#a case of some delicacy | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pinkanonwrites · 5 months

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"Oh! That's What That Does?!"

All art by @archie-sunshine

G1 Rumble/ Mechanic Reader - 2400+ Words NSFW, Valveplug, Plug 'N Play, Mild Sparkplay, Accidental Stimulation, Edging, Human Reader, GN Pronouns

Ahh, the inherent eroticism of repairing your machine.~ I've had this one cooking for a while, so I hope you all enjoy! I've also gotten pretty attached to this mechanic Reader, so they'll likely pop up again with other cassettes (and maybe even some other Decepticons!)

NSFW WRITING AND IMAGERY BELOW THE CUT!

“Ey… EY! Careful wit’ dat! It’s touchy!”

“Rumble,” You groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose. “You're making this way more difficult than it needs to be.”

“I wouldn't be complainin’ if you'd stop touchin’ all up on bits that don't gotta be touched! Rootin’ around in there like I'm one’a your crappy organic machines!”

Removing your hands from Rumble’s open chest, you tossed them roughly into the air. “Y'know what? Fine. Do it yourself. Better yet, get Frenzy to pull the shrapnel out of your chest. That'll go great.”

You would have slid off of Rumble’s lap and stormed off, if not for his massive servos closing around your wrists with an unexpected delicacy. Your efforts to remove your hands only reinforced his grip, using just enough force to keep you from leaving without crushing your wrists entirely.

“H-Hey, no need ta be so hasty! Look, I’m just steamed cause'a the battle, dat’s all. Frenz’ can't do dis, it's gotta be someone more… dainty. Y’know. Little human hands and all dat.” The harsh glow of his visor had dulled slightly as his gaze cast down to your hands. You rolled your eyes, wrists finally slipping from his grip as you settled back in.

Dangling wires and sparking shrapnel dotted his open chest cavity, illuminated by the light of his spark chamber. Rumble had staggered off-balance into your workshop whining about the prodding pieces of broken metal keeping him from transforming properly, yet you’d barely managed to get two wires back in place before he started squirming and whingeing and slinging verbal abuse at you.

Not that you weren't used to it, any interactions with Rumble and Frenzy usually involved some level of bullying. Fortunately, the two cassettes are also incredibly predictable. As soon as you would threaten to take away or withhold what they're asking for, they’d start falling all over themselves with apologies and placations. After all, you may not have been the only mechanic in the area, but you were certainly their favorite.

“Are you going to actually let me work? Or are you going to start yelling at me again?”

“Yellin’? Who's yellin’? Yer the mechanic here, my spark is in your squishy little hands. Do your magic, doc.” He sat back again, servos clutching the edges of your workbench in a show of effort, a genuine attempt to keep them still (or however genuine any show of rule-following from Rumble could be.)

“That's what I thought. Now let me actually fix a few things before you start whining again.” Your gloved hands dipped back into his chest cavity, skirting the edges of his spark chamber to pick away at the bits of loose shrapnel stuck in some of the wires. His frame shuddered, a hiss of steam escaping through his dentae as your knuckles brushed the underside of the spark casing.

“C-Careful,” He said again, with significantly less bite to his tone.

“Does it hurt?”

“Somethin’ like dat.”

“I'll be careful, so let me know if it gets to be too much.” You smoothed a palm down the armor covering his stomach, flinching back when you heard another sharp hiss of steam.

“I’m fine! It's fine! Just… do ya gotta be all on top’a me like dis?”

“I can't reach properly if you're laying down. If you're standing you might keel over on me, and I really don't feel like being squished to death today.” He let out a low grumble as you jacked another cable back into its proper port. “I'll try to be quick, that way you won't have to worry about my ‘human germs’ and you can get outta here. Deal?”

“Yeah, yeah. Just-”

“Be careful. I know.”

And with that you went to work, separating and organizing cables, taping off leaky tubing and removing pieces of scrap metal as gently as you could. Every once in a while Rumble would jerk or twitch beneath your touch, letting out a muffled curse or huff but sparing you from his usual complaints. It was… uncharacteristically quiet, for sure. This was the most extensive repair you'd ever done on him, though, so maybe he was just having surgery jitters.

“Okay, I've gotten most of the shrapnel out. But there's a piece right behind your spark casing.”

“Well? Get it outta there!”

“I'm going to, but I need to get my whole hand in there. I'm warning you now because it's going to be bumping up against your spark casing a lot. I'm going to do my best but you have to tell me if it hurts too much.”

Rumble let out a long, pathetic groan. “Actually doc, maybe you can just leave dat one in there? F-For funsies?”

“Eh?! Rumble, I’m not gonna just ‘leave it in there’! It's gotta come out.”

“Something's gonna come out if you keep proddin’ around in there like dat…”

“What was that?”

“Gh! Nothin’! Don't worry ‘bout it!”

“...Okay. I’m gonna start now. Are you ready?” Rumble only responded with gritted dentae and a tense nod. Working your gloved hand under his spark chamber, you could feel the ambient energy making the hairs on your arm stand on end as you felt for the jagged edge of broken metal. Your glove blocked your view entirely, so you were left blindly groping your way up the metal surface, feeling for anything bent or out of place. When your fingers could no longer reach any further while still avoiding the casing, you slid forward and ducked slightly into Rumble’s open chest, the back of your hand pressing up against the underside of his spark chamber.

CLANG!

You jumped, and if it weren't for Rumble’s arm wrapping around you and almost crushing you into his open chest you may have jostled the sensitive chamber even further. You slid your hand back again, easing off of the reinforced glass, and his grip receded.

“What the hell was that? And what was that clang?”

“I said don't worry ‘bout it!” He hissed, voice glitchy with static. “Everythin’s totally normal, I dunno why you're getting all jumpy ‘bout- MMNGH?!” You moved your hand up again into the same position, and Rumble let out an embarrassingly high whimper. You glanced up at his face, a flush of pink behind the usual grey and beading with coolant… and something clicked.

“Oh my God are you getting off on this?”

“N-No!”

Behind you you heard a sharp snikt, and the sound of pressurizing hydraulics.

“...Maybe?”

“Jesus fucking Christ.”

“H-Hey, don't go gettin’ a big head or nothin’! A bot’s spark chamber is sensitive! Don't go thinkin’ this is cause of your squishy frame or your soft little digits or nothin’!” He seemed to almost shrink in on himself, face plate practically glowing as his shoulders pulled up around his helm. You'd never say it to his face, but he looked surprisingly… small, at this moment. You heaved an exhausted sigh.

“Okay. Okay. I'm going to get this last piece out, alright? It's the last one. And whatever happens while I'm doing that..? It just happens. We won't bring it up again, no need to be embarrassed. Deal?”

“‘Deal?!?’” He squawked, positively scandalized. “How do I know yer not gonna gossip with Frenz’ the next time he's in for a tune-up?”

“Well Frenzy usually never lets me get a word in edgewise, first of all.” You huffed. This was way more than you'd signed up for. “I'm not going to make fun of you, Rumble. Let’s just get you patched up, then you can head home. Okay?”

His mouth was pulled into a tight, wobbly frown as he glanced down at you, choking out a single word. “...Promise?”

“I promise.”

“...Slag. alright, let's get dis over with.” He lolled his head back against the table with a clank, resigning himself to his fate. This time, when your knuckles brushed his spark casing, he couldn’t stifle his soft moan. Your fingers felt further and further up, until almost your entire hand was behind the glass bubble containing his pulsing spark. Finally, you could feel the jagged piece of metal. You wrapped your fingers around it and gave it an experimental tug. It stuck fast, and your hand bumping against Rumble's spark only pulled another surprised moan from him.

“W-Watch it!” He yelped, sounding too fucked-out to come across as actually threatening.

“It's really stuck in there. I'm going to start working it out, so let me know if you need me to stop.”

“Wh… workin’ it out? Whadda ya- ohhh…~”

With your thumb and forefinger gripping the edge of the broken metal, you began to wiggle it gently back and forth to ease it from the plating and wires around it. Each time you moved the back of your hand rubbed up against the far side of his spark chamber, warmth radiating through your glove as Rumble started to vent more harshly.

“Slag… slag! Don't think it's ever been touched back there before. Feels… feels crazy.” He moaned. The metal of your work table shrieked and crumpled like cardboard under his iron grip, desperate to keep his servos off of himself or, Primus forbid, you. The piece stuck firm, and as you braced your other hand against the outside paneling of his chest to readjust your balance he let out a sharp, staticky yelp. “S-STOP!”

You froze immediately. “Are you okay? What's wrong?”

A few shuddering vents were your only response for a moment, Rumble’s visor lights flickering frantically as he tried to steady himself. “Whooo… Almost blew my top for a second there.”

“Seriously?”

“Hey! Yer the one that told me to tell ya if I need ya to stop! I'll be slagged to the Pit before I let some ‘squishy’ run my charge like dat.”

“...Can I start again? I’m making some progress here.”

“...Y-Yeah. Yeah. Yer good.”

You let out another soft sigh, trying to focus on the rhythmic sktch sktch sktch of metal on metal rather than Rumble’s shivering whines. His vocalizer pitched and warbled with static, attempts to stifle his own words slowly giving way to a deluge of fucked-out babbles.

“Ah! Gh! Ohh, mmnh, stupid little hands feelin’ all- nnh!~ Jus’ get it outta there! Please?”

I’m working on it. You’re doing good, just hang in there.” Your placations only resulted in another desperate moan. After what couldn’t have been more than another thirty seconds or so, he blurted out again.

“Ah! Stop!”

You retracted your hand for a moment, letting Rumble gasp for breath above you in a futile attempt to cool his core. You rubbed at his chest paneling as he shivered beneath you hard enough that you thought bolts were going to start coming undone. Even the paneling you were seated upon was burning up, heat seeping through the fabric of your coveralls. His glowing face plate was slick with coolant. Without thinking, you reached up and swept away a bead of it with your thumb, making him jump.

“H-Hey, quit dat…” He groaned, all bite lost from his tone.

“Rumble… The more you keep stopping me the longer this is going to take.”

“You think I don’t know dat?!” One of his arms draped dramatically over his face. “I’m tryin’! But you just keep pokin’ around in there and it’s all touchy and it’s makin’ me feel like my spike’s gonna burst and I can’t take it anymore!” He sniffled. Could Cybertronians even sniffle? You weren’t sure, but he sounded close to tears.

“Rumble… Have you ever actually edged yourself before?”

“Whu- Whuh? How’s dat any of yer business?”

“I’m just thinking…” You ran a placating hand down his shivering plating. “If you haven’t it can be really overwhelming, and-”

“I can handle it! I-I can!”

“Let me finish. It can be really overwhelming, and I don’t want you to hurt yourself further. Just… take a deep breath for me, okay?” You took a slow, steadying breath, and after a second he mimicked it. “Good. Just think about letting go, okay? I’m not going to judge you. Just think about it.”

He let out a low, pitying grumble, peeking at you from behind his arm plating. “...You can start again.”

Once again, your hands dipped into his chest cavity. Only this time you slid both hands up behind his spark casing, gripping as much of the broken metal as you could reach. As you rocked it back and forth Rumble’s moans returned with a fervor, one servo finally flying to cup your lower back.

“Ah! Ah! Slag, oh slag please! Please don’t stop I’m so fraggin’ close.” He fisted the back of your uniform, crumpling the cheap fabric between his digits. “C’mon, c’mon c’mon c’mon I need it!”

“Shh, I’ve got you baby. Just let it happen.”

