#I’M WILD I’M GOING CRAZY GOING STUPID | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ha-rinrin · 3 months ago

Text

"Is there something wrong with my pants?"

Summary: Jinx's comes home after getting half of Zaun out of Stillwater with a doubt on her mind.

Pairing: Jinx x fem!reader

Wordcount: 1.4k

Authors note: I laughed so hard at this scene that I had to write something based on it. Also, guys, I'm absolutely refusing to accept the ending of episode 6 for my own mental health.

masterlist

The hideout is still, the quiet hum of the machinery and the flicker of a dim lamp your only company. You've been waiting for Jinx, trying not to imagine all the chaos she’s causing out there. You know she’s been working on something big, but you’re never quite sure exactly what until she shows up.

The door slams open, and in she bursts, her energy almost tangible as she steps into the room. Jinx is practically glowing, a grin stretched across her face that matches the wild sparkle in her eyes. Her clothes are messy, but she’s hardly bothered by it, her usual chaotic aura taking over.

“Guess who just pulled half of Zaun outta Stillwater?” she announces, her voice thick with excitement. She practically bounces in place, her fingers twitching like she’s about to explode with more energy.

You blink, surprised. “Wait—half of Zaun? You mean you—”

Jinx nods, cutting you off with a quick motion of her hands. “Yeah! I snuck in, all stealthy-like, dodged the enforcers, and got them out. No one even knew what hit ‘em! They’re gonna be talking about this for ages, trust me.” She leans in closer, her face lighting up with that grin that’s both wild and contagious. “I’m like their ghost, except, you know, way cooler.”

You can’t help but smile at her enthusiasm, though a small part of you wonders how she managed it without being caught. She’s reckless, but she’s also clever in her own strange way.

Her voice drops a little, a mix of excitement and something softer underneath it. “It felt good, y’know? Being the one who saves the day for once.” She rubs the back of her neck sheepishly, glancing at you like she’s half unsure if you’ll think it’s stupid.

You step forward, catching her eyes with a soft smile. “I’m proud of you, Jinx. You did something good today.”

Her eyes widen slightly, a little surprised at the words, before her usual grin returns, if a little softer now. "Well, I don’t always blow things up, y’know." She shrugs, still trying to play it off like it’s no big deal, but you can tell she’s pleased.

“Yeah, but you always make it exciting," you reply, stepping closer to her, your voice warm. "Only you could pull something like that off and get away with it."

Jinx laughs, her energy rising again, and she twirls around once more, feeling the high of her success. "Well, they won’t be calling me ‘crazy’ for much longer! They’ll be calling me a hero soon enough—just wait!"

You smile, watching her, knowing that her idea of ‘hero’ is always going to be a little different from the norm. But you wouldn’t have it any other way.

After the rush of adrenaline begins to fade, Jinx’s usual wild energy starts to settle, leaving behind a quieter, more tired version of her. She lets out a long breath, her grin softening as she moves to the couch, her steps a little less bouncy now.

“You know,” she says, her voice much softer than before, “sometimes, all that sneaky, saving-the-day stuff takes more out of me than I thought.”

She drops onto the couch with a sigh, sprawling out, but then pats the empty space next to her, glancing up at you with a mischievous smile. “C’mere. You’re not gonna leave me hanging after all that, are you?”

You raise an eyebrow but walk over anyway, sitting next to her. As soon as you do, Jinx pulls you down beside her, her arms wrapping around you like a vice, dragging you closer as she snuggles into your side.

“Perfect,” she mutters, resting her head against your shoulder with a contented sigh. Her usual wild energy has faded, replaced by something softer, something that only ever seems to appear when she’s with you. She lets out a small, satisfied hum, clearly enjoying the comfort of just being close to you after everything.

“You know, you’re the only one who doesn’t think I’m a total freak," she says after a few moments of quiet, her voice more vulnerable than she usually lets on. "You’re the only one who gets it… and me." She nuzzles into your side, her arms tightening around you slightly.

