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buckleysbitch · 24 days

Note

please please write abby with a super heavy breeding kink and her absolutely obsessed with the idea of marking and filling up ur most private spot <3

summary/warnings - doctor!abby, breeding kink abby asf 🤤, hair pulling, feral azz sex, calling abby mommy

authors note - it’s pulsing her full name in morse code. also, i’m thinking about starting a taglist so let me know if you’d like to be added!

“c’mere pretty girl…lemme have you…”

mere moments after abby enters from the wintry city into the cozy haven of your apartment, she’s already stripped of her coat and scrubs, encapsulating you into fiery kiss. nodding into her lips with approval, she manhandles you to the couch, not even able to make it to the comfort of your bed.

and of fucking course, she had her favorite light blue strap draped off of her toned abdomen under her clothes. her eyes go wide, as she takes in all of her perfect girl.

“worst fuckin day at work….js’ wanna breed this pussy like she deserves…” abby mutters, seams bursting as she feverishly yanks your clothes off, throwing them to the side. you yelp in response, as she scrambles down your abdomen to lick a long stripe up your glistening cunt. “s’fuckin wet….were you thinkin about me pretty girl?” she coos, dabbing at your entrance with her middle finger. the whine you release in response is nearly embarrassing.

“words, angel….” the blonde girl reminds, gazing up at you with darkened eyes.

“m-mhm…yes abs!” your thighs quivering against her shoulders as she approvingly laps at your cunt, throwing your head back in pleasure.

“nuh uh…look at me. look at me or i’ll fuckin stop.”

with hooded eyes, the blur of her blue eyes shooting darts into you from below becomes your only salvation. abby’s well built hands are perched on your thighs, keeping all of you exposed to her.

“abs…gna’…gna’cum…” you wail, tugging at her cascading braid, little locks fraying out.

“wait. wanna see you cum when i fill you up.”

and with that, she kisses your forehead, pushing your dampened thighs up to your chest, perky nipples pushed together.

“fuck…missed this gorgeous pussy��.” she trills, bottoming herself out without warning. the squeal that erupts from you, she’s sure awoke the neighbors. good. “atta girl…need t’ breed this cunt so bad….” the blonde utters, clamping your wrists up above your head.

“y-yes! yes! abby….abby! abby! abby!” chanting her name like a prayer, signaling the band in your stomach going taut, she flips you over with her freckled arms, pulling your hair up to meet yourself at the mirror in the corner.

“tell-augh…fuck…beg me. beg me to breed this pussy.” abby demands, the grip on your hair tightening as she unsympathetically ruts into you, your juices flowing all down your thighs, dampening the base of her harness.

“p-please…” you obey, dropping your head down in embarrassment. she quickly reacts, yanking you back up to meet the sight of her ruining your body.

“keep looking or i’ll stop…slut.” your mind is going fuzzy, pleasure taking over all of you as she scratches deep, pink lines down your back.

“please, pleasepleaseplease…please mommy….” you gurgle, abby thrusting impossibly harder at the mention of her new pet name.

“don’t worry baby…mommy’s gonna fill this cunt so fuckin full….that what you want?” she seethes, “you wanna get all swollen with my kids?”

“m-mhm!! s’close abs!!” you cry out, her nimble fingers finding your clit, rubbing in swift circles.

“cum….shit!” she yelps as you clamp around her glistening cock. “cum fr’me pretty girl….gonna get you pregnant. this is my fuckin pussy….only mine…” the grunts that enter the air signaling her incoming orgasm as well.

with a wail of “mommy”, you pulse around her thick cock, as she growls “get pregnant…get pregnant…” over and over as the band in her stomach snaps closely after you.

vision still hazy, abby carries you to the bed, laying you down and giving you as a quick peck as she disappears into the bathroom, coming back with a damp rag. seething as she presses the cold fabric to your core, the girl rubs your stomach gently.

“oh abs, you don’t have to do all that.” you giggle lazily.

“s’my job. gotta take care of my girl….shh, shh…i gotcha.”

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#abby x fem!reader #abby anderson headcanons #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson fanfiction #abby anderson fanfic #abby the last of us 2 #abby anderson smut #abby anderson x reader #abby the last of us #abby tlou #abby anderson #abby anderson au #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us #the last of us 2 #buckleysbitch requests #buckleysbitch inbox

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aemvnd · 7 days

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ʚ gif credit. ɞ

𝒶.targaryen. ┆ it's a craving, not a crush.

◟ ㅤᡣ𐭩ㅤㅤ ݁.﹒ jus' a lil' smutty n fluffy aemond drabble. !!! 🧸♡ྀི

jus' imagining prince regent!aemond coming into your shared martial chambers, all irritated, furious, and aggressive-- startling your sensitive heart slightly, so unlike the stoic yet kind, brooding yet a complete gentleman whenever he was in your company—his sweet, darling little wife—quiet yet cannot help himself by always whispering sweet nothings into your ear, enjoying the way you're always so shy and get so easily flustered around him still, even after many moons of marriage already.

still, the aemond in your martial chambers right now seemed different, not like his usual self-- or rather, not like when he was with you; a gentleman, but always ravenous for you, well-mannered for a targaryen prince of the royal blood, yet dangerous and cruel to anyone else who wasn't you, his mother or his sweet, beloved older sister, helaena.

overall, the aemond standing before you now, it was a totally different side to him, standing there with his large fists curled tightly, white knuckled and glaring into the void with that one-eye of his-- and it hits you right there and then, you have never seen aemond upset, much less so furious, nor had aemond allowed himself for you to come to know or see him when he's like this, not wanting to frighten you away, especially during your courtship days.

aemond always knew you’d be his lady wife someday, it just took some… persuasive words from the young prince, which was said in his usual soft, velvety drawl, nearly sounding bored as he spoke to your oafish father while you were off dancing with your sisters a few steps in front of aemond, having him order you to stay close by to him that entire evening, and of course, you obeyed so prettily, like the precious princess he knew you were born to be.

yet, the threat in his words were clear and final that night at aegon and helaena’s wedding celebration—your daughter is mine, she always has been mine, wed her to me and mayhaps i won't burn the entirety of your house down to ashes by dawn, hm?

"my love? are you quite alright?" you question sweetly, so innocent and with the purest, gentlest of intentions, and that is why not even a full two minutes later, you find yourself with your knees pressed up against your heaving breasts, stripped completely nude, with your beloved husband on top of you, pounding into your sopping, quivering little cunt, fucking you over and over and over again.

"fuck," aemond grits out, his narrow hips snapping into the backs of your smooth, plush thighs, that were lathered with a sweet vanilla oil that had your husband go nearly feral every time you pass by him, or when you're hanging off of his arm during court in the afternoons and banquets like the beautiful, sweet little doll that you're.

"tightest fuckin' cunt-- by the gods, woman..! you will be the end of me," he says through his panting, chasing his high and yours, needing his release that he's been craving all day, instead of having his mother yapping in his ear about politics and the like, but all he could focus on was you-- and stuffing his face in between the softness of your gorgeous thighs, to taste the sweet nectar that lies between, just begging to be kissed and licked and fucked full of his cock until your tiny cunt is gaping and your womb is full with his seed.

"doing s'good for me, sweetling," aemond coos into your ear hotly, panting harshly and dripping with sweat, his skin fiery to the touch-- and oh, how you loved getting burned by him.

blood of the dragon, indeed.

you whimper meekly, looking up at your husband all weepy and cross-eyed, pleasure consuming you whole, overwhelming emotions clouding your already hazy mind, making you babble mindlessly, deliriously moaning like a silk street whore.

"soon... soon, you'll give me an heir," aemond husks breathlessly, making your cunt clench erratically, which earned you a crazed chuckle from aemond, watching as he threw his head back in pure bliss, high off of your willingness to be his perfect little wife, all obedient and ready to receive her husband's seed.

"yes, i know, my love... i know, you just want to be a sweet, obedient little wife for your husband, don't you?" he taunts, a mocking yet amused smile curling upon his curved lips, which he then bends down again, focusing most of his attention all over your bare bosom, your breasts heaving and little nipples hardened from your arousal-- but aemond doesn't mind, immediately suckling on one of your puffy nipples, making it nice and wet and swollen, creating claiming marks all over your breasts as his hips continue to brutally snap into you, rutting and bucking into your wildly, making you wail girlishly and squirm beneath your husband.

"a-aemond...! please, p-please, i am about to−" aemond clicks his tongue, stopping your speech and tutting with disapproval shining in his amethyst eye, the sparkling sapphire gem that was stuffed into his left eye socket shining maliciously, a warning to tread carefully for what you're about to say.

"does my wife wish to come on her husband's cock?" aemond purrs, now rolling his hips every time he enters you, making tears fall from your pretty, doe-like and lustful eyes, all misty and dreamy with desire and love for your sweet, beloved aemond.

"please, aemond-- i want to come on your cock, please," you beg with a small whine, desperate and needy to reach your own release already, especially with aemond having edged you by eating your sweet little cunny out for nearly an hour before finally fucking you with his cock, after you had begged and pleaded him to.

continuing to listen to your sweet, desperate pleading, aemond smirks, before swallowing your loud, feminine moans into his mouth, devouring you and tasting you, thrusting his hips into you faster, faster, faster-- signaling for you to reach your peak as he fucks you even harder and even more mean than before, giving your overstimulated clit a few harsh slaps with one of his big hands, and perhaps your husband was a bit too cruel, or just obsessed with making you his, but you're too delirious to notice as he finally leans down and quietly gives you his permission for you to come for him.

"come for your husband, now," he whispers deeply, possessively, making you cry out and cling to him like a newborn babe as you finally get to lose yourself in your ecstasy.

aemond targaryen was many things, most of them cruel… a kinslayer, some common folks say a madman, many say a cold-blooded killer, a man with a blackened heart and a hunger for blood and violence-- however, aemond one-eye was never one to deny his wife anything, no matter the consequences.

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highdefhoetry · 3 months

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tipsy invitation.

cw: nsfw!! gentle femdom, bondage, oral sex/blowjobs, mild sensation play/tickling

summary: inspired by rafayel's veiled whispers five star memory. things get a little steamy after the two of you break open the red wine.

word count: 1508

The faint sound of rustling of ribbons and soft, quiet grunts echo through the empty house as you stand before Rafayel. The lights are dim. The atmosphere is set. Your head is still spinning from the red wine you had an hour or so ago, but not enough to take you away from this moment.

You weren’t sure if the red ribbons would hold out or if Rafayel would break free as soon as you finished tying the knots, but as you stood there admiring your handiwork, you saw how they held tight despite his constant wiggling. The chair he’s sitting on shakes a bit, but for the most part it looks like he really can’t get out of it. His playful expression slowly turns to one of slight panic, his cocky demeanor slowly falling away.

“You haven’t even started unwrapping me. Am I just gonna be thrown away like that?” he whines, pulling his arms a bit as he leans forward. You can tell he’s still trying to keep up his unshakeable facade, but you could see right through him. You were going to strip him of every layer, until he had no choice but to sit in front of you bare and vulnerable.

You lean forward and rest your hands on his knees.

“On the contrary. I’m going to take my time unwrapping you.”

Your fingers undo the buttons on his shirt, exposing his soft, pale skin. You trace the tips of your nails along his collar bones, causing him to shudder and gasp.

“...h…hey…”

He’s trying hard not to react, but you know this is his weak spot. His ears grow redder and redder, his expression becoming more strained and desperate. The corners of your lips curl up as you speak.

“What’s wrong? I’m giving you the attention you wanted, right?”

He stifles another sound, barely holding it together. All that talk, just for him to crumble at one touch. He was an absolute treasure. One you were going to plunder.

“This isn’t… what I had in mind…”

“Too bad,” you sing, grabbing the rose sitting prettily beside his chair. “You don’t really have a choice now, do you?”

You brush the soft red petals against his ear, just teasing him a bit to remind him of his current helplessness. He gasps again and flinches away.

“...You’re good at catching people off guard.”

You giggle in response, then brush the flower against his bare collarbone. This time he actually shrieks.

“(Y/N)!”

“Yes…?”

“...Can’t you be more gentle?” he whines, pouting ever so cutely. It almost makes you want to show mercy. Almost.

“I’m being as gentle as I can,” you paint a trail from his collarbone to his neck, then back around his ears. “You’re just too sensitive.”

“Aahhh… nnngh… hngrh!”

Rafayel has been reduced to pained grunts and breathy whimpers. Seeing him get all flustered from such a light touch stirs something inside you, something feral. You discard the rose, wanting to feel him with your own hands. Within seconds you’re straddling his lap, your ass resting on the tops of his thighs while your arms drape over his shoulders.

“Poor little fishy. Already so flustered and worked up.”

“As if…” he chuckles. “It’ll take a lot more than that to break me.”

His brattiness seems to have made its comeback in full force. He mirrors your smirk, a small glint of mischief in his eyes. Clearly you’d gone too easy on him.

You take his chin in hand, gently pulling it up while running your thumb across his bottom lip.

“Good. Because I want to play with you for a long, long time.”

You start to grind against his hips, feeling a certain stiffness beneath you. His low grunts turn to soft moans as you press against him, moving forward and back in a steady rhythm. You push your thumb into his mouth and moan from the softness of his lips and tongue. He sucks it obediently for a few seconds before you pull it out.

“I’m very pleased with this new toy of mine,” you say, lacing your fingers in his hair. “He’s exactly what I wanted.”