With a metallic shriek and a gush of brackish oil the shrapnel popped free, the force enough to send you sprawling if not for Rumble’s servo in the small of your back. Of course, said unexpected force also slammed the backs of both your hands right into the underside of his spark chamber, and Rumble’s voice box screeched into a wail of radio static. Something hot and sticky splattered up the back of your coveralls; said something you decidedly were not going to look at until later. His frame rattled and shivered beneath you, steam venting and joints glitching and spark pulsating a near-blinding glow. Finally, after a burst of noise and sparks and twitching, he went slack beneath you, helm clanking against the workbench as his optics flickered.

As delicately as you could, you removed the oil-slick shrapnel and let it clatter onto the floor before shedding your gloves and dabbing at his face plate with the cuff of your sleeve. With the whir of an old monitor blipping back to life, his visor blinked back up to its standard brightness.

“Whuh… Wheh?” He garbled.

“How you feeling, hun?”

“Like I got struck by lightnin’... but in like a nasty way.”

You choked back a snort. “Well, I’ve got all the worst of it over with. Feel free to rest for a while if you need it. I’m gonna go change my jumpsuit.”

He let you slide off his lap without a fight, not even commenting until you’d turned around to make your way over to your office. Only then did he let out a low, salacious whistle when he’d finally caught sight of the back of your uniform.

“Comm me next time yer free, doc. Then I can repay da favor.”

#transformers #valveplug #transformers x reader #rumble #transformers rumble #rumble x reader #transformers imagines #g1 transformers #my writing #long post

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romanoffsbish · 2 months

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Home Training

Wanda Maximoff x F!R

Wanda tries to tell you what to do after a long day of work, so you put her in her place | WC: 1,722

18+ | Minors DNI

Wanda was panting, the way she always did when you had her ready to tip over the edge. This time though there was an underlying tension, and that was because instead of fucking her senseless you simply observed.

The brunette was needy and borderline aggressive with her words when you got home from work, exhausted.

"You left me a mess this morning, so fix it mommy!"

——

Truthfully, she should be thankful you hadn't tossed her across the bed and made her cheeks bright red.

No, instead you told her to use her own fingers and as good as they were, something you knew intimately, it was just never the same for her after finding yours.

Her attraction to you actually stemmed from watching you play a game of table tennis with Natasha, the way you gripped the paddle and curled and uncurled your fingers in brief moments of rest unlocked her desire.

Now the woman loved you more than life itself, but in this moment she likened you to the devil herself with the way you left her to build an orgasm up all alone.

"Mommy please," she cried—on the edge of something miraculous, but then you crushed her hopes. "Stop."

"Wh-what?" Wanda kept going, her slick fingers defiant in their race to send her crashing into bliss.

You tutted, "careful now baby, or I won't be nice."

Wanda whined but did as you said, bringing her fingers to a standstill as you slowly approached the bed, your left hand fell to her knee to push her legs out even wider, her other leg having naturally followed.

"I knew my good girl was in there somewhere," you teased the woman who merely mewled as she felt her walls flutter in desperation around her stilled fingers. "Now take your fingers out for mommy; don't pout."

Wanda, reluctantly, removed her fingers and went to lay them against her tensed stomach but you caught her wrist and seamlessly slipped the delicacy into your mouth as your own fingers replaced hers in an instant.

"Oh."

It was too much for her, to feel you ruthlessly jab into her g-spot after every slow, calculated thrust all while you tenderly licked her own fingers clean; she came.

While your eyes darkened hers widened in fear, it was a rookie mistake to forget to ask you, but it was like you were jonesing for her to make another one. There was a domineering glint in your eyes to confirm that.

You released her fingers with a pop, and sneered, "It looks like someone forgot her house training, hm?"

"I'm sorry," she whimpered, her hands reaching out to try and pull you in for a kiss meant to distract, but unlike her you weren't prone to bouts of irrationality.

"No matter," you decided, voice too calm for her to believe you would let this go, you never did before. "You'll ride mommy's face until you're collapsing."

There it was... Wanda's favorite worst nightmare.

"Help mommy undress," you commanded, uncaring that she was still coming down from her high and likely preparing to beg you for another punishment. One that didn't require her to once again, do most of the work.

Her favorite punishment, as she was indeed a masochist, was for you to fuck her well into the double digits. To leave her pussy numbed, raw and red. Those nights are usually because some idiot hits on her and instead of leaning into the well known knowledge that Wanda would never leave you, you let the jealousy win.

If only that were the case of tonight's events...

After a moment of recollecting herself Wanda was perched up on her knees, shakily as she adjusted to being upright in her current hazed state. Just as soon as she got your suit jacket off you laid your hands on her hips to stabilize her, above all else you cared deeply for your girlfriend's safety. No accidental bruises would ever mar her incredibly soft, sun-kissed skin, only the freckles that reflected a day spent by the pool and your calculated imprints as you yanked her into a kiss.

It was just as she finished unbuttoning your polo, it had slipped off your shoulders and hung off your back as you chose to break the momentum. Or at least you tried to, you were sloppy and rather rough but she still managed to unzip your pencil skirt and push it down.

In a natural fashion she leaned into the affection, and it was then that you abruptly ended the lip lock. A soft whine of protest begged to leave her throat but you watched the muscle bob as she swiftly swallowed it.

"Get your clamps," you mumbled against her cheek with a smirk as she froze. "The one with the chain."

Wanda obediently entered your walk in closet to collect the toy you'd requested, along with the bullet vibe as you called in after her as you were lying down to wait.

There was a subtle shake in her legs that you caught as she nervously approached, her knees pressed to the end of the mattress and in seconds she was straddling your thighs, waiting patiently for your next command.

Wordlessly you kneaded her perky breasts, giving her that warm, comforting touch she craved before you let the cold metal snap around her sensitive nipples. As a stability test you yanked on the chain and chuckled as she moaned, her hot breath fanning over your face.

"Don't play games now baby," you warned her, the octave drop in your tone made her squirm in need. "Mommy knows your limits, so don't try to fake it."

Wanda nodded dumbly, her easy submission was something you found endearing. So naturally, you pecked her lips gently before going back to stern.

There was no point in delaying the inevitable, so the woman shimmied the rest of her way up your body until you were in control of the pace. You gripped her by the hips and situated her body so that her cunt hovered directly over your mouth, then you pulled her down and slid your hands down to hold her thighs.

In moments like these you knew Wanda worried that she would suffocate you with her chubby thighs, but you never shared in her concern. Not only were you once a competitive swimmer, so you were trained to hold your breath, but you didn't mind the challenge.

If the choice was between breathing and munching you would always pick the latter as it brought you more joy.

The more she moaned, your name leaving her lips like a saccharine prayer, the less you needed to breathe. There was no scientific explanation, but all you knew was Wanda was a temptation you'd always give in to.

It was like you had extra oxygen reserved for the moments where you'd bury yourself in her for minutes on end. Nothing but the slurping of your mouth could be heard, not even tiny gasps of air from either of you.

"I-I'm close," she pointlessly whispered, it was clear as you found it near impossible to move your tongue in and out of her constricting hole, if not for her slick that was so abundant it dripped down onto your chest you would never have been able to finish her off so fast.

Wanda's body slumped forward, face smushed into the headboard as she tried to breathe through her orgasm. Which was damn near impossible as you forced her body back upright and growled against her sensitivity, "Don't start misbehaving now honey, ride my face!"

This time your hands on her hip were merely there to keep her upright, no longer did you guide her body. Wanda whined in various ways, most pleasurable but a handful were in protest to your cruel expectations.

Keeping her hips in sync with your vivacious tongue was no easy feat and she was already tired as it was. There was no end to the torture either as you made her cum three more times, alternating between using your mouth to stimulate her clit and the powerful vibrator.

"N-no more," Wanda cried, "mommy please, 'm sorry."

"One more," you refused to relent, knowing she was so close to falling apart in the way you admired the most.

Wanda cried but obeyed, shakily rocking her body and letting you know with her pornographic moans that the pleasure well outweighed the suffering she proclaimed with her pleaded protests for reprieve. Truthfully, she hated having to do all of the work, so for the last few seconds before her release you guided her by the hips and yanked on the forgotten about nipple clamps.

The brunette completed her task as she crumbled into the headboard a panting mess, and she remained just like that for several moments before you bit her thigh. A reminder to let you breathe, worried green eyes gazed down as she shimmied back and you shook your head with a gentle smile and adoring eyes. "Kisses?"

Wanda beamed at the offer and immediately laid her body atop of yours and kissed you passionately. A filthy feeling overcame her as she tasted her arousal and you felt her excitement with the way her tongue traced over your lips and even briefly dipped down onto your chin.

Several minutes passed as you were lost in the softer intimacy until you felt her chest shake against yours. You rolled your eyes behind your lids before ending the lip-lock, sticking to your conviction to ensure she took a breath even when she whimpered and tried again.

"Lay down," you softly said and she did so easily, almost as if she realized later than you how tired she was. Both of your eyes closed and peace settled in.

A soft voice broke the tranquility, "what about you?"

"You don't have to baby," you reminded your lover who had already snuggled atop of you, but she persisted on stubbornly as her lips pressed to your neck and her hand roamed over your side en route to your core.

"I want to mommy," her fingers had entered you with conviction, but the pleasurable movement she offered died down within seconds. A soft chuckle left you as you caught her calm face, "such a pillow princess..."

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff blurb #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff x fem #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff fluff

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prettybabybaby · 1 year

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blessing in disguise | xavier thorpe !

¡ 18+ only ! ¡ minors do not interact !

content: NONCON , kidnapping, dark!xavier, fem!reader, unprotected sex, creampie

word count: 2.5k

synopsis: one final rejection and one accident resulted in something Xavier had only dreamed of.

disclaimer: all characters in my works are at least 18. there is dark and triggering content in this, as stated above. consider what you are comfortable with reading before you continue. your media consumption is your responsibility, not mine.

¡ wednesday masterlist !

It’s not like Xavier meant to do it. It was an accident and nothing more. He simply lost control and that’s not his fault. If anything, you were to blame for this.

You just looked so pretty in your cute dress, hair just like he liked it and a face as adorable as it gets with eyes lined and lips glossy. He was sure you’d finally say yes. Why else would you dress so beautifully to meet him in the woods? Especially knowing how he feels about you. It was for him. All for him and him only. For his eager eyes and yearning thoughts. You knew what you were doing.

But as always, you rejected him. Coldly, this time. Gone were the bashful and quiet apologies as you refused to meet his eyes, staring down at your feet or glancing over your shoulder as if you were afraid someone might hear you.

No, that wasn’t the case this time. You looked him in the eye with a huff, gaze hard. Your words were sharp and firm when you spoke, “can’t you take a hint? I don’t like you, Xavier.”

He was stunned, physically reacting with his brows lifting and eyes widening the slightest bit before they dropped, filled with the same venom that clouded yours, jaw clenching. It was so unlike you — well, the version of you he had concocted in his mind — he had the right to be angry with you. You disrespected him blatantly, again. All Xavier wanted was to love you.

Not even he could stop himself as his mind blurred before it blanked as he reached for you, wrapping his arms around you, brain and body fighting the urge to run his hands along your figure, desperate to feel it underneath his fingertips now that he had you so close. He snaked a hand up your body to your mouth, muffling your screams. You thrashed in his hold as he dragged you through the woods, taking the all-too-familiar path to his isolated art shed.

You panicked as he wrestled you to the ground, pinning your arms and running his nose along the column of your throat, breathing you in. You smelled so good, even better now that he could finally dissect the myriad of scents that made up the air that blew behind you every time you walked away from him, ignored him.

He wasn’t sure when you began to cry but your tears were already hitting the ground and soaking some of the brown strands of his hair when he kissed up your neck, savoring the taste of your skin.

“Xavier, stop,” you whispered, “I’m sorry.” You weakly pushed against him.