You smile softly, resting a hand on her back, your fingers gently tracing the familiar lines of her jacket. "You’re not a freak, Jinx. You're just... you. And that’s all I need."

She glances up at you, her eyes bright, but there’s something softer there now, something deeper than the usual spark of mischief. "Good," she mutters with a quiet chuckle. "’Cause I’m never gonna change." Her grip on you tightens a little, and she settles further into your side, clearly at peace now. “So, I’m gonna stay here and cuddle until the world falls apart again. You cool with that?”

You chuckle, feeling the warmth of her body next to yours, the chaos of her day finally falling away as she rests against you. “I’m more than cool with that.”

Jinx lets out another satisfied sigh, her eyes fluttering closed as she relaxes even more, completely at ease in your arms. And for once, everything feels calm—just the two of you, wrapped up in each other, in a world that’s spinning too fast for anyone else to catch

Jinx stays nestled against you for a while, the chaos of the day melting away in the quiet comfort between you. Her breathing has slowed, and she feels more relaxed than she has in hours. The soft hum of the hideout is the only sound, but then, out of nowhere, she shifts slightly in your arms, her mood taking a subtle dip.

You feel her tense, just for a second, and her voice comes out a little softer than usual. “Hey… um… do you think there’s something wrong with my pants?”

You blink, not sure if you heard her correctly. And then, you glance down at her—her eyes wide, her lips pressed together like she’s genuinely worried. It’s such a stark contrast to the wild, unpredictable energy she usually exudes. The sudden vulnerability in her face, combined with the seriousness of her tone, is almost too much.

And before you can stop yourself, you burst out laughing. It’s not mean-spirited, just genuine, surprised amusement. The ridiculousness of the question, paired with the look on her face, catches you off guard.

Jinx blinks at you, her eyes narrowing slightly in confusion as she watches you laugh. “What?” she asks, her voice a little defensive, though the corners of her mouth twitch in response to your laughter. "Is it really that funny?"

You try to catch your breath, still chuckling. “Jinx… you—" You wipe your eyes with your sleeve, grinning. “You’re worried about your pants? Look at you! You’re the last person who should care about that!”

She pouts for a moment, her arms still around you as she pulls herself a little closer, almost like she’s trying to hide. “It’s not funny, okay?” she mutters, her voice quieter now, though there’s still a hint of that pout on her lips. "That enforcer made me feel stupid... and I didn’t like it."

You stop laughing, realizing just how much it’s bothering her. You gently tilt her chin up to look at you, the playful tone fading as you meet her eyes. “I’m sorry, Jinx,” you say, your voice soft but sincere. “It’s just… you’re telling me this, and then I look at you, and I’m like— … Who cares what she thinks?”

She stares at you for a moment, the pout fading as she lets out a small breath. “Yeah, but still...” she trails off, still fiddling with the fabric of her pants.

You grin, brushing a hand through her hair as you pull her back into you. “You’re perfect, Jinx. Those pants? Totally you. No one else could pull them off like you do.”

her head resting against your chest as she lets out a soft sigh, the weight of her earlier worries starting to ease away. “You’re the best,” she murmurs, her voice barely audible. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

You smile, kissing the top of her head. “You’d probably blow something up, but I’d still be right here.”

And just like that, the tension fades. She’s back to her usual self—still a little quirky, but reassured and relaxed in your arms.

