf #celebtf #transformation #body switch #gay #male body suit #change

[doumadono]

I decided to share my thoughts this Sinful Sunday - I'm imagining Kirishima and Bakugo as roommates who express interest in a fwb arrangement with you, and after sharing a few drinks with them, you all engage in a threesome (seeeexy timmezzz)🔥🔥🔥

A/N: I can definitely see the appeal of that scenario! Kirishima and Bakugo as roommates, along with the potential for a FWB arrangement, could lead to some interesting dynamics and a lot of steamy moments 😏 I've altered the plot to include a bit more drama ^^

SINFUL SUNDAY

A tapping was heard on Bakugo's door at your shared flat as the man hurriedly turned the knob. The door swung open in an instant as you fell into his arms, Y/E/C eyes staring into his as you sobbed.

Eijiro sat in the background, his eyes darting between his double pepperoni pizza and his friends embracing each other. He was struck with something confusing. The red-haired man let his feet guide him to you and Bakugo. "Hi. What's wrong, Y/N?" he asked, unsure of what else he could say. The situation seemed fragile.

You breathed in, wanting to confess what had happened, but you couldn't stand to. It was far too painful. You murmured, "Found out he was cheating on me, so I left."

Katsuki and Eijiro immediately understood.

Katsuki mentally grinned, acting like he was horribly hurt. "Take your shoes off, dumbass. You didn't need him anyway. We're here now, so he can just go and rot in hell," Bakugo mouthed, causing you to giggle. Bakugo gently patted your back and offered, "Come on, Y/N, let's get you into the living room. You can sit down and relax."

Eijiro nodded and headed to the kitchen. He called out, "I'll get you a glass of water, Y/N. Just a moment."

As you followed Bakugo to the living room, he continued to comfort you, "Don't worry, we've got your back. You're safe here."

Tears streamed down your cheeks as you sat on the couch, devastated by the revelation of your boyfriend's infidelity. It felt like your world was crumbling around you.

Katsuki, who was known for his blunt honesty, didn't mince words. He sat down beside you and said, "Honestly, Y/N, you're better off without that scumbag. Cheating is a coward's way out, and you deserve way better than that piece of trash."

His straightforwardness was surprisingly comforting, and you managed a weak smile through your tears. "Thanks, Kats."

He put a hand on your shoulder, his tone softening just a bit. "I get it. But trust you've got friends who've got your back, myself included. Shitty hair does care about ya too, dumbass."

Eijiro returned with a glass of water, concern etched on his face as he handed it to you. "Here, Y/N. Drink up, it'll help."

You took the glass and sipped the water, grateful for the support of your friends in this difficult moment.

Eijiro sat down on the other side of you, offering a comforting smile. "We're here for you, Y/N," he said, echoing Katsuki's sentiment. "And don't forget, you've got a whole support system in us. We'll help you through this."

A smug smirk crept onto Katsuki's lips as a mischievous idea formed in his mind, a way to help you ease your nerves. He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a low, conspiratorial tone. "You know what, Y/N," he began, "I think it's time for a little revenge. We can show that jerk what he's missing out on."

Your tearful eyes widened as you looked at him, curiosity mixing with surprise. "What do you have in mind, Katsuki?"

Euphoria. Before long, that was the sole word to encompass the sensations coursing through you as you were methodically disassembled by the two men you were currently suspended between. Both in the literal and metaphorical sense.

You found yourself in a whirlwind of desire, not entirely sure how it had all unfolded, but now your legs were entwined around Katsuki's neck, while your arms encircled Eijiro's. A contented sigh escaped your lips as Eijiro's hands tantalizingly tugged at your nipples, causing you to arch your back against him, seeking the touch of his lips. Your mouths collided in a passionate kiss, deep and consuming, as two sets of hands roved over your heated skin, sending shivers down your spine. A gasp escaped your lips when Bakugo's tongue suddenly delved into your pussy, pulling your mouth away from Kirishima's and causing your head to fall back against his shoulder. You writhed and panted heavily, overwhelmed by the intense sensations coursing through you. "More," you moaned. "Please!"

Your fingers twisted into Eijiro's fiery red hair, and you brought one hand down to do the same to Bakugo, tugging insistently. Both of them groaned in response, their desire intensifying. Katsuki responded by gripping your hips firmly and shifting them further down to create more room for his skillful ministrations.

Meanwhile, Kirishima found a particularly sensitive spot on your neck with his sharp teeth, causing your breath to catch and your body to arch with pleasure.