There was your sweet voice again. Fragile and delicate and so incredibly arousing. He sighed, kisses coming out messier and more frantic than before as he worked his way up to your lips that pleaded to be released, for him to wait, please stop.

Your lips touched briefly, nothing longer than a second before you turned your head, sobbing as you pushed more insistently. He was so caught up in the pillowy feel of your lips that he moaned pathetically against your cheek as he sloppily kissed the flesh of your cheek, eager for anything he could get. The salty flavor of your tears was as delectable as a delicacy.

As your legs kicked and your hips wiggled and your pants of exhaustion in his ear got shallower, he grew against your thigh, mindless jerks of his hips increasing speed as time passed.

Xavier felt himself grow warm, a deep, scorching pink painted his cheeks in embarrassment. What are you thinking? Are you thinking about how pathetic he is? Or how desperate he is for you? Maybe you’re finally realizing how badly he’s wanted to have you like this and just how far you had pushed him. You. Your doing. This was all your doing.

He used a single hand to pin your wrists, easily overpowering you as you tried to sit up, newly freed arm on its way to collide with his face.

“Sh,” Xavier mumbled, capturing your bottom lip between his as he slid an eager hand down your body. There was a violent throb as his touch hovered over your shoulders, so gently it seemed he was almost scared to touch what he wanted so badly.

It was quick to make its way back up when he felt a stutter come from your jaw. His hand wrapped around the base of your neck, a warning, “don’t even think about it.”

Xavier wasn’t used to being so demanding. Unfortunately this is what he had to do, it was his only option after all you had done. It pained him to make you cry — even if you looked so beautiful doing it. It hurt him to have to pin you down and take what was destined to be. You and him.

He felt you swallow under his hand as he encased your lips properly, tasting your mouth. He was already breathless, lost in you even when you refused to kiss him back, only making noises of protest as you squirmed.

His touch glided down your body, losing patience with you and himself for his hesitation. He’d have you again. As many times as he wanted after this.

He groaned into your mouth, frustrated at the dress you wore. Sliding down further, he pushed up your skirt, groping the fat of your soft thighs, tickling your flesh. Your knees twitched and he took a deep breath, pulling away from your lips to nip at your ears, licking the tears that dribbled down them.

“Xavier,” you cried softly, “please, don’t.”

A response was on the tip of his tongue but it quickly turned into a moan as his pinky came in contact with a wet patch on your panties. He laughed breathily, you didn’t mean that. Your body knew what your mind hadn’t quite grasped. You needed him.

You jolted, fighting even harder than before, “don’t touch me.” He could feel you getting angry, the fire in your eyes from before igniting again.

Xavier shook the hair that fallen out of his ponytail from his face to get a clearer look at your face. He wanted to watch you give in to the pleasure he would force on to you. His smallest finger ran up your slit and he watched closely as you fought the fluttering of your eyes. God. He had barely touched you and you already looked this perfect.

“Don’t,” you spat, trying to slide out from under him as you nails dug into his hand. He clenched his jaw, pursing his lips as he exhaled through his nose. Why did you have to make this so difficult?

He kicked your thighs apart with his own, settling between your legs. Your heat radiated, hot against his aching cock. He cupped your cunt, kissing your cheek as he pushed against your hole lightly to hear you hiss.

You jerked your hips when his fingers danced along the waistband of the soft fabric. He felt himself get hotter, cheeks turning redder when he glanced down, watching his hand disappear underneath it, immediately drenched in your juices. His palm stimulated your clit as his long middle finger prodded at your hole without entering it, teasing you. Your panties shifted with his movements, the bulge of his hand and slender fingers moving swiftly under the dainty bow near the top of your underwear jumping.

Your breath stuttered as you snapped out his name, “I said stop!”

Your voice was muffled as all of his focus was on the feel of your slick and tight heat choking the finger he forced inside you. Xavier all but whined at the sensation, cock leaking in his pants. Your feet kicked at the ground, chest rising and falling. In pleasure or frustration he wasn’t sure but he couldn’t be bothered to stop and ask as he squeezed another finger in.

You moaned, quickly closing your mouth to stop the noise. His eyes snapped up, flickering over your face. He had never heard a sound affect him more. Not even siren song could battle the noises of your pleasure. He’d do anything you asked him to. Well, almost anything. He’d never let you go no matter how many times your sweet voice pleaded for his mercy.

His lips crashed into yours, kissing you impatiently as he fingered you faster, trying to stretch you open enough to fill you full of his cock. You shook your head from side to side but he chased after you, swallowing your huffs and silent whines.

A whimper sounded in your throat as he curled his fingers, trying to find the spongy area that would have you purring for him. The noise had him removing his fingers, shoving them into his mouth as he leaned in close to you, breathing you in while your juices coated his tongue. His exhale was shaky as he shut his eyes, sucking harshly at his fingers to try and get more of your slick into his mouth.

“Xavier,” you breathed, “wait.”

His name fell so sweetly from your lips that he shoved his jeans down just enough to finally release his aching cock. He was leaking pathetically and throbbing against his hand as he pumped himself slowly, afraid he’d cum before he made it inside you.

“Fuck,” he mumbled against your skin. He gripped his length, hauling himself up to position his pulsing dick to your hole. “Shit,” he growled, tugging aggressively at your underwear that seperated you from him. “Sorry,” he murmured, feeling instant regret for hurting you, “I’m sorry.”

You started to scream as your ass felt the bare ground, tears building in the corners of your eyes as he slapped his cock against your dripping core. “Stop it, please, Xavier.”

He ignored you, gaze flickering from your cunt to your face as he pushed inside. He groaned as his head forced it’s way into you. It already felt like too much, the way your pussy latched onto his cock, welcoming him in despite your thrashing body.

Every inch had your screams dying, replaced with repressed moans as you opted to shut your mouth, denying him of the sounds. He couldn’t protest, concentrated on pushing back his orgasm that was too close for his liking. The last inch sent a wave of immense arousal down his body in the form of a shiver and a whimper. He stilled, focusing on his breathing and the bruised lip you tucked between your teeth.

You fit so well together, just like he knew you would. He glanced down, entranced by the way his hips were flush with yours, leaving no space for anything. You were finally one.

Your walls pulsed and it felt like they were begging him to move, to fuck you like he’d dreamed of doing too many times. He felt like all the waiting had been worth it now that you were choking his cock so deliciously. All of the times you rejected him, turned your back to him, dismissed him as if he wasn’t there, forgotten as he pulled back, watching the way your slick stuck to his hip as he retracted, keeping the two of you connected with a sticky string.

Xavier kissed your jaw as he pushed himself back in, nibbling at the skin near your ear. He tried to keep a slow pace at first afraid the urge to ruthless pound into you would take over. Your short, high breaths flooded his ears, a prize for resisting. It sounded like you were enjoying yourself, too. But how could you not when he was fucking you so well, patiently and passionately, just like you deserved. Even after all you did to him, you still deserved to be fucked like a princess.

Xavier smiled, pecking your neck as he rutted into you, his fingers undoubtedly leaving imprints of their shape on your waist. You found comfort in clinging to him, grasping his arms before curling your own under them, grabbing onto his shoulders.

“No,” you would cry, followed by a satisfied, “fuck.”

You were so warm and soft. He wished he had the patience to undress you properly, to touch you more. He’d have another opportunity, he reminded himself and that thought had his mind swimming. How could he help you adjust? Would it be difficult to get a mattress inside the small shed? Is there enough space? He’d be damned if you were uncomfortable in your little safe haven. It would be a place you would grow to love, he was sure of it. You just needed to process your new environment and the new dynamics of your relationship.

The loud whine that came from you brought him back to reality, back to the sight of you falling apart under him but trying to refrain from it. Your eyebrows were drawn together, mouth parted and face hot.

“M’gonna cum,” he struggled to utter out the words. “Fuck you’re perfect. Im gonna fill you so well.”

“No!” you screeched, pounding on his back as he pounded into you, thrusting harder and faster as his orgasm crept closer. “Don’t you dare!”

You pulsed more violently than before at the change of pace, clinging to his cock. He knew you wanted it, even if you wouldn’t admit it.

It was like you felt him about to burst, nails breaking the skin of his neck seconds before he came. You dragged them down and he felt blood rush down his neck as he came. The feeling was so intoxicating that he kept thrusting until he was milked dry despite the stinging pain. He didn’t have to look down to know that his t-shit was soaking in the crimson liquid so he opted to focus on your pretty face as he came down from his high. You were sobbing now, arms limp on the ground as your chest heaved.

Xavier begrudgingly pulled out of you, watching the pearly spent dribble out of your pussy as he stood. You stared at the ceiling, unmoving as he searched the shed, wordless. He wasn’t sure of what to say. Was there anything he could say at that point? He knew you didn’t understand yet. So he stayed silent until he found the lock and chain he had been searching for.

He walked over to you, clearing his throat. “Are you okay, sweetheart?”

You blinked at him. Sitting up and fixing your skirt as you dragged yourself away. He sighed, looking around to locate the blanket he knew he had around somewhere. He spotted it almost immediately, draped over an admittedly uncomfortable chair. It would have to do for now.

He draped it over your legs, smiling softly when you looked at him. “I’ll be back soon.”

It was a mistake, Xavier told himself as he stepped away from the now locked art shed glancing behind him and around the surrounding area as his hand attempted to soothe the fresh scratches on his neck. He just lost control for a second, it’s nothing major. You were destined to be there. Why else would he have done it? He wanted to love you forever. And now he can. You’d understand soon enough. The accident was a blessing in disguise.

#tw noncon #tw kidnapping #xavier thorpe (belle’s version)#dark!xavier #dark!xavier thorpe #yandere xavier thorpe #xavier thorpe x reader #xavier thorpe x you #xavier thorpe x y/n #xavier thorpe smut #dark xavier thorpe #dark fic #dark wednesday #xavier thorpe fanfic #xavier thorpe drabble #wednesday 2022 #wednesday fanfic #wednesday #xavier thorpe

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slmjaeyuns · 11 months

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₊✮⸜ ༘⋆ lee heeseung fics that (bias)wrecked me ₊✮⸜ ༘⋆

all time favourites ♡

(fics contain a combination of genres including fluff, angst, suggestiveness, smut)

♡ not if it’s you (pt.1)

not if it’s you (pt.2)

♡ always been you

♡ flatline

♡ cherry

cherry (pt.2)

cherry (pt.3)

cherry (epilogue)

♡ how to get back at your ex

♡ one hundred and one

fluff + angst ❀

❀ win one win me (f)

❀ open sesame (series ml.) (f)

chapter one - you open his door

chapter two - you realize your mistake

chapter three - you suffer some more

chapter four - you open one more door

chapter five - you leave the door closed

❀ good luck charm (f)

❀ you % heeseung (f)

❀ playful delicacies (f)

❀ we’re dating! (not really) (f)

❀ echoes of riot (a)

❀ us, at the end of the year (a)

❀ prayer for the dying (a)

❀ month of may (a)

june blossoms (f)

❀ maybe love can finally stay (a + f)

❀ second chance at love (a + f, slightly suggestive at the end)

suggestive/smut ☁︎

☁︎ as long as you’ll let me (literally going to tag basically all of their hee fics - check out their work bc they are so *chefs kiss*)

☁︎ you make me

you’ve made me

☁︎ playground crush

☁︎ in case of emergency: break me

☁︎ what you need

☁︎ lost time

☁︎ give it time

first date

☁︎ touch-starved

☁︎ warmth and comfort

☁︎ crush

☁︎ nobody gets me (you do)

☁︎ fiancé for hire (series ml.)

chapter one - put a ring on it

chapter two - kiss me more

chapter three - a modern fairytale

chapter four - midnight rain

chapter five - fiancée for real

epilogue - the wedding

☁︎ predictable predicament

☁︎ conflict of interest

#enhypen #enhypen heeseung #heeseung fluff #heeseung angst #heeseung smut #lee heeseung #heeseung fic #heeseung fic recs #heeseung scenarios #heeseung imagines #heeseung x reader #enhypen fic #enhypen fic recs

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yuellii · 5 months

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“ ooo, you wanna kiss me so bad! ” — furina / gn reader

There was something about the way this was easily the happiest she’s felt since she left the Palais.