#jinx arcane #jinx x y/n #jinx x reader #arcane jinx #jinx/you #jinx x fem!reader #jinx posting #jinx league of legends #jinx lol #jinx

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hoshifighting · 3 months ago

Note

Can you pleaseeee also write staff mingyu x idol reader🥹🥹

staff!mingyu

WARNINGS: angst, fluff, jealousy, suggestive. may be triggering because of; extreme diets, blackout, getting scolded by the choreographer, fingering, a bit of possessive talk, hair pulling, cock riding, devoted mingyu too.

staff!mingyu who you're in one of those tiny-ass dressing rooms with, the ones where you can barely move without smacking into a light fixture or tripping over cables, andhe's , towering over you, big frame almost making the room look even smaller. he’s your stylist-slash-PA-slash-damage-control-for-whatever-stupid-thing-you-say-in-interviews guy, which means he’s there to check every last detail on you, no matter how close he’s gotta get.

it’s day four of this overseas tour—barely halfway in, and you’re already feeling like you’re running on fumes. you’re dodging local food left and right, not ’cause it doesn’t look good, but ‘cause it’s either not on this wild diet they’ve shoved you on or it just doesn’t sit right with your stomach. for real, you didn’t think there’d be a point in your career where you'd be skipping meals, just ‘cause the food doesn’t fit some "ideal look" they cooked up for you.

and staff!mingyu... always there, at the exact moment when your stomach’s about to start an opera of complaints, hands full of grocery bags and this half-smile on his face, like he’s in on some inside joke only the two of you share.

“alright, sit down,” he says, like you’re gonna argue, and starts unloading enough ingredients to feed a small village. he moves around the hotel kitchenette—pots, pans, seasonings, a whole rotation of stuff he’s pulled outta his endless stash. he even managed to drag around a few of those little plastic spice bottles from home, ‘cause apparently, foreign supermarkets don’t stock paprika exactly how he wants it.

“didn’t know your resume included chef duties,” you joke, propping your chin on your hand as you watch him chop veggies with the same focus you’ve seen when he’s backstage, touching up your makeup or fixing your outfits.

he laughs easy. “oh, it doesn’t,” he says, glancing over his shoulder with a grin. “but you looked like you were about to faint this morning, so i figured i’d make an exception.”

“what, you gonna make a whole buffet?” you tease, but the moment he sets that first plate down, you’re quiet. it’s nothing fancy, but it smells like heaven—garlic, spices, veggies mixed with something hearty, real food for the first time in days.

“look, you eat this, or i swear i’m shoving it down your throat myself,” he says, crossing his arms, and even though he’s joking, there’s this serious fringe in his eyes. like, he won’t let you get away with just picking at the food.

“alright, alright.” you dig in, taking that first bite, and it’s somehow exactly what you needed—warm, filling, like someone wrapped you in a blanket from the inside out. you’re not even halfway done, and he’s already cleaning up, telling you about how he once had to do this for himself, back when he was training and could barely afford takeout, let alone proper meals.

“so, yeah, i’ve been cooking for years,” he says, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. and it hits you then, this guy, who’s supposed to be here to make sure your eyeliner doesn’t smudge, is actually going out of his way to make sure you’re not just a shell of yourself on stage.

“you know, if this whole career thing falls through, you’d make a damn good chef,” you say, and he just shakes his head, laughing.

“nah,” he says, “i think i like this job better. get to keep an eye on you, make sure you don’t faint halfway through a song.”

staff!mingyu who notices everything, who noticed how you walked into the practice room that day looking like... hell, honestly. there were bags under your eyes so dark they could’ve been bruises, and your skin was that shade of pale that came from days of no sleep, maybe a crazy diet, who knows what else. mingyu was hanging out with a bunch of the other staff in the corner, narrowly paying attention at first, but then he caught sight of you—really looked at you—and yeah, it wasn’t just fatigue. he knew what he was seeing; it was that same look he’d seen too many times in trainees and idols back in the day. the look that meant you’d been pushing way too far for way too long.

by the time you got through the first set of counts, your choreographer was already on your case, his tone sharp as knives. “again,” he snapped, crossing his arms, and you could practically hear his frustration from across the room. “you’re not even hitting the moves properly. what is this?” he scoffed, giving you that disappointed stare that always made you feel about two inches tall. “do you even want to be here right now?”

