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jaebeomsbitch · 4 months

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Slow (E.M.)

Summary: Only Eddie can cure the blues that cling to your skin like he’s balm made for your soul.

A/N: will publish the extended version later, just needed to get this out. Not edited!

Warnings: MINORS DNI YOU WILL BE BURNED AT THE STAKE, eating pussy, depression, cursing, making out

You’d been feeling sad for a while, there’s this unexplainable ache in your chest pressing into your ribs until you feel like they’ll almost crack. Eddie sees the way your eyes have dimmed. How could he not? You’d been living together for over a year now but he’s never seen you like this. So quiet, so demure. Yes you were introverted, sometimes having bouts of energy where you won’t shut the fuck up and it’s the cutest thing he’s ever seen. The way your eyes light up, you hands moving wildly.

So when you lay in your bed sheets quietly, no book in your hand Eddie looks at you with this sadness in his eyes. It’s not pity, it’s concern. His girlfriend so quiet, so meek, not eating. Fuck his heart aches seeing you like this. He crawls into bed softly asking what’s wrong but you don’t have an answer. You don’t know what’s wrong but this black cloud looms over you like your own personal rain cloud.

Eddie makes the ache better, he takes some of the pressure of your chest especially when he pulls you into his arms. His nose in your hair breathing in your shampoo, pale arms holding you tight as he rubs your back. He brushes a loose strand of hair behind your ear whispering “you’re so beautiful.”

You can’t help the way you automatically mewl under his big brown eyes, hiding in his neck like a safe haven. He holds you tighter against him, nuzzling into your hair again.

“Don’t hide from me,” he murmurs softly, breath warm against your ear. “I want to see those gorgeous eyes of yours.”

You reluctantly relent, cheeks pink as you slowly look up at your boyfriend. There’s a certain vulnerability in your eyes. He gives you a small smile stroking your cheek with his thumb as he grabs your face.

“It’s okay,” he says softly. “You don’t have to be strong all the time, y’know? I’m here for you no matter what sweetheart.”

“You make me shy when you say stuff like that” you whisper, not trusting you full voice and afraid to break the quietness between you two.

He chuckles softly, the reverberation dancing into your chest straight to your heart. “Then I’ll just have to keep saying it then,” he replies teasingly.

His hands trace gentle patterns on your back, it’s soothing but electric at the same time. Like lightning striking the sea. He leans in close to you, nose ghosting over the bridge of yours as he whispers, “I love you so much, princess.”

“I love you too” you manage to murmur back. It’s like you’re stuck in a trance. Your eyes flicker to his lips and back to his eyes as he closes the gap. Your lips move against each other in a dance full of love and understanding. Tongues gliding against each other as Eddie strokes your cheek.

“You’re so pretty” you whisper as you pull away from his lips. His cheeks flushed, lips half swollen, big brown eyes boring into yours.

He grins preening at the compliment squeezing you just a little tighter. “So are you, baby” he replies. His thumb stroking your cheek tenderly “you take my breath away,” he whispers pressing a soft peck to your lips. You hum softly, feeling the blues cling to your skin like rainwater but Eddie makes everything better.

He notices the faint hint of sadness still swirling in your eyes despite you trying to hide it, his lips curve into a frown. “Are you sure you’re okay, baby?” He asked gently moving to stroke your hair tenderly. “You don’t have to pretend for me, y’know. I’m here for you, whatever you need”

“I just want to be here in your arms” you whisper

He nods understandingly, pulling you closer against his chest as he holds you tight. He plants a series of soft kisses along your temple and down your cheekbone, his lips lingering on your skin as he tries to convey his love and support through his touch.

"I'm right here," he whispers softly, his words echoing the sentiment of his actions. "You're safe with me, always."

You sniffle, small tears droplets falling into his tattooed skin as you nuzzle into his neck. He wipes away your tears gently with his thumbs, his heart aching at the sight of your distress. "Shh, it's okay," he soothes, rocking you back and forth slightly as he holds you close. "Just let it out, princess. I'm here for you."

“I don’t want to be sad anymore” you whisper, your voice broken. You sound so defeated, you feel like a burden on Eddie.

He kisses your forehead tenderly, his own heart heavy with sympathy for your pain. "I know, baby," he murmurs softly. "And we'll get through this together, okay? You're not alone in this."

He continues to hold you close, offering what comfort he can through his presence and touch. After a few moments, he speaks again, his voice gentle and reassuring.

"Why don't we watch that movie you wanted to see earlier?" he suggests. "Maybe it'll help take your mind off things for a while." You nod but make no effort to move out of his arms. You want nothing but your boyfriend’s warmth and affection.You lay on his chest, legs tangled with his. It’s like he naturally radiates this sense of comfort as he puts on whatever random movie he found.

He feels your body relax in his as you sink further into his embrace. His heartbeat pounding underneath your ear providing a sort of lullaby, lulling you into a peaceful state. He plays with your hair aimlessly just wanting to remind you that he’s right there with you.

“I wish I could sink into you” you whisper unsure if that sounds creepy or not. He smiles down at you, his expression full of love and tenderness. "Me too, baby," he whispers softly, planting a gentle kiss on top of your head. "I never want to let you go."

You trace patterns onto his chest as Eddie pulls the duvet over the two of you knowing how cold you get. The two of you sit like this for a long while until you finally whisper “you make everything better.” You shift your face so you can look at him wanting him to know just how much you appreciate him, that you don’t take him for granted.

He meets your gaze, his own eyes filled with love and something else. "I hope so," he replies softly, brushing a stray lock of hair away from your face tenderly. "Because you mean everything to me, princess."

You lay your head on his chest, your eyelashes fluttering against his T-shirt with every blink. “Baby” you whisper.

“What’s wrong?” He asks softly

“I… I wanna feel connected to you” you whisper, cheeks flushing pink.

He feels a wave of tenderness wash over him at your admission, and he leans down to place a gentle kiss on your head. "We already are, princess," he murmurs softly, his voice thick with emotion. "But if you need something more...well, I'm yours for the taking,” he says with a grin on his lips.

“Please” you whisper.

“S’all I want” you murmur pressing a kiss to the underneath of his jaw. His fingers find your face, thumb slotting under your jaw to bring your lips to his. Your lips move against each other as you shift to make the angle less awkward. Humming softly as the warmth of his kiss spreads through your chest.

His arms wrap around your back as he licks at the seam of your mouth. It’s been a while since the two of you had just made out. He presses his weight on his right side making sure to hold you close as he gently lays you on your back successfully flipping your position.

You pull back panting faintly, Eddie swirls around you. His touch, taste, scent, clouding your vision as he crowds you, the soft sounds of his labored breath singing in your ears as he leans down to press wet open mouthed kisses to your neck. You croon pressing your head into the pillow to bare your neck to his mouth. Your fingers brush through the soft curls on his head, mussing the tight ringlets.

“I love you baby” he whispers, husky voice and all like Smokey whiskey injecting straight into your veins.

“Love you too” you say breathlessly as your head spins in a flurry of tenderness.

His fingers trace over your clothes, “can I take these off sweetheart?” He whispers. His index and thumb pinched on the thin fabric of your pajama bottoms.

“Yes” you nod looking down at your boyfriend. His hair sticking in every direction, veined hands pulling down the soft fabric off your hips, big brown eyes drinking in every single detail of your face. You lift your hips as he drags down your pajamas almost agonizingly slow but you’re not in a rush, not even when the tips of his pinkies hook into your panties bringing them down too.

He’s careful when he removes your clothing off your feet, successfully throwing them into the hamper before looking down. His pupils dilating, pink tongue licking his lips like a man starved seeing his meal for the first time in a while. He lays on his stomach, big hands grabbing the backs of your thighs.

“This okay?” He murmur, eyes flicking up towards yours. He needs your permission, wants desperately to give into your whims and quell the sadness that hangs over you. Not that he can see much of it right now. Not when you’re looking at him through half lidded eyes as your chest rises subtly. You nod letting out a breath trying to calm your racing heart down.

He crawls closer pulling your legs open and groaning as you’re exposed to his hungry gaze. He dips his face forward like he’s smelling freshly cut daises, nose pressed to your pussy. Your fingers curl around the sheets with a sharp gasp, eyes fluttering closed until Eddie asks you to open them. You swallow hard in embarrassment, Eddie always liked maintaining eye contact during intimacy but you’re still left very raw and vulnerable.

“I’m right here baby” he whispers, fingers finding yours in the crumpled sheets, intertwining his much larger hand with yours. Your eyes flutter open at his tenderness, dark pupils finding your matching ones as he presses a kiss to your inner thigh. You squeeze his fingers back as a wordless ‘okay.’

His free hand glides through the fabric with a whooshing noise, thumb and index finger opening up your pussy to his gaze. This time he swallows hard, seeing your pussy wet and attentive for him. Your clit glistening in your arousal like a shiny pearl in an open clam.

He dips his face forward, the familiar feeling of his hair tickling your inner thighs already making your heart race but as soon as his tongue flatly traces up your slick entrance you swear you could die and go to heaven. You squeeze his hand tighter as you moan softly, a grin adorning Eddie’s face as soon as he hears it. He’s fucking elated that you’re letting him take care of you when you’ve been feeling this down.

The tip of his tongue swirls expertly around your clit teasingly, your eyebrows knitting together immediately. You sigh that is until, he applies more pressure to your clit. A small noise escapes your throat as you press your head into the pillow again.

“Taste so sweet, baby” his voice husky and low, cool like amber.

“So fucking perfect” he whispers as he lays his tongue flat against your clit, licking continuous stripes over it until he coaxed out those familiar whines from your lips. His tongue finds its way to your entrance, the tip of it working you open until he’s got his tongue inside the bumpy walls, nose brushing against your clit as he tongue fucks you making sure to go slow and gentle. He wants you to feel how much he fucking loves you.

It isn’t long until your thighs are trembling on either side of his head, more whimpers and moans mixed with broken curse words leave from deep in your lungs. They fill the gap, slowly inflating the ache in your chest until the cavity is smooth and your ribs are back in place. Of course you’re not healed for life but Eddie will be there to fill the gap.

You feel so loved, eyes burning with happy tears as your fingers squeeze his tighter. A final breathless moan leaves your parted lips as your back arches off the bed ever so slightly. It is not dramatic, there’s no screaming, no neighbors banging on the door for you to shut up. It’s your body trembling as your fingers tug on the bedsheets, it’s patient and kind and warm. It’s Eddie, it’s you, it’s your love. It’s everything you need.