It was mostly endearing, really (at least, she hoped it was), that you brought her mouthfuls of macarons and cake to stuff into her face like a woman starved of such a delicacy; though, she can’t help but plead a tad of gracelessness from the way she lived her life nowadays, barren of luxury in this small apartment.

She squealed happily, even so. “Oh, how I miss the Palais’ cooking!” she reveled in delight.

“Well, when you’ve been consuming nothing but macaroni these days, Lady Furina…”

“What?” she almost snarls defensively. Her cheeks flare red in embarrassment. Perhaps you didn’t fancy the bare basic, messy life she was showing you now… “Macaroni is good!”

You moved carefully, her eyes following your hands as they poured her more tea. “It is, my lady,” you didn’t deny. “But I can’t imagine you going a day, much less weeks, without something sweet for dessert.”

She almost crumbles from humiliation from that. Though you ( probably, she once again hopes ) did not mean your words in any insulting magnitude, there was no denying the shame she felt prickling at the corners of her eyes, nor the sharpness welling at the back of her throat. It was purely mortifying to have someone as special you think of her that way—her, as some spoiled, immature, strictly-sweet dieted bratty archon.

“Well…” she stutters out. She notices as your movements suddenly hesitate—perhaps there was something in her voice you’ve never heard before.

( And there was, truthfully so. There was a inkling of disappointment stemmed from a certain sadness you’d never imagine to hear from the all-magnificent, all-showcasing Furina de Fontaine. )

“Well, what you’re imagining is the archon you once knew,” she simply concluded, albeit quietly so. “Not me.”

There is a silence that ensues for just a moment; and curse her tendency to overthink, for now she was sweating over the way you thought of her. Perhaps it will finally hit that you pretty much knew nothing of her at all, and maybe then, you’d leave her alone. But she prayed that didn’t happen—once she’s gotten a taste of your company, she couldn’t quite let that feeling of companionship go. And… whatever other feelings came alongside it. But she could ignore that part of it, for now.

“That’s…” you started, and she tensed visibly, “true.” You pick up a red colored macaroon. It’s raspberry flavored. “I don’t know you, but I’d like to think that Furina also has a liking for sweets, if that is correct?”

She almost shivers when you say her name. No title, no formalities, just… her name. It sounds sweeter than the treat in your hand.

What more when you lift up the macaroon so delicately between your fingertips, and when your body leaned in. Her breath is practically caught in her throat when you press the edge of the macaroon gently between her lips, and it takes all of her brainpower just to open her mouth to bite it. Oh Archons, you just fed her… so improperly, too, like as a friend rather than a servant. She can feel her heart hammering painfully at her chest as her mind is screaming when her lips accidentally brush against your thumb—why is the surface area of this macaroon so small?!

Feeling embarrassed once more, she quickly snatches the rest of the bitten macaroon out of your hands so she can take the second and final bite on her own.

“Just Furina who still likes sweets…” she pondered aloud after chewing. “That’s… That’s right!” She brightly smiles to herself, “As I am a common civilian of society now, I know not to waste food on the table!” She talks quickly to attempt at quelling the redness on her face, though she does not know how well that is working. Her eyes frantically scan the table for any hopes of a conversation diversion, and they land on the plated cookies right in front of you. “And in any case, you look like you aren’t interested in eating, anyways—can I have your cookies?”

“All yours,” you wave off, and she visibly grows excited as her hand darts out in front of you. “Just don’t take the shortbread— Furina!”

She grabs the only shortbread cookie left on the platter with a force so strong it almost breaks it in half. And all the while, there is a sparkling mischief in her eyes. She knew this brand of shortbread cookies were your favorite—and she watched as they were the only thing you’ve been eating this whole time. And to make matters more infuriating? You knew she didn’t even like them!

Now, Furina definitely did not expect you to be so passionate about your shortbread to the point where you would dive forward to collide with her body, and reach your hand to grab the cookie before she put it in her mouth. Even as she sat up, there was a certain childish silliness in your expression that you’d never shown her before—one that made her heart throb so painfully hard she… accidentally comepletely ate the cookie she was supposed to only tease you with.

Oops.

“Furina!” you whined, visibly pouting as you leaned back. “I was saving that one!”

And here she was, sitting completely flustered ( and maybe a little lovestruck ) at your exchange. So, she does the only thing she knows how to: she talks.

“First you feed me,” she begins to blabber. “Then you try to steal a cookie that was already in my mouth—” Where was she going with this again? She thinks she might be staring at your lips a little too long right now; she lost her train of thought. “Your fixation on my lips means you want to kiss me, oh my Archons!”

She looks away once your expression changes, not wanting to deal with that just yet.

“You want to kiss me sooo bad, you look stupid trying to—”

…

“If you could just shut. Up.”

…You just kissed her. The words you just said, so deeply mean and informal, did not even register; because before you even said them, you just kissed her. Mouth agape, she feels sick—Did that really just happen? Did you really just—?

“Furina?” you called, shaking her shoulder from the side. “Furina, are you okay?”

“You idiot!” she yelled, turning and grabbing both your hands in hers. The color red was washed all over her face, coating her entire expression in flushed embarrassment as she stuffed the warmth of her face in your balled hands. “That was my first kiss, you’re so mean!”

She couldn’t even think right now, heart pounding wildly against her lungs as her mind searched—searched to remember the feeling of your lips against hers. Oh good Gods, she felt sick. Sick, and starved, and desperate, and delusional, and downright drowned in her own doom. This was so humiliating. She kind of just wanted to die in front of your hands right now.

“You’re the one who stole my cookie, and then kept teasing me!” you exclaimed back, freeing your hands to gently grab her face between them. She pouted into your hold, eyes closed before they could brim with tears from embarrassment. “If kissing you made you stop—?!”

Two could play at that game when Furina herself leaned in now to kiss you, leaving your hands hanging in the air behind her as her own hands moved to secure your face against hers, not letting you move.

A muffled “Furina—!” draws from your lips before she dives back in to her kiss, shutting you up completely just as how you did to her.

It’s pretty effective. She thinks she likes this way of getting you to be quiet.

this is my girlfriend she loves mac and cheese 👍 i’m really not the best with silly funny stuff like this but i tried </3 in the future, i really want to write furina in my style ! // not proofread

🕰️ // @definitelynotaneulasimp @ryuryuryuyurboat @naraven <3

#furina x reader #furina x you #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #genshin women x reader #furina x y/n #genshin fluff #genshin x gender neutral reader #furina

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superfallingstars · 4 months

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snape is such a fun character to make headcanons for because i feel like there’s so many ways you can go with it. like, i’ve seen a lot of people say that snape doesn’t take care of himself, like not eating well or washing his hair (lol), and i think that definitely makes sense considering his martyrdom/guilt complex and being raised in poverty. but i’ve also seen people imagining that snape is like really good at cooking and baking, which makes sense with him being a potions master but also kind of conflicts with the other point of view. i think the happy medium is that snape knows how to cook and bake but wouldn’t take the time to do them for himself, only for other people. however there’s a secret fourth option that i want to know people’s opinions on

i like the idea that snape actually does take care of himself, but he’s just kind of bad at it. like i think he tries to make his hair look decent, but it just gets greasy really fast and he tends not to notice until it’s already in pretty bad shape. and i also kind of like the idea of snape not only cooking and baking for others, but also for himself – not out of any real love or care for himself, but as a way of chasing success and distancing himself from his childhood and from poverty. like i can just picture him at the malfoys trying some fancy hors d’oeuvres and being like, oh, so this is how the other half lives. i want to get good at this. and there’s something wonderfully ironic (and let’s be real, kind of pathetic) about the idea of snape carefully preparing a charcuterie board of expensive delicacies to eat by himself in the dungeons or the drafty old sitting room in spinner’s end.

in this case, his hair and his eating habits are really symptoms of the same problem – he’s trying to run away from his past, but he just keeps failing. he tries to fit in with the upper class and the purebloods, to the point he acts like them even when he’s alone, but there’s always something that betrays him as an outsider, whether it’s his body, his loneliness, or the fact that he still lives in his childhood home. no matter what he does, no matter how hard he tries to escape himself and his memories, he just can’t succeed.

…almost like how even when he’s trying to be a good person, he still has to kill someone he cares about to be one. he’ll never be free of his past, he’ll never be firmly on one side or the other. he’s just kind of doomed.

basically the takeaway here is that any headcanon can be true if you frame it the right way. also we should read way too much into everything forever. ok byeee

#lol this is the draft i was talking about. it’s mildly insane but. whatever #hp #severus snape #snape #hp meta #snape meta #pro snape #professor snape #snape fandom #pro severus snape #snapedom #harry potter meta #harry potter #hp fandom #my posts

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shidouryusm · 7 months

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Im not coming home

Gojo Satoru x reader

Content- angsty angst, just a lot of pain, reference to recent manga,

A.N -> i wrote this in a bus all teary faced with a concerned old uncle looking at me. I need my blue eyed boyfriend so bad. This is me mourning I haven’t been able to do it properly all day. Im sorry pls dont kill me. Not proofread this is a heat of the moment writing literally 😭

“See you guys tomorrow”, you say softly before sprinting out of the building. As if your body clock instantly knows when to chime in and draw you back to your nest.

You briskly get out of the room, offering a small wave to Shoko who just entered. Her concerned eyes following your trail.

The sun was floating in the horizon, the ground painted asphalt from the dying colours of the twilight and the air filled with intangible thickness of cold. In the midst of it, you walked. You walk with a rising tornado of emotions bubbling inside you, contrast to the drying winter.

You walked through the bustle of Roppongi. The town was back from the shambles it was two months prior. Always finding a way to bounce back into its original upheaval.

Amongst the skyscrapers decorating Roppongi, you eyes wander to the little sweet shop- selling the ever famous kikufuku — sweet cream filled mochi with Zunda paste. Satoru’s ever favourite.

“baby, this isn’t just a sweet.” Satoru gasps indignantly upon hearing your allegations of getting a cavity from it — “It’s a delicacy. Zunda and sweet cream— a work of culinary that you need to appreciate by savouring it as much as you can”, you roll your eyes as you watch your boyfriend plops another mochi in one bite. “Well that doesn’t mean you can double it up as lunch , Toru. you need to eat some actual meal”

“In that case, I can eat yo— I’m sorry” gojo quickly moves away as you swivel the huge cushion towards him, sweet chuckles erupting from his chest as you look at him poutedly.

The little playback of the memory cracked a little smile on your face — the shop ever so reminiscent of your little late night trips with Satoru whenever you both feel insomniac.

You walk over to the shop, feet reflexively carrying you towards the whirlwind of memories you have with him.

The sun had already settled beneath the darkness when you arrived home. The huge compound of area void of any presence. You enter the room, turning the lights on as you settle on the table. The small bag of kikufuku carefully placed on it.

“I’m home” you say without any conscious thought behind.

How can you? When these words never failed to emerge a 6’3 white-haired nuisance, his large hands encircling your waist, his nose breathing in your scent as you get slightly levitated into the air from the insane height difference. The small whispers of “I love you”s and “I miss you”s exchanged in the small gap between your faces — as if it were eternities since you both met each other. Those cerulean eyes of his mirroring your pools with affection and love that ran miles after miles.