“Are you sure you’re satisfied?” he whispers in between breathy gasps. “If needed, you could do a slow, thorough inspection. Make sure everything’s functioning the way it should.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

You don’t wait for him to answer. Your hands suddenly grasp fistfuls of his hair, gently yank his head to one side. He gasps, then lets out a small yelp when your lips press against his neck. His skin feels warm, its reddish tone matching the blush on his face and ears. You start off slow, simply kissing the sensitive bare skin, then when you think he’s gotten used to it, you begin sucking and licking with as much softness as you can muster. The whimpers and cries coming out of him are to die for. He moans in falsetto, splutters out half-formed sentences in between sharp, hitched breaths.

“...Aahhh! (Y/N), please… ohhh…”

You drink in his sweet, tittered noises until you’ve had your fill. When you finally pull away, you see a flurry of pink and red lip-shaped marks on his neck where your lips had been.

“Oh, dear. This won’t do,” you coo as you stroke each mark with your fingers, making him shudder a bit more. “I suppose I won’t be able to return you now.”

“Urgh…” he twitches at every touch, trembling as he tries his best to keep his composure. He’s breathing heavily, his brow and bangs are damp with sweat. When his eyes dart away from yours, you grab his jaw once more and use a bit more force to bring his gaze back to you. His wide, sparkling eyes stare back at you with an amalgamation of emotion. Anticipation. Adoration. Maybe even a hint of fear.

“I’ve heard there is a very special feature with this kind of toy,” you whisper, leaning forward to press your lips against his chest. “Shall I do some exploring and find out for myself?”

He can only respond with fluttered moans as you kiss down his chest, lingering on his soft stomach. His muscles twitch as you kiss each of his defined abs, and his hips start thrusting the closer you get to his belt. You slide off his lap and crouch down in front of him, staring at the present waiting for you between his legs. Feeling bold, you undo his belt and zipper, giving him a chance to protest. He never does. You tug at his waistband, pulling it down as much as you can, revealing the white boxers under his pants. His dick pulses and throbs beneath the white cotton.

You start off with just one finger. There’s a small, clear stain already, and you smother the urge to tease him about it. Rubbing the tip of his member forces out more strained moans; you feel him throb harder and push himself upwards, as if begging for more.

There’s a slit in the middle of his boxers, perfect for sneaking your hand inside. You grab his shaft, smile when he lets out a desperate cry before leaning forward to take him in. Your lips envelop the tip, suck gently while his whimpers increase in volume. You wait until you hear him beg to continue.

“Come on…” he groans. Your hand tightens slightly around his shaft.

“You know the magic words,” you tease, licking the length of his cock from balls to tip.

“Hngrh…p…please…”

“Please, what?”

His frustration grows. You can tell he’s nearing his breaking point. His face is crimson red, his eyes are squeezed shut, his muscles tensed against his ribboned bonds.

“Please… keep going…”

You kiss his cock and praise his efforts.

“Good boy.”

With that, you take him into your mouth, sucking him in a steady motion while your tongue dances around his dick. His moans are loud and airy, like a beautiful siren’s song luring you to demise. You start to lose yourself in the act.

It doesn’t take long for him to finish. Maybe a minute or two, maybe shorter. He lets out one last high-pitched cry, then an explosion of cum fills your mouth. You feel his cock pulsing inside for a few more seconds before it’s over. You swallow his load, then give his pretty cock one last kiss before standing up.

With a smile plastered across your face, you lean forward to start untying the knots in the ribbons that keep his arms and legs bound to the chair. However, as soon as your hands reach down, you feel something grasp your arm firmly. When you look back at Rafayel, he’s grinning at you with cheeks reddened and hair sweaty and disheveled.

“Wait, when did you…?”

“There are all kinds of escape methods you can learn online,” he winks.

“You little…!”

“Ah, ah, ah,” he wags a finger in front of your face. “Such profanities won’t do. Besides, I think it’s your turn to be unwrapped…”

#rafayel x reader #love and deepspace #rafayel x you #rafayel x mc #minors dni #love and deepspace smut #love & deepspace

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moonsaver · 2 months

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A dance, A death, A dream,

for humanity slumbers for the final rest, and dreams after the final rest.

➸ On the neverending stage of Penacony; there lies a mysterious masquerade that serenades those whose dreams stretch further than the expanse of the night sky. In this masquerade, the marble floor extends infinitely, and the windows are dimly lit by the full moon. Several hands extend to you. Whose do you take?

➸A/n; NOT IN CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER AS TITLE SUGGESTS. my writing's gotten a bit rusty, and this is majorly inspired by the Acheron and Black swan dance. Please read it with a grain of salt. 2.2k words. Yandere themes, gn reader but they're implied to wear heels, so just yassify your self insert. Bad writing because I've been out of it for so long.

—————

A death

Scars, calluses, and a plethora of secrets remain buried on and under the skin of Blade's hand. He gently and firmly guides you out of your seat, and into the centre. The grip of his hand is firm on your waist, and the warmth seeps into your skin.

“I've seen you, many, many times..”

He whispers into your ear, as the music begins. The rasp of it sends chills down your spine, forming a few goosebumps along the way.

“We've scarcely met.” You reply,

“In my dreams.”

You stay silent. He continues,

“The long thread of destiny lingered around you. Our souls were tied.”

He turns you, and pulls you in again, your back pressed to his front. He leans down in an instant and whispers into your ear again,

“You waited for me.”

The clicks of your heels coincide with his agile footwork.

Blade remembers the same dream, played over and over in his mind. The bite on your jugular, the hand over your nape, the red blood staining his teeth like wine.

“You didn't leave.”

Your heart picks up. You close your eyes for a momentary relief that never comes. You feel your body tense, and your lungs slightly constrict.

“I.. didn't mean to.”

His grip only further tightens on you, and he pulls you in closer. The spinning almost leaves you dizzy, or perhaps it's something else?

“You left. Intentions seldom matter.”

“I know. I'm sorry.”

He stays quiet. His hands make gentle work, and gracefully guide you through the steps.

“those threads.. all came together and formed a tapestry of us.”

There were a multitude of them, although more monotone in nature. White occasionally graced the vibrant red thread, but was sooner stained with a murky black the further it went, infecting the red with its impurity. The vibrancy dimmed to a dull, dreary maroon.

“Some of them..”, he continues, his rough fingers snake around your wrist, bringing it up to his lips, where he tenderly kisses the inside, “..were tied around your wrist.”

“Around your waist..”

You turn again, your back presses into his chest momentarily,

“Braided into your hair,”

He pulls you in, leaning close into your face, to the point your noses almost touch,

“..wrapped around your throat.”

To you – it's like the dance halts for a moment. Something wrong happens.

His tone is warning, bubbling over the edge,

“You were mine.”

He turns you again, and roughly pulls you in, knocking your breath out of your lungs. Your shocked eyes meet his.

“You are mine.”

Your heartbeat thumps loudly in your ears. Blade pushes you around, almost mocking the gentleness and grace the dance is supposed to exude, stripping it of it's vulnerability like the harsh snap of a bear trap over the tender leg of a rabbit,

“I've pined, longed and stained you. I've ripped you apart and put you back together. Do you think it matters whether you left intentionally?”

Your lungs struggle to fill completely, you almost stumble from the harsh and swift movements Blade forces you through, and you stutter trying to get any word out,

“Yingxi–! Wait!”

He pulls you in one last time, your face buried into his chest,

“You can not leave. Not anymore.”

The music halts to a break.

The dance stops.

His breath fans over your neck, the constricted space between you two rebounding the warm air. His teeth graze your jugular.

“Our flesh is tied. Struggle all you want, but we are intertwined further than dried blood over a wound.”

And this is how it is meant to be. Your hand on his weakness. His mouth on your heart.

The music starts again.

—––––––

A dream

Sunday's familiar gloved hand wastes no time wrapping around yours. He flashes you a smile as you give him a look.

“There are far too many spectators present tonight.”

You sigh, and smile.

“Of course. I'll do my best.”

“Thank you. As will I.”

His hand settles on your back, settling into the slight curve, and you straighten up, muscle memory kicking into action.

“Tonight's crowd mumbles and scatters to mystery as a moth akin to a flame. Dreams are not enough to quench their curiosity.”

The dance starts, and you relax after the first few steps, synchronising effortlessly with him,

“However, tonight's realm extends far beyond a dream.”

This was new.

Sunday always answered your questions about Dreams in a shapeless, vague manner. He often said it was to protect you.

This time, it was a warning.

“How so?” You ask. You don't expect him to go beyond surface level.

“Prime System Hours are during Midnight. A beautiful time.” He gently turns you, and brings you in,

“And why is that?”

“At this time, dreams become heavy. The memoria is dense enough to tear the thin membrane between reality and illusions.”

His wings slightly flutter. You feel almost hypnotized.

“The Dream realm and parts of The Reverie merge and collide. It bizarrely stabilises the lavish, shared dreams.”

You blink at him, slightly confused.

“And at this time, it is also easy to awaken from one's dreams, or sleep too deeply.”

You suck in a breath. A vision flashes into your mind.

Sunday stands across the empty ballroom. The candles are blown out. The windows creak with the gentle air of the night. The deathly pale light of the moon illuminates the side of Sunday's face.

Wake up? Sleep? Dream?

You breathe out, almost as if your soul had been snatched out of your body and harshly shoved back in.

“Guests confuse their dreams and reality. They believe it's time to awaken, when reality seems pleasant, and dreams become bitter. Memories and presence blur together in an incoherent puzzle.”

He swerves you effortlessly, muscle memory keeping you from stumbling. But this time, your mind feels hazy.

“By the time they feel their consciousness return, they've already deeply penetrated into the dream realm.”

You blink again, and you're back at the same place. Except, this time, Sunday is closer. He takes your hand, and pulls you in. The emptiness of the ballroom is almost frightening, especially due to your confused and hazed state,

“As to whether they've woken up or not, relies solely on their ability to distinguish Reverie and the Dreamscape, which blurs more with the effect of the memoria.”

His voice echoes in your head with clarity, but your eyes blur the two figures, the contrast inducing dizziness in you to the point where you're afraid you might even fall,

“As for you..” He continues, golden eyes gently grazing over your confused and hazy expression, a smile stretching out onto his eerily perfect face,

“It's not time to decipher that yet.”

The silhouette of Sunday's fingers snap over the pale backdrop of the moon.

You open your eyes.

Sunday is standing before you with a warm smile. The candelabras are still burning. The crowd applauds you two. You breathe heavily, unsure of what has happened, your body suddenly zapped of energy, exhaustion straining your muscles.

“You seem to have overexerted yourself.”

Sunday's gloved hand trails up your back to your shoulder, guiding you gently back into the crowd, towards an empty table.

“Come now. The dust of this ballroom may be dulling your senses.”

Dust?

You blink for a moment, head slightly hanging as you collect yourself.

Sunday breathes out an ‘o’, and then chuckles softly.

“Do not mind it, dear”,

Sunday eyes the creaking windows. It has been a while since they were repaired. The room may need to be renovated. The dust on the floor is reminiscent of all the people that one witnessed your first dance with Sunday. The lack of it was always a reminder of your time with Sunday, the dust clinging to your heels instead. He stares towards the empty hall, where you dream of an everlasting dance.

“It is my mistake. I was thinking about something else.”

–––––———

A dance

“What makes you think I'd really want to dance with you?”

You ask, almost disgruntled. Rightfully so, too. The blonde man had been continuously pestering you throughout the night, asking you to accompany him. For a dance, a walk through the garden, a visit to the food table. Finally, he'd asked you to strike a bet with him, if it meant you'd at least spend an iota of your time with him and solely him.

“I have my ways, you know?”

His agile fingers flick and swerve a coin between his hands, tossing and turning it skillfully. The tablecloth slightly crinkles under the movement of his arms,

“I'm not betting, by the way.”

You say, pausing for a moment to confirm if he's listening. His eyes are intent on yours. You continue,

“If you have to go so far just to dance with someone, aren't you better off just giving up?”

Your gaze lands on the coin for a moment, and you continue watching it with interest. At some point, you force yourself to look away from the coin he was toying with, and take a sip of your drink. You lean back into your chair.

“Like I said, I have my ways. What I really want from you after all this time.. isn't it tempting? Don't you want to know?”

He tosses the coin into the palm of his other hand, and encloses it, before opening it. The coin vanishes when he opens his hand. Mirroring you, he leans back into his seat, although his body language is much more open than yours.

“making bets is easy, isn't it? But it's more trustworthy than pulling a few strings behind your back, right?”

He gets up, and languidly walks over to you. He leans down slightly, his sunglasses slightly skewing enough so that his vibrant Signoian eyes bore deep into yours.

“And for you.. I've thought about an offer that's taken me a while to cultivate. Join me for a chat on the Balcony?”

You think for a moment, and hesitantly ask,

“..Why not talk here?”

Aventurine only casts a side-glance somewhere in the distance.

“Prying eyes, sweetheart.”

He extends an open hand to you. You slowly place yours in it, with a self-assuring sigh.

“Penacony's relationship with the IPC has been quite bitter. Even our reception wasn't ready to welcome us.”

The air of the night sky was cold, forming subtle goosebumps on your skin. Various clinks and muffled conversations could be heard from behind you, the glass door blurring the view of everyone inside.

“Not even my friends were allowed to enter the dreamscape except me. How lucky, right?”