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gracelynguyen · 2 years

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tag dump

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proxycrit · 3 months

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Part 1 / Part 2

Emmet remembers when he and Ingo first brought Elesa to explore Celestial Tower, back when they were fourteen and thought they were immortal.

“Allegedly, the bell chime will bring ghosts home”, ingo had told emmet with the pompous knowing energy of a child who read way too much brochures. “It’s culturally significant! We must ring it.”

“Hmmm,” emmet had responded suspiciously. “Brother. The bell is at the top of the tower.” The implication stands: Ingo, there are thirty flights of stairs between here and the top, and no elevator to speak of.

Don’t be a coward, Litwick had told Emmet with the blaise tone of somebody who’s going to be piggy backing off of somebody else. Go ring the bell. Tynamo, sensing a litten fight, floated towards a loitering blitzle.

Ingo turns his lilipup eyes on Elesa, who’s squinting at the carved stone faces of the front door.

“Elesa? What do you think?”

Elesa thinks. She shrugs. “We already made our way here,” she said in accented galarian. “Might as well make it the rest of the way. Ganbatte!”

Emmet sighs. “This is a mistake,” he tells the two in exhaustive patience, but lets himself be dragged into the building.

Last time the twins were here, Ingo caught litwick— but not before she managed to nab a good chunk of Emmet’s soul. It’s not terrible; he felt fatigued for a week and bounced back pretty quickly, but it was the principle of the whole situation— celestial tower’s a pain in the ass and Emmet will stand by that until the day he dies.

Like right now.

The map isn’t working. Emmet checked it once. He’s checked it twice. He’s taken out his pen and written on it, which he would usually never do but desperate times call for desperate measures. The compass he brought spins useless circles. It’s like chargestone cave up here, but worse because instead if electric pokemon it’s all ghosts.

“We’re lost, yyup yup!” He announced to the crew. “I vote we eat Ingo first.”

“I love you too,” Ingo told Emmet placidly. “But we all know between the two of us, you’re the tastier one.” Litwick gives Emmet a thumbs up. Emmet gasps in mock affront.

“Elesa, help!”

Elesa gives the two of them a wary look. It took two floors for her to realize this is not just a weird temple with strange rocks, but a full out graveyard. She’s not very happy about that development.

“Don’t drag me into this,” she tells them. “Teme wa urusaii.”

“I will take that as a compliment,” Ingo reports back.

Emmet, who’s cheerfully struggles with Galarian on a good day, simply gives her a thumbs up.

The three painstakingly crawl their way up. And up. If all else fails, Emmet told himself, at least they can orient themselves towards high ground.

“We’re like pidoves,” Ingo gasps. He has fallen behind them on the stairs, with Emmet taking the lead through sheer spite despite his legs going numb on floor twenty two. “We, hah, we are attracted by the magnet of the bell, like, like probopass-“

“I am emmet! You are not making, sense!” Emmet called back. Elesa, who’s stuck between them and looking two steps from perpetual collapse, giggles.

“No, no hear me out, Ingo wheezes. “What if the bell’s a magnetic pole? And that’s why your compass doesn’t wo, woo, hahh, work.”

Emmet stops to rest, just because Ingo is using precious breathing air to infodump. Elesa gratefully slumps against the railing. Tynamo and litwick, lazy in their still small size, have settled on a weary blitzle and look very smug doing so. (Emmet is not jealous, he tells himself. Emmet is also lying.)

“The bell’s important,” Ingo had repeated.

“Okay,” Elesa responds. “If it’s important to you, then it’s important to us.”

And Emmet finds that he agrees with Elesa. Partially because they crawled up twenty fucking three flights of stairs, but also because Ingo thinks this is important, so it is.

And here’s the thing—

— emmet doesn’t remember much after that.

The rest of that trip was a blur of exhausted groaning and burning legs, and by the time the trio managed to breach floor thirty, people’s brains have all but dribbled out their ears. Emmet remembers being disgustingly sweaty. He remembers blitzle almost tripping to death and litwick’s swearing. He remembers tynamo sticking to his neck like a damp towel. He remembers Ingo’s excited sneasel smile, and the way the sunset bounced off of Elesa’s hair.

He remembers the brassy ring of the Celestial bell. It sounded like victory.

But it was Elesa’s cackle turned scream as Ingo swiped cold hands down her neck that sounded like home.

—-

So when the conductor at thirty one, lost and disoriented in the Impossible Place, heard the sound of a familiar bell, ringing over and over and over-

-the sound of laughter-

-EMMET! Elesa cried-

-like a homing pidove, the conductor, thinks nonsensically as something in him perks up.

(Emmet had always liked winning, more than anything else, and the sound of victory calls him home.)

—

Elesa catches lightning in a bottle. Elesa, arms outstretched, finds purchase in her brother, and does not let go.

Emmet is so, so cold, Elesa thinks as the wind steals air from her lungs. (That’s okay. She’s already breathless from a terrible business called hope.)

Emmet stares back. His hands flap against Elesa’s jacket. Elesa desperately drinks in his wan face and too wide eyes and his frost bitten lips. In a tiny, meek voice, almost lost to the wind, he asks:

“Are you real?”

Elesa lets out an ugly sob. Her tears whip away in the wind as they fall. Emmet’s frightened countenance turns immediately to alarm. His shaky grasp becomes a solid grip as they spin through the air, cushioned by chandelure’s psychic.

“I think so??” Elesa warbles. She sees Emmet’s eyes dart to her mouth. He’s reading mirroring her, she realizes with giddy delight— it��s such an Emmet thing to do, to read lips, and-

“I am Emmet,” Emmet breathes. His eyes have started to water. “Yyou are Elesa- Oh dragons, Elesa!?“

Elesa reaches. Hesitates.

Emmet grabs elesa by the lapels and crushes her tight against him. Elesa holds on, and the grief and relief in her accumulates into a wet sopping mess. She’s ruining his jacket, she mourns, but its okay because he’s dripping all over hers.

She can’t hear what he’s saying into her shoulder, can’t read what he says, but everything’s okay because every part of her is chiming

You came back

You’re here

I’m not alone anymore.

Around them, the air distorts as Chandelure’s psychic wavers, flutters, and solidifies. Gravity reverses its call as they settle gently on the ground, dust billowing in all directions.

The ghost pokemon drops next to them, shaking so hard the musical clang of glass makes Elesa flinch.

You fucks, Chandelure gasps. DON’T GO LEAPING OFF BUILDINGS, I AM NOT YOUR EMERGENCY PARACHUTE.

“I’m sorry,” Elesa gasps, still giddy from the adrenaline.

AND YOU! Chandelure howls, whirling on Emmet, who’s still staring at the ghost with huge eyes. He’s gripping on to solid ground with the energy of a man who realized he could have been a splat on the ground.

YOU LEFT!

Emmet winces.

You- You left us, you left me-

Ah, ah no, Elesa thinks as golden globules of light shed from Chandelure. This is what a ghost looks like crying.

Emmet holds out his arms. Chandelure drifts into his embrace, and shakes, and shakes, and shakes.

You left me, the ghost pokemon whispers. How dare you. How could you.

“I didn’t mean to,” Emmet whispers. “I’m sorry.”

Stop doing this to me, Chandelure demands. Golden brine joins human tears, like drops of sun trapped in wet glass. Stop going where I can not follow.

And Emmet holds his tongue, because he knows he can not promise staying. Not while Ingo and Eelektross are still in Hisui.

(In the back of Emmet’s hurt and shattered mind is a spark. Synapses connect. The cold breach of the Distortion does nothing to drown out the sudden flare of hope in Emmet’s chest, so great he can not breathe, so strong he can not feel, because there’s a path. A difficult, painful path through the Space that Can Not Be, but a path all the same.)

“Elesa, Chandelure-“ Emmet’s voice breaks. He wants to tell them about Eelektross. He wants to tell them about the terrible past that is Hisui. He wants to explain how the last five months were filled with horror and wonder and fear and hope.

Hope, he thinks. So he says this:

“I know how to get Ingo home.”

NOTES:

AAAAAND THAT’S ALL FOR THIS DRABBLE. ITS OUT NOW. I CAN FINALLY GO BACK TO POSTING HAPPY SHENANIGANS! (Now you know the shape of their story.)

Thanks for reading this monster of a post!

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ann1-wr1tes · 3 months

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Babydoll, you need some Rock n' Roll!

Synopsis: You go to see one of your Rock n' Roll bands at a concert. Things get even better for you when you get to meet the one and only Leon Kennedy, lead singer of the band backstage. Things get interesting when you meet him later for an autograph.

Warnings: Smut, Adult themes, filth

Word Count: 2,620

A/N: Rockstar Leon = HOT! Also the moodboard is made by me!

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Leon felt his senses being overwhelmed as his vision was blinded with flashing lights and confetti, all he could hear was the constant sounds of the electric guitar humming and the screams of the fans that resided in the crowd. It was a great yet terrifying feeling, all at once. It made his entire body fill with adrenaline and it felt like he was high on it all as his fingers slid up and down the neck of the guitar, skillfully playing the chords as his voice rang out through the crowded stadium.

These were the moments he practically lived for. He just loved the spirit and the soul that came from the crowd every time he hit a certain part in the song or it was even amazing at how the entire audience started to sing along with him….it was all so exhilarating.

He eyed the crowd and he noticed a few girls in particular that practically squealed in their shrill voices as he smirked down at them. He was honestly surprised that they didn't faint right then and there with how one of them seemed to pale and the other one had the goofiest grin on her face, she was almost going cross eyed with excitement as he eyed them from the stage.

The way they were reacting gave Leon a sense of giddy delight, he couldn’t help but smile even wider in return, if anything he wanted to laugh. The two girls seemed absolutely infatuated with what was happening in front of them, they kept pointing and screaming things like “Look at his lips! And his eyes! They're soooo pretty!”, or “He has such a nice voice! It's so smooth! I think I might faint!"

Leon has to stop from chuckling as he turns back around and continues to strum on his guitar. The end of the song was approaching so he faced the huge audience once more and with the rest of the voice he still had left, he belted out the last lyrics, closing his eyes, leaning back slightly as everyone in the crowd marvels and watches in awe at the amount of raw talent Leon possessed.

When he finally finished the song, everyone cheered as he held his hand and guitar up into the air and said a quick thank you into the microphone before taking one more glance around the stadium and then vanishing backstage.