mingyu’s fists clenched a little. he’d seen you pull off that choreography a hundred times before, and he knew damn well it wasn’t that you didn’t care. it was that you literally didn’t have anything left in the tank, and this guy was still going in on you like you were some slacker.

but you didn’t argue back, didn’t defend yourself, nothing. just bowed your head, muttering, “i’m sorry,” in this tiny, defeated voice. mingyu could see the exhaustion written all over you, the way your shoulders slumped, how you couldn’t even lift your head all the way back up after bowing. you just stayed there, bent over in that apologetic pose, like maybe that was the last bit of strength you could pull together.

but then, as he watched, you didn’t straighten up at all. in fact, you didn’t move for a solid couple of seconds. and then, like you were a puppet whose strings had just been cut, you dropped. one second, you were still standing, and the next, your knees buckled, and you collapsed right there on the damn floor.

for a split second, no one reacted; it was like the room had frozen.

but then mingyu snapped out of it, his heart racing as he lunged forward. the rest of the staff started moving too, voices rising in panic, but mingyu was already at your side, leaning down and calling your name, voice barely hiding the worry.

“hey! hey, can you hear me?” he said, reaching out to gently shake your shoulder. you were breathing, but it was shallow, and your face had gone even paler than before, if that was possible. mingyu felt this pang in his chest seeing you like that. you’d been pushing so hard that your own body just gave up on you.

someone behind him was calling for water, another person was getting the choreographer to back the hell off.

jobs in general weren’t easy, he knew that. but for mingyu, there was nothing worse than watching idols, the people he was supposed to support and protect, get wrecked like this—shoving themselves into diets, swallowing the criticism like it was part of the gig, sacrificing sleep and health just to fit into a pair of jeans or to mold into some industry standard that kept shifting.

he’d been in this job for years, and he’d seen it all before. too many nights spent watching trainees lose more weight than was healthy, idols pushing themselves until they’d practically faded away. sometimes, in the back of his mind, he wondered if it’d be worth leaving, finding a path where he didn’t have to witness it all so up close. he’d think about it on those long nights when he was running on four hours of sleep and too much coffee, wondering what the hell he was doing here when he could be somewhere else, not dealing with the cycle of pushing and breaking and then pushing even harder.

but then there was you. you, with your stubborn smile and that relentless drive he couldn’t help but admire. maybe it was that same drive that had you here, running yourself down like you’d forgotten how to stop. but mingyu had felt that pang deep in his chest at the thought of not being around you—of not being there to see you through the highs and lows, to make sure you had someone who cared about more than just your stage presence.

it was that thought, that tiny, persistent ache, that kept him rooted here every damn day. even if he had to watch you crash sometimes, even if it drained him dry just trying to keep up, he’d stay. he’d be right there, whether you knew it or not, making sure that someone in your corner would be looking out for you, whether you wanted it or needed it, or not.

staff!mingyu who’d quietly made it his side mission to keep you fed, like he’d added it to his job description without anyone even asking. it started small, maybe just a little sandwich he’d stash in his bag for you after seeing you collapse that one time. but then it became routine, almost sacred, the way he’d show up like clockwork with that lunch pack in hand, looking half like your bodyguard in his all-black staff gear, half like your own personal chef with a menu that he swore changed every time he showed up.

“mingyu, what’d you make me today?” you’d ask, bouncing into the dressing room after each performance, all amped up and practically beaming because, let’s face it, you’d come to love his little surprise meals more than you’d admit.

and mingyu, with that smug but bashful little smile, would act all nonchalant. “oh, nothing much… just a little chicken and veggie stir-fry,” he’d say, but it was always something next level—some five-star recipe he’d learned just for you. and the best part? he’d make it seem like it was nothing, just a side gig he’d taken up on the fly, when really he’d been researching recipes, planning, and even practicing to make sure it came out perfect.

he’d hand you the lunch pack like he was passing off something top secret, keeping a close eye as you took that first bite, watching for any sign you didn’t like it. but, of course, you always loved it. because mingyu wasn’t just making food—he was making damn art. you’d take a bite, eyes lighting up as you hummed in appreciation, and he’d try to hold back that grin but always failed, shoulders relaxing like he’d just won something.