Their combined efforts left you in a state of trembling ecstasy, your thighs shaking and your hips twitching uncontrollably as they expertly pushed you right to the edge of overwhelming pleasure. "Fuck, boys!" you cried out.

You couldn't help but whine as Katsuki filled you, pushing his throbbing dick into your slick, tight cunt. The stretch was almost too much to bear, but that tantalizing sensation of being filled completely overwhelmed you in the most pleasurable way.

Eijiro licked his lips, watching his best friend fucking you senseless.

Bakugo's loud moan filled the room as he exclaimed, "Fucking shit, she's so fucking tight."

Soon, Bakugo's cock was joined by Eijiro's two fingers, and the sensations were overwhelming for all three of you. Curses and gasps filled the room as the intensity of the moment continued to escalate.

Each delicate touch to your sensitive pearl elicited screams of pleasure, causing you to clench tightly around them. This heightened your climax even further, drawing all three of you closer together in an electrifying explosion of pleasure.

You could feel how incredibly hard Eijiro became within his pants, his rock hard dick pressing against the small of your back as you rested against his chest while Bakugo continued to fuck you intensely.

You couldn't tell which of them spilled first, or perhaps they spilled at the same time, but soon you felt their cocks pulsing as they reached their climaxes as well.

Bakugo painted your cunt white with his semen, while Kirishima came within his jeans, your name the only thing leaving his parted lips.

“That was magnificent,” you whimpered, feeling a little like a cheap whore.

"Next time, you shall take her cunt, and I will take her ass," Bakugo grinned wryly, looking at Kirishima.

#doumadonos sinful sunday 🔥 #sinful sunday #mha smut #bnha smut #my hero academia smut #anime smut #smutty smut smut #smutty blurb #asked and answered #divider by cafekitsune #bakugou smut #katsuki bakugou #mha bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #bakugou x fem!reader #mha x you #bnha x you #bakugo smut #kiribaku smut #eijiro kirishima smut #kirishima smut #eijiro kirishima x reader #kirishima x reader #kirishima eijirou #kirishima x you #aged up characters

[nhularin]

西村 力 EGOIST

PAIRING just soccer player!niki GENRE blue lock AU, niki as rin itoshi YUPPPPP WARNINGS anxiety and doubt, no x reader! WC 0.23k

the stadium buzzed with anticipation as niki stepped onto the soccer field, his heart heavy with determination. this was his chance to prove himself, to leave his mark on the game he loved, to step out of his brother's shadow. the pressure weighed on his shoulders like a double edged sword, pushing him to excel but also threatening to make him fail

as the game unfolded, nikis skills ignited like lightning, his every move showcasing his passion and talent. he maneuvered through defenders with ease, his feet leading the ball like a marionette. the crowd erupted in cheers, their support fueling his desire to succeed.

but among the euphoria, there were moments that pierced through his confidence like a sharp blade. mistakes crept in, tiny cracks in his performance that stained his otherwise fluid play. each misplaced pass, every missed opportunity, added to the burden he carried, amplifying the whispers of doubt in his mind

the game reached its climax, the scoreline tightly contested. nikis body screamed with exhaustion, his mind a whirlwind of emotions. his legs trembled, threatening to buckle under the immense pressure. but he refused to give up, fighting to the final whistle.

when the game ended, nikis heart sank. the scoreboard displayed a draw, leaving him with a bitter taste of dissatisfaction. abd though he had left his heart and soul on the field, he couldn't escape the haunting thought of what could have been. regret weighed heavily in his chest, overshadowing the moments of brilliance that dotted his performance.

with defeated strides, he trudged off the field, his head bowed with disappointment. but as he glanced back at the green field, the silver of hope shimmered beneath the layers of anxiety. this was just one game, he thought, one chapter in his soccer journey. he had learned from his mistakes and grown in his shortcomings. the road ahead, paved with victories and defeats, would be an opportunity to rise from the ashes, to prove that he was more than the doubts that haunted him

As niki stepped out into the night, the haunting echoes of the game slowly faded into the background. In their place, a flame of determination flickered within him, illuminating his path forward. with renewed resolve, he promised to himself to let go of the moments of the past and embrace the challenges that awaited him, ready to soar higher like a lion and claim his place among the stars of the soccer world. like a real egoist.

PERM TAGLIST @avocarua @misoxhappy

#enhypen headcanons #enhypen fluff #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen x reader #enhypen smau #enhypen #niki x reader #niki headcanons #niki imagines #niki smau #niki enhypen #nishimura niki #niki fluff #niki angst #blue lock angst #blue lock #blue lock headcanons #blue lock imagines #blue lock fluff #blue lock drabbles #enhypen drabbles