Almost immediately he has people walking up to him, complimenting him on his concert, handing him bottles of water, taking his guitar and going to put it away. He barely had enough time to just sit for a moment and breathe before he was informed that people were about to start coming backstage to meet him.

Leon quickly swigs down the rest of the water and right when he hears the muttering and not so quiet, girlish whispers from behind, he turns around with the best smile he could muster. Immediately he is met with screams and squeals that are loud enough to make his ears bleed. Then it was the pictures that they wanted to take with him and then he heard the whole, "i'm your biggest fan!!!" or "I love you so much!". It was always usually the same when he met fans, which he didn't mind but it did get rather repetitive after a while.

With a sigh, the group leaves and another group comes up to see him. It was all the same thing. The squealing, the pictures, the compliments, maybe a few autographs here and there, but as he talked to all the fangirls, he noticed one in particular that was a bit off to the side, watching.

You eyed Leon nervously. Maybe it was just because of how attractive he was or maybe you just didn't want to bother him but he you stayed off to the side, letting your friends cry and scream over him, while you just watched.

In all honesty, you just really enjoyed his music. Yeah it was a plus that he was hot. His hair was perfect, even when it stuck to his forehead from the excessive running around on stage and the adrenaline, his arms were so built and you could find yourself staring sometimes, and his hands…oh his hands. How they would just glide up and down the neck of the guitar as he played. He did it flawlessly and it was almost mesmerizing.

"So what about you? Did you like the show?" Leon asks, as he smiles at you through all your friends.

You suddenly realize that your eyes were glued to his arms since they were crossed across his chest and you could really see the pure muscle that he possessed. Now that you realized he was talking to you though, your face flushed and you let a nervous smile slip onto your face.

"Are you kidding? The show was great, you're super talented." you smile, trying to give some genuine compliments as your friends smile and snicker to one another. You really did mean the words though and even when you got a little flustered, you smiled, giving Leon a sudden warm feeling in his heart that he couldn't explain. He liked it. He liked you.

"Thank you, it means a lot." he responds, flashing you another blinding grin.

Your heart rate starts to increase and you feel your cheeks heat up. Why are you blushing so badly?! As soon as he saw you blushing, he just smirks as he notices your red face but doesn't say anything. Suddenly more people come up to him and he grasps your arm gently, grabbing your attention just for one more second.

"Make sure to catch me later before you leave so I can give you an autograph." He quickly states. You nod your head in slight giddiness and awe as Leon turns back around and greets more fans.

You definitely couldn't leave without an autograph…right?

-----

Leon's lips are hot on yours as his hands roam up and down your body, caressing, squeezing, exploring every inch of your skin as you grip onto his broad shoulders. Gosh how did you get here?

Well it started with the autograph. You stayed longer to get an autograph…that's the only reason why, just an autograph. But from there you both started to talk. Then the talking turned into playful flirting from Leon and god he just adored how easily you blushed. Then the next thing you knew you were under Leon, in his bed, with his hand and lips all over you. It felt like you were in heaven.

You're breathless and panting when he pulls away, leaving hot, wet kisses along your jawline and then down your neck, where you shiver and he laughs, nuzzling your neck again. It sends shivers up and down your spine.

"God, I've never wanted someone this bad in my entire life," Leon groans, as he presses himself against you, his lips trailing back up your jawline again. You can distinctly feel the bulge that is straining against his leather pants as you desperately grind up against him for some sort of friction.

His tongue traces up your collar bone and he nibbles on the skin, making you moan and arch your back against him. His hand snakes up to your ass and squeezes as he smirks at you through his own panting breaths.

Your shirt and bra had been long discarded, along with your pants which left you only in your panties. It would be embarrassing if your mind wasn't clouded with lust right now, but Leon seems to be enthralled as he takes one of his ringed fingers and trails it up and down your clothed slit.

You let out a loud mewl as you try to buck up into his hand, only for Leon to pull away smugly. You pout and whine loudly as he stares down at you, his gaze dark with desire and lust.

"Please! I…I need something, anything!" you beg as you grab his wrist. His eyebrow raises in amusement as he stares down at you and you guide your hands towards your dripping folds.

"Please Leon…please…" you whine.

"Well since you asked like such a good girl.." suddenly Leon moves your panties to the side and plunges two fingers into your cunt. You are practically blinded by euphoric pleasure as you feel his cold, metal rings meet with your heated, sensitive flesh. It has your writhing as he pumps his fingers in and out of you.

You can feel your walls tightening against his fingers, a small whimper escaping your throat as his thrusts became faster, harder and with each pump of his fingers your moans turn into loud, desperate cries as your orgasm builds.

Suddenly, Leon pulls his fingers out and you watch as he brings his fingers to his mouth and suckles, all while looking you right in the eye with zero shame. It's almost painful as you clench around nothing. Oh how you wished his fingers were still buried deep inside you.

"Stop..t-teasing.." you whimper, tears gather in your eyes as you continue to look up at him. His grin widens as he sees the way you try to keep control and you close your eyes tightly, clenching the sheets underneath your fists as you cling onto the last little bit of pride that you had left.

Suddenly Leon flips over, pushing you down further on the bed and you let out a muffled yell from surprise as he grips your hips and starts to grind against you.

"This what you wanted?" Leon growls into your ear. He knew exactly what he was doing. He knew you wanted more, he just wanted to hear your pretty little begs and cries as he gave you a little taste of what you truly desired.

While the friction felt good, you wanted more. You desperately tried to buck your hips back up against him and when that wasn't enough you panted and gripped the sheets even tighter between your hands. Leon thought that was gonna burst right then and there. You looked so desperate, so pathetic.

"Oh what? Is this not enough for you, doll?" Leon says, teasing you even more as he grabs a handful of hair and turning your head to the side so he could see all your cute little facial expressions and hear your whines.

"N-No…need your…need your cock…" you mutter against the pillow.

"Sorry sweetheart. What was that? You may need to speak up." Leon says in a mocking tone as he continues grinding against your core with more pressure.

"Ugh! I said…need…you to fuck me." You manage to squeak out with shaky breaths.

"Ah~ sounds like a lot for a tiny thing like you." Leon says and you hear a low chuckle, causing you to slightly open your eyes to look at him and glare lightly. "What? Don't glare at me princess~" Leon says, with a grin.

Before you can retort, he abruptly stops grinding against you and sits up a bit to start undoing his pants. He does so slowly as you watch, almost giving you a show as he finally slips off his pants, leaving him in his black boxers that have a little wet patch of precum on the front.

You watch as Leon looks you in the eye and he starts to palm himself in front of you, closing his eyes and letting out a moan when he feels the friction of his own hand. Leon can feel himself becoming more desperate so not wanting to waste anymore time he pulls down his boxers and groans as his swollen cock slaps against his stomach.

Leon then leans back towards you, pulling your thighs apart as he rubs his cock in between your folds, trying to gather some of your slick as a lubricant.

"You ready?" he asks, making sure that you were fully okay with this. You don't even hesitate to nod quickly in desperation, ready to feel filled to the brim.

"I need an audible answer, baby." he coos.

"Yes! Please….I-I need you." you plead, your voice sounding strained and shaky as he chuckles.

With that, Leon slowly pushes inside, grunting as he feels himself filling your body. You're so tight that he can't even hold back some moans as he fully sheathes himself inside you.

Leon holds onto you tightly, resting his forehead against your shoulder as he shudders when you clench around him with an almost pornographic moan. It's not long until he starts moving, making quick, steady strokes as he lets out heavy breaths, feeling so good, so euphoric.

"Ah…I'm fucking close already…fuck!" Leon whispers as he begins to thrust a bit more harshly into you.

You can barely even make a response as you practically moan into the pillow under your head. You buck your hips up against his in an attempt to match his thrusts as he leans his weight against you a bit more, feeling the pleasure build up in his body quicker than he thought.

Your hands move from the sheets to Leons wrists that are planted on both sides of your head as he tries to keep himself stable. Out of neediness, you grip onto his wrists and Leon slips his hands down to intertwine his fingers with yours.

"Fuck! Leon!" you cry. Your back arches into the bed and your eyes roll up into the back of your head as Leon hits a certain spot inside you that has you seeing stars.

"Shit! That feel good, baby?" he asks. You give an incoherent noise in response, which makes him laugh softly before continuing to fuck you roughly, sending waves of pleasure through both your bodies as he goes deeper and deeper each passing moment.

You can feel the knot in your belly start to tighten and you know that your about to get the release you've been begging for.

"Ah! Mmmhh, L-Leon…m'gonna cum." You gasp out.

"Yeah? Be a good girl sweetheart and cum for me." Leon groans, pulling out before slamming back inside, hitting a certain spot inside you once again, making you cry out loudly. With a few more thrusts you are practically blinded with pleasure as you can feel your hot release gush around Leon's cock, squeezing around him.

"Fuck!" Leon moans. He nuzzles his head against your shoulder as you ride out your orgasm, but the way you were clenching around Leon made him teeter off the edge as well, being thrown into his own world of bliss as he shoots his warm seed into you.

He falls on top of you afterwards, panting and trying to regain his senses as he feverishly presses kisses against your shoulder and neck. His hand even comes up to trail across your heated skin and run through your hair. He closes his eyes with his heavy breaths fanning across your back, making you shiver.

"That….was amazing." Leon breathlessly says.

"Tell me about it…" you pant in response.

"So uhh, this may be awkward timing but you wouldn't maybe wanna go get some dinner later or something….would you?" he nervously mutters into your shoulder.

You can't help but giggle a little as your lips curl up into a smile.

"I'd love to." you murmur happily. He lets out a sigh of relief as he wraps his arms around you and gently places a kiss in the crook of your neck before planting another soft one on your cheek. You can't help but flush in response and you also just realize that you just got fucked by THE Leon Kennedy and asked out by him.

Boy oh boy, were your friends were gonna be jealous.

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil smut #resident evil x reader #leon scott kennedy #leon x reader #resident evil imagines #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy #leon s kennedy x you

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wandagcre · 3 months

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What do you think abt Sam (non g!p) has the first time with her gf and she cums first (and gets very embarrassed afterwards, cuz she didn't even need to be touched for that!)

first time | sam carpenter 🔞

(Sam Carpenter x Fem!Reader)

Sam never understood the clichés of firsts, until you – the only one that mattered.

WARNING: make out session, fingering, first time - set in Scream universe | 18+ men & minors dni. Words: 1.1k Note: the softest smut i have written yet ahh enjoy! <3

"Fuck," Sam gasped, breathless as you were. "You feel- it's blowing my mind..." she tilts her head and slips in her tongue.