Followed by little kisses pressed to your cheeks, then to your eyes and lastly placed on your lips. Those soft rhythm of his lips like promises of eternity.

Your chest twists in pain like you hugged a teddy bear fashioned with sharp daggers, slicing through your soul.

A sharp throb of your heart against your ribs as if it’s begging to be freed and chase the one it’s destined to beat for always. Your body turns numb, the tears like rivulets against your cheek— while you let them flow freely after a day long facade. Your shaky hands wander aimlessly into the air, pleading to find the silhouette, the comfort, the warmth of his body.

A part of your soul seemed to die everyday since then and today another sliver of it withered into nothingness.

Your voice broken like the shards of mirror reverberates across the large room that no one but you occupy, “im home, ‘toru. Where are you?”

The bag of kikufuku lays on the table as it is but Satoru hasn’t arrived home.

A.N 2 -> Yall pls dont be mad this is my way to cope. Even though I wrote this Im clutching on to the littol hope that he will return. If not then understand gege snuffed the life out of me as well

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yzzart · 5 months

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"𝐎𝐡, 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡?"

pairing: president!Coriolanus x f!reader.

summary: Coriolanus could do anything he wanted except run away from his past.

word count: 2.117!

warnings: content a little dark, manipulation, possessiveness, mention of lyrics from "queen of peace" by florence + the machine, mention of violence and death, explicit words

notes: just listen to this song and you will soon understand everything!

"Darling?"

Coriolanus' voice boomed through the atmosphere of the main room, which had a peculiar snowflake shape, along with the noises and clicks of his footsteps with his shiny, expensive, black-pigmented shoes. — By the obvious movement, the young man was restless due to your absence.

Coming to think and wonder if you had left without telling him, or, mainly, without asking him for permission.

No, wouldn't you be capable of doing something like that with him? Right. — He wouldn't admit it once again in his life, on his skin.

Continuing with his determined steps, Coriolanus began to feel more restless, wanting some information or a simple crumb of bread, poetically, about your whereabouts. — He could just scream your name trying to find you, but he kept that suggestion in a dark and unplanned place in his mind. — Coriolanus clicked his tongue, almost clenching his teeth.

Till a melody surrounded the ears of Coriolanus; she was far away, perhaps, at the end of the corridor where he was present. — The melody was muffled, almost inaudible, in terms of actually understanding the lyrics, but its vibration calmed him down, there being a limit to a certain point.

He approached the room, cautiously, and with each step, the louder and more understandable the song became, and the lyrics demonstrated meaning now. — Leaning his fingers on the golden handle of the white door made of the richest wood, Coriolanus opens it just a little, leaving a gap and having the opportunity to dazzle his image.

"And my love is no good…" — In such a sultry and melancholy tone with a mixture of unhappy emotion, your voice continued to invade the young man's attention. — "…against the fortress that it made of you." — The fallacies were determined on your delicate lips, like a fable.

While, indeed, a miserable lump formed precipitately in your throat; scratching your with such a blunt and barbaric intention. — The same knot that could be made to eliminate those who were accused and denounced for treason.

A knot that was once made, made by the rough, calloused and filthy hands of your loved one. — The same hands that touched your body like a sculpture, thinking about the delicacy and care he should monopolize with you; losing himself in a thought so dark, that he claimed to be the only one who could admire it. — Being able to tear out the eyes, or even the hearts, of those who try to win a touch or greeting from you.

Coriolanus's hands were already dirty, so what would be the point of not getting them some more dirty?

"Blood is running deep." — Your hands passed over the sublimely rich fabric of your dress and with a reddish pigmentation, which was not subtle and, incredibly, of a very strong and intense tone. — "Sorrow that you keep." — That piece of clothing was clearly a gift of passion and dedication from your lover.

Passion could be a very strong word and a little dubious, in some cases, even intolerable. — You didn't believe that, which was possibly ironic coming from a girl from the Capital. — However, even though he deeply hated how his fingers were being pressed against the thorns of a rose, Coriolanus announced that it was out of passion; even not being.

He would never believe in that feeling again in his life, in his death or in his, presumably, incarnation. — His poisonous and lying lips would not risk uttering that word; and feel fragile, and so weakened again. — You would never be enchanted by the illusions and songs of a bird.

Coriolanus would not admit another reflection of his defeat against that little bird.

"Now you have me on the run." — The lyrics fit perfectly into the young man's troubled mind; wanting to drive him insane, even beneath that skin lies. — He felt like he was eighteen again. — "The damage is already done." — There was a pain behind those words, perhaps, accompanied by a meaning.

It seemed that the order of the song had been tampered with, a modification, vulgarly, made without any kind of shame or embarrassment in being expressed. — Because that was the main purpose; something that was exposed and taught by a little singing bird in the bitter breast of Coriolanus. — And, that way, you felt and let yourself experiment and experience.

All this because of him. — All this Lucy Gray has already done and had the opportunity to change and escape.

The young president felt his blood boil, expanding into a relentless and violent burning; just like him. — Coriolanus desired, longed to end that miserable song, to interrupt what, in fact, was bewitching and weakening his consciousness; he felt persecuted. — However, never destroyed. — So suffocated, in a perverse way.

"Is this what you want?" — How come you hadn't noticed his presence yet? Even Coriolanus's breathing was intimidating, and warned any soul of who was nearby. — "Cause you're driving me away…" — He wanted to laugh, in fact, he wanted to laugh at his testimonies turned into song; perhaps this was one of the symptoms of nervousness.

Your lover forced himself to bury any trace of tension that coursed, or rather, that flew, freely, between his body; he did not accept that such an inferior and ordinary feeling coming into contact with him. — Coriolanus' nostrils already smelled the wild fragrance of the forest; that smell of wet earth, of branches and leaves wet with a mixture of mud and the, terribly, natural aroma of birds. — Snow was starting to feel disgusted with himself.

He wanted to mock himself, mock that thought, mock the way he was hallucinating.

You continued, unbearably, ignoring the presence of Coriolanus; realizing it as if he were a ghost from an insufferable and uncomfortable past, analyzing the only way to save yourself from him. — Image of you remained calm, balanced and stable, possibly acting; exercising a moment of pretense over his emotions conceived in that composition. — Was that truly possible?

"Some things never sleep." — Your voice developed a weakness, little by little, and became a punished whisper trying to complete the desolate song; like a little bird asking its mother for help and losing its voice but never stopping singing.

Coriolanus desired to push open the door of wood so rich and well wrought, thus ending with that despicable and tormenting torture; normally, the young boy would order with subtlety and supposedly being careful with his words directed at you, however, that circumstance was not considered normal. — More sudden action would be tolerated. — But, something in Coriolanus prevented him from committing such an act.

Suddenly, Coriolanus's strength had disappeared, leaving no footprints or any simple traces; he didn't have the courage or his arrogant, arrogant bravery coursing through his blood at that moment. — The president of Panem did not know how to explain, or justify, why and how this was happening, precisely, to him; For the first time in years, he didn't have an answer on his sharp tongue.

Coriolanus remained standing, watching your image walking through the modest environment, so organized and dark in color with some light tones that it made you sick; unfortunately, the issue of decorating the room did not have your help or opinion, as everything was requested by Coriolanus. — Now your steps echoed, softly, on the wooden floor that shined, to the point of showing a little reflection, and his attention was contented with the bookcase that was present. — At least one good thing, you said when you first saw it.

It was a whim that Coriolanus asked to put on, especially, for you; something that was recognized with a lot of love and gratitude, he remembers that an emotional smile remained on your lips the entire day. — You had loved, in fact, adored and so grateful for the attention you received from your lover.

Most of the books that were there addressed and talked about the Capital, of course; the words discussed Panem's victories, valuing its homes and riches, describing its beauties in each paragraph and despising the districts and rebels in each verse. — Even though you were so unhappy, not wanting to understand that hatred, that desire to extinguish so many people and children, you continued reading. — Having no options about what to do with such immense free time and being so lonely.

At least the singing was over, Coriolanus thought. — His body was already ready to move away from that door, wanting to return to his main and future tasks, not allowing any more distractions. — And burning, with rigidity and robustness, the traces of his thoughts about his past, about his miserable eighteen-year-old soul, about the little bird that escaped from its cage.

But, from the looks of it, Coriolanus had found another and this time, he would not leave the door to his golden cage open and there were no more bars for everyone to see what was inside. — Only he would have this opportunity, this satisfied and sweet privilege.

"Is this what you want?" — Once again, your voice vibrated through the room, and it seemed as if ypur lips were pressed against Coriolanus's ears, for he heard clearly and so loudly; wanting to rip them out, something peculiar and curious because your voice was beautiful and at the same time managed to charm him.

Coriolanus wanted to slam his chiseled, arrogant face against that damned door, just like that, opening it.

Raising his fascinating and deeply honorable blue eyes, Coriolanus followed your body as it walked again, with tight steps, once again across the room and passing by a large and clean mirror; that Coriolanus forgot, without tolerance, its existence. — Another whimsical gift that he had ordered placed there. — And he was able to admire, contemplate himself in your beauty and affirm how that color suited you, and even commented to Tigris; and how that dress flattered your curves.

That piece of clothing, which cost more than the blood, body and, possibly, the soul of the people who lived in the Capital, valued your body. — Satisfying the eyes and desires of Coriolanus.

Taking a deep breath, Coriolanus controlled himself, imposing a limit on his mind and leaving such inappropriate and unrespectable thoughts for a correct and appropriate moment. — When he blinked his eyes, committing himself to regularizing his affairs, his eyes deepened for the last time on you, thus acting in a silent farewell. — And you continued in front of the mirror, running your hand, for the second time, over your dress, looking for any wrinkles; and there were none.

Snow wasn't looking at your reflection, oddly enough, he was also looking for any wrinkles or loose threads, stubborn in the fabric. — And he concluded that there was nothing, everything was perfect. — His attention went to your reflection in the mirror, wanting to see your beautiful face, this time, and quickly, Coriolanus' body became static, completely immobile in front of what he had seen.

A pain so anguished and agonizing, as if he had been shot, that would tease his life until the end of it, formed in his chest; deepening with his uncontrolled breathing, his eyes glassy and almost watering, unable to blink. — Coriolanus looked like a harmless animal, who was facing his death and ready to be devoured. — Your hands began to sweat and, at the same time, a tingling sensation began between your fingers.

His saliva ran down his throat, and he couldn't even speak, it seemed impossible and he didn't have the chance or strength to even sigh. — The promising young man of Panem could be going crazy, when in fact, he was wishing he were dying.

"Cause you're driving me away." — You were no longer singing, now, your lips released a concrete affirmation, finding a certainty in your heart and directing it to the one who spied on your soul. — You knew he was there, you knew Coriolanus had his eyes on you from the beginning.

However, it was not your eyes that met his through the mirror; oh, Coriolanus wanted them to be his. — And as he wished, in fact, in better words, he cried out, begged. — And never being a man of belief, not believing in any supposition, or anything of the sort, not even in words of faith, Coriolanus prayed that he was going mad, becoming insane.

Coriolanus Snow imagined himself on his knees among splinters of wood and stones, begging that image, which was standing still, immobilized and, sternly, admirable, and staring at him to go away; that disappears, disappears without direction or path, just like it had done once. — He wanted to punch, hurt his hands, that unfortunate glass that reflected.

Because Lucy Gray's body was fixed on the mirror, instead of your.