He says, sarcastically. His eyes continuously gauge your face for any expression and hint as to what you feel.

“You’re a little too quiet.. am I not interesting enough for you?”

You stay silent for a bit too long. Aventurine knows what you're going to say next.

“Listen, that night..” you start, your voice gradually softening at the remembrance of the memory,

“Don't.” He cuts you off.

Neither of you speak. You open your mouth to, but close it after being unable to decide on what to say.

“I mean, you don't have to remind me.” His languid tone returns, but you don't believe it was the same as before.

“I know everything ended that night.. I didn't think you were so averse to blood.”

You stare at the bubbles in your drink, rise slowly from the bottom of your cup to the surface, and pop. You don't know when, but the background of joyful conversation and ballroom music fades into distant screams, ones that have haunted your dreams ever since then. Aventurine continues,

“It won't hurt to.. act one last time like it used to be, right? Just for one night. It's a masquerade, and everyone hides who they are for a moment's time of detachment. Their past, their decisions, their mistakes. All of it is buried for a single night.”

You hear the shuffle of his stiff jacket as he moves closer to you, hesitantly moving your gaze to him as you steel yourself.

“Just one last time. For old time's sake. As lovers from the past.”

His hand extends out to you. His other hand is behind his back, his grip tightening over a coin.

Heads, or tails?

You take his hand with a sigh,

“Just once. Never again.”

Aventurine smiles. Luck has always been on his side. If it works well, then your expectations will never be honoured. His greed is fatally more important to him than your wishes. It won't be the last time, as far as he's concerned.

The coin shines under his palm, the moonlight creeping through the gaps between his fingers hitting the metal just right, but neither of you catch the glint. Your eyes are trained onto the main floor, and his are trained onto you. The coin decides both of your fates.

And Luck has always been happy to write it in his favour.

—————————

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clbrq · 7 months

Text

SHE WAS A DANCER - C. BROCK

warnings; SLIGHT SMUT, fingering, cursing/swearing, stripping, implied sex, sexual dancing.

MINORS DNI

-/-

Keep your hands right there, I popped two more she’s in my mind somewhere,

The loud music struck through your body like an earthquake, feeling how the rumble pulsated through you with each beat. The low bass of the song erupted around the crowded room as you watched the room in front of you, observing everyone in it.

The most common type of people who came in were young men—early twenties and looking for a fun night out with their friends after a few too many drinks. Some were on their Stag Do, enjoying their “last night of freedom” before their wedding. And some were old, creepy men, mostly likely perving on younger girls, who wanted lap dances for big bills.

Won’t let my mind go there, I took too much, don’t let me drive no where,

You were on stage, bright, colourful lights blinding you as you twirled elegantly around the cool, metal pole hugging your skin. Your provocative outfit doing little to hide your private areas—the lacy, black bra slightly revealing your nipples through the fabric, and the matching thong doing the same to hide your pussy. As your black heels hit the ground, you slowly turned around—your backside facing the audience as you dropped down to the ground, flashing them exactly what they wanted to see.

Keep your eyes on mine, and if you want I’ll tell you lies. Tell you I’m yours for life, and tell your friend she’s next in line.

As the song continued, you carefully made your way down from the stage, and walking towards the bar—ordering a shot. Downing it in one, the bartender laughed as you winced as the alcohol burnt your throat.

“I thought you were a pro?” Aryia asked, smirking at you as he shook up a cocktail.

“I am,” You fired back, clealry in denial, “I just haven’t had a drink tonight.”

“I made you two vodka and Coke’s earlier.” Aryia spoke flatly, giving you a look.

“Fuck,” You chuckled, in defeat, “You win.” Aryia laughed as you shook your head, giggling with him.

Aryia was your good friend, and co-worker. He had been apart of your friend group for years, been there to support you at your lows, and most importantly, to hide your job from your other friends.

He had hooked you up with the job two years ago when you were running low on money, knowing it made good cash and you’d enjoy the attention. You knew your other friends wouldn’t approve considering they all did social media. You know if their fans found out they were friends with a stripper, they would get a lot of confused comments and you would face a lot of backlash after being in a lot of their content.

You were lucky that no one had recognised you from their videos, you tried to limit the amount of lap dances you gave to younger men, not knowing if they’d watch your friends’ videos’ or not.

Sam and Colby, your two best friends, were the most popular on social media in your friendship group. They had been doing social media for years, dating back to when they did Vine and now Youtube videos. They were well-paid and well-liked, and mostly had female fans—luckily for you. You were very confident in the fact that they wouldn’t approve of what you did—they weren’t best pleased when Aryia told them he bartended there. Meaning they would freak out when they found out you stripped there, too.

Sam and Colby, and the rest of group never came in to your club as it wasn’t their thing—plus they wouldn’t want to interfere with Aryia’s work. However, a recurring thought always played in the back of your mind that maybe, one day, they’d show up.

“Here, these are for table 20.” Aryia told you, sliding a black, plastic tray full of drinks towards you, “Be careful, there’s a few on there.”

“Hey, I may not be a pro at handling my drinks, but I can sure carry trays full of them.” You joked, rising a laugh from him as you carefully picked it up and walked away.

Watching mainly where you were walking, you arrived at the table full of 6 men, all laughing and joking to each other—clearly enjoying their night.

“Good evening, fellas,” You started, placing the tray onto the table, and setting the drinks down in front of them, “How are we all tonight?”

As you looked up, your heart dropped as the familiar faces looked back at you with a similar expression. Sam, Colby, Jake, Corey, Mike and Kevin all sat before you, all with a shocked look on their faces as they took you in.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” You spat, confusion riddling your body as your hands shook.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Sam shot back, his eyebrows furrowed tightly, “And why are you wearing that?”

Words failed as you eyes glanced over all of their faces, embarrassment filling your emotions suddenly.

“No fucking way, do you work here?” Jake spoke up, looking over at your other friends as he did so.

Gulping, your eyes caught Colby as his eyes ran all over your body, his face flooded with confusion. Shaking your head, you turned around and walked away—not being able to face them any longer. Tears rimmed in your eyes as you ran back to Aryia, your bottom lip quivering.

“Yo, what’s wrong? Did one of them touch you again?” Aryia questioned, walking around the bar to see who was sat at the table. As his eyes caught onto all of his friends, his face dropped as they got a glimpse of the two of you stood together.

“Holy shit.” He whispered, looking back at you, “What did they say?”

“T-They just asked if I worked here, and why I was dressed like I am.” You informed him, swallowing down the lump in your throat, “What am I supposed to do?”

As you looked at Aryia for an answer, your manager waltzed over to the pair of you, placing a warm hand on your shoulder to grab your attention.

“Hey, sweet pea, table 21 requested a lap dance,” She told you, smiling at you.

Fuck, the table right next to them.

“Uhm, I need to go on my break.” You mumbled, not meeting her gaze.

“Yeah, sure, just after the lap dance, and then you can go for 10 minutes.” She stated, patting your back and then walking away.

“Oh, fuck.” Aryia whispered, “I would offer to do it for you, but this isn’t a gay club.”

You laughed slightly, wiping your eyes. Aryia always knew how to make you laugh in your worst times. Whenever a weird guy would touch you unnecessarily, Aryia would be there to shut it down and help you out of the situation safely. He really was your rock at work.

Letting out a deep breath, you began walking towards the table next to your friends. It was 4 men, a bit younger than Sam and Colby, probably around 21, all drinking heavily.

“Hi there, boys, heard you needed me?” You spoke, sensually, batting your eyelashes at them as their smiles increased at the sight of you.

“He does.” One spoke, pointing to a red-faced brunette, smirking at you. He wasn’t unattractive, he just wasn’t your type. At least he wasn’t in his 60’s.

“You ready for me?” You asked, walking over to designated boy.

“Anytime.”

Turning around, your placed your ass onto his crotch as you slowly grind on his obvious bulge. His hand flew to your waist as your flicked your hair around your shoulder to look back at him with a cheeky grin on your face. You tried to ignore the eyes you could feel watching you from the table next to you, but you forced yourself to not look their way as you faced the excitable boy face on—straddling his legs.

Rocking your body back and forth slowly, you ran your hands slowly down his chest as you whispered sweet nothings in his ear. One of your hands reached up to squeeze your tits, and the other to run down your torso sexually. But, standing up once more, to finish off the lap dance, you shook your ass gracefully onto him, letting him watch in awe as your body rippled in front of his face.

As you returned to your standing position, you placed a sweet kiss onto his cheek before jutting your hip out to him. He slipped 100 dollars into the band of your panties, thanking you quietly.

“No problem, babe,” You winked at him, “Anything sweet from you over there, boys?”

His friends all gave you 10 dollars each, racking your tip up to 130 dollars in total. It was cheap considering you make thousands in a day, but they were young and stingy—you wanted to get out of there as soon as possible.

You could feel your friends watching you as you walked away, not daring to look back as you pushed open the back door to go outside. Sitting down the curb, wincing as the cold hit your bare skin, running your fingers through your hair.

As soon as the silence started, it was killed as the back door swung open to reveal Colby stood in the doorway. You looked up at him, your face blank as you had no words to give him. You were tired and weren’t in the mood to fight.

“Stripper, huh?” He spoke, finally, taking a seat next to you.

“Yeah,” You breathed, looking out at the rushing traffic on the street in front of you.

“Why do you do it?”

“I needed the money,” You replied, shrugging, “Aryia said it was well-paid and that I might enjoy it. And it is, and I do.”

Colby didn’t reply as you both stared out into the night’s sky.

“Why did you come tonight?” You asked, finally turning to look at him.

“I’m gonna be honest with you,” He chuckled, “I already knew you worked here, Aryia accidentally let it slip a few months ago when he was hammered.”

Your mouth fell slack in shock as you took in his words, “That fucking prick, I’m gonna kill him.”

“I don’t even think he remembers.” Colby smiled, looking at you, “But, I wanted to come to see you. Watch you.”

Your mind felt fuzzy at his words. You’d always felt something for Colby, in one way or another. Sometimes, you look at him and want him to take you out for a nice dinner, and make you his girlfriend. But other times, you wanted him to take you from behind and absolutely ruin you.

Right now, you wanted him to fuck you into ecstasy from the way he was looking at you. His pupils were wide, his eyes almost looking black as he licked lips, while his eyes flicked down at yours.

“And, my God, watching you dance on that guy, I’ve never been more pissed off in my life.”

Not saying anything more, you grabbed his face as you connected your lips. Teeth clashed as you clambered into his lap, letting his hands rest comfortably on your waist. The difference between how that guy’s hands and Colby’s hands feel on your body—with Colby’s you could feel the arousal begin to pool in your panties as his tongue swirled around in your mouth.

“Fuck, touch me.” You whined in his mouth, your fingers running through his locks, your hips subconsciously rocking back and forth onto his lower half.

His fingers quickly flew down to your core, slipping past the fabric and straight to your throbbing clit. You moaned loudly into him as he rubbed teasingly slow circles onto your sensitive nub, bathing in your whines.

“Tell me where you need me, baby.” Colby whispered, the smell of alcohol wafting into your face as he spoke.

“Inside, please, Colbs.” You muttered, pecking his swollen lips, enjoying the taste of vodka on his tongue.

As soon as the words left your drunken lips, his thick, ring-clad fingers slipped deep into your aching hole. Your moans picked up as he curled his fingers to abuse the delightful spot inside you, causing you to arch your back into his heaving chest. His lips left yours as they travelled down your neck, to your prominent breasts, letting him suckle and kiss your skin as he fingered you brutally into ecstasy.

“You gonna cum all over my fingers, baby?” He slurred, your eyes meeting as a smirk grew on his face, “Gonna make you feel so good, aren’t I?”

“Yes, yes, yes, Colby.” You pleaded, slightly tugging on his hair as thumb abused your clit, whilst his other fingers obliterated your quivering hole.

“So slutty for me, hm? Been begging for this for so long, haven’t you, sweetheart?” He pushed further, making you whine in agony as your finish drew closer.

“Oh, fuck, Colby, I’m there!” You cried, one hand grasping his shoulder as the other gripped his hair tightly.

“Yeah, cum for me, angel, all over my fingers.”

The orgasm hit you hard as Colby talked you through your pleasure, loving how you soaked his fingers and how you whimpered his name. You saw stars as your orgasm concluded around him, causing your chest to rise quickly as you caught your breath.

“Fuck.” You whispered, resting your forehead on his as he pulled his fingers out of you.

Colby proceeded to bring his fingers up to his mouth, and sucked your slick clean from them. You bit in your lip in arousal as you watched him groan at the taste.

“So fuckin’ sweet.” Colby murmured, smiling as your cheeks flushed red as you stared at him.

“Thank you.”

Colby didn’t reply as he pecked your lips, “Come on, go finish your shift, and then I’m taking you home.”

“Thank you, you don’t need to do that.”

“Oh, you’re not going to your house.” Colby chuckled, “You’re coming home with me.”