A small smile escaped your lips, knowing how the woman couldn't compose her words properly at your intense make out sessions as this. you let her in, finding her eagerness adorable. The soft rubs of your thumb on her nape only reeled Sam further to your touch. She takes off your top and the hunger in her motion made you arch your neck.

You slow down a little and Sam is tad confused but it doesn't stop her. Her own lips chased yours as you pull away and it didn't faze Sam, who continued caressing her hands onto your bare torso.

You and Sam had barely left one another enough for your lips to become numbed with the well-known dance that has been going on for minutes now. Her eyelids fluttering as she's wrapped in a dazed sensation – the rustling of your limbs against each other and touching and seeing you – has left the entirety of Sam scorching hot.

"Baby, baby," you moan in muted tone. The pit of fire in Sam’s stomach continues to burn, although she finally looks at you in concern.

"Are you okay? we can stop anytime,"

The tenderness is palpable on her doe eyes. You can't resist but run a finger softly on those hooded eyelids.

"Funny how i was going to ask you the same thing. You beat me to it," you say with a crooked smile. Your hands loosely wrapped around her waist and somehow, Sam’s body reacted too enthusiastically, and it made her hips buck onto your front. "Someone's excited."

"I can't help it, you know that too well, querida..."

"And I can definitely attest to that." An inevitable grin breaks out of Sam’s pretty face. It's so easy with you. "I’m all in, baby."

"I am, too. all in. I love you," Sam murmured as if she was in a daydream, stroking your cheek.

Sam drinks the appearance that beholds her. Your skin so soft and delectable, that she failed to keep her hands off you. The creases in your face with your gentle smile. Your soul that welcomed her without a hint of prejudice; paired with your eyes that relayed nothing but acceptance and love.

How Sam got lucky with you is lost on her.

Sam pulled you in once again, the softness gritting into a deplore of conviction; wanting to express how much you mean to her – cheesily enough, you are her world now.

Unfortunately, it also meant she had grown ridiculously damp. a stretch of her lower limb would make it seep much worse. She feels the electric coursing through her veins, prickling soundly onto her sensitive areas. She feels bare and vulnerable in all forms, you didn't even have to touch her that much for her to come undone.

It was mind blowing how Sam haven't thirsted this much to her previous partners before. Even with your limbs intertwined and skins grazing upon another, it simply wasn't enough. Sam is constantly chasing for more.

"I want to have you first," you breathed softly on Sam’s ears to her surprise, making her temperature rise even more. "Please, let go for me, Sammy. I promise to take care of you."

You look at her with glossy eyes, filled with devotion. How can Sam ever say no to you?

She nods with no reluctance to your glee. Oh god, this is happening. Sam feels your fingertips along her abdomen, touch so incandescent, that it made her muscles contract, as it makes its way further down to your goal.

When the heel of your palm laid on her lower stomach, fingers stretching in to go underneath her underwear, Sam felt herself vividly ooze a palpable amount of wetness that made her heave out of breath – thigh muscles spasming that she can barely move.

She rasped a moan as she laid her forehead on your shoulder.

"Are you okay, Sammy?" your eyes went wide in concern.

She weakly laughed. "Yeah, yes. Shit i think– this is unreal. I just came. I surely just felt it," she retracts her hold around you to cover her face in embarrassment. "Now I feel ridiculous. that- that wasn't supposed to happen,"

You looked at Sam bewildered at the news she had dropped.

"Baby, no, no. look at me," you shook her by the shoulder gently and cradled her face. "That's nothing to be shy of. If anything, I’m happy to make something as sex not only pleasurable by means of aggressive throes of lust, but comfortably mind-blowing to you."

It took a while for your words to sink in for Sam. She bit her lip, nodding in agreement. Sam looks at you straight in the eye. All she saw was comfort. Safety. Love. All of which resounded strongly when it comes to you. Slowly, the feel of embarrassment ebb out of her system.

This wasn’t a quick fuck, nor a casual thing. You weren’t cheeky and condescending as the other men she had encountered.

Sam felt like she mattered for once – as though she wasn’t a meat or a conquest.

The thought wasn’t lost on you as Sam looked at you in wonder and it breaks your heart. You decide to grasp her hand and place gentle kisses on her knuckles. The same hands that have gone through unimaginable violence, yet it’s gentle and slightly trembling in your hold.

"Thank you, mi querida."

The kissing resumed as your fingers also continued making its way to the depths of Sam’s crevice. The pad of your fingers that she ushered for you to rub harder had sent her on the edge. The soft gasps of excitement and pleasure, Sam couldn't take it.

Every touch had her entirety reeling, as though you had her absolved all her sins. Nothing else mattered.

"Listen to me, you're doing great. You look... beautiful."

Albeit it came rarely, Sam was somewhat desensitized to praises. But yours were raw and innocent. Sam feels her heart thumping louder than ever.

"Always a charmer,"

From there, she cants her pelvis closer to you, rocking her hips to the newfound rhythm – riding your fingers. All Sam can think about was your name. She met your thrusts and each time, you never failed to give her praise. I love you, I love you, I love you -- you confess, akin to worshipping a deity. The open mouthed kisses on her sternum and chest that you spread all over her, has made Sam's head spin. You simply understood how vulnerable and hard it was for the woman to let go. Sam swore she felt heaven – it made her surrender all her strength completely under your touch. She has never known a safer place as yours.

Wet enough she was, and this time both of you couldn't hold back your smiles, complemented by neediness, as you make love for the first time.

do not repost/translate on other sites. © wandagcre

#gg.writes #sam carpenter x female reader #sam carpenter x reader #sam carpenter x fem reader #sam carpenter smut #samantha carpenter #sam carpenter x y/n #sam carpenter x you #wlw #lesbian #requested

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superhoeva · 10 days

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𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 – 𝐜. 𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐳𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐨 (𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟, 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭, +𝟏𝟖) | an oldie but a goodie. the song is nothing can change this love by sam cooke. warnings include language, carmen being scared of good things, bodily fluid (mentioned), subby!carmen, soft fdom!reader, edging, and blowjob(s), handjob(s). pretty please reblog with a thought if you liked! <3 (wc - 3.3k)

The request has his brain short-circuiting because what?

“I said dance with me, Carmen.”

The look on his face–eyes blown wide and wild, expression something close to startled–tugs your mouth into a grin.

“Dance?” His face pinches as he repeats the word that feels foreign falling off his tongue. He doesn’t dance. He’s never danced. “I don’t dance. I’ve never danced.”

You can only grin wider. Gosh, he’s cute. The way his curls fall into his face, the steam that previously soared off the pan of chicken that now sits in the oven you can thank for that. Carmen’s eyes–no. His electric, striking, bewitching orbs of Nordic stare into the depths of your very soul as you slink from your spot against the counter and ease over to him. They’re full of fascination and a little hesitancy, but he doesn’t flinch when you reach for his hands.

He glances down at the way your skin heats his. When he raises his gaze, you’re even closer. His tongue slips out to wet his bottom lip, and he quietly repeats, “I-I don’t dance, sweet thing. And the chicken, the foods in the oven, I gotta make sure it doesn’t–”

A gentle squeeze of his hard shoulder quiets him. He blows out a sigh.

“You just put it in, Bear,” you remind him, and he sighs again. “Please just indulge me for a little bit? Thirty seconds tops.”

Carmen sniffs, thinking. You take the second to start the song you’d queued up. The soft entrance of a slow, swinging piano and bass and guitar through a nearby speaker startles Carmy back into reality. His chest rises with a tight breath at the voice that fills the room, and his entire body stiffens when you politely guide him closer to you.

He focuses intently on the way your palms slide up his arms. You stop at his biceps and rub your thumbs in a calming motion.

“It’s just, I’ve never,” he tries, hands squeezing into tight fists, completely unsure. “Never done this before.”

You nod because you want him to know that you hear him.

“I know, Carm.” You keep nodding, grasp slipping to grab his stiff arms and pull them down. They take on a mind of their own, automatically settling onto your hips. “But all you have to do is sway, okay? Just sway for thirty seconds. If you don’t like it, we can stop.”

So that’s what he does. And he’s as tense as you’ve ever felt or seen him. But he indulges you. And sways for much longer than thirty seconds.

Carmy doesn’t even notice when his eyes close, forehead tilting to press into yours. His grip becomes a little more sure and the time that passes seems to seep all the rigidity of his body right out.

By the chorus of the song, the two of you are moving in an effortless sync. He’s nearly wrapped all the way around you now, body pressed against yours as the weight of him sinks against you. It isn’t until the guitar solo that he pries open his eyes, face warming when he realizes you’re already looking back.

“I like this song,” he finally mumbles, voice small. “What is it?”

“Nothing Can Change This Love,” you whisper back. “Sam Cooke. One off his ninth album, I think.”

Carmen hms with a little nod. “Sam Cooke.”

“Yeah.”

Carmen’s face lights up with a closed-mouth smile. You match him, body shaking with the huffing laugh that leaves you. When the song ends, neither of you has the strength to pull away. You stand with your arms around his neck. Only now registering that, despite the absence of any music, you’re still swaying. With Carmen leading.

“...Can, uh, can we keep dancin’? Just for a little longer?”

He doesn’t meet your gaze when he asks, eyes tilted downwards. Tightening your arms, you reach and press a long, sweet kiss on his jawline. His eyes threaten to flutter shut at the feeling.

“‘Course, Bear. What song?” You mumble against Carmen’s skin. He doesn’t answer right away, instead taking a finger under your chin and directing your mouth to his. Pausing in his dancing, the man kisses you deep, needy. He only pulls away when his lungs force him to, but only enough to shake his head.

“No song. Just you.”

The words pull forth a smile with your nod. Carmen, eyes dancing across every inch of your face, returns the smile shyly.

This time when you dance–to the muted sounds of a busy evening that pour in through a closed kitchen window, the low-frequency hum sung by the building's electrical system, and the breathing of two intertwined souls falling deeper in love–Carmen holds you even closer. Tighter, with his eyes closed once more and chin sitting atop the skin of your shoulder. You smell like him and you, a perfect mix of something familiar and something newer that makes him feel like he’s floating.

In the past, good things have always scared Carmen. They still do, as they always come along with uncertainty. Happiness, joy, enjoyment, good things never fail to backfire and leave him to deal with the unfavorable repercussions. Stuck in a place where he is forced to face the fact that he shouldn’t have good things. That he can’t have good things.