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus #snow #tom blyth #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus fanfiction #coriolanus imagine #the hunger games #the hunger games x reader #the hunger games the ballad of songbirds & snakes #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #ballad of songbirds and snakes

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13knowge · 4 months

Text

Hi. For a long time i thought this was pretty weird (?) but after doing more research i found out that many people shared it and it made me pretty happy, i found a part on the internet pretty funny and i want to have fun too.

I'm not very good at English but i tried my best getting a little help.

So, these are my favorite OP characters and some headcanons i have of them of how they are when they are in love or in a relationship.

CW: SFW / KINK

Kaido

Kaido in love can get pretty scary, he knows he's scary and uses it to make fun of you. He also invades your personal space.

When he is drunk he seeks physical contact, sometimes he doesn't measure his strength and you get to feel a bit of discomfort to his grip.

He doesn't care if his subordinates are present or not when he shows his affection towards you, he likes to show you off.

His way of flirting is to take you on his ship to accompany him to eliminate his enemies, he wants to show you how strong he is and the respect his crew has for him.

In intimacy he likes to use intimidation and point out how small you are and that he could tear you apart if he wanted to.

Rob Lucci

He definitely chases you everywhere, no matter where you go, he will follow your footsteps wherever you decide to go. You will never be out of his vision. It's not that he distrusts you, he trusts you wholeheartedly, it's just that his favorite activity is to always be with you even though he recognizes that you need your "space".

He spies and reports on every person who approaches you to know if they are to be trusted. Regardless of your opinion, that is up to him to decide.

It will be better for everyone's sake that no one dares to even draw a tear from you or else he will commit the most violent and bloody murder. Eventually you will realize that this person has disappeared.

He doesn't show you affection in front of others, for him that's too private, but he also doesn't bother if it's you who shows some kind of affection, in that case, he doesn't ignore you.

When it's just the two of you alone, he never lets go, he's a cat that climbs on top of you to lick your neck.

During sex he has absolute control over your body, he knows perfectly where to touch you and how to make you go crazy. He uses his hybrid form to leave marks like scratches and some bites.

On special occasions he likes to be treated as a pet and to wear a collar to dominate him and follow your orders.

Shanks

He is very attentive and dedicated, he treats you with great delicacy and gentleness. Very gentlemanly.

He will always give you the best of the best, you will never be disappointed. He looks for the best treasures to be your property.

He will make you laugh many times, he is a very funny man, especially when he is drunk.

All the time he is talking about you. Even when he fights with his enemies, before finishing them he presumes that he has to leave quickly because he has to kiss someone.

He recognizes your strength and independence but is secretly terrified of something bad happening to you.

In a drunken state is when he is most sexually active and becomes a complete stranger, he is very wild. He has a fetish for smells and is very aroused by the contact when both are sweaty. In the midst of this activity he likes to talk dirty.

Sir Crocodile

It must be a miracle when he says something nice about you. He is not very affectionate, it is very difficult for him, sometimes it seems that he is not even interested in you.

He is a man of very few words, he has peculiar ways of letting you know he loves you and makes sure they are unique and special.

He does not like you to get involved in his work. He will keep the relationship very private and would expect you to do the same.

He is very jealous, as soon as someone wants to flirt with you, Crocodile squeezes your waist with his hook.

He doesn't like to murder people when you are present, he thinks it's something you shouldn't witness.

Although he thinks Buggy is an idiot, he is one of the few people next to Mihawk that he feels safe for you to be with.

When it comes to sex he is rough and gentle at the same time. He makes sure you feel comfortable. After that he feels more open to express his feelings and tell you how much he loves you.

I had a lot of fun writing this hahahahaha, hope you like it <3

#one piece #one piece headcanons #rob lucci #shanks #sir crocodile #kaido #kaido one piece #rob lucci x reader #sir crocodile x reader #kaido x reader #shanks x reader

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sammylvsfairys · 2 months

Note

GIRL we need some comfort shots with spencer reid I haven´t seen many of those, but that guy has SOME SERIOUS SHI GOING ON maybe comforting him to sleep (sfw)

(or not)

(or both oH mY)

pairing: spencer reid x gn!reader genre: fluff, established relationship. warnings: english is not my first language!! a/n: THE WAYY I NEEDED TO WRITE SOMETHING AB SPENCER.

requests are currently open !

y/n noticed spencer acting strange all day; maybe it was just their mind playing tricks, but they were sure something weird was going on. when night fell, that uneasy feeling intensified as spencer moved around the room, avoiding bedtime.

"spencer," y/n called. "it's late, don't you wanna go to sleep, darling?"

spencer's eyes narrowed with almost paralyzing fear.

"i'm not sleepy," he mumbled a little later. y/n smiled, trying to find a logical explanation for spencer's irrational behavior.

"come on, aren't you the one always telling me how important it is to get eight hours of sleep?" y/n moved closer, fingers through spencer's hair, seeking to calm something they didn't even know existed.

spencer melted under the touch but still insisted, "i slept on the jet."

y/n laughed. "you can't compare crashing on a couch a thousand feet in the air to snuggling in bed with your partner, can you?"

spencer tensed even more at that, as if the memory of his nap on the jet haunted him.

y/n moved their hands to spencer's chin. "don't you want to tell me what's going on, baby?" their sweet tone made spencer nearly melt into their arms.

"i'm tired of having so many nightmares..." he began.

y/n continued caressing his skin for support.

"and i'm so afraid that one day i'll open my eyes and realize it wasn't just dreams, and you're not really with me."

y/n hummed as they listened, thinking about what to say next. "you can't go without sleep..." they started.

spencer interrupted, "i know, but i'm scared-"

now it was y/n's turn to interrupt. "i know, sweetheart. that's why i thought maybe i could keep an eye on you while you try to sleep."

spencer's eyes lit up at the idea, but guilt quickly settled in his mind.

"it's too much; you can't go without sleep just because you were watching over me."

y/n chuckled softly. "spencer reid, you're an idiot if you think a few hours of missed sleep mean it's not worth you getting a good night's rest too. we both deserve some proper rest, but right now, it's you struggling to sleep, remember?"

spencer felt like he might cry; it was the first time someone treated him with such delicacy and understanding.

"let's go to sleep, spence. i promise i'll be there in case anything happens."

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds

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craisinsensation1029 · 2 months

Text

She Missed Me v.2

Hiromi Higuruma

so i did write another version of this, but i like this one a bit better hahaha cus uh... there's penetration lmfao. also i actually edited this one. this one is also on AO3 :)

established relationship (engaged woooo), pussy eating, Hiromi just being a munch meister, he literally talks to ur pussy like fr, vaginal sex, he talks u thru it, pet names, teeny tiny daddy kink, praise kink, implied cockwarming, soft sex, I guess its cute like if u squint

3.2k

MDNI

To put it simply, Higuruma is in love with your pussy. He’s so in love with your pussy, actually.

If he could, he would propose to it the same way he did to you just a few months ago. He will always love you more of course, but he would be more than happy to put it on paper, a loud and proud declaration of just how devoted he is to your cunt.

The appearance, whether it’s freshly waxed and completely bare, or with a small little landing strip that guides him to the riches that are your slick folds. Or even when the hair is grown out, peach fuzz tickling his face as he gets ready to dive in and devour you. He really doesn’t care what he’ll find when he pulls your panties down. Better yet, when you lift up the cheeky little skirts and dresses you love wearing and showing him that you aren’t wearing any panties at all. Those times admittedly, turn him on to a degree that some may find alarming.

And that’s not all there is to love appearance wise, oh no. Far from it. When his hands finally do trail down and part your thighs, he always has to stop himself from salivating. Oh how he just loves seeing your little clit, adores sucking it into his mouth until it’s engorged and swollen. Watching you whine and cry out because it’s just too much for you to handle. But how can he really stop himself when he knows how good it feels for you (and in these instances, he ignores the self indulgence sucking on your bud provides for himself). It doesn’t stop there either. Seeing your folds glistening after he gets you off from clitoral stimulation alone, the excitement in knowing his tongue is going to add to the mess.

Then there’s the smell. He doesn’t even know how to describe it, but it’s just so invigorating. Not quite sweet but far from sour. A natural redolence that he wishes he can bottle up and spray whenever he needs a fix.

Lastly, there’s the taste. They always say save the best for last, but even he can admit that he can be a glutton. There aren’t enough words on the planet to describe just how much he loves your nectar; a true ambrosia that is incomparable to anything else that has landed on his taste buds. He can spend hours between your thighs, licking and sucking at you like a man who has been stranded at sea for years and is now relishing in something delectable for the first time.

A true amalgamation that makes him savor every look, every sniff, every touch, every taste.

It's nothing short of an obsession. It would be easy to argue that it's borderline sick how much he loves your pussy, but it's an affliction he wishes to never rid himself of.

It’s the only thing on his mind when he’s having a long day at work, information pertaining to the cases of his clients paling in comparison to the thought of having his face buried between your thighs. Physically he’s sitting across from a client, taking notes and nodding but mentally he’s swimming in your essence, drowning himself in your arousal. He's visited many countries and has indulged in many delicacies, picturesque sights and delicious food people would kill to experience as often as he has. Yet, he feels the most solace when he's home with the greatest treasure there is.

When he can finally log off of his computer and make his way home, he knows there’s only one remedy to the drawn out day. Lucky for him, what he needs is always in stock.

The aroma of your cooking hugs his nostrils when he enters the house, but there’s another scent that will provide him with even more ecstasy. After shrugging off his coat and standing in the doorway of the kitchen, his shoulders slump in relaxation when he sees you. A true virtuoso in everything you do, you move around the kitchen with ease, reaching to one of the higher cabinets where some of the many seasonings are. Summer Walker’s voice over the bluetooth speaker prevents you from hearing his footsteps, so he just stares in admiration for a moment.

Working always finds itself to be fruitful when he has you to come home to. As you bob your head and hum along softly to the song playing he takes a step forward letting his arms encircle your waist, lips brushing along the shell of your ear as he sighs against the softness of your body.

“Hi, ‘Romi,” you say softly, letting your body relax into his touch, melding into him. It’s almost like a reflex, letting your body be cradled by him.

“Hi, baby,” he murmurs, lips moving lower to kiss at the supple skin of your neck, hands pulling you back against him.

“How was work?” you question.

“Long. So long.” He can admit to himself he’s already a bit hard, cock stirring from the moment he parked in the driveway. Probably even before that if he's being completely truthful. His pants were a bit tight as soon as he left the office. “Need you to help me relax.”

“How?” Now, you aren’t oblivious to the affection he loves showering your cunt with, but hearing him saying it always fans the flames of your arousal. Hearing the man that's always so put together voice aloud his lewd thoughts just always riles you up. “Tell me.”

"You really wanna hear?" A soft chuckle leaves his lips and is buried into your neck, sending a shiver down your spine as his hands dip down to the apex of your thighs. He's never been much of a patient man, letting one thumb brush over your clothed clit. “Need to see her,” he says softly. “Been missing and thinking about her all day.”

The words make you clench around nothing, and you can already feel his hardening cock against your ass. The big shirt of his that you're wearing is no match for his bulge.

“C’mon,” Higuruma mutters, lips still sucking against the sensitive portions of your neck, one hand still working at teasing your clit over the shirt. “I know she missed me too.”

And in the blink of an eye you’re sitting on the couch—cooking dinner abruptly paused—with his head sandwiched between your thighs. The slight stubble from a few days of not shaving tickles, but you don't mind.

You can always tell how his day went from how needy he is. On days he doesn’t find as taxing he always starts with showering the lips on your face with kisses, letting his tongue claim the inside of your mouth. A day like today though, the lips below your waist get attention first. You have no issues with that though, none at all.

A small wet patch sits directly in his line of vision as he lets out a sigh of content. “She’s crying for me,” he mumbles. “Guess she missed me as much as I missed her.”