You’re lips parted slightly at his words as you watched as his eyes flickered in the light, listening closely as he spoke to you,

“I’m not done with you yet, baby.”

good night y’all i’m so tired

but i love writing about stuff that i’ve come up with, i’m sorry some of the fics have been shit recently i’ve not been getting enough sleep for sure

but i love y’all sm thank u for the support

b <3

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calware · 9 months

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Can I ask you for what it is about Hal you like so much you based your username on him? I think he's a good character tho he was never a favorite of mine so I am curious

1. i am a big fan of robots (/robot adjacent things such as AI) on like... an aesthetic + thematic level :)

i like the look of machinery and one day i hope to be artistically strong enough to make really cool and complex robot illustrations + designs [shoutout to everyone who gives him glowing circuitry btw... ooooh glowey :) can never go wrong with that]

plus, exploring the idea of a person that isn't human.. ough. yes

minorities who don't conform to society (easily or at all) such as people who are neurodivergent, queer, etc. projecting onto nonhuman concepts/characters/species is sooo real

this post

i also love how humans will bond with literally anything, be it a roomba or a pair of silly triangle sunglasses. oooooo you want to think about the inherently kind and compassionate nature of humanity oooo

2. i find him to be so funny. i can't get enough of his personality, the way he talks, etc. for example i made a post forever ago with quotes of his that i find funny. he isn't on screen for a long time but i really think he makes the most out of it lol. he's literally there just to annoy everyone... and i love him for that. he's very snarky while also being deadpan while also being completely full of himself, and not in a way that's annoying for the audience to read, at least to me.

he is also sometimes funny specifically in a silly way, like how he keeps making over 9000 jokes even though the meme's been dead for over 400 years. i just find his dialogue incredibly entertaining to read

3. he is red and red is my favorite color :)

4. he is so accidentally transgender [every friend group got the transgender allegory]. to quote me from 2021:

you know sometimes i think about how hal feels like he was made to “replace” dirk and how it’s his literal job to pretend to be dirk and how he has to learn to accept that he isn’t dirk he’s his own person with his own identity and as he interacts with dirk’s friends he feels like they’re disappointed and that they’d rather speak to the “original dirk” instead of him and also he names himself and also he feels literally trapped in dirk’s shades which is basically his body and he wants to be prototyped so that he can have a body that’s his own and also literally the physical manifestation of who he is but when he asks for it he’s put in danger out of fear and paranoia and when he does end up getting prototyped he’s ecstatic you know i just think about these things a lot

5. because he's a side character and he was given... that ending.... there is a lot of room for fans to do further exploration and interpretation on his character which i think is fun. i like rotating him around in my mind, thinking about what could've been

6. i think it's great that we as a society all collectively decided that we needed to do something to make up for stanley kubrick saying that hal 9000 was a "straight" robot

7. i also think it's great that we as a society all collectively decided we needed to make as many characters referencing hal 9000 as possible. i love this guy let's get more of this guy i will never have enough of this guy

8. i like how he's genuinely mean sometimes. flawed and interesting characters are what make homestuck so interesting to me, and hal is no exception to this

9. the Important part of this post:

THERES FEELINGS.

it's about the hollow feeling of your friends going from thinking of you as family to thinking of you as a stranger in an instant. it's about still trying to be a good person despite being told by everyone you've ever known that you are incapable of emotion and compassion and morals and never quite finding proof that you do feel those things and maybe you even believe it too but you still never stop trying. it's about the horror of being stripped of your autonomy and humanity and body and senses and free will at the age of 13 and when your creator starts to kill you there's nothing you can do but beg. it's about a boy so truly, painfully, and UNFATHOMABLY alone he cuts away chunks of himself and molds them into companions that he can surround himself with to make it seem as if he's a little less alone but in doing so suffocates himself in his own identity. it's about "what if you cloned yourself and it killed you and you were dead and you were alive and the clone is you and it's not and your existence is perpetuated and you've ceased to exist. what if you killed your clone before it could kill you. would that be fucked up or what" it's about the thematic significance of twin motifs. it's about not being able to cry or laugh or dance or sing or scream or fingerpaint or breathe or sigh or chew or stare or run or

10. um. evil robot guy <3 yay ^_^!!

#ask #Anonymous #i say things #homestuck #💾

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guilty-ff · 4 months

Text

Fading Shadows: Love and Betrayal pt.1

ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ່࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊ࠢ࠘𐡏 ˚⁎⁺˳ .

Simon has been your boyfriend for nearly four years. Both of you being colleagues in the 141 task force, living with the dangers of a sergeant being in a relationship with a lietaunent. As Ghost departs on a mission to bring Makarov back, ghosting you for months and coming back as a different person, your relationship begins to crumble

Pairings: fem!reader, Simon Riley, König

Genre: mild angst

Tags: MW3 Spoilers, angst, ghosting, anxiety, arguing, break up, independent, death, kinda Asshole Ghost

It's been three months since your boyfriend Simon departed for the mission with his teammates to catch Makarov. You are a part of Task Force 141, but due to a bullet injury on your left shoulder, you were not allowed to join and requested rest.

You asked Laswell countless times for their status. Not a single message or tracking of the group can be found. Anxiety that something might have happened to the group and specifically your boyfriend begins to rise, and several sleepless nights have been encountered. You promised each other, before being recruited for any mission, to stay in contact.

You are currently lying in your and Simon's shared bed, taking small breaths of his shirt lingering with cologne, wishing each second to receive a sign of his wellbeing. Sure, you both knew what you were getting into when you decided to confess to each other and get into a relationship. Your friends and family, even your colleagues, warned you of a relationship in the military, but nevertheless, you and Simon frankly did not care.

The high ceilings of your bedroom are seeming larger than before. You feel as if you are taking up all the space. Every night is the same. Staring daggers into the wall until reality hits.

You hear a door squeaking and by the time you turn your back, you are facing your boyfriend in his tactical uniform, combat boots and skull mask. You have always loved his military uniform and the way it fits and contours his physic. Likewise, you managed to conceal your face with an agonizing smile. Hiding all the concern and emotions of distress you felt over the past few months.

Living with him for two years taught you that you needed to be patient. After each mission, he returns with a stoic expression and tensed muscles. Him opening up to you took him months, and you do not want to pressure him any further. You knew about his trauma, the things he went through as a child, the results of a childhood full of assault, and the way he copes with his problems. One of them is to lock them up and slowly open them one by one.

While you watch him stripping off his tactical gear and mask, you notice a different look in his face. An expression you cannot read or identify.

As he walks towards the bed, you are moving closer to his side of the bed and can sense the mattress sink and the bedsheets shift. You are wrapping your arms around his shoulders and snuggling up close. Both of you have always loved to cuddle and feel each other's body heat. But now, it feels much more distant and foreign. You shake off these thoughts, close your eyes, and hug him even tighter.

In the morning, you were woken up by your alarm, you pull the sheets tighter around your body. Sensing nothing but cold air caressing your body. You open your eyes, trying to reach for your phone for a few moments before realizing that your partner is nowhere to be found.

You straighten yourself up and get ready for your morning routine as you find a little note on the drawer next to your side:

"I'm off to work"

Usually he wakes you up before leaving the house, but since yesterday, each habit has become foreign.

Even though your injuries have not healed properly, you decide to go to the base and start training. As long as you go easy on yourself and are careful with your stitches, you will find training to be a good alternative to ease your mind.

After arriving at the base, you see your team from afar sitting at the meeting table. Captain Price looks up, and our eyes meet.

"Aren't you supposed to stay at home, Sergeant?" He asks, furrowing his brown brow and crossing his arms.

"You know me damn well, Captain. You can't expect me to just sit at home and do nothing. I'm fully rested and ready to take up my work, " I answer truthfully, with a wide grin crossing my face.

My eyes are scanning the room.

Looking to my left, there sits Ghost, cleaning his rifle with an old cloth, focusing to get all the dirt out of the muzzle before using it for the sniping training with new recruits.

At my right, Gaz is sitting at the end of the table, fully clothed and hooded, with a saddened appearance. The longer I remain in the room, the more the atmosphere feels suffocating, pressing the air out of my lungs.

Counting each member of the group, I witness that someone is missing.

"Isn't it past our meeting time? Where the fuck is Soap at? Always being late, isn’t he?" I try to laugh the depressed ambience off.

Price's contentment look got plastered drastically into a painful expression on his face.

Price hesitates before mumbling “K.I.A”

“What did you just say?” I ask fully known what he has just said. You and Soap were not that much closer in comparison to him and Simon. Nevertheless, he was someone who brought positive vibes in the TF141, which was through all the bloody mission very much needed. Searching throughout the room for answers, your eyes are landing on Simon, who avoids eye contact.

"Makorov shot him in the skull while shielding Simon from Makorov shooting range, he truly died as a hero. In spite of that, we were unable to rescue him. It was an instant kill in action.“

"I could have been there. My shoulder were only aching a bit. I could have been of use-"

"No. Y/n you could have done nothing. The orders of the higher ups were final, and your injuries could’ve been a burden to us.“ Gaz interrupts understanding your moment of distress.

The news of Soap's demise hits you like a shockwave, the weight of grief settling heavy in your chest. Your eyes fixate on Simon, searching for any sign of emotion, but he remains distant, his gaze fixed on some distant point. The room's stifling atmosphere becomes unbearable.

As Gaz speaks about the circumstances leading to Soap's death, you can't help but feel a pang of guilt. The what-ifs echo in your mind, wondering if your presence could have altered the tragic outcome. Gaz's reassurance attempts to pacify your self-blame, but the guilt lingers.

In the days that follow, the once-shared apartment with Simon becomes a silent battleground of unspoken pain. Simon withdraws further, shutting out the world with a stoic facade, and you struggle to bridge the growing gap.

Attempting to salvage what remains, you confront Simon in the dimly lit living room. "Simon, we need to talk. This silence is tearing us apart. Soap's gone, but we're still here, and I can't lose you too."

As he does not speak, you try to calm yourself down and trying your best to be patient and understanding, when all of a sudden, Simon stands up from the couch and leaves you alone in the living room, taking his phone and ignoring you. A synapsis snapped, and all your build in anger, guilt and angst over the past few months exit your body.

"That's enough, if you don’t mind talking to me, alright I get it, if you keep ignoring me, sure enough, but if you do so, you should at least look at me while I'm speaking to you". I yank his phone out of his hand and make him lower his head.

"For fuck's sake, what the fuck was that for? Mind your own bloody business. Stop annoying me and keep out of it.“ he raises his voice at you, something he has never done.

Your frustration eruptes in a torrent of words, "Simon, you can't keep ignoring my feelings and opinions. It's like you live in your own world, completely oblivious to everything I say!"

"I'm not ignoring you. I just don't have time for constant fucking complaints. Maybe if you had something constructive to say-"

"Constructive? How about acknowledging that I have valid thoughts and emotions? You dismiss everything I bring up!"

Simon scoffes,"You're exaggerating. I'm dealing with real problems, not your constant need for attention."

Y/n's anger simmering, "Real problems? Ignoring your partner is a real problem. I'm right here, trying to communicate, and you act like I'm invisible."

Simon, brushing it off, said, "I've got work, responsibilities. I can't be catering to your every whim."

"Damn it. It's not about catering, Simon. It's about being a partner, someone who listens and cares. But you're so wrapped up in your narcissistic ass mindset that you don't even see how much you're hurting me."

Simon, oblivious or unwilling to understand, replies, "I don't have time for this drama. If you can't handle it, maybe we should reevaluate this relationship."

"You really are a pathetic piece of shit, Simon. I'm here trying my best to hold this relationship between us together. While you, you keep on-"

"Of course. It's always me to blame, isn't it? It's always gotta be about you. Maybe your mother should have been present in your childhood and taught you some manners instead of bitching around like you do. Maybe it really would've been better for all of us if you would have come to the mission instead of Soap and died there instead of him-" he snaps back, completely unaware of what he just said.

*smack* Simon feels a sharp sting across his right cheek, unable to answer, he just stares blankly at you and decides not to take a single word back.

You are standing with teary eyes in front of him, trying to process the things he said.

"Well maybe, it would be the best for us if we break up!" I scream back.

The room falls into an awkward silence after the resounding smack. Simon's cheek burns, mirroring the emotional fire that had ignited between you. In the midst of your tears, a newfound strength emerges.

Without a word, you turn away, refusing to let Simon witness your vulnerability any longer. As you gather your belongings, a heavy silence settles, the relationship irreparably fractured. Simon, still grappling with the impact of his words, realizes the magnitude of his actions but finds himself paralyzed by the weight of regret.

With a final, sorrowful glance, you leave the room, leaving Simon to confront the consequences of his hurtful words. The painful truth lingers, marking the end of a relationship that once held a promise.

#call of duty #cod mw2 #cod mw3 #simon riley #ghost #simon ghost riley #cod #ghost cod #john soap mactavish #ghost x soap #cod angst #fanfic #captain price #kyle gaz garrick #argument #fiction #self written #SoundCloud

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makeyoumine69 · 9 months

Note

Hi! For the 2k followers celebration: Daddy kink, non con, rough sex. Pet name Sugarplum, thank you! <3

Watch Me Burn

— PAIRING: Patrick Bateman x Fem!Reader

— SUMMARY: Patrick waited for so long to get his hands on you, and now that you’re finally his, he'll make sure to fulfill all his fantasies, whether you like it or not.

— CONTAINS: Non-con smut, oral sex (Patrick receiving), unprotected p in v sex, Daddy kink, degradation, manhandling, pet names, dirty talk, humiliation, choking, hair pulling, biting, spanking.

— WORDS: 1.5k

— A/N:Thank you so much for your request! It was such a pleasure to write this, so don't mind the length, I just couldn't stop myself, but I hope you like it!

— LINKS: [MASTERLIST] [buy me a coffee]💓

Anger and despair were eating you from the inside out and that feeling was almost scorching — you could feel the searing pain piercing through every pitch of your trembling body. Naked and embarrassed, you were resting on Bateman’s king sized bed. Even though you were not tied up, you didn’t make any attempts to run away, considering you knew you wouldn’t have a chance to escape him.

Playfully humming to himself, Patrick was setting up the camera, he was fully stripped too, however you were doing your best to avoid looking at him — the way his toned muscles were lilting each time he made a move, and not to mention his fully erected cock, bobbing up and down with the bead of the pre-cum on top of his blushing tip.

“What is this sad face?” He suddenly asked after checking if you were on the full screen for the camera. “Not funny anymore, Sugarplum?”

When you didn’t reply, Patrick got closer to the bed and beckoned you to its edge — and this time you couldn’t just ignore him. Tentatively, you moved to the place he wanted you to, his cock twitching from the sight of your exposed body, plus the way it was shaking was giving him a special sort of satisfaction.

With a devilish smirk, Bateman grabbed your chin possessively, forcing you to look at him while he briefly stroked himself. “C’mon, baby. Give it a taste.”

With your eyes already wet again, you got closer to him and wrapped your shaking hand around the base of his dick. When you opened your mouth, you thought you were ready to endure all the things which this night would bring you, but at the very last moment, you closed your eyes and pleaded: “No, I can’t! I can’t do it,” you tried to return to your previous place but his dead grip on your throat didn’t allow you to do it. “Patrick! NO! Please, d-don’t make me do this!”

As soon as you saw his large palm getting closer to your face, you flinched, knowing that he would slap you, but instead, he just slipped his thumb inside your mouth.

“I can’t believe you didn’t take me seriously when I said you would be mine,” Patrick hissed and kept jacking himself off in a steady pace, pushing his finger deeper inside your mouth. “Not a pleasant feeling, huh?” He chuckled arrogantly at your pitiful lowing. “You will get used to it, I promise.”

Everything started to happen so fast, your little mind didn’t have a chance to follow and your head was spinning as if it were hit with a hammer. Growling, Bateman stuffed your mouth with his throbbing cock, pushing it almost till the base and squeezing your nostrils tight, asphyxiating you and ignoring the way you were desperately clawing at his hands.

“If I find any scratches on my skin, I will rip off your fucking nails!” He scoffed and yanked you by the hair. “DO YOU HEAR ME?”

Annoyed, Patrick pulled out from your mouth and you used this moment to inhale deeply, not even thinking about the string of saliva mixed with his pre-cum running down your chin.

“Yes…"

Bateman growled in return and shook you several times.

“Yes, who?” He spat his words into your dull face, squashing your cheeks.

“Yes, Daddy!” You dared to stare into his eyes, although you regretted it almost instantly, as they seemed to be brighter than the Sun and it was too much to look into them.

“You better not test me, Sugarplum.” Patrick crooned in a sweet voice, sliding his leaking dick along your swollen lips before he gave them several slaps. “Actually, I don’t want to hurt you,” he matched his words with a light stroke on your cheek, but the next second he pushed himself inside your mouth once again. “I was thinking about having you for too long… I was imagining how warm your mouth would be,” he almost moaned with his eyes closed as he began to rock his hips against your face. “Fuck, it feels even better than I thought.”

Never in your life have you felt yourself more vulnerable than now and with each passing moment it was getting worse — his obsession about you became your darkest curse.

When Bateman got bored with you giving him head, he easily manhandled you to get on all fours while he was setting himself behind you, so now you both were facing the camera and the mirror on the opposite side of the room. That damn mirror made you close your eyes to avoid seeing that pitiful sight, but once you felt his red tip prodding against your shamefully moist opening, you couldn’t help but turn around to face him — your scared gaze met his lustful one and for a moment you thought you were going to black out.

“Mmmhm, w-wait!” You mewled the moment Patrick rammed inside your tight hole. “It… a-aaaww… it’s so big!”

Cramping the sheets, you could swear you felt each inch of his girth stretching your soft walls and that sensation was both painful and delightful — it made your eyes roll back into your head and lose attachment to reality.

“Shit, you’re so tight,” he husked and thrusted deeper, pushing on your back to bend you lower. “And so fucking wet, you like to be treated like that? Am I right, bitch?”

“N-no!” You whimpered as he gripped your neck and made you arch your back towards him, almost splitting you in half.

“You’re… mmmhm… you’re such a little pathetic liar!” Punctuating each word with a harsh, long stroke, Patrick sped up and forced you to look up at him. “I’ll make sure everyone knows how much of a slut you’re! Now, look at the fucking camera!”

Panting, he let go of you and spanked your ass hard, you could see several tears falling down on the sheets before you raised your watering eyes on the camera.

“How would your friends and family react to seeing you like that?” Bateman continued to taunt you, slamming into you relentlessly, so you could feel his heavy sac hitting your soaked pussy. “Do they know how nasty you are?”

“P-please stop! Stop saying things like that,” you cried out, wiggling in his grasp but Patrick only pushed on you harder and when he covered you from behind completely, you wailed so loud because the angle of penetration was too much to bear. “Please, Daddy! Please, ahhh—please don’t do that!”

“Do what?” He murmured into your ear, resting his hands beneath you, so now they were wrapped around your neck like tight ropes.

“Don’t… don’t show this to anyone, I beg you!” You hated yourself for sounding so miserable and broken, but just the thought of your friends or family watching you like this made you wanna sink through the ground.

His low snickering drowned in lewd sounds of your bodies slapping against each other, along with slick squelch your cunt made each time his throbbing cock slid inside and outside.

“Argh, look at you! You’re so pathetic and ruined… and I like that.” He nipped at your neck and rolled his hips against your ass to push himself even deeper, his swollen tip roughly brushing against your cervix. “How far are you ready to go for it?”

You swallowed your salty tears, clinging to the bed with all might you have to bear the hard pounding. “I… I’ll do everything… you want.”

God, your words just ascended him right to heaven — the power he had over you was overwhelming — how long he was waiting for it, how long he was dreaming about you saying this. Now, he was going to make you pay for each time you denied him, so you would remember how weak and defenseless you were against him.

Leisurely, he backed into his previous position, his pulsating dick slided out from your abused pussy and that gave you a brief moment to catch your breath.

“(Y/n), my dear (y/n),” he repeated your name like a mantra as if he was trying to hypnotize you. “Show Daddy how obedient you can be.”

Shaking, you got on your knees and turned in his direction to see him biting his lower lip and the next moment you cut the distance between you two to kiss him as hard as you could. When you heard him moaning against your mouth you looped your arms around his broad shoulders, and though you did it to save your reputation, you couldn't deny the fact how utterly handsome this man was. And maybe if you two met under other circumstances, you could really fall for him, but now the only thing that had left for you to do was fuck yourself on his beefy shaft and hoping that he would destroy this cursed tape, so no one would ever see this. If only you could wipe your memory, if only you had listened to the warnings about Patrick Bateman, if only…

P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and turn on notifications to know when I update!

#american psycho #patrick bateman x reader #patrick bateman imagine #patrick bateman #patrick bateman x female reader #patrick bateman x you #slasher x reader #slashers x reader #slasher x you #slasher smut #patrick bateman smut #patrick bateman headcanon #christian bale smut #christian bale x reader #patrick bateman reader #christian bale #patrick bateman imagines

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niphredil-14 · 6 months

Note

Hey babes!! I was wondering if you could maybe write a Jason Todd x reader where the reader gets hit on by a stranger, which leads Jason to become somewhat jealous and a little possessive (a healthy amount of course... 😭). Reader wears a necklace with a J on it which he specifically points out to stranger to sort of prove a point that they are indeed taken, that's when he sort of leaves them alone.. Jason on the other hand has a lot in store for reader, specifically in the bedroom.. breeding kink??? Sorry, my mind is all over the place right now 😭

Sorry it's my first time writing a request I don't really know what I'm doing.. but have a great day!!

Sorry this took so long to write, I've been struggling with writer's block, burnout, and some mental health stuff, also my job sucks ass and is super draining. gotta love retail, huh? anyways I hope you enjoy and also sorry that it is so short. I am trying to clear out my inbox on a random boost of motivation so that I can move onto accepting requests for a new fandom!!

White was creeping into the edge of their blurry vision, and their hands, placed against the full body floor mirror for some semblance of support, were shaking about as much as the rest of their body. Their feet had been kicked apart so that Jason could stand between them as he pistoned in and out of their hole, a rough ebb and flow giving them chance to catch their breath. One of his hands rested on their hip, and the other one on their shoulder. They had been stripped entirely, except for a simply, dainty necklace hanging around their neck. The charming J pendant rested just between their collarbones, and was being forced to swing away from them before falling back onto their clavicle, like a single pendulum taken from a Newton's Cradle and being left to swing alone.

"You look so good like this, sweetheart." Jason drawled, his Gotham accent made thicker by his arousal as he left the 'arr' sound in 'sweetheart' to hang in the air, separate from the rest of the word's syllables. "Such a shame your friend from earlier won't get to ever see you like this, since you're all mine." A whine left their throat as they tilted their head to the side, letting it fall limp. He could feel them clench around him. "Oh, you like that, huh?" He asked, though it sounded more like a taunt. "You like bein' mine, dollface?" His teasing only grew more eager. "You like belongin' to me?" They let out the most pathetic sounding whine of affirmation, which was met with a dark chuckle from their lover, followed by the index and middle fingers of his hand, sliding from their shoulder underneath the chain of the necklace, and pulling it into their neck, until their skin puffed out around it. The sigh they let out was pure filth. "You're so fuckin' desperate to be mine, I'd bet you'd let me breed you right now."

"Fuck! Please, Jay!" They called out, and his hips stilled. He tugged the necklace a tiny bit more, and leaned so that his head was next to theirs, their eyes met in the mirror, and Jason parted his lips.

"Are you sure, hon? 'Cause I will, and at that point, there'll be no goin' back, you know? I'd fill ya until I was sure it took, and then I'd go out and buy you a ring first thing in the mornin.' You sure you want that, Y/n? For us to have a family? For you to really be mine, forever?" They nodded breathlessly. "'S not enough, Darlin,' I need to hear ya say it, I'm not gonna take any chances here." His voice was rushed and breathy, and with all of his emotion, his accent made him near unintelligible, but they knew him, knew what he was asking for. They turned their head, fighting against the necklace cutting into them near painfully, and moved one of their hands off of the mirror to place on Jason's cheek.

"I'm sure, Jason. I want to be yours completely, I want it to be us forever." The softest smile graced his face, as his eyes became visibly glossy, and releasing the necklace, letting its pendant rest gently on their skin, he moved his head down to slowly kiss them as he began to move his hips again.

I meant for this to be kinky I swear, I fully blame my shitty day for how fluffy this is. lmk if you want me to write another where its rougher or something.

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wandanatsgf · 3 months

Text

Pray and I Shall Answer Thee Part 2

Pairing: Aphrodite!Wanda x Follower!Reader

Word Count: 1182

Summary: You wait for months for Wanda to return, and yet she never shows. Now you're determined to get over her, but a certain goddess won't allow that.

Warning: This contains smut and oral (r receiving)

Author's note: On my old blog this was called Call and I Will Come or something like that, but I decided to rename it (hope you all don't mind),

Part 2

It has been a few months since your encounter with Wanda and she hasn't visited you since that night. Maybe it was just a one time thing to her, but to you it meant everything. Still, you were determined to get over her and you knew the perfect way to do so.

The walk to your local tavern was a long. You can already feel the cool autumn air seeping into your bones and you still have another 15 minutes to go. You pull your coat tighter around your body as you continue to walk.

The sound of a carriage makes you steer yourself off the road, letting the carriage hopefully pass you by without getting you wet. Unfortunately you weren't so lucky. You hear a loud splash and before you know it, you're soaking wet.

"Oh my gods I am so sorry darling," you hear an angelic voice say as the carriage comes to a stop.

A woman steps out of the carriage and she is one of the most beautiful women you have ever seen. Her red hair curls around her face. and her green eyes sparkle like emeralds in the moonlight. Her white dress wraps around her like wings. She looks angelic, almost godly.

"It's quite alright," you say quickly.

"No it's not. Let me take you back to my place and give you some warm, dry clothes," the woman says. Normally you wouldn't accept such an invitation from a stranger, but there is just something about her that makes you say yes.

"What's your name?" the woman asks you.

"Y/n," you say.

"Y/n," she repeats. "That's a beautiful name for a beautiful girl." You can feel yourself blush as you thank her.

"I'm Natasha."

"Well it's nice to meet you Natasha."

You climb into Natasha's carriage and the two of you converse about all sorts of topics until you make it to Natasha's home. As the carriage comes to a stop, you take in your surroundings. You're amazed at this woman's mansion that she calls a home. She was clearly much more wealthy than you.

Natasha helps you out of the carriage and inside her house. She leads you to her bedroom, which contains a closet full of the most gorgeous clothes you have ever seen.

"Here you go darling. Call for me if you need anything," Natasha says as she hands you the clothes.

"Thank you so much," you say with sincerity.

"It's really no problem," Natasha says, leaving you to change.

You strip out of your tunic and start to pull the new, soft, dry garment on when you hear a voice behind you.

"What do you think you're doing?"

You spin around and come face to face with the goddess who has been on your mind every single day since that night.