Yet, as he stands here, you in his arms and him in yours, the tranquil air of the room lowers his guard. The pleasant, happy feeling in his everywhere allows him to enjoy this. Enjoy you. Enjoy the safety you bring without any dreadful feelings trailing behind it. He’s sure they’ll come sometime later, but he doesn’t think about that now because he doesn’t need to. You’ve got him.

It’s later after a hearty dinner of chicken with vegetables and half an hour of you watching some rerun on the television while Carmen watches you, that he has enough courage gathered to bring up something that’s been on his mind.

“You, uh…” he begins, finger rubbing aimless circles into your thigh while he’s slumped against you, “you remember when we talked about that thing?”

Puffs of air pepper gently from your nose as you process the words. You turn your head to Carmen.

“What thing, baby?”

Carmen swallows, clearing his throat. He raises off you but doesn’t meet your gaze. His eyes stay trained on his hand where he squeezes your leg to steady himself.

“Uh. That thing we talked about last week? With the, uh, the stuff.”

Carmen bites his lip at your growing smile and pinched eyebrows. He even has to hold back a laugh himself because the way he’s trying to say this sounds so stupid.

“Sorry, the stuff. The… sex… stuff.”

His voice trails off into nothing as he finishes the sentence, neck reddening when he pushes out the words. He holds on bated breath when you shuffle and think.

“Oh,” you let out, voice light. Carmen finally regains the ability to breathe. “You mean the whole edging thing I asked you about?”

Carmy is nodding before you can even finish the sentence. “Yeah. Yeah, that… is-is tha–is that something you’d still be, uh, up for, I guess?”

You draw in a long exhale, eyes cemented on a fidgeting Carmen. After what feels longer than the seven seconds that pass, you give him a gentle nod.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you reassure him. “Can I ask you, though, why bring this up now, Bear? Not that I’m mad or grossed out or anything because I was the one that brought it up the first time. But what made you start thinking about it again?”

Carmen sighs and runs his fingers through his curls. He scratches the top of his head, pursing his lips before he speaks.

“When we, uh, we danced earlier? Before dinner? That was new, I’ve never really done something like that before, but it was nice. I really liked it, doing something new with you like that.”

As he continues, Carm’s voice becomes a little less wobbly. He sits up a little straighter and actually looks you in the eye.

“And it’s just, I-I feel good. I feel really good right now with you. I always feel good with you, and I think that, uh, I think that it–the sex thing–would be something I enjoy. With you. Because of how… how good you make me feel.”

A beat passes. Carmen scrunches his face. “Did that make sense?”

“Yeah, Carm. That makes perfect sense,” you smile, your hand reaching over to take his. His thumb strokes across the skin of your palm as he stares at you with an amount of love that has you shuddering. You pull your voice down to a whisper. “Thank you for telling me that.”

Carmen moves and pulls you closer. With an arm around your shoulder and lips pushing against your cheek, he whispers back, “Thank you for dancing with me. And for making me feel safe.”

“Love you, Bear.”

Carmen gifts you another kiss.

“Love you more, sweet girl.”

The sheets are soaked–with sweat or lube or something. Carmen is too far gone to know what, but he can feel them sticking to his back as he arches for a third time in the past minute. His hands–the ones he promises to keep lowered against the bed–are fisted tightly at his sides.

“Fuck,” Carmen drawls out, quivering and shaking because he’s so, so close. Teetering on a glorious, head-spinning edge, and has been for the past thirty minutes. “Fuck, sweet girl.”

You smile at the whimper that leaves Carmen’s throat. One of your hands is snug around the base of his cock, the other up near his sensitive head. His hips jerk violently when you run the pad of your thumb over and across his frenulum.

“I’m close, I’m close, I’m close,” Carmen rushes out, head back and eyes shut completely. “Shit, I’m close.”

You slow your movement, soon coming to a complete stop. Giving his shaft one last squeeze, you pull your hands away and move them to rub his clenching things. You lower yourself even further and rest your chin against his hot skin, pressing light kisses onto his sack.

“Color?”

Carmen can’t answer. Your mouth is so close to him that he can feel the air fan against his cock and it jumps at the sensation. Even with his eyes closed, he blinks and fucking barely remembers to swallow the spit collecting in his mouth. When he tries to respond, his own gasp cuts him off.

“Can’t keep going until I have a color, my love–”

“Green. Fucking green,” Carmen tells you. “And sorry. Sorry, didn’t mean to cut you off, just-just please. Please keep going. Please.”

On his last please, he lifts his head to peek down at you. You’ve got such a pretty smile and your hands are still on his thighs and jeez, he feels so good. You make him feel so good, it burns.

All of the fluids mixing on Carmen’s skin has made him slick. You run your hands up and up and up until they reach his shining sack. Your thumb and pointer finger reach to form a make-shift cock-ring, and Carmen’s stomach rises with a large inhale.

Carmen’s eyes roll back lazily in his head, mouth falling open when your palm presses back against his cock. A choked groan pours from him as you start to stroke.

You make sure to move your hand as slowly as possible, and his body ends up rising and following you when you tug upwards. You repeat the motion again. And again. And again, each time a tiny groan leaves Carmen.

Your grip is gentle as you stroke Carmen and you find yourself unable to look away from the sight in front of you. He’s writhing, muscles tense and clenching, and wants so badly to fuck up into your hands. But he doesn’t and won’t. Not until you say he can.

“Oh, my God,” Carmen whispers, “feels so good. Can’t even talk.”

“Don’t have to talk, baby,” you promise him, hand speeding ever so slightly, and Carmen nearly lets out a sob. “Just breathe for me, okay?”

Carmen forgets to nod and then forgets his name when your grip moves upwards, secured tightly around his pulsing head. You stroke, harder and faster, Carmen’s breaths turning into pants. You move deliberately, making sure the skin of your fingers doesn’t leave the top of his cock.

By this point, he’s leaking out large beads of pre-come and something in you can no longer resist.

The ah Carmen releases is loud and it startles him. He loses the fight against his hips and they surge forward when you swipe your tongue directly over the opening in his tip. He lets out another noise, something long and whining, when you envelop his entire head.

“Close,” is all he can spit out. You leave him with one last circle of your tongue before pulling off, and he whines again. Your hands still, allowing him the time he needs. After a few moments, he gives you a short nod to continue.

“Good boy.”

The words set Carmen aflame. They’re small and quiet but echo in his head like thunder. It thrusts him to the brink of his long-awaited orgasm, your resumption of kneading of his cock only pulling him closer.

“I need to cum, sweet girl. Fuck me, I need’ta come. Can I come, please?”

Your pussy, soaking and also leaking onto the sheet beneath you, clenches around nothing at the request. As you answer, you bend and glide your tongue across him once more.

“Not yet, my love.”

Carmen moans but obeys and it’s so hard. He’s so hard and your stroking and licking and moaning against him. Looking at him with those eyes that he loves to get lost in. He’s tingling all over and doesn’t even bother to hold back whatever sounds exit him anymore.

You’ve sped up even more now and he can barely take it. Carmen’s eyes fill with tears and the control he holds over himself. Dwindling second by second. He’s losing himself but it’s okay because he’s with you.

Somehow, Carmen manages to spew out broken moans between his erratic breathing.

“Please, can I come,” Carmy sobs out and he can feel the actual tears leaking from his eyes. “Please, baby? So, so close. I wanna come, please.”

You take a long second to answer, wanting to hold him out until the very last second. Squeezing your hands a little tighter, breaths heavy and deep as you stare over Carmen.

“Go ahead,” you order over the squelching sounds of your drenched grip around his throbbing cock. Carmen groans loudly, mouth pulled tight.

“Yes?” He rushes out, making sure he’s heard you right. Part of him hopes it was just all a part of his imagination because he wants this feeling to last forever. Here, with you. Barely hanging on. Body tense and vibrating with this bliss.

“Yes,” you repeat louder, and there are not three seconds before Carmen’s entire body constricts and he lets out a wail. It seems to last forever and grows even louder when the first rope of cum spurts out of him.

Your mouth parts in semi-shock at the sight. He pumps out string after string, body glowing as he jerks and jolts against you and the bed. Whatever leaves Carmen’s mouth is so far from any intelligible words. Just a string of curses that melt together as he keeps cumming.

“Fuuuck, yeah. Ah, sh… shit, holy fuckin’ shit, feels so good.”

You only slow when his hand finally reaches up to gently grab your wrist. Even through the aftershocks and his last few beads of cum leaving him, he squeezes you tenderly. A long hiss leaves him when your hands slowly release his wet cock, and he lets out one last groan when the air of the room hits him.

Both of your pants are the only sound in the room. Carmen’s eyes have been shut for the better part of the last two minutes and he doesn’t have any strength to lift his head to look at you.

Somewhere in his blurred haze, Carmen feels your weight shift from on top of him to beside him. You feel both near and distant as you press kisses on his sweaty forehead. He isn’t sure but it sounds like you mumble something about you running to the bathroom and grabbing something for him.

Carmen doesn’t know if it’s seconds or years before you return, but the warm, wet feeling on his stomach and chest pries his open. He watches you in silence as you rub a damp cloth across him to clean off the fluid drying on his middle. Each wipe is followed by a small peck of our lips and it has Carmen’s eyes closing again.

He’s nearly sleeping by the end of it and you grin at the sight.

“Keep those eyes open a little longer for me, Bear, okay?”

You get nothing from him a smile again as you grab the water bottle set on the bedside table. You pop it open and use a delicate finger on his chin to pull him from his light sleep. When his eyes meet yours, he gives you a small hi.

“Hi, Bear,” you greet him quietly. “Need you to sit up a little and drink half of this for me. Pretty please.”

Carmen moves in a dreamy trance, raising slowly from the bed and onto an elbow. You help him hold the bottle, and he ends up chugging most of the liquid once he realizes how thirsty he truly is.

“You need some, too,” Carmen mutters after pushing away the water, but you shake your head and urge him to keep drinking.

“I’m okay, baby,” you nod, and he eyes you before drinking the rest. He swallows and huffs out a breath. “You okay?”

Carmen lies back down because his limbs feel like jelly.

“I think so,” he begins, and you run a hand over his head to smooth down his hair. “Don’t think I can walk, though.”

You snicker out a laugh and Carmen’s eyes light up at the sound. The hand on his hair sneaks down to his cheek and settles there. “You did so good, baby. Really good, you were great. So proud of you.”