He inches in closer, letting his nose trail up the length of your clothed slit, moaning as your scent invades his nostrils. Your wetness against the bridge of his nose is just a plus as he makes his way up to your clit. He does it again, just letting his nose nuzzle against your cunt, letting your arousal coat his face, breathing in your scent. Already so pussy drunk and he hasn’t even had a taste yet.

His palms find sanctuary on top of your thighs and squeeze as he continues to let his face hug your cunt, nose brushing against your clit deliciously (and very much deliberately) each time.

“Sh-She did,” you breathe out, chest heaving each time he nuzzles against your sensitive bud. He’s doing it on purpose, just teasing, but you know better than to rush him.

“I can tell, baby.” He looks up, lust filling every space in those negative canthal eyes you adore so much. “Gonna take care of her now, don’t worry.” He pulls the crotch of your underwear aside, eyes filled with merriment when he sees your glistening slit, wet spot having grown since he got comfortable between your legs.

His impatience can never be confused with sloppiness. Without wasting time he flattens his tongue against your slit, coating every single one of his taste buds with your nectar. His greed always makes the movements of his tongue calculated, meticulous. He moans in satisfaction, being able to enjoy this reward for sitting in that stuffy office all day. Tropical vacations are nice, but having his tongue lapping at your cunt provides him with just as much tranquility. There isn't a five star meal that can compare to your taste, the one that he's been addicted to from the very first moment you blessed him by opening up your legs and telling him you've never came from head before.

Boy did he show you. And he showed you again, and again, and again.

A moan leaves your lips as his tongue continues to lick at your folds. You know better than to squirm, having been accused of trying to run from him before, but he never understands just how intense the feeling is. He can eat you every night for weeks and it wouldn't change the pleasure he's able to provide you with.

"Fuck, really needed this today." He doesn’t even care how hard he is, only caring about shoving his tongue as deep as he physically can inside your cunt. He keeps working at you, slurping and sucking, letting his head move from side to side.

"Hi--Hiromi, th-that's s'good."

"Yeah?" His hands grip your plush thighs firmly, keeping you in place as he continues dragging his tongue up and down your slit, teasing at your rings of muscle with the point of his tongue as he does. "God, she's trying to drown me," he chuckles lightly, admiring the slickness of your heat. Swimming has always been one of his strong suits though, so he dives back in with more vigor this time. All the while his nose bumps against your clit, little bud past the point of swollen but there isn’t a chance you’ll tell him to stop.

“Always so fucking good, baby,” he murmurs, giving you momentary reprieve as he plants wet kisses along your inner thighs. You’re able to catch your breath for only a moment, but he’s not done. Far from it.

Two masterful fingers circle your entrance before pushing their way inside, met with little resistance as his digits are instantly being hugged by your warm walls. “Already squeezing me so tight." His cock throbs as your walls grip his digits. "I just knew she was thinking about me, maybe I should quit working so I can take care of her full time.” You writhe, cunt clenching around his digits as he pushes them in so he’s knuckle deep. He curls them so they brush against that sweet spot inside of you, a whine escaping from your lips. "What do you think of that, baby?"

"Hah—I—"

He presses against your g-spot again, making it hard to speak. "Hm?" He isn’t expecting an answer, just watching your body contort in pleasure. "Want Daddy to take care of this pussy all day, don't you?"

"Ye-Yeah," you whimper out, hips shifting.

"Maybe one of these days, Daddy still has to make money to take care of you," he mumbles, eyeing your clit. “But, let me give her a kiss. Know she missed me the most.”

Your breath catches in your throat when his mouth latches onto your clit, sucking the pearl—his crowned jewel—into his mouth. His grip on your thighs tighten and his cocks throbs in tandem with the pulsing of your cunt as he continues curling his fingers against your g spot. He doesn’t care how loud you moan or how fidgety you are, undeterred from his make out session with your cute little clit. Oh, how much he missed her.

It's impossible to part with someone you've missed when you see them. He only raises momentarily to let his tongue lap at the wetness enveloping his fingers before he’s back on your clit, alternating between hard and soft sucks.

Every moan of his that vibrates against your clit brings the band holding your orgasm closer and closer to snapping. He presses one hand against your stomach, applying more pressure while he sucks your clit harshly, peering up at you as he does. “Come on,” he urges. “Wanna taste more of her, come for me baby. Give it all to me.”

“F-Fuckkk.” Listening to Higuruma’s demands should be one of the ten commandments. His words make you release instantly, catapulting to a plane of pure ecstasy as your walls clamp down around his fingers erratically.

He slowly pulls them out, slurping at the string of wetness that connects his fingers to your cunt. Next he laps up your cum, shamelessly moaning. “Fuck.” He looks down at his cock, desperately straining against his slacks. “I think there’s a little bit more I can do to show how much I missed her,” he says, undoing the button on his slacks. “Let me show you baby.”

Your chest is still heaving from your orgasm, but you lay on your back on the couch as Higuruma swiftly undresses, his slacks, blazer, dress shirt and boxer briefs in a haphazard pile on the floor.

He lays on top of you, lifting up the fabric of your shirt to suck one of your nipples into his mouth. The peak stiffens and you can’t help but moan as his hot tongue swirls around the bud. He kisses the space in between your breasts as his mouth gives your other nipple the same treatment, never one to miss pleasuring every part of your body. As his teeth gently bite down on your nipple, his hand is guiding his stiff cock to your entrance, tip rubbing against your swollen bud.

“Oh.” You writhe beneath him at the combined sensations, the light pain of his teeth along with the overstimulation of your clit, but it’s good, so.good.

“I know, I know baby,” he mumbles, voice muffled. “Need to feel her…”

You nod, desperate to be stretched and filled with his cock, the only one you think about and crave.

He lets the head of his cock brush against your clit again, letting his precome smear over it before he goes down to your slit, a grunt leaving his lips as he makes his way inside.

And how could he forget to mention the feel of your cunt in his earlier soliloquy. It’s tightness, its warmth, the way your walls have molded to take every single inch of him. Like a hot bubble bath after a demanding day, a cup of hot cocoa on the coldest day of the year, a sweater embroidered with his name on it, he finds comfort and ease when he’s buried deep inside of you.

The soft hairs on his chest brush against your breasts as he lets his weight settle on top of you, hips pressed together as the last inch of his heavy cock finds its home in your warm walls. His cock pulses as you clamp, a practiced song and dance as your arms snake around his neck and your legs wrap around his waist.

You’re always so warm, lighting up Higuruma from the inside out. The only thing that’s cold is the band of the engagement ring on your finger on the back of his neck, but that iciness is as sweet as ice cream; a reminder that you belong to each other, an alignment of affection and mingling of souls.

“Hiromi,” you pant against his lips, grinding your hips against him.

“Just give me a minute,” he murmurs, forehead resting against yours as his cock throbs again. “God, wish I could just stay like this all day with you.”

Your chest heaves against his as you urge his head closer to yours, capturing his lips in a kiss. The exchange of spit as your tongues slide against each other is amorous as ever, his hand moving up to gently caress the side of your face as the kiss grows more intense.

He starts to move, hips retracting and plunging into you while your lips are still connected. Each thrust is deep, reaching that spot inside of you that makes your legs tremor. But you still cling to him, insistent on having him as close to you as possible.

“God, she’s always sucking me in,” he grits out as his hips drive forward again. It’s a particularly deep thrust, one where you swear you feel every ridge and vein of his thick cock. Yet, it feels so natural, like your body was made just for him to blissfully invade with his girth. “So perfect, so fucking perfect,” he pants out, daring to press his hips evern closer even though he’s already buried to the hilt inside of you. “And she’s mine, you’re mine.”

His lips find yours again as you whine, moaning into his mouth as he continues to roll his hips into you, filling you tenderly with his devotion.

“Oh—ah—”

“Stay with me, baby.” His thumb grazes the apple of your cheeks as your eyes start to flutter close in the same fashion that your cunt starts to quiver around him. “Need to see that pretty face when you come, please.”

Even with the pleasure threatening to drown you, Higuruma is the lifevest that always keeps you bobbing on the surface. “That’s it,” he says. “Good girl, you’re so close.” He pushes in slowly, feeling his own cock throbbing, imminent release on the horizon. “Fuck.” His hips draw back and roll forward languidly, the sounds of your collective pants and your cunt squelching roaring in his ears.

“Hi—Hiromi—I—”

“Let me have it.” He rocks into you a final time, a rough thrust that makes your eyes widen, the barest color of your eyes visible around your pupils as you come around him. The far off twinkling stars in your vision are no match for Higuruma’s face that you stay focused on through your orgasm. He stays buried inside you, grunting as your cunt continues to spasm around him. “Did so good for me baby, fuck, I love you.”

“I love you too,” you answer back breathless, willing your shaky legs to stay wrapped around him. “Wanna feel you too,” you mewl.

“Yeah,” he whispers, speeding up his motions, fucking you into an overstimulated state. “Gonna give you all of me, just—fuck.”

His lips crash against yours as he fills you with the torrents of his passion, a stream of white that coats the lining of your walls. His cock twitches as he empties into you, swallowing your moans with his mouth as his pelvis melds with yours.

Once your lips part his body stays on top of yours like a weighted blanket, providing you with all of the security and comfort that you could possibly need.

“Hiromi,” you say softly, face flushed, post orgasmic bliss glazing your eyes over. “I need to finish dinner.”

“We can order out,” he answers, burying his face into your neck. Even as his cum starts to leak out, making both of your skin sticky, he keeps his cock lodged in your softness. “Just need to stay with her a little longer.”

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etherealsworldvision · 2 months

Text

Singles Love Reading

Before I begin the reading I’d like to take a moment to talk about “Care for Gaza” a non-profit charity aid on Twitter (now known as X) who are helping families in need. If you have the funds here are their PayPal and GoFundMe.

🚨 P.S.A 🚨 : I do not give personal readings!

Note : I’m going to give you a heads up…this ended up being a LOVE reading and not a SINGLES reading lol. I guess we are not feeling the romance tonight lol. Okay look — I DID ask for romance stuff and this is what I got so I hope you enjoy it still.

[ general message: saw 222 as I was making the layout so this number might be significant. I believe the numerology meaning is: balance, harmony, spiritual alignment. You can condense it to 6 which would mean: domestic happiness, harmony, and stability. Rain. Autumn/Winter season. Airplanes. 123 ]

Pile 1

[ channeled message: “because I’m tired of being the only one playing by the rules, the world is unfair […] maybe it’s okay if it’s unfair in our favor for once” – Craig from Killing It. ‘Called it love but it was lust’, ‘It wasn’t love like I had hoped’. ‘maybe another time,’ ‘love is a complexity’. ‘If love can fade so can pain’. ‘Let your cup overflow with the love you deserve’.

Additional Confirmation: Seashells. Becoming a Sea Jelly. Prickly. Becoming a Porcupine. Sea and the Earth. Poetry. Disturbance. ]

Cards: 7 of wands (Reverse); Hierophant (Reverse); 9 of Wands. Snail; White Dress; Queen of Hearts; 8 of Hearts.

First thing’s first…this is a complex reading. This is going to be a different type of love reading. I’m sorry if you’re looking for a ‘who is coming in’ but if you still want to stay then please do. This reading does have romantic undertones but it will dives into love.

When I started this reading: I felt like I needed to protect myself — bolt all the doors, close all the windows, triple check the dozens of cameras around the house, and secure myself by hiding under the bed with a blanket wrapped around me.

There’s this profound grief/sadness/yearning/loneliness all meshed together in a box. I think this is your energy because I’m not getting another person. I could be wrong though. But the overall energy feels like the saying “the world/love hasn’t been too kind to you.”