“you don’t get it, mingyu,” you’d say, mouth full but smiling like a kid on christmas. “i think you’re the reason my performance’s getting better. you’re, like, my actual secret weapon.”

and he’d laugh, pretending to brush it off, but inside? he was proud. because knowing you were hitting the stage with a full belly, with energy to burn and that spark back in your eyes—that meant everything. it was his way of giving back to you, even if you never asked for it, even if you didn’t realize how much he cared.

staff!mingyu who somehow became the world’s best photographer without ever meaning to, taking these casual, almost-too-good photos of you that drove your fans insane. you’d be walking through some cobblestone street in italy or leaning out of a coffee shop in tokyo, and he’d be there, catching that perfect shot with his phone. no fancy equipment, no staged poses—just mingyu, with his natural eye for what made you shine, snapping photos that were somehow intimate and made you look like everyone’s dream. fans called them “girlfriend pics,” and if only they knew the man behind the lens.

you had to admit it—he was stealing your heart a little more with every click. at first, you brushed it off as some harmless crush, a side effect of him being so damn good at his job. but then he’d do something small, like bring you soup when you were sick, or drape his coat over your shoulders when you got cold during a late-night rehearsal, and it’d hit you all over again. mingyu, with that goofy smile, the biggest heart, and hands that somehow felt gentle and grounding as he adjusted your hair or let you lean on him during those endless backstage waiting times.

it was easy to fall for him. too easy, really. and the way he cared? the way he was there for you, always? how could you not? he had this way of making you feel seen, like no matter how chaotic things got, he was your solid ground, always steady, always there to keep you safe and keep you going.

but, of course, staff!mingyu was a catch to more than just you. you’d see the way the other staff members watched him, the way some of them giggled and whispered, eyes lingering a little too long. and mingyu, ever the nice guy, didn’t even seem to notice—or maybe he did, but he didn’t really care. he’d give his number when they asked, smile back when they flirted, just being his usual, friendly self. you’d tell yourself it didn’t bother you, but the truth was, it was like a little ache in your chest every time.

after a show one night, you and the whole team went out to celebrate, and mingyu was right there, laughing, clinking glasses with everyone, in his element. when it got late, exhaustion finally started to settle in, and you decided to call it a night. you told everyone you were heading back to the hotel, hoping he’d maybe do the same.

but mingyu didn’t. he stayed behind, still chatting and laughing with a few of the girls from the staff, and you could feel it—that twinge of jealousy, the frustration, knowing they’d probably spend the rest of the night with him, hanging on his every word, maybe more.

as you looked back one last time, watching him, it hit you like a punch in the gut. maybe to him, all this was just work—a job. you were part of that, someone he cared about, but just someone in his care. and the pang of that realization stung. maybe you weren’t so special after all.

what you were about to do wasn’t right. hell, it felt downright selfish. you sat in the bathtub, hot water swirling around you, trying to drown out the nagging voice in your head that told you to just let it go, that this was a bad idea. but you couldn’t shake it off—every thought twisted into a knot in your stomach. you felt almost sick, like you had this strange, heavy weight pressing down on your chest, something that felt more like heartbreak than anything else.

“god, what am i doing?” you muttered to yourself, scrubbing at your skin like it might wash away the confusion. you knew mingyu was just doing his job, that he was sweet and caring and everything you admired. but watching him flirt with those girls, knowing they’d likely take him away for the night, made you feel like you were going to hurl.