“You were great. Made me feel incredible. Always make me feel so good,” he tells you lowly, his own hand raising to feel yours against his face. His eyes flutter shut and he kisses your palm twice. “And thank you for doing that with me. I-I really liked it. A little more than the dancing.”

This time you both laugh.

“Also, uh, as soon as I regain feeling in my legs, I’m gonna make you cum so hard that you’re the one that won’t be able to walk.”

Carmen’s words are slurred and he’s exhausted. And his eyes are closing again before he finishes the sentence. But his sense of humor is still there. You withhold the loud laugh that wants to leave you, so as to not disturb him.

In his half-sleep fog, Carmen’s arms pull you down to lay next to him. He nuzzles his still sweaty head into the crook of your neck, settling strong arms around you as he falls even deeper into sleep. Managing to grab the nearby blanket and throw it over the two of you, you hold him tight and keep holding him. Even when his light snores start.

The sheets are still a mess under you, but they’ll get washed in the morning. The next few minutes are spent watching Carmen’s chest rise and fall. The pleasant ache of your dripping core fades into a warm fuzz.

And soon, you’re following behind Carmen and are off into sleep. Dancing throughout dream realms where Carmen is the tide, you are the sun, and your love for each other is the moon sitting prettily in between.

#carmen berzatto smut #carmy berzatto smut #carmen berzatto fluff #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto fic

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idesofrevolution · 5 months

Text

Never Sleep with Your Phone On

Throughout recorded history, humans have been terrified of the dark. They created stories of sordid creatures of the night that would creep out from beneath your bed and drag you to some subterranean lair to languish in your final moments; or slither out of your mirror if you left it uncovered when your lights were extinguished to steal your soul from your snoring lips. The tales and cryptids across all cultures were all effective in terrifying their communities once the sun set on the horizon. Though that is not necessarily to say that every tale was crafted from pure imagination.

When technology bloomed, humans believed that the horrifying superstitions of yore were long behind them. They had evolved past the primitive fears of what lurks in the shadows, where in reality they had become complacent, arrogant, and lulled. Certainly some of the eldritch creatures had subsided, as all creatures do eventually. Though for every dead legend, a new myth sprouts, and each of those grew and evolved right there along with us. Which, of course, brings us to Asher.

Asher West was, by all accounts, a fairly normal guy. Graduated from high school, going straight into college on a modest academic scholarship. He played frisbee golf with his friends on the weekends, studied hard from 9 to 5, and was seldom seen without a cup of Starbucks in the mornings. He had a sizeable social media following, as was expected for someone with a traditionally handsome visage and adequately charismatic personality. Every day he'd happily post a quick selfie, posting for his thousands of admirers a run of the mill shirtless pic, often without so much as a filter. It'd almost become muscle memory for him: tap the camera icon, snap the pic, post with some benign emojis as the caption, and boom. 900 likes as the day meandered on. Did it provide him with a momentary burst of endorphins? Yes. Was it satisfying? Somewhat, at least he thought so. Years of his staggeringly average life had been all but usurped by this second life online, where he was glamorous, exciting, and adored.

It was so much easier to live in that fantasyland than to truly be present in the real world around him. He, as many of us are, was living his life as someone else- and a life that spectacled easily caught attention. It was easy to come across him in the sea of countless names and faces. It was easy to stumble upon that pretty face. It was easy find, attracting more than just starry eyed fans. Skulking in the void between lines of 1 and 0, buried deep in the infinite cosmic vacuum of the world electric and technological, another pair of eyes would befall him.

It had slinked into his vast sphere rather quickly, and it had begun to watch. Watching each and every 'tasteful' selfie, every vapid thought that he'd post, and every like and pin he'd make, it watched him with empty, expressionless black eyes from within a fragment of his phone's memory. It studied him, curious at first. Things of its nature were always curious, always inclined to watch and analyze and replicate. Even as he slept, his phone siphoning it's charge from it's cable, it would read. The more it saw, the more it had learned about Asher. In fact, it knew more of Asher than perhaps he himself was aware of, if not able to admit.

It had seen those intimate moments he'd taken careful measure to hide from the vast majority of those watching eyes. Second accounts under pseudonyms, gave way to countless of hidden alternate lives he lived: Tumblr blogs dedicated to bad-boy thrist traps and queer erotica, Twitter accounts cataloguing pictures and videos of his closest kept kinks, a well used and well loved Chaturbate account with his face tastefully cropped out of frame... all these lives immortalized in the endless archives of the internet. And after all it's patient watching, all the hours of analyzing, all the months of consuming his information, it had grown an attachment.

Asher had come home late one night. Not unusual for him, as the occasional party wouldn't derail his real life ambitions. After a few libations, and no small amount of cannabis, he'd made his way back home to his small apartment above the corner store. Just as he'd done numerous times before, he stripped himself of his shirt, pulling his camera from his jeans pocket, and snapped a slightly inebriated picture of himself. It'd be enough to boost his ego the next morning, enough to power through the long haul of his draining daily agenda.

SNAP. The flash of the camera went off, and his beloved face was shared for all to see. Though, that night, he mis stepped. Perhaps it was the booze, perhaps it was the toke, perhaps he was simply too tired to notice that he'd left the screen on. By the time he'd hit the bed he was out like a rock, collapsed onto the bed and quietly drifting to sleep. There on the brightly lit screen, in the darkness of the unlit bedroom, it saw its opportunity.

From it's perch on the nightstand, the phone began to spark. Small sparks at first, a quick fizzle and quiet pop. Then more: louder, brighter, faster. It began to rumble against the wooden tabletop, sizzling and sparkling as it danced before the screen went black and dead. Slowly, electric crackling gave way to a bubbling sludge. The glass subtly started wave and bellow, as if it were liquified, not taking long to begin to spill over the edges of it's metal frame. The black sludge fell like oil onto the hardwood floors, collecting in a growing, bubbling pool.

From the primordial ooze burst forth a long, slender arm; it's taloned fingers scraping as it braced itself on the ground. A second arm clawed it's way out, and with an echoing slosh, it had begun to pull itself out of the sludge. It's long, emaciated torso and thick muscled legs had slithered out, landing on two massive, clawed feet. It towered above Asher's bed as he slumbered, bent over so as not to hit it's back onto the eight foot ceiling. It stood there, looking at the person it'd observed and studied for so long. The image presented in the world it'd pried himself out of was nothing of what lay before it. From what it had gathered from his more clandestine dealings, it had noted that he was far from the archetypes he'd collected on Asher's behalf.

He did not have the tattoos like those he'd pinned on Pinterest. He was not wearing the dark, heavy clothes like those he'd saved on Instagram. He wasn't well endowed like the video's he'd favorited on X-Tube. He didn't give off the aura of some rebellious casanova like the stories he'd reblogged on Tumblr. To a creature of symmetry and consistency, this was an error to be corrected; a dichotomy requiring integration.

It crouched down above his drooling maw, gently caressing his head to face it's clenching claw. The talons pressed ever so tenderly past his lips and over his tongue, becoming the very black ooze it had crawled out of once more. It flooded down his throat as it's second arm made it's way into his mouth, as if it were being sucked into Asher. He was drinking it's essence, it's aqueous body slurping down into his core. It's torso compressed as it wriggled down his gullet, ringing out splashing squelches as Asher gargled it down.

As quickly as it had entered, it's long legs slithered into his mouth, leaving only its large feet thrashing about in the air. Asher's stomach was bubbling and undulating under the sheer pressure from this invasion, growing to a large gut spilling over the waistband of his jeans. One loud slurp and a crisp pop, and the feet slipped into him, leaving his writhing body squirming on the bed. It expanded within him, incorporating itself into every fibre of his being. Pressing into his arms, his legs, pushing up his throat until it met the top of his palate. The pressure began to mount, black goo dribbling down the corners of his mouth, until a wet crack sounded in his cavernous head, and it flowed into his skull.

It took mere seconds for it to reach his brain, which it flowed freely into throughout the grooves and nooks. Entirely coated, imbued and inoculated with it, the deed was done. Asher opened his eyes, tiredly sitting up in his bed. He looked over at his phone, tapping it with his finger: 3 AM.

At first it seemed like a nightmare. He could recall moments here and there, though the majority of his 'dream' was a blur. From what he could remember, it was nothing visual he could recollect... but it he could recollect the sensations. Wet, slimy, invasive, and cold- much like he felt drunkenly sleeping in his cold sweat. He brought himself to his feet, dragging his feet on the slippery floorboards to his bathroom.

Flipping the switch, the harsh fluorescent light flickered to life above him, as he turned the nozzle on his shower. Immediately, his jaw nearly dropped to the floor. In the mirror, Asher finally caught a glimpse of himself: strange black bruises and undulating bumps were scattered across his body. That pristine, smooth skin was now covered in sprawling web-like lesions from head to toe. He had mere moments to process the horror reflected in front of him before an immediate pain in the gut had him doubled over the counter.

His stomach started to bubble and groan, and through the foggy haze of his blurred vision he saw his feet begin to ripple and swell. He could feel the slick sweaty soles slide across the tile floor as they expanded and grew. As they reached a substantial size 13, the swelling crept it's way up his calves and into his thighs. Asher wobbled on his feet, as if they were filled with gelatin beneath his slippery skin while his knees began to buckle. He collapsed into a crouch, the fumes of sweaty footmusk bellowing up to his nostrils as his legs cracked and stretched above. He'd never truly experienced scentplay as he'd so dearly fantasized about throughout countless hours of edging to such content, nor had this funk ever emanated from his own soles. In the moment, he felt something within him prod into his brain. As if poking the individual folds of his cerebrum with thousands of tiny needles, causing cascades of thoughts to enter his mind- all of which telling him to embrace. In his mind's eye, he could see himself burying his face into his sweaty sole, between his long toes, lapping up every droplet of sweat that was spewing from his pores. The thought was buried deep in his subconscious, pried out with expert measure, by something now within him.

Grasping for anything to steady himself on, Asher gripped the edge of the sink, pulling himself upright once again and now towering above the countertop. He hung his aching head low, watching with strange newfound fervor as his cock began to feel heavier and heavier. Drool started to drip from the bottom of his lip, landing square onto the lengthening shaft. Like a sandbag, his balls dropped and swelled while he got harder and harder. Another onslaught of pinpricks in his head brought forth another command: stroke.