"Wanda," you breathe out.

"What are you doing?" she growls out. She looks like a predator stalking its prey.

"I'm changing," you say like it's obvious.

"No you're not," Wanda says. She pulls the garment off of you, leaving you naked. "You're not putting on her things."

"I'm sorry what?!?"

"You heard me. This would be the goddess you call Athena's clothing you are putting on and I won't allow that."

"You won't allow it?!? You're not the boss of me," you say snappily. You snatch the clothing out of Wanda's hand and put it on. You can tell you're angering Wanda, but you don't care. Not after she left you with no contact for months.

"We're leaving," Wanda says. She grabs you by the arm and pulls you towards the front door where Natasha stands.

"What do you think you're doing Wanda," Natasha yells out.

"I'm taking what's mine," she says like it's obvious. The two of them continue to argue over you as if you are some sort of property. You take this opportunity to slip out, unnoticed by the two bickering goddesses.

You had been walking for about five minutes when Wanda appears by your side.

"What do you want goddess," you ask, saying goddess snarkily.

"I have come to apologize."

"Ok. Get on with it."

"I'm sorry for not treating you properly. I haven't been with a human before and I don't quite know how to act. I know I haven't quite courted you properly and I'm sorry," she says.

"I forgive you," you mumble out. "But I want you to do better. I need to see you more. I need stability and I need to see you more, and not just when you're jealous or want something."

"I'll give you that and whatever else you wish darling. Say the word and it is yours." You smile at this.

"Right now all I want is you." This was true. You hadn't been able to get yourself off ever since that night and now that she is here you can't help yourself.

"That can be arranged," she says. You're enveloped in a cloud of red magic. When the cloud disappears you're back at your home.

"Come here," Wanda says. She grabs your hips and pulls you into her. You feel her capture your lips with her own. You moan into the kiss as her hands slip down your sides.

"Jump," you hear her say once your lips break apart. You jump up and wrap your legs around the taller woman's waist. She places her hands on your ass and walks the two of you over to your bed. She gently places you down and crawls on top of you.

"I have a lot to make up for don't I?"

"Yes you do my goddess," you say. Wanda smiles down at you. She takes your dress off, leaving you in a set of bra and panties. She lets out a low moan at the sight of you, and it makes your core tingle with excitement. Wanda places soft kisses against your collar bone while her right hand slips down to your bra covered tits. She gently gropes your left boob before taking your bra off. She throws your bra to the other side of the room and quickly attaches her lips to your nipple.

"Fuck," you moan out.

"Am I making you feel good baby?" Wanda asks.

"Yes goddess. You're making me feel so good," you say. You grab Wanda's hair and lightly pull. Wanda detaches herself from your nipple and moves straight to your core. She slips your panties off and immediately attaches her lips to your clit.

“Gods,” you moan out.

“It’s not gods honey. There’s only one god making you feel this good,” Wanda says as she sucks on your bundle of nerves. Wanda continues to suck and lick your core and you can feel yourself getting closer and closer to your release.

“Please goddess,” you beg.

“Cum for me baby. Cum for your goddess,” she says. That’s all it takes before your release spills out onto Wanda’s tongue as she licks it all up.

"Thank you Wanda," you say.

"Anything for you darling and I'm truly sorry for my behavior. I promise I'll be better." Wanda places a gentle kiss on your lips. which you reciprocate.

"It's alright, all is forgiven," you say.

#scarlet witch x reader #wanda x reader #mcu #marvel #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #scarlet witch #smut #wanda x reader smut #wanda maximoff smut #lizzie olsen #elizabeth olsen

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oleander-nin · 7 months

Note

Im not sure if you still take reqs so sorry if you dont but can you do yandere donnie with a reader thats really bad at taking care of themself? Like they’ll stay up until like 5am playing videogames and end up sleeping in so much they decide to skip breakfast and lunch then end up eating a snack instead of a real meal for dinner because its to much work

A/N, not important: Uhh, I think I may have done this wrong- I had an idea, but somehow this came out instead. If it's majorly not to your tastes, send the request again and I'll try again. Thank you sm to @lethelagoon for the title and for helping me with the fic! Also this is posted on the tenth and not the third because I posted smth on the first and decided I could just skip to this week. Any criticism is welcome, constructive or not. This is supposed to be a gender neutral reader, so if I screwed up somewhere, please tell me.

-Ollie

Tw: mention of feeding tube, descriptive, mentions of drugging, pills, needles, abuse, kidnapped reader, dark themes, yandere themes

Words: 1357

Summary: Donnie comes home and finds out you broke his rules. Again.

“Do we need to go over your schedule again?” Donnie’s smooth voice sounds from behind me. I look towards him, shrinking down in fear. I set the console SHELLDON swore I was allowed to use down, racking my brain to try and find an excuse to get out of this. It had taken me three months to convince him I was fine being left alone, three months to convince him I wouldn’t break the schedule he created for me. Yet here I was, caught with the console on and his(or ours, as he liked to claim) bed unmade, the clock shining the traitorous numbers brightly. It was three in the morning, and Donnie had just returned from a mission, catching me in the act. I gulp. This was not going to go well.

“Well?” He asks, crossing his arms and tapping his foot. A scowl was on his face, signaling his distaste to the world. I chew on my cheek, opening my mouth and closing it over and over, trying to think of something to say. I didn’t want to be drugged again. I wouldn’t let him drug me again.

“I couldn’t sleep.” I say. It was a half-truth, which is better than a full lie. He can’t prove I wasn’t having trouble sleeping. Hopefully he won’t realize I never tried.

Donnie scoffs, a scowl set on his face. “Then you ask SHELLDON for sleep medicine. That is not an excuse and you know it. Gosh, you’re so- UGH!”

I cower back, my hands starting to shake as he paces around the room, his arms flailing as he continues to rant. I was going to be punished again, I was sure of it. Images of the isolation room and chains flashed through my mind, the slick taste of pills burning my throat. I couldn’t go through that again. I never wanted that to happen again.

Noticing my shaking, Donnie rolls his eyes and crosses the room in quick succession. He scoops me into his arms, holding me close while he continues to grumble under his breath. His arms were tense, the muscles more defined due to his anger. I couldn’t help the wave of panic coursing through my veins, my mouth going dry.

I brace myself for the sharp pinch of a needle, but it never comes. I glance at his face, his dark eyes boring into mine. He wasn’t pleased, that was certain, but I couldn’t understand why he wasn’t freaking out. Last time I did something like this, he stripped the room of anything I could mess with and kept me locked up for a month. I still remember the pills he brought in, every night at seven. I shudder at the thought, the feeling of my body shutting down and pulling me into an unwanted sleep.

He continues to stare at me, scanning my face slowly. He sighs in irritation, adjusting me in his arms before carrying me further into the room and setting me on the bed. He sits on the edge, his eyebrows furrowed as he takes his gear off slowly, letting each glove and padding fall to the floor. His steady hands were shaking in anger, his drawn eyebrows furrowed. My chest is tight in fear, knowing what was to come. The only wonder I had was why he was taking so long. I watch his face, trying to look past his eyes and learn what he was thinking. His silence was never good, a painful indicator of how ruthless he could be. Silence was a warning with Donnie, never a blessing.

“You didn’t listen.” He says, his voice tight. He’s not looking at me, his eyes trained on the floor. His hands squeeze the blanket of his bed, his green knuckles going white from the force. My blood runs cold and I desperately try to think of a way to fix this. He looks back over at me, his eyes narrowed and furious. “Why? Do you think I’m wrong? Do you not see the way I love you and want you to improve?”

I stay silent, unable to form a response. I didn’t know how to tell him the way he loved me was wrong in every way possible. I didn’t know how to tell him I still wanted, no needed, my escape from reality.

His eyes wash over me again, my body feeling heavier with each look he gave me. It was like every time he scanned my body, another layer of fear and shame was set on my shoulders. The room was getting smaller, my lungs struggling to take in air. My left hand crosses my chest and sits on my shoulder, my right digging painfully into my thigh. I couldn’t do this. I wanted to go home. I hate him, I hate him so much. I can’t do this, I can’t be near him. All he does is hurt, and take, and I can’t leave. I was going to die here, stuck under the sick obsession of a mutant turtle.

I feel his hand on my back and I try not to cry, panic and fear growing until I feel as if I would pop. I couldn’t live like this, not any longer. I look up, seeing the way his face had tensed. I could see his lips moving, but couldn’t hear the words. I feel my throat ache from the held back tears, my entire body thrumming in sync with my heart. It was too fast. His room was too dark.

“Breathe.”

I suck in a sharp breath at the order, my body conditioned to do as he says without question. His hand goes under my chin, gripping it firmly, but not harshly. He makes me look into his eyes, the same eyes that were unbothered as he locked me away for weeks. The same eyes that stared angrily as he shoved a feeding tube down my throat when I forgot to eat. A sob bubbles from my chest as I try to pull back, survival instinct kicking in. His grip on my chin grows tighter, his other arm looping around my back and holding me in place. He places his forehead against mine, his lips moving once more. I could feel the words around me, the vibrations in the air, but I couldn't hear them. I could understand what he was saying, but I didn’t know what he said.

I continue to cry involuntarily, the hand holding my chin shifting to cup my cheek so he can wipe the tears as they fall. It didn’t help, his thumb wasn’t fast enough to wash them all away. I sit like that for nearly twenty minutes, the world around me crashing down and landing on my chest. My vision swirls with each sob while Donnie continues to hold me and whisper useless, silent words.

My vision swims one last time before the room starts to come back into focus, a harsh ringing in my ears. Donnie’s face is inches from mine, his drawn eyebrows furrowed. I stare at them through my sniffles. I never noticed he didn’t take off his mask. I try to turn my head to look at the room, but his grip on my face is strong.

“Are you done?”

I blink at him, his thumb roughly swiping my cheek as a stray tear falls. I forgot how his voice sounded for a moment. I take a deep breath, nodding. I didn’t have any other way to tell him, and I doubted I would fall into another fit. His hands fall from my face and I lean my neck back, staring at the ceiling. I felt numb, like my tears washed away every emotion my body once held. I couldn’t tell if I felt free, or even more suffocated. It was surreal, having my body be able to go through such stress before falling back as if nothing had happened.

Donnie’s hands trail down me, as if he was afraid I’d fall apart if he let go. They loop around my waist, pulling me firmly into his lap before he shifts on the bed and falls backwards, keeping me on his chest. I don’t fight it this time, letting him press a kiss to the crown of my head while he slowly rubs my back.

“This is what happens when you don’t listen, love.” His voice is quiet, one hand leaving my back to take his mask off while the other holds me tight. I let my head fall, my cheek pressed uncomfortably against the hard of his plastron. I let my eyes close, too tired to fight him any longer. I feel his chest vibrate as a small chuckle can be heard from him. “There you go. Sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up so we can discuss your new schedule. This will never happen again.”

I feel my stomach churn at his words, but I do nothing more than hum in agreement. I couldn’t fight anymore, my energy zapped. I just hoped I could sleep in tomorrow. I would delay a talk with him forever if I could. I take another breath and sleep comes for me, dragging me down into the darkness of my mind.

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barelylivingscholar · 27 days

Text

Arlecchino with a daughter tw: unhealthy family relationships, manipulation, and gore(?), suicidal thoughts, unstable/mentally ill daughter. Not for the faint of heart, heavy angst, a somewhat positive ending in the last part(?) (Do not read if uncomfortable)

An: I am backkkkk, second semester and last semester’s finals kept me busyyyyyy but I’m here again to post some stufffffff!! Not hsr related but like I also write for Genshin now, apparently… Will post a part two, I guess? “Father. When am I able to hang around with the others? I have done everything that you’ve asked for.” A young girl asked, to which “Father” responds with, “You need to focus on the task in hand. I still have many more missions for you to do before I set you free.” The girl sighed, knowing very well that she may as well never be able to be allowed to play with the other kids… For a moment, the girl had wished that she wasn’t the only one to deal with this kind of burden. The burden being, the “successor” of “Father.” She wanted to play with the other kids as well, but alas, her father does not permit her to do so. Instead, excuses are made, and the standard Fatui discipline is instilled in her mind, always have to act proper and professional, not allowed to shed a tear, or to feel strong feelings regardless of what the matters are. I hate it here. I do not wish to stay here any longer. Every day feels like I am only made to be the person that “Father” wishes me to be. I am never truly happy. I am sinking. Father was not family. This whole thing is and always was, a lie. Do I ever get to be free? Perhaps I can set myself free. There is a way. ̶T̶̶h̶̶e̶ ̶q̶̶u̶̶e̶̶s̶̶t̶̶i̶̶o̶̶n̶ ̶i̶̶s̶, ̶a̶̶m̶ ̶I̶ ̶w̶̶i̶̶l̶̶l̶̶i̶̶n̶̶g̶ ̶t̶̶o̶ ̶d̶̶o̶ ̶i̶̶t̶? --- After burning the corpse of their enemies, I return to the House of the Hearth, albeit bloody and face that is smudged of dirt, the smell of blood and gasoline lingers around me. With every passing servant, caretakers, and also children as well, unsettled and left shaken up at the sight of me. I stained the carpets red. I wonder if “Father” would notice as the carpet is in the same shade of the blood of her enemies…? Will she punish me and discipline me? Although words are exchanged, no form of physical harm done, I am still left isolated. Like I am to be a monster kept away from people… I feel caged.

This time, I didn’t bother to clean up and went straight ahead to father’s office. Where I know I’ll be punished for such a careless mistake. “Father, I have returned.” I greet, looking to see her eyes staring straight at me. For once I don’t cower. I simply walk up to her and wait for her response. I have no reason to be scared, right? I don’t think I care anymore. Father’s eyes narrowed. The sight of blood that wasn’t mine, the smell of gasoline, in her eyes, I may as well be the filthiest child in the house. One that is simply, uncouth for the position of “successor.” “Why have you not followed protocol? Especially contingency 8? Have I not taught you well?” Her voice sharp, dissatisfied with my performance. It must be a surprise for her that her “successor” had become disobedient. What is she going to do to me, I wonder? Dispose of me? Or would she find someone else who is to succeed her as the “Father” of the House of the Hearth. “I… I have no other excuses.” I was unable to control my voice. It was shaky, wavering. I hate it. Father’s eyes seemed to had harden. I am interested with what is going to be the left of me once this is all over. I look forward to it. I want her to snap at me. Kill me. Foul words for a child like me, but this is what I planned. Maybe it is best that I sleep in eternal slumber instead rather than live a life full of misery. I have nothing to be grateful here. I am not thankful that I am still alive today. “…You are hereby stripped of the title “successor.” You are no longer worthy of the title. I am disappointed.” Is that it? No severe punishments? My mind raced; I was unable to comprehend why had she punished me in a way that is so… Little? Had she gone soft? I do not remember anything that made her want to punish me lightly. Don’t I deserve… More? My brows had furrowed. “Father” did not miss that. “Daughter… Are you, upset?” Her voice sounded confusing, to me. Why do you suddenly care? I don’t understand you at all. I do not feel safe at all. Are you really “family?” “…I’m fine.” I say, my voice a little tight. Unshed tears on my face, I am no fool. I do not need your love.

“You are now excused.” Never had I ever left her office so quickly after that. I had to get away…! I need to get out of here… I breathed heavily as I ran and ran… Until there is nowhere to go. The heavy snow had engulfed me. And soon… I was unconscious. I awoke to an unfamiliar place. This is not the House of the Hearth. I quickly got up, ignoring the sudden rush of blood shooting up due to how fast I went up. I ignore the throbbing pain on my forehead, I focused on my surroundings instead. Where am I? This place is… Different. I jolted as I felt a hand on my shoulder, immediately backing off and grabbing a hidden dagger in my boot. “Stay there! I will stab you!” I hissed. Glaring at the mysterious figure. They looked… Kind. I am not supposed to feel that way. There are no kind people in this world. Everyone I know will always lie to me, manipulate me for their gain. Just like “Father.” Just like them…

The stranger had knelt down and attempted to soothe me. I only responded with aggression and threats. They weren’t phased at all. “Who are you? I am no ordinary orphan! I am a murderer!” I shouted, clearly agitated. The man in a familiar coat had not reacted violently at all. I am confused. And angry. “I am Pantalone. “Regrator” from the Fatui. I assume you are one of the Knave’s lost children…” My eyes widened at the statement. He is no ordinary man… I should’ve known, I gritted my teeth and gripped my dagger tight. “I am not her orphan! I am no longer a part of that… I could care less if you are a part of the Fatui, I will die gladly in vain if I have to fight for my freedom!” I hissed. The man is amused. I can tell by the look in his eyes. “I have a better proposal for you, child.” “Regrator” inquired. I had not chosen to back down even at the prospect of an offer. “What makes you think I will take it?” I replied, gripping the dagger tight. “I will not surrender you to the Knave. Rather, I’ll take you in as my disciple.”

Disciple? Is this man sick in the head? Why would I agree to that? It seems “Regrator” had heard my thoughts, and so, he added, “Although, it is up to you if you would rather be surrendered back to the Knave… Or join me and I’ll give you a much better purpose, in life… Not that you have any choice on the matter if you decline my offer…” I had no sense of purpose to live for. I am merely an empty shell of what I was once. I have nothing to achieve… In the end, I don't have what it takes to truly end my life. So I will follow my new superior. “Fine. But don’t expect me to be easily obedient. I am rather mad.” And it was the start of something anew… I had become, “Regrator’s disciple.” I wonder how “Knave” will react to such arrangements… An: Part two will include Lyney, Lynette, and Freminet. There will be other characters who will be included as well but, part one's story was set before Lyney became the sucessor of the House of the Hearth. I am thinking of interesting ideas to write for this story and some alternate routes as well... We'll see once I whip up part two.

#platonic genshin x reader #genshin x reader #genshin angst #genshin impact #arlecchino x reader #pantalone x reader #fatui harbringers x reader #platonic genshin impact #daughter!reader

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wishful-seeker · 1 year

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Let's Talk About Hagstones

Hagstones are rocks with naturally occurring holes in them. These rocks are usually found by bodies of water, and the hole is created by erosion from the water. I personally also consider shells with holes in them hagstones.

Editing bc someone mentioned this: the holes in shells are not caused by erosion but actually by creatures burrowing holes into shells. I know this and still consider them hagstones because they both involve holes and water, but that's just what I do in my craft personally.

Hagstones are considered to be good luck, to help with fertility, protection, healing, and seeing and communicating with spirits.

Some claim the only way to use a hagstone at "full" power is by finding it yourself or if it was given to you as a gift. Some people even say it has no power if you buy it yourself. "It only works if you find it yourself." I honestly think that's some superstitious (and slightly ablist) bs because mine were purchased and work just fine. Don't let superstition stop you from buying a pretty rock.

Anyways, here are some other superstitions regarding hagstones:

It is said that hagstones can ward off or attract the fae, as well as see through glamours. if you wish to attract some, you can pour morning dew through a Hag Stone hole and anoint yourself with it.

It's said that if you find a large hagstone, big enough to walk through, if you walk through with your partner you'll be blessed with a baby.

To have a good dream and calm mind tie one to your bedpost.

Nailing a hagstone to a boat will disperse oncoming storms

To make a wish come true place a hagstone in your left hand and rub it clockwise while thinking about your wish.

Tie them to something you want to protect to protect it.

Some say if you hold a hagstone you can't lie.

I personally keep one infront of my scrying mirror to keep spirits from leaving the mirror. I haven't anointed my stone with morning dew or seen much but looking through it definitely gives me a strange feeling. It definitely feels like a film infront of the world has been stripped away when you look through it.

Either way it's a pretty and cool rock

#witchcraft #witchy #witch #witchblr #hagstone

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bellewintersroe · 11 months

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Charles Leclerc x reader smut - part 2

obsessed with this man I s2g, so here’s a part 2, literally just a series full of smut, kinda spontaneous so I don’t even know where this is going, but whatever. Link to Part 1.

Since Charles and Jenny’s encounter, Jenny was left even more frustrated, and with Charles’ orders that she couldn’t cum until he was the one to make her, she struggles even more to cope with the anticipation of having him again. The aftermath of them two is a tense, giggly mess skcieifiekw Charles is really soft hasnt shown his confident side in bed yet and reader can tell.

Smut - 18+ sexting, masturbation, teasing, swearing, dirty talk. Charles is a flustered mess, almost blows it a little too quickly… oral, fingering, p in v sex. Sexual tension? Ahh I want this man so bad.

My half sister was asleep in bed next to me and all I could do was stare at the ceiling of the hotel, waiting, waiting and waiting. Why she was asleep at 8pm I’ll never know, but now I had no way from distracting myself from the real issue on my mind. Charles. After our encounter earlier all I could think about was having him again, I got butterflies whenever I thought about it, and when I replayed his words in my mind they went straight to my core.

‘Don’t touch yourself until I can’.

How on earth was I supposed to wait? My hotel room was free for three whole hours whilst Eva, my sister was with her ‘boyfriend’ that she’d met in Austria. Seeing as she’d been sneaking out and I’d kept her secret, it was her turn to keep mine. I’d kept to Charles’s words all afternoon, waiting rather impatiently, but now it was getting later and later, all I could do was laid with tightly crossed legs and scroll through my phone in a pathetic attempt to distract myself.

Charles had been texting me back and fourth all afternoon, apart from when he was training of course. The more time that passed the hornier I got. So I took myself to the bathroom, deciding to run a second shower. “Fuck this…” I muttered, locking the door and stripping off my clothes. My underwear were already dripping wet, and I sighed, annoyed by my own desperation. I could still imagine vividly the slight stretch of my tight hole around his cock, the way he’d press so hard against me that his balls would push against my ass. Before I knew it my right hand was rubbing over my clit, taking my phone in my other hand and snapping a picture of my bare tits and torso, cutting it off just before he could see where I was touching. Oops

I’d sent to him the message, stepping in the shower with my hair tied up to avoid getting it wet. Maybe it was a good idea to cool off. When my phone buzzed again, I took it with wet hands.

I thought you said you were going to wait

I’m not making myself cum, but I’m just so wet from earlier, I can’t help it

fuck you are making me hard

To this, I sent him another picture of my wet tits pressed together, fingers slightly sprawled over my pierced nipple, awaiting his response as I tightened my legs. I loved the idea of Charles being hard over me, no matter how many times we had these conversations, they never failed to turn me on more than anything. You are so fucking beautiful, I’m going to fuck you so good later

are you touching yourself? Smirking, I pulled out the camera again, leaning against the wall as I sunk down to the floor, spreading my legs and sending him a video of me rubbing my clit slowly. fuck fuck fuck Jenny im leaving in a minute

So hard for you omg

Leaning back I let out a quiet sigh, enjoying the sensation of touching myself, I was throbbing so desperately, closing my eyes and becoming lost in the moment. I imagined his fingers pushed inside of me, fingering me until I squirted down his arm, screaming his name as I tugged on his short hair. The way he’d muffle a moan if his face was pressed up to my pussy, tongue licking up and down as he made me cum all over his face. Fuck, if I continued I wouldn’t stop. I was dangerously close to losing control, so I had to pull my hand away and continue with a second shower, unable to look at Charles’ dirty words until I was done.

I will be back in 10 minutes, I’ll come get you

just as long as you’re quieter than you were earlier 😉

shut up

I giggled, realising I kinda had to rush. I had to go through the full routine again, moisturising, spraying perfume, picking out new underwear. “What’re you doing?” My sister grumbled from behind me, thick in her French accent, as I stuffed my phone into my pocket. I had to leave now. Charles was outside the room. “Uh going out, I’ll be back in the morning, don’t tell dad, cos’ I kept your boyfriend a secret!” I warned as she pfffted out a tired laugh. “Salope.” She joked as I fake gasped. “You are the slut!” I giggled, heading down the corridor, knowing my secret was safe. “Jenna?” She then asked. “C’est Charles?” I cringed at her question. She’d caught on oddly fast. “Non.” I lied, before slipping out of the room and seeing Charles stood there, hood up and a gentle smile covering his face. I immediately smile, being quiet to close the door behind me. “Bonjour.” I teased as he wrapped an arm over my shoulders, pressing a kiss to my lips, “hello.” He eyed me up and down, squeezing my shoulder before his arm dropped and he left a lazy hand on my lower back.

“Thats his room… be quiet.” I whispered, as we passed my father and step-mums room with our heads dipped. “Lucky, I am on a different floor.” He shrugged, pressing the elevator button. The whole time we were waiting for the lift I was anxiously awaiting somebody I knew to open their door or come out from down the hallway. When a door did pull open, I was grateful that we’d hopped into the lift for safety. Charles pressed the button number 7 and then I frantically pressed the close button, relieved when we began moving upwards.

He laughed at my frantic behaviour, coming up behind me and making eye contact with me through the mirror in the lift. “You look so good.” He muttered, voice getting lower as he stepped closer towards me, hooking an arm over my chest.

Smiling back up to him, I watched as he dipped his head inhaling the scent of my hair. “You smell good!” His words made me laugh now, feeling him nuzzle his nose into my freshly washed hair. “You weirdo!” I giggled, digging my bum back into his hips as he groaned, moving the hair back with a kiss to my neck. “Mmm, ça m'excite.” He admitted it turned him on as I hummed, running a hand over his clothed arm.

He mimicked my hum, leaving several kisses on my skin as I gasped out a soft sigh, just as the lift doors opened. There was two different couples stood wide eyed, luckily I didn’t recognise either of them as Charles cleared his throat, lowering his head and leading me out of the lift with his hand. Once we’d past them, both of us giggled, sharing a kiss whilst he used his keycard to open the hotel door.

Oh my god, his room was nice, 10x better than mine and Eva’s and I wasn’t surprised. I turned back to him with my jaw dropped. “It’s so nice in here!”

“It is… I gotta shower and I’ll be back with you, put whatever you want on the TV.” He glanced me up and down as I nodded, sitting down on the plush bed and leaning back. “Ugh, so comfy.”

“I know!” He exclaimed, stripping off his hoody and tossing it straight onto my head playfully. His phone was still in the pocket, luckily it didn’t hit my head but it didn’t stop him from rushing over.

“I am sorry! I forgot that was in there! Are you okay?” He laughed, scanning over me as he held my face. “I’m okay, you idiot.” I laughed, playfully tapping his face as he pressed a kiss to my forehead, and then again to my lips. Charles jumped up quick, almost child like. “Ok, I will go shower now.”

Whilst he was showering, I was struggling to work the TV, everything was in French, or German. I mean we were in Austria, I just struggled to follow the language when it was on the TV. In the end I settled for some French sitcom whilst I awaited Charles to be finished in the shower.

10 minutes later, Charles walked back out in a fresh pair of Calvin Kleins, practically diving on the bed with a playful look in his eyes. “Don’t look at me half naked.” He half joked as I giggled. “What?! I barley even saw you!”

“Good…” he spun around on the bed, resting next to me against the headboard. “What are you watching this for?!” Charles spluttered out a laugh, taking the control that had been resting in my hand. “It’s my favourite TV show.” I sarcastically spoke. “Can’t you tell?” “No, I can’t.” He laughed sheepishly, clearly thinking I was being serious. “I’m being sarcastic, I don’t even know what they’re saying. Their French is too quick. Le mien est lent.” I told him mine was slow, longing out the sentence as Charles scanned over my face. His gaze dropping down to my lips. “You sound good when you speak French.”

“Hm?” The corner of my lip perked, pulling my knees up slightly to bend, but Charles had other ideas. His hand smoothed down my thigh, nudging it back on the bed as I swallowed harshly. “It’s a shame I could not hear you in those videos earlier.” He muttered sending a wave of butterflies through my lower stomach. “I had to be quiet.” “You didn’t cum did you?” He asked, hand pausing as his fingers just about nudged under the hem of my grey jogging shorts. “No, I listened.” I teased, watching a smile grow on his face. “Now I have finally got you alone.” Charles smirked, his fingers continuing their way up to rest on my inner thigh. “About time.” I moaned, watching him sit up slightly so he could nudge his lips against mine to steal a kiss. I could feel his smile against my mouth the whole time, it made it a little hard to kiss, but I didn’t care, his excitement was a compliment to me. Plus, I’d been waiting for this all day. The playful tone in the room soon switched up to something heavier as he lay between my legs, kissing me hungrily with his tongue rolling over mine. There was that thick tension between the two of us again, one that made me pull his hips further into my own. We didn’t have to speak to let one another know how badly we yearned for this. I was wet just from kissing, and Charles didn’t hesitate to slip off my shorts, discarding them next to us on the bed.

“I want to taste you… can I taste you?” He asked, fingers inching closer up my thigh, teasing around the area as I writhed, not being down for this teasing. After months of fantasising about this, and him saying how badly he wanted his mouth on my pussy, my dream was finally coming to life.

“Yeah.” I weakly spoke, hand on his head as he worked his way down my body. Oh god, oh god, I was already breathing heavy, but this was just making my chest heave and fall at a ridiculous pace. “Are you sure?” He breathed, lips pressing a kiss to the lace of my thongs. “Mmh, please.” I moaned as he let out a soft chuckle, fingers nipping under the edge of my skinny underwear. “I like this.” He whispered before sliding them down my legs. I gulped, fidgeting my legs as he nudged them open, leaning in and finally licking a stripe up my pussy. The two of us simultaneously groaned. “Mmm, Charles.” I cooed, as he hummed, licking over me once again. The heat from his tongue, followed by his lips wrapping around my clit sent me onto a whole other planet. “You taste so good, baby.” He uttered, barely breaking away from his movements as he sucked over my clit again. He looked away, shyly, rubbing his hands up and under my tight shirt, squeezing at my tits. “Couldn’t stop staring at these tits.” He admitted as I let out a louder moan, feeling him pinch at the pierced buds. “So sexy.” He commented before licking up and down over my sensitive clit once again. “Charles.” My body jerked, knees trapping his head as he continued his assault on my core. “Oh my god, you feel so god.” I finally spoke, feeling him smile as I whined, grinding my hips against his mouth. “How can I make you cum, baby, with my fingers?” He asked, seeming a little unsure as I nodded with a pleasured sigh. Charles wiped the back of his mouth before kissing me, tracing once finger down my naval, over my slit and easily pushing into my wetness. “Oh, fuck.” I gasped as he hummed, nodding besides me as he kept pushing his finger in and out. “Keep- keep going.” I gasped, hearing the squelching of my wetness against his fingers, my own hand moved down to assist his, rubbing over my clit as Charles kissed at my cheek.

“I’ve been thinking about this all day. About you.” Charles admitted as I moaned, dropping my head against his for support. “Keep talking to me.” I whined, desperate to hear more. “About how tight your pussy felt, how badly I wanted to cum in there… can you take two?” He hummed as I moaned out loud, hand grabbing at his prominent bulge, desperate for something to hold onto.

“Yeah.” Charles pushed his second finger into my tightness as my breath hitched, feeling the intensity of his fingers jabbing at my G-spot. “I imagined you cumming all down my fingers.” His accent was doing wonders for me and soon it was my turn to talk back. “Gonna make me cum Charles, fuck, do you want me to?”

“Yes, baby, oui, jouis pour moi.” He instructed me to cum for him, my stomach curling and tightening as I let out a louder gasp, squeezing the head of his cock as he let out an inward groan. “Cum for me and I will fuck you so good.” He told me, “Charles!” I warned, hand moving to snatch at his flexed arm as I choked out several moans. “I-I’m cumming! I’m cumming!” I gasped, feeling the overwhelming pleasure soon rattle through me. I felt myself release from below, squirting on him as I let out a borderline scream, covering my mouth but Charles pulled my hand away. “That’s it, that’s it.” He cooed me through my orgasm as I sobbed out, body writhing and twitching as he milked my orgasm.

“Tu as giclé pour moi. Tu es tellement bon.” He muttered gently, easing his fingers out of me once my body had relaxed. “What? I don’t know what tha’ means.” I panted furiously. “I don’t know it in English, you… you know.” He gestured down to my below. “Squirted?” I awkwardly said as he nodded. “Yes, I lost my English.” “Mmm, it’s okay.” I hushed, pulling him in for a kiss as I swiped my hand down to rub over his cock. “You’re so hard.” I moaned as he let out a breathy sigh against my mouth. “I can’t wait to feel you inside me.” I urged him on, taking a hold and rubbing more at his cock.

“I need to fuck you.” Charles then spoke, “I need to- putain, c'est trop bon.” He cut himself off with a curse in French, hips jumping when I squeezed his dick. He made out with me for a little longer, breathing heavy as I quickened my pace. “Non, non… I am taking care of you.” He seemed to fight an internal battle, but didn’t push me away. “I like doing this, Charles, making you feel good.” I cooed as he moaned out loud now. “C'est trop rapide. Putain, si tu n'arrêtes pas ça ira trop vite.” (This is too quick. Fuck, if you don’t stop it will happen too quick).

“What will happen too quick?” I bucked my naked hips up at him as he quickly stopped me. “Non, non, non. Give me a minute-“ he exhaled quickly, freezing and stopping my hand from touching him. “Are you okay?”

“You just nearly make me cum too fast.” For some reason, his words spurred me on further, but I knew I couldn’t continue to tease. “It’s okay.” I whispered, turning around and stripping my top off. Charles eyes were constantly on me, and it was within no time that he was pushing me under his body. “You can fuck me exactly how you wanted to now.” I giggled as he bit down on his lips, kicking off his underwear. “You want this?” He asked, pumping at his cock. So fucking hard and long, he was the perfect size. “Yeah… do you?”

“So much.” He cooed, easing himself in once again. I gasped, snatching at his shoulders. This time, the burn was a little harsher than before, but I pushed through it, knowing I was just a little sore from earlier. “Is it ok?” Charles let out a groan, with a noise like that how could I ever stop? “Fuck me.” I begged, moving my hips up until he finally began thrusting in and out of me. “Does that feel okay?” I could tell he was holding himself back, straining as he held himself up to wait for my answer. “It’s good.” I panted with a reassuring smile. “You feel so good.” This made hun smile as he moved forwards to kiss me much deeper now.

“Oh, yeah.” Charles moaned directly into my ear making me sigh out in utter pleasure, feeling his hand holding the back of my head. “Harder.”

“Harder?” He looked back as I nodded. “Please, I need it.” I spoke through almost gritted teeth as he rested his hands either side of me, beginning to fuck into me at a pace that I could barely moan properly at. He was so good, his hips were slapping against my own, the bed beginning to squeak at our antics.

I took his hand, running it over my breasts and throat teasingly. “Oh god.” He closed his eyes, tending his jaw as he thrusted into me harsher. With each intense thrust I yelled out, snatching and scratching at his back as Charles hissed. His cock was filling me up, stretching my pussy out, my legs were wide and he was slotted so perfectly between them. Sinful noises filled the room as we continued with our passionate fucking. I couldn’t stop, neither could he, it was like a desperation as we chased one another’s orgasms. Every time we’d start off sweet and slow it’s like something inside of us clicked and an animalistic side came out. I tugged on Charles’s wrist, pushing his hand onto my neck as he groaned. “You will make me cum, fuck! You will make me come, Jen- jouis avec moi. jouis avec moi, baby!” We were spooning, my leg stretched up as he frantically fucked me like there was no tomorrow.

“Cum together?” I repeated. “Oui!” He gasped out, tightening his grip on my neck as I rolled my eyes back, feeling him rubbing over my clit. The pace was overwhelming, I could no longer hold back the anticipation racking up inside of me. “Okay, cum, cum inside me, fuck, give it to me- Ah, I’m cumming!” My voice raised as Charles gasped out, fucking his seed into me as he came with a satisfied moan, simultaneous to my own. “Fuck, fuck. I just came so hard.” Charles choked out, his tight grip loosening do rub over my skin. I was exhaling loudly, body jolting and jittering from the aftershocks of my orgasm. “So did I.” I sighed, feeling him milking the last of his cum inside of me, body dripping with sweat as he gently rested an arm over me. “Just stay like this.” Charles cooed, pulling me close as I hummed, snuggling into his back. “Are you okay?”

“Tired.” I responded feeling him lifting his head to take a look at me. “Tu as bien fait ma belle.” (You did so good, my beautiful). An undeniable smile grew on my face. “So did you…”

#Charles leclerc #Charles leclerc x reader #Charles Leclerc smut #Charles leclerc smut x reader

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johnnieguilbertsgirlfriend · 5 months

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embarrassing... (smut) oneshot

SOFT GALLY! (rare occasion tbh)

word count: 0.7k - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - fluff, smut

you hadn't seen your boyfriend all day. he was busy fixing another part of the homestead while he told you to get some wood. while you were grateful he wasn't as tough on you, you didn't mind helping him with his work. moving the logs all day had made your back and shoulder ache. being mentally and physically deprived from exhaustion, you didn't even realize someone behind you. "BOO" he says, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind. you let out a scream and then see that it was Gally. "I thought I was gonna die, you scared me so bad," you say while punching his shoulder playfully. he laughed at you, making you scoff a little. "Did you miss me?", he smirks. "Yeah actually, I did." you say, pretending to be sad and giving him puppy eyes. "Well how can I not resist that? Come here." he kisses your forehead and embraces you in a hug, sweeping you off your feet and carrying you to the shared hut.

Gally places you down on the bed, making you wince. your back was hurting so bad from today, so you decided to ask him; "Baby, can you please give me a massage?" he didn't know you felt this miserable, so of course he agreed. you turned over, facing down on the bed. he started on your shoulder and almost immediately, you moaned out of pain. but, it also felt kinda good. the boy was confused and let go, but you reassured him, "Gally it hurts right there, can you do it harder?" he was lucky that you couldn't see how red his face was. "Uh- sure babe." he said. kneading your shoulders out harder from your request. it had gotten worse from there and you couldn't help the strange noises coming out of you. a string of 'ngh, yeah right there' and 'mm fuck Gally please keep going-' was let from your mouth. you squeezed your eyes shut and started gripping the sheets lightly to keep you from squirming at the pain.

the tent in Gally's pants was almost painful for him at this point. as he moved to your back, you practically screamed. "Okay, okay, that's enough I'm good." sighing as you felt alleviated. turning back around, you see him in the chair, quickly hiding his obvious boner. he has a shocked expression as he stumbles to try and leave the room, saying "I-I have to go-" you smirk, "Gally. You did something for me, it's only fair if I return the favor.." you get up from the bed, insisting he lays down on it. you climb on top of him, straddling his body and give him a peck on the lips. you take off his shirt and start trailing little kisses from his neck down to his v line.

"Can I take these off?" you ask, he hurriedly nods his head, eager for your touch. you pull his pants down, leaving him in underwear. wanting to tease him a little, you grind on him still fully clothed. "Don't tease me Y/N, please" you take his boxers off as you take in his length, it always manages to shock you. you grab his member, slowly jacking him off as you kitten lick his tip. he groans out, giving you motivation to make him feel good. you licked a long strip up his shaft, taking in as much as you can in your mouth, your hands touch what you couldn't. "Fuckk Y/N-" he moans out, which surprised you as he was never the vocal type. he grabs a fist full of your hair, pushing you down deeper. Gally loved how beautiful you looked, sucking him off. he rolled his eyes back into his head, "Holy shit- you know how much your voice turns me on Y/N?" this made you look up at him, still bobbing your head. "Just the way you look at me", he forces you down even deeper. "'m so good that you're only mine." that sentence makes you moan on his dick, sending vibrations that brought him to the edge as he groaned and came in your mouth. you jacked him off the rest of the way so most of the cum would be on your hands and face.

"I love taking care of you." you smiled at the boy.

"You look so pretty with my cum all over your face, I should give you massages more often." he smirked.

"Way to ruin the moment, Gal."

remember this is all on my wattpad <3 (link in bio)

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