I’m not going to sit here and tell you how to feel. Your feelings are 100% valid because for some reason people probably told you how to feel which made things worse. Honestly all I can give is a virtual hug.

Honestly maybe you’ll find love in this reading [not romantic wise! I meant like a little bit of softness for your day. Idk maybe I’m rambling]. It just feels like you need a blanket and a warm cup of your favorite drink. Some of you might like apple cider with extra cinnamon. Maybe a nice cup of coffee or (ginger) tea with some sugar. Or it’s not physical warmth you’re after but, just this once, inner warmth.

This emptiness you have isn’t something to be taking lightly, that is for sure. It should be held with recognition and upmost delicacy. You aren’t difficult to be loved.

Some of you know this while others may find difficult: you are deserving of love. Some of you are probably groaning and rolling your eyes. I wanted to say it again just in case. I’m also sending you lots of love and support.

You know what, why should I stop there? You’re deserving of people putting effort into you, of understanding, of consistency, of acceptance, of things to be taken at a slower pace. You deserve a love that is supposed to feel like your favorite drink or food. I think, most importantly, you deserve the recognition.

If you can find a healthy outlet please do. I know this reading is probably chaotic but I think it’s supposed to validate how you feel. There was another that came in but it was a bit of blur so I think that’s a sign to leave this reading as is. I’m rooting for you pile 1 and sending many hugs with a lot of love! 💕

Pile 2

[ Channeled Messages: ‘We never realize how frozen we are until someone melts our ice’ ; ‘We know what we are, but not what we may be’ ; ‘Don’t waste a second of your time convincing other people your worth’.

Additional Messages: 111, Broseph (Character from Stoked), Bravery, Strength, Talk, Valentines Day, Take a Break, Focusing on Materialism, Beach Vibes; H2O; Putting in the Work, Babes by Hockey Dad, Safe and Sound by Mr. Floyd Larry, Fire Placements, Sagittarius]

Cards: 9 of Wands; 8 of Cups (Rx); The Chariot. Transformation (Yumiko Kurahashi); The Soul (Emily Dickinson. Jack of Clubs; 8 of Clubs; 7 of Clubs

Pile 2’s, I have to tell you something: I restarted the reading. I reshuffled all the cards and took a ‘day off’ cause my tummy hurts :( and I wanted a break. I don’t know why I had to mention that but…hey, maybe you need a break for the ache?

On with the reading! For those of you who did or are taking a break from love, you’re taking the cool ~ approach. Now this isn’t a mind game approach. I genuinely feel like it’s because you ‘moved on’ from love. You’re just tired of the same ol’ people coming into your life and making you stressed.

I get the feeling you’re taking the ‘Broseph’ (Character from Stoked) approach. If you know him, you know that he’s very chill and laidback. He lets the waves come to him and living life in a relaxing fun way. This could be the way you’re viewing love now.

For some of you I heard “love/dating pool is shit, I’m going to do what I want’, which CONGRATS! You live your life, I’m very proud of you. You may also be taking a funny approach to your love life. I just get the vibe that: ‘love isn’t so serious anymore so might as well make the best of it by taking it lightly’.

Despite these approaches you’re also more selective and will put a boundary up. Again congrats to you! You’re at the point of, again, enjoying your life. I’m also getting a sense you’re putting more emphasis in your friendships. This is going to be a little deep.

For some of you, you may find the love you were missing within yourself through friendships/community. As in, the romantic love you thought would ‘fill’ the hole is not it. It was actually platonic/communal love that you craved. For other’s the love for yourself due to, soul searching’, basically rediscovering yourself.

Overall this is mainly due to people, mostly romantic, not being compatible with you. Like I have a feeling — during the summer time there will be in-depth soul searching. No, it’s not the ‘hippie’ type thing! Unless it could be we never know lol, it’s actually more of transformation of the old you. You’re entering a new part in your life.

Okay this is specific. I don’t know what Valentine’s Day did for you all but for some reason I think their gift to you made you realize ‘yeah…I’m breaking up with you’. Now this isn’t to scare anyone! This is like a 0.1% of you. I just feel like this could be how 0.1% of you will ‘entire’ this transformation.

To recap; despite the way you were treated and the people who were in your life. You’re now rediscovering yourself, your worth, questioning and finding the love you needed. You’re still open to love (in general) but more selective with the people. You’re now or will be letting love find you. Again you’re taking the Broseph approach lol. Have fun and good luck, I’m very proud of my pile 2’s :) 💕.

Pile 3

[ Channeled Messages: ‘If soulmates do exist they’re not found. They are made. People meet, they get a good feeling, and they work on building a relationship’ ; Release your mind, don’t become the hurt that they hurt you’ ; ‘Picture a wave. In the ocean. You can see it, measure it, its height, the way the sunlight refracts when it passes through. And it's there. And you can see it, you know what it is. It's a wave. And then it crashes in the shore and it's gone. But the water is still there. The wave was just a different way for the water to be, for a little while. You know it's one conception of death for Buddhists: the wave returns to the ocean, where it came from and where it's supposed to be.’

Additional Messages: 222, 232, 234, Cat, Curiosity, Watch Your Mouth by The Backseat Lovers; Cold Hands; Burning Candle, Wedding Fantasies, Prayer Beads; Traditions; Selenite; Blue Calcite; Rivers and Roads by the Head and the Hearts; ‘Might Have Been The One Vibe’, The Good Place. ]

Cards: Page of Swords; Empress (Rx); Tower. Ace of Diamonds; 10 of Spades; Ace of Clubs. White Dress; Devotion.

Pile 3, I want to say I’m so sorry for what you went through. There’s a sense of heartache and devastation that recently happened. I heard you might have gotten a call or this sudden new broke your heart. A part of you may felt drawn to pile 1 so if you did then please check that out.

My cat also wants to say hello. She’s actually hanging out with your cards. A message popped up in my head: you are protected. I also want to add that your pile is a long read.

For a lot of you I feel that this is devastating. You may have spent all this time nourishing, putting the effort, and pouring your love into something that wasn’t ’worth it at the end’.

For some, not all, I don’t like to bring this up and be this type of reader…but the news may have been about cheating. As for the others the relationship could have ended because of a huge dealbreaker; like traveling or different values. There could have even been a conversation about money that led to an argument.

Either way, there was a sudden break(up) and now there is grief. I’m not getting so much as to how to help. I think this reading is more about acknowledging your grief and a reminder that you will find like minded people.

Another thing; you may feel anger as well. It’s like a simmered anger. It’s there but simmering…it’s hot yet it constantly murmurs. It feels as if it could be towards everyone. For some it may even be towards the world. But for all it feels as if this anger is directed to yourself.

Okay there’s a big select of you that might have been in a long term relationship. I’ve been tiptoeing around this but it feels like you were so close and then this happened, and now what the fuck, right? Basically the rug was ripped from under you. It just feels like sudden devastation.

I’m not going to feed into your anger and your grief. I am certainly not going to bypass this either by singing Kumbaya and lighting up an incense.

Instead, let’s acknowledge this. You may be feeling angry, scared, all of the grieving symptoms. That is okay! This is going to be hard to hear but grief doesn’t fade. It stays, it lingers, it’s there. The only thing we can do is feel it but do our best to not let grief consume us. We just have to take it day by day in little doses.

This may even be a reminder to pour in that love into yourself. No this isn’t some “self love heals all” type of thing. I believe [the right and healthy] community/friendships can help you out here, but let’s not forget to pour into ourselves too. This can be by creating a safe space for yourself. It could be doing things you always wanted to do. It can be gifting yourself something or simply journaling and crying it out with ice cream.

I also want to say the love you poured into that relationship is no waste. It’s proof that you are worthy of love, that you are capable of love. You are a reminder that the love you pour is out there. You have so much love to give and now it is time to give that love to yourself. It is also a reminder that this love can also be poured into you by your friends and community.

Another reminder, because it seems to be prominent, anger is a reminder of your boundaries. Anger reminds us what we fight for, what we need to feel protected. Anger is a boogieman to society, which can become it if not handled in a healthy way. However, Anger can be justice if you learn to dig deep at the root. This is all I have for you today. I wish you the best 💕

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jintaka-hane · 2 months

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Laundry in Kuraigana (Mihawk x f!reader)

Masterlist

Pairing: Dracule Mihawk x f!reader Summary: Living in Kuraigana comes with its own set of rules, and with a master as inflexible as Mihawk, they must be strictly adhered to. Frustrated by his lack of attention, you craft a plan to exact revenge through household chores. Word count: 600

Circumstances have brought you to call Kuraigana your home. And it appears you'll be staying there for quite some time until the situation you've found yourself in is resolved. It's been three months since you arrived and during this time, Mihawk has set up rules and a household routine, creating a semblance of family life with his apprentice swordsman, the ghost girl, and yourself.

Mihawk doesn't employ domestic staff in the castle, it would compromise his privacy, tranquility and security (already quite compromised considering the castle's new occupants). Therefore, you must organize yourselves very strictly following a schedule of tasks that he has assigned to each of you. Everything must be neat and tidy, nothing can be left for the next day, and unnecessary items must be discarded to avoid clutter.

Like everyone else, he must also contribute to maintaining the castle: the garden, the orchard, meal planning, cleaning the rooms, washing the dishes and cutlery... and doing the laundry.

Laundry is done three times a week. Once with black clothes, another with colored clothes, and another with white and light-colored clothes. Mihawk will not tolerate, under any circumstances, mixing colors or washing delicate fabrics like silk in a non-gentle cycle. Everything must be carefully planned and each week it's someone's turn, expected to separate the clothes by color, select the appropriate wash cycle, hang the clothes, and fold them, dividing them into four different piles, one for each owner. Each person will collect their own pile, clean and dry.

A few weeks after arriving at Kuraigana, you realized that you were starting to feel attracted to the castle's master. His fierce appearance and strength in combat contrasted with the delicacy and perfection with which he organized something as mundane as household chores.

Without daring to confess your attraction, you have been trying to be subtle, taking small steps like lightly brushing fingers when passing the salt, trying to hold his gaze for a few seconds longer than usual when you spoke, or making comments that you thought he might find amusing or intellectual. Nothing seems to work, always so serious, so stoic, completely focused on whatever task he was doing. It is hard to get his attention. Very hard.

For this reason, you begin to feel frustrated. Is this man simply too difficult? Or are you not attractive enough? In any case, this frustration turns into anger... until you devise a plan to teach him a lesson and get revenge.

Knowing that it is his turn to do the laundry this week, you select your most scandalous and provocative lingerie to place in the laundry basket.

And, to be honest, you have quite a collection.

So, you choose shameless bras of several colors and transparencies, daring black stockings and garters, suggestive thongs, and exciting lace bodysuits. If this man isn't willing to pay attention to you, he will realize what he could have had and didn't. The opportunity he missed.

Throughout the week, you watch as your clothes appear hanging in the sun in the garden, alongside those of Mihawk, Zoro, and Perona. Thus, next to a pair of training pants, a simple white shirt and some socks, there is a sultry red lace bodysuit with transparencies.

As your clothes dry, they appear in your pile carefully folded, smelling clean and ready for you to pick up.

"Don't you think Mihawk is more grumpy than usual?" Perona asks one night, watching as Mihawk tries to concentrate on reading a newspaper, with a furrowed brow.

"Grumpy and... distracted?" Zoro asks, also observing him from afar.

"Yeah? I wonder why," you smile.

Alternative ending I

Alternative ending II

#dracule mihawk #mihawk #mihawk x reader #dracule mihawk x reader #dracule mihawk fanfic #dracule mihawk fanfiction #one piece mihawk #roronoa zoro #zoro #perona #ghost princess perona #jintaka stuff

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