Steam started build in the bathroom as the hot water continued to fall from the shower, intensifying the scent wafting from now both his feet and his pendulous sac. Each breath of hot, wet musk hit like ecstasy, and with bated breath, he softly grasped ahold of his python and began to pump. Each knead of his engorged member was accompanied by a change. His fingers grew long and sinewy, smooth and slick with precum. His arms remained thin but toned, growing longer and packed with lean muscle. His torso lengthened, topped off with a firm pair of pecs above his sinewy abdomen.

As pressure began to build in his balls, his mind began to feel the needles one last time, imbuing his brain with one last injection of a single trait: pride. He didn't need the approval of anyone else, he was aware of how fucking hot he was. He didn't need to heed the rules that society had straddled him with, he always forged his own path. He had no fears of recompense for his attitude, his ego, his spirit- the world would either stand with him, or he would step on top of them. Either way, what bliss. As the last of his inhibitions and fears had gathered in his groin, he cried out in elation as he erupted. Rope after rope of black sludge shot from his cannon, washing him with a sense of relief he'd never before known. He released his grip on his softening cock, hanging at an obscene eleven inches. He smirked at the sludge coating his mirror and pooling beneath his toes. A sight like that would have shocked and terrified the old Asher, though as he stood before his reflection, devoid of any tension, he relented to the entity within him. It had delivered onto him a new self, a new image, a new viewpoint. As tattoos both vulgar and delicate began to sprawl across his skin, he happily admired his new likeness.

The entity had bestowed a gift to him; throughout the horror, throughout the fear, he was becoming the true Asher that had only ever peeked out from the abyss of his psyche. He leered, bringing his thumb and middle finger together before snapping loudly. From his pores, the black sludge began to spill across his body until he was nearly covered from the neck down in what appeared to be a rubber suit before it began to become a bit more defined. A plain white tee shirt, classically fashioned with a black and white varsity jacket from his college. Skinny, weathered black jeans barely containing his sizeable commando bulge beneath it's thin fabric. On his feet, a pair of white socks and tightly tied high top Chucks, quelling the ripe stink of his soles within the sneaker for some sub to pry off and enjoy.

He grinned, posing and modeling for himself, before he finally turned off the steaming water. After the long, arduous, painful process, the entity had incorporated itself entirely within him- now completely indistinguishable from parasitic to symbiotic. It had rewritten him, completely remade him in the likeness of who he had shown the vast virtual world. There was no cognitive dissonance, there were no lies, there was no deception. All that remained was the Asher he had created in his fantasy, now ready to fuck the real world and all within it.

Thus, as our creature feature comes to an end, I leave you with a modicum of friendly advice. Don't leave your phone on as you slumber, for those that are watching, those that are waiting, those that have been learning are a mere sheet of glass away from finding their way inside. Take my counsel, or ignore it. But do so knowing the outcome, and whether or not you are prepared to weather such a storm.

#body transformation #male transformation #original #transformation #musk #punkification #punk transformation #body possession #body invasion #symbiote #male symbiote #virtual cryptid #virtual symbiote #college

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blue-slxt · 7 months

Text

Kinktober 9

🔞Minors Do Not Interact🔞

Kinktober Masterist

A/N: We need more queue play in this fandom. There, I said it. There's just not enough of it for my liking lol. I hope you guys enjoy this one. All characters are aged up.

Pairing: Neteyam x Fem!Human!Reader

Warnings: Accidental Stimulation, Queue Play, Kinda cute?

“Hey Neteyam?” you ask your best friend while he sat a little cramped on your bed. He had been flipping through some old books that you had lying around. He hums in response to you not really taking his eyes off what he was doing.

“I’m curious about something.” You say coming to sit in front of him. He finally raises his eyes to you and listen to your question.

“That one really long braid that you have, what does it feel like? Does it hurt?” you ask tilting your head a little.

He raises his hairless eyebrows in surprise. He knows that humans don’t have anything like it to compare to, but he never thought you gave it a second thought.

“You mean my kuru?” he asks. “It’s a little hard to describe, but it doesn’t hurt.”

He takes notice of the way your fingers fidget with each other in your lap.

“C-can I touch it?”

His jaw drops a little at your question. It has him a bit concerned because usually no one touches it just for the hell of it. He’s not even sure what that would feel like. He almost wants to say no. But the glimmer in your eye looking at it and the small squirm of your tiny body makes his heart too soft to deny you.

“Sure. Just be careful with it, yes?” he says.

You excitedly nod your head at him and a small smile sits on your face. Neteyam adjusts himself to turn to the side and you sit on the bed behind him eyeing the long thick braid that trailed down his back. Your fingers reach out to trace up and down it and Neteyam feels like his breath hitches in his throat a bit at your delicate touch.

You can’t see him, but his face is scrunched trying to understand this building tension in his body that came with the stroke of your small hand. You do your best to watch his body language for any sign that you’re hurting him, but you can’t see any so you continue. You gently grab the bottom and hold it in front of your face to watch the pretty pink tendrils whirl around violently in your grasp. You study them and the patterns that they move in. They dance around looking for something to grab onto and when your fingers get just close enough, they take hold of your digits and don’t let go.

Neteyam’s pupils blow wide open and he shudders at the contact.

“Shit, sorry. Sorry. It won’t let go.” You say afraid that you’re hurting him and wiggling your fingers trying to free yourself. Meanwhile, Neteyam feels like the air has been knocked out of him and is somehow getting incredibly hard at the same time. Normally, his kuru is for bonding with his ikran and the tree of souls, but having it touched and stimulated by your hand right now was sending jolts of electricity through his body and straight to his cock that pulsed with his increasing heartbeat under his loincloth.

“W-wait…” his voice comes out breathy and almost like a whimper. It’s mortifying for him, but you just think that he’s in pain and you desperately try to untangle yourself from him.

“Sorry, they’re really stuck on there. They don’t want to let me go.” You say tugging lightly on them and white spots dot his vision momentarily. Neteyam has to turn around and grab your wrist to stop you from accidentally making him cum right then and there. You stare back at him wide-eyed and worried about the flush on his face and how he was panting.

“Just relax and let me help you.” He says low and even. He holds your wrist and the end of his kuru and takes a few deep breaths before gently tugging them apart and the tendrils finally, reluctantly release your fingers.

You sheepishly hold your hands in your lap, “Note to self: don’t do that again. Sorry.”

“No no no, I mean, it wasn’t that bad. It was just more than I thought it would be.” He says deepening the stain of color on his face. “But you can do it again whenever you want. Just maybe don’t ask anyone else, okay?” His ears are flat against his head when he speaks and you're not sure you've ever seen Neteyam so unsettled before.

“Okay…?” you agree wondering if it might possibly offend anyone else that wasn’t Neteyam.

He ends up staying the night with you which was unusual for him, but you weren’t complaining. You loved his company. And he purrs himself to sleep resting his head on your chest while you stroke his head.

Kinktober Taglist: @pandoraslxna @ashlatano7567 @sincerelykaib @jamies-wh0re @quaritchsluts @jakescumdump @delacruzyari @onlyloaksgf @skywonder @taintedlovesworld @myloveforyouisforever @angie-1306 @moodays @childofgod-05 @hadesbabygurl @daddysmurfslefttoenail @loaksulluyswife @y4sm1nsstuff @thewhiltedpeony @lovefrommeelise @neteyamssyulang @rosyjn @imintoomanyfandomscuzihaveadhd @anaclaudiasugar @xxwelshqueenxx @hania11 @xylianasblog @idkanymoregirl @eyrina-avatar @biscuitsaredelish @quinn-sadilla @the_mourning_moon @eyweveng @puddleswimmingnerd-blog @xaxsir @jakesullyfatjuicypeen @navilover24 @sulieykte @iameatingmyhair @leaveitbythewave @ntymavtr @fifilynn16 @kiri-tuk @mstocky78 @neteyamyawne @randumfanfics @sliqeramx @bluewonder @the-morning-moon @nerdfacesposts @vip-btxch @neteyamsyawntu @neteyamsoare

(If your tag isn't working, please check your settings.)

#avatar #avatar the way of water #neteyam #neteyam sully #neteyam x reader #avatar fic #awow #neteyam x na'vi!reader #atwow #atwow neteyam #avatar twow #avatar neteyam #neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan #avatar smut #neteyam smut #lunaskinktober2023

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z0mb1epuzzy · 3 months

Text

Vox relationship hcs !! SFW & NSFW (Gender Neutral)

SFW:

Warnings: Val mentioned. (joking)

- Vox is obviously a guy who needs some validation, he won’t admit it - but the second you tell him how handsome he looks or how good a job he did on the air that day, you notice his mood is overall… better.

- Naturally the other V’s will still be involved in Vox’s life. Velvette adores you, probably treating you like a friend who just happens to be dating her coworker more than anything. Valentino seems relatively indifferent, he tried his little flirting routine once or twice, but the second Vox snapped at him for it (Yk that scene where he gets all up in his face and says “VAL”? yeah, that type of snap) he backed off, promising you some “good work” if things didn’t work out between you and vox.

- In terms of your actual relationship, the parts that go on behind closed doors and whatnot, he’s a lot softer than one may expect. Once he drops the whole “hotshot celebrity overlord” act, he’s shockingly.. sweet? He secretly enjoys just spending time cuddling you. (his head on your chest? your head on his? he honestly doesn’t mind either way.)

- If he ever catches you eyeing something in public, he always finds a way to get it for you. You mention a shirt you thought was cute? Suddenly he’s bringing you home said shirt in a nicely wrapped little box. He calls it a “lucky coincidence.” (all he wants is to make you happy, so a couple hundred dollars in whatever knickknacks make you smile is nothing.)

- still not over the alastor thing.

NSFW: (the part you’re probably here for)

Warnings: NSFW (ofc), vibrating dick?, semi public, oral, some little sprinkles of power bottom vox, masochism(?)

Kinks - masochism (biting, scratching, whatever), dacryphilia (loves fucking you to tears bc i said so), DEGRADATION (giving, not receiving), praise (mutual), semi-public, maybe some temp play?

- Oh, your poor holes. all of them. The second this man gets off work and you hear him grumbling under his breath? just know you’re probably gonna have jello legs for a few hours (minimum.)

- Vox probably has a pretty high sex drive, not quite as high as someone as angel, but after a tough day at work, dealing with whatever bullshit man - tantrum val had, having some kind of annoying glitch with his systems, whatever is enough to irritate him.

- If you ever come and visit him on one of those days, thinking it would be a fun idea to visit him at work and maybe tease him a little, just prepared to be fucked over a desk or against a wall. he has no patience.