“ugh, this is so dumb,” you groaned, splashing water around, the sound echoing off the bathroom tiles. “why can’t i just be normal about this? it’s not like i’m his girlfriend or anything.”

but then the truth hit you again, a sharp stab of clarity amidst the chaos. you wanted to be.

after a few more minutes of spiraling, you said “fuck it,” feeling a rush of determination surge through you. you fished your phone out of your towel, thumb hovering over his name. your heart raced as you typed out the message.

“hey, mingyu. i know you’re probably busy, but i just wanted to say... i’m not feeling great. kind of sick, actually. do you think you could come by?”

you hit send, the knot in your stomach twisting tighter as you leaned back against the tub. was this too much? but then again, maybe it was time to stop hiding how you felt, to admit you needed him without a million excuses holding you back. it was either that or let him slip away for good, and you weren’t ready for that.

mingyu came in a rush, as if he’d been waiting for your text the entire time. you barely had time to wrap yourself in a towel before he was at your door, knocking frantically. “y/n! are you okay? open up!”

you opened the door, and the sight of him—hair a little messy, eyes wide with worry—made your heart race. “yeah, um, just feeling a bit under the weather,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady, but it wavered slightly. you didn’t want to come off as dramatic or needy.

he touched your forehead and you leaned into his touch without even realizing it, closing your eyes for a brief second “you don’t have a fever at all,” he said, confsed.

you pulled back abruptly, the warmth fading as reality crashed back in. clutching your towel tight around your body, you walked over to the window, pretending to be fascinated by the view outside. the city lights twinkled in the distance.

“y/n?” mingyu called, confusion clear in his voice. “what’s going on?”

you couldn’t believe you took one of his rare moments of lounge because of being selfish. mingyu leaned against the wall, arms crossed, his brow furrowed in confusion. “y/n, you were perfectly fine just a few hours ago. what’s really going on?” he asked, the suspicion creeping into his voice.

“i told you, it’s just a little... off,” you replied, avoiding his gaze. the guilt gnawed at your insides, knowing you were lying, but the way he was looking at you made it hard to come clean.

“off?” he echoed, raising an eyebrow. “that’s the best you can come up with? you don’t just go from fine to ‘i need my staff member to check on me’ for no reason.” he took a step closer, eyes narrowing. “you’re not actually sick, are you? what’s up?”

you shifted uncomfortably, the towel clinging to you. “seriously, mingyu, it’s nothing. maybe just a little headache or something,” you said, hoping the casual tone would brush off his concern.

he let out a huff of disbelief. “a headache? so bad that you needed me to rush in here? that doesn’t add up.” he studied you, like he was piecing together a puzzle. “just tell me the truth. are you really feeling sick, or is there something else bothering you?”

“i just thought maybe you could... keep me um... company, you know? just for a bit.”

“keep you company?” he repeated, tone incredulous. “so you fake being sick just to get me in here? you could’ve just asked! you know i’m always down to hang out.”

“mingyu—” you started.

but he cut you off, his voice firm, the playful light fading from his eyes.

“why would you do that? this isn’t some joke, y/n. my job isn’t a game. it’s serious.”

you pressed your lips together at his louder tone, the shock of it stinging more than you expected. you hadn’t meant for things to escalate this badly, and as you felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes, it hit you like a ton of bricks: you never thought mingyu would raise his voice at you. it felt so out of place, so foreign, and your heart sank.

“hey, hey, i’m sorry,” he said, the anger melting away as he noticed your expression. he stepped closer, the care flooding back into his eyes.

you quickly wiped your eyes before the tears could fall, you could feel the heat rising in your cheeks. “you know what? i hate it,! you blurted out, unable to hold back any longer. “i hate when they’re all over you, mingyu! it makes me sick to my stomach!”

his brows furrowed, clearly caught off guard. “wait, what? you hate it when who’s all over me?”

“those girls! the staff!” you said, your voice rising with every word. “the way they throw themselves at you like you’re some kind of trophy. and you smile back at them, like it’s all just a joke or something. it drives me insane!”

mingyu looked stunned, blinking at you as if he were trying to process what you were saying. “y/n, are you—are you... jealous?”

“i — well— hell yeah, i’m jealous!” you shot back, frustration spilling over. “you’re so kind and caring, and they see that. they want you, and it feels like they think they can just waltz in and take you away from me. it’s infuriating!”

“but it’s just… it’s just me being friendly,” he stammered, “i’m not trying to lead anyone on. you know that, right?”

“i know, but it doesn’t change how it makes me feel,” you replied. “it’s like you’re this perfect guy, and they all want a piece of you. and here i am, just trying to keep my head above water, feeling like i have to compete for your attention.”

mingyu shook his head, a soft smile creeping onto his face despite the tension. “you don’t have to compete for anything. you’re… you’re the one who has my heart. all those girls? they’re just… coworkers.”

you pause, processing his words, and mingyu scoffs lightly, a teasing grin on his face.

“oh please, it’s true. you think i’m not bothered when i see those idols shoving their numbers on your sandwiches?”

you blink at him, completely taken aback. “wait, sandwiches? what are you talking about? i only eat the ones that you make for me.”

he interrupts you with that signature smile of his, one that always makes your heart race a little faster. “yeah, exactly. that’s ‘cause i always give those sandwiches to someone else.”

“mingyu, what the hell?”

“y/n, what the hell?” mingyu mocks, raising an eyebrow at you, a playful smirk creeping onto his face. “you seriously thought you could pull this off? lying about being sick? that’s low, even for you.”

you roll your eyes, trying to maintain some semblance of defiance. “i wasn’t lying, i just—”

“sure, sure,” he cuts you off. “and is wearing just a towel part of your grand scheme too? because if it is, you’re gonna need to step it up a bit.”

“and what if i just want you to come over… in a towel?”

“then i’ll take that as a personal invite,” he grins, his gaze flickering to your towel before meeting your eyes again. “just know, if you’re gonna pull this kind of stunt, you better be prepared for me to take advantage of the situation.”

staff!mingyu who wastes no time, pressing forward until you’re caught between his solid frame and the cold glass, as his body pins you in place.

“you really went all out for this hm?” his fingers trailing down to the knot of your towel.

staff!mingyu who tugs the fabric free, letting it drop to the floor, leaving you fully naked. his hands spreading wide over your back, fingers firm as he turns you around to face the glass. your chest presses against the cool surface making you gasp as mingyu’s hand trails up your spine, steadying you.

staff!mingyu who grips your hips, pressing you forward, and then trails his hands up over your sides, his fingers brushing along your curves until he reaches your shoulders, leaving no part of you untouched, as though he’s marking every inch of your skin as his.

staff!mingyu who leans down, one hand sneaking around to splay across your stomach, pulling you closer to him, making you feel his hard erection on you.

staff!mingyu who lets his hand slip lower, teasing over the sensitive skin of your thigh before slipping higher, his fingers skillfully finding your pussy as he watches you through the reflection, face contorting in pleasure, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“don’t look away.” he instructs, his tone a command softened by that grin of his.

staff!mingyu who keeps one hand firm on your hip, controlling your every move as he slips his fingers inside you, “all this just because you couldn’t stand seeing me with someone else, huh?” he curls the fingers, trying to pull a response form you. “admit it,” he coaxes as he presses you harder against the glass, his fingers never relenting. “tell me you wanted this—wanted me.”

staff!mingyu who doesn’t stop until he feels you melt against him, a soft, teasing chuckle escaping as he takes in your breathless state. “next time,” he murmurs, brushing a strand of hair away from your face, “just say the word. i’ll come running.”

staff!mingyu who yanks your hair, tipping your head back to meet his lips as you twist in his grip. it’s a little clumsy, the angle throwing you off, but he holds you steady, his mouth hot and insistent on yours. you’re all melting into him, trusting the way his hands keep you secure, letting him take control as his grip on you tightens.

staff!mingyu who, somehow, maneuvers you both towards the bedd, he scoops you up with ease, laying you back as he hovers over you, he presses his hands into the mattress on either side of your head, caging you in as he dips down, pressing soft, lingering kisses along your collarbone, down to your shoulder, and back up to your jaw.

staff!mingyu who takes his time, exploring every part of you with slow touches, like he’s determined to map out every reaction, to memorize every place that makes you moan.

staff!mingyu who, even in bed, is all about making sure you’re comfortable, arranging the pillows just so, adjusting the blankets if they’re too rough, whispering “is this okay?” and “tell me what you need” like he’s got all the time in the world. his hands are warm, grounding you, and he never rushes, taking the time to check in, to make sure you’re exactly where you want to be, that he’s giving you what you want, down to the smallest detail.

staff!mingyu who lets you wrap yourself around him however you want, all limbs and tangled sheets, whispering soft reassurances in your ear as his hands trace your back, making sure you feel safe. he’s patient, careful, coaxing you with soft, murmured words, taking his time until you’re both lost in it, every sensation heightened.

staff!mingyu who surprises you by pulling back, catching his breath, and suddenly flipping the roles—guiding your hands to explore him, encouraging you to take control. “i’m yours too, you know,” he murmurs, watching you with that familiar smile, the one that’s equal parts playful and sincere, as he lets you explore, giving you the chance to take the lead.

staff!mingyu who’s all breathless and desperate under you from the moment you take the lead FORREAL and ride him, his hands gripping your hips, trying to guide you even when he’s struggling to keep up. soft, wet sounds filling the room as you roll your hips in slow circles, making him whine. his head tips back, eyes fluttering shut, but you bring a hand to his cheek, making him look up at you.

“tell me,” you murmur, lips brushing just against his ear, “tell me you’re mine, mingyu. that none of these hoes matter.” he looks up, his eyes hazy but still so focused on you, like he’s trying to pour everything into that gaze.

“i’m yours—yours, only yours,” he chokes out, his voice rough and pleading, like he needs you to believe it. he’s babbling now, his grip tightening on you, thumbs pressing into your skin, anchoring himself as you move, each drag pulling another whimper from his lips. “none of them—none of them mean anything,” he gasps, desperate, brows knitted together. “just you. only want you.”

staff!mingyu who’s practically begging at this point, his hands sliding up to your waist, trying to pull you down, closer, as if he could somehow get more of you. “please.” he whispers, his eyes filled with so much want it makes your heart pound.

“you’re mine, mingyu. no one else. got it?” and the way he shudders, that choked, relieved sound he lets out, is everything. he nods frantically, hands gripping you tighter as he starts to lose control, bucking up into you.

staff!mingyu who’s wholly ruined beneath you, lost in every kiss, every whispered word, clutching onto you as if he’s scared you might sneak off, even when you’re right there, telling him over and over again—“all mine.”

#seventeen imagines #seventeen reactions #seventeen scenarios #seventeen x reader #seventeen headcanons #svt imagines #seventeen #seventeen smut #svt smut #mingyu smut #kim mingyu x reader #kim mingyu imagines #mingyu x reader #kim mingyu smut #mingyu x y/n #mingyu x oc #mingyu x you #kim mingyu x you #kim mingyu x y/n

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chrissturnsfav · 7 days ago

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if star made pornstar by nessa barett do u think chris could’ve been fucking the shit out of her in the studio and that’s how she got the moans in the bridge 🤭🤭 or she could tell chris that’s the vibe she’s going for and he immediately suggests that he does that? IDK IF IM BEING CRAZY BUT THAT WOULD MAKE SUCH A HOG PROMPTTTTTTT AUGGHH

⋆.˚✮ rapper!chris helps singer!reader put her moans in her song

it’s after midnight in the studio, and your legs