- If you’re someone with fem reproductive bits, be prepared because sometimes this man does NOT have the patience for a condom. (pullout game is awesome though, so that’s a plus)

- on a good day, a day where he gets to spend his time with you alone, no work or distractions, he will take his time with you. On days where he can take his time and go nice and slow with you, running his nice sharp fingers over your thighs, (maybe using some of that electricity to give you little shocks…if you’re into that) telling you how beautiful (or handsome ofc) you are, just really nice foreplay…. before you’re inevitably destroyed by his cock. (and yes, it vibrates.)

- PRAISE+DEGRADATION. “You’re such a good fucking slut for me, you know that?” or “My good fucking whore.” type shit

- He’d absolutely love receiving head, though… for obvious reasons GIVING it may be a bit complicated. When you give it though, vox WILL melt for you, groaning and cursing under his breath, when he gets close he can’t help but grab your head and face-fuck you, pulling you off his cock last minute to release onto your face (if you’re okay with that - he’s fine with your mouth too.)

- This man is fully willing to pound the everliving soul out of you if you’ll let him, but if you ever decided to take control for a night…. he’d act opposed, but you can see the intrigue on his face. (definitely ends up blue-screening) when this man is on the bottom he gets LOUD, though he’d probably get pissed off and take control again if you teased him enough.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox #vox smut #hazbin smut #hazbin #hazbin alastor #hazbin valentino

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astroa3h · 2 months

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where you'll meet your soulmate

I know this is fairly vague when it comes to astrology and how intricate of an art it can be, especially when it comes to the placement of Juno. But I find this to be pretty spot on when it comes to the dreamy meet cute you have with your destined one.

Juno in the 1st House: Picture this - you're shining bright, maybe you're on stage, or it's your birthday bash. There’s laughter, music, and bam! Your eyes lock with theirs across the room. It's electric, like a scene from a movie. Love at first sight? Heck yeah. This isn't a slow burn; it's fireworks from the get-go. Imagine meeting the one person who sees you, the real you, in a crowd of faces. That’s your moment.

Juno in the 2nd House: Imagine casually browsing through a bookstore or maybe hustling at a side gig, and there they are. Maybe they're helping you pick out the perfect gift, or you’re laughing over a bizarre find at a flea market. This connection is built on the simple things in life, like sharing a passion or working on something that matters to both of you. It’s the shared smiles and the teamwork that makes the dream work.

Juno in the 3rd House: Ever met someone and felt like you’ve known them forever? That’s Juno in the 3rd for you. It could be a friend of a friend, someone from the neighborhood, or that person you keep bumping into online because you laugh at the same memes. This could also be a childhood friend. It's the comfort of familiarity, the ease of a conversation that never ends. It’s like finding a missing piece you weren’t even aware you were looking for.

Juno in the 4th House: This is all about home, heart, and heritage. Imagine finding your soulmate at a family gathering or through a connection so deeply rooted in your past, it feels fated. It could be a cozy dinner, a traditional celebration, or through the meddling of your mom playing cupid. This soulmate brings a sense of belonging, a feeling of coming home, no matter where you are.

Juno in the 5th House: Think laughter, creativity, and a dash of spontaneity. Meeting your soulmate while you’re living your best life, maybe at a concert, an art exhibit, or while coaching little league. It’s those moments of pure joy and abandon, where you meet someone who makes your heart race faster than a rollercoaster ride. It’s about finding love in the midst of living passionately.

Juno in the 6th House: Here, love finds you in the midst of your daily grind. It could be that new colleague, someone you meet at a fitness class, or even a fellow volunteer. This is about finding someone who fits into your life like the perfect puzzle piece, making every day brighter and every routine special. It’s the beauty in the ordinary, the love that grows in shared routines and little acts of care.

Juno in the 7th House: Picture meeting your soulmate at a wedding, It's where you least expect it, in the midst of celebrating love, you find your own. It could be a plus-one that was meant to be your plus-one forever. This is about partnerships, the undeniable pull towards someone who complements you perfectly, in ways you hadn’t even dared to dream of. I sometimes find you may even find your soulmate through an ex partner with this placement.

Juno in the 8th House: This is deep, the kind of connection that happens in the quiet, unexpected moments. Maybe it’s someone you meet in a place where you both show your vulnerabilities, or perhaps during a time of transformation. You could be intoxicated or under the influence when you meet. It’s a soul-stirring, intense connection that feels predestined, a love that’s as profound as the ocean and just as mysterious.

Juno in the 9th House: Imagine crossing paths with your soulmate in a setting that screams adventure and growth. It could be a study abroad program, a spiritual journey, or just a random seminar that you both decided to attend on a whim. This is about finding someone who shares your thirst for knowledge, adventure, and the quest for meaning in life. It’s about expanding your horizons, together.

Juno in the 10th House: Here’s where your ambitions and your heart align. Meeting your soulmate in a context that’s all about achieving your life’s purpose, maybe at a conference, through a mentor, or while making your mark on the world. It’s about finding someone who not only shares your dreams but is ready to build an empire with you. This love story is about legacy, ambition, and a shared vision for the future.

Juno in the 11th House: This is the meet-cute you didn’t see coming. A friend’s party, a community event, or that random encounter at a party. It’s about connection, friendship, and shared ideals. Finding your soul mate here means finding someone who gets you on a level that's almost telepathic. It’s about shared laughs, mutual friends becoming mutual admirers, and feeling like you’ve found your tribe with this person by your side.

Juno in the 12th House: This is where souls connect on a celestial level. Imagine a tranquil setting, a spiritual retreat, or a place where you're seeking peace, and there they are. This connection is ethereal, almost like recognizing a soul from a past life. It’s a love that transcends time and space, wrapping you in a sense of calm and belonging that’s hard to put into words.

xox astro ash ✨ Get your own Juno Soulmate Reading @ astroash.net TikTok - astroa3h

#astrology #astrology readings #astrology aspects #natal chart #astrologer #astro observations #astro notes #astro community #astrology blog #daily astrology #astrology houses #horoscopes #zodiac #astro placements #birth chart #juno #soulmate

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rain0tes · 3 months

Note

Hi hi love your hacker reader a bit too much it's great!! What would be their reaction to sir pentious trying to join the hotel? And the little eggbois once he starts staying there for real?

Hacker!reader's reaction to Sir Pentious trying to join the hotel.

Hacker!reader actually comes in after the heaven vs. hell battle, when Pentious has already been redeemed. This is an alternate scenario where you've been in the hotel a few weeks before Pentious makes an appearance.

Warnings: mature language and jokes, mentions of violence (although nothing too explicit), all the obvious hazbin stuff

You've been at the Hazbin Hotel for a few weeks. Although not fully convinced by the idea of redemption, having a roof over your head while easing into your new life (or afterlife) was nice.

You find a friend in most of the other wayward souls in the hotel, especially Charlie, who was more than excited when you show up.

The actual story starts when Pentious comes crashing into the hotel the first time. Literally.

You were having tea with Alastor out on the balcony when you feel the ground below yourself shake.

"Show yourself, Alastor."

That earns the radio demon a side eye from you, which he only shrugs at.

You see the others go outside in your peripheral, wanting to check out what the commotion was about. You shrug and head down as well, actually using the stairs since not everyone can just warp through shadows.

You stand beside Alastor, squinting at the giant blimp as they conversed.

"When I've slain you, the almighty Vee's will finally acknowledge me as their equal."

"Ooh! Wait, who are the Vee's?"

"Aren't they that tacky trio with the crap network security?"

"They're no one important."

One beating later, Pentious is on the ground after Alastor has decimated his war-blimp...thing.

"Thanks for another forgettable experience."

"Thank...you...for letting your guard down! Haha!"

Pentious rips off a part of Alastors suit, causing you to physically wince.

"Ah, you shouldn't have done that."

You can't help but chuckle when you see him get sent flying.

"Looks like team rockets blasting off again."

You expected that to be the last time you'll be seeing of him (at least in a while), but it seems that fate has other plans when someone comes knocking on the hotels doors only six hours later.

Vaggie was the one to answer, and he almost got skewered upon sight. Charlie seemed excited that he showed up, tho, and somehow you're not surprised.

"Are you fucking nuts? This chump was trying to kill us like, literally six hours ago?"

"Yeah, exactly, are you seriously gonna let this pathetic loser live with us?"

They did, IN FACT, let the boyfailure in the hotel. You weren't too happy about it, and neither was angeldust (bonding through a common enemy).

You can't help but feel that something was odd about him, sensing an electrical device on him that was certainly not a phone. You remained quiet for the time being, if only to please Charlie by playing along with her activities (even if they did make you cringe just a tiny little bit).

You watch him slither sometime in the middle of the night, prompting you to follow him as you take a sip out of a monster energy can.

"A camera? Wow, that's pretty cheap. Certainly doesn't help my already low expectations of the Vee's"

Yeah, you caught him in the act when he was placing the camera. Angeldust already behind you, confronting Pentious while you pick up the device.

You take a screwdriver out of your pocket, disabling the thing but not damaging it, all while the two fight beside you.

Pentious immediately calls for backup once he's been outed to Vaggie and Charlie, only for Vox to laugh in his face.

"If they don't kill you, go ahead and do it yourself you miserable failure."

You immediately snatch the smartwatch. He may be right, Pentious certainly was a failure. But you've already decided that you're the only one who gets to insult him.

"Listen here, you musty little bitch. You either shut the fuck up or I do it for you."

He's tearing up as you throw the meanest sentences he's ever heard to Vox. Some of them even sound poetic to some degree.

"Two thousand years of constant human evolution only to make some simple minded cunt."

Immediately refers to you as his best friend after this. You waged war on an overlord of hell for him. There's no take backsies.

For once, there's someone in the hotel who's not actively looking out for you, but you're the one looking out for him instead.

You two would share ideas ALL the time.

One thing you'd accomplish together is making a clone of you. He made the android, you made the A.I it would run on.

"Would it technically be mastur-"

"Don't you dare continue that sentence."

The main difference is that the Vee's know who you are in this one. Actively waging war against them instead of remaining anonymous. All because you've decided that the weird boyloser snake is actually kind of endearing.

I might make another part to this one where the reader participates in the hell vs heaven battle.

(masterlist)

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #charlie morningstar #vaggie #vaggie hazbin hotel #angel dust #alastor #sir pentious #sir pentious x reader #gn reader #🌧Rain0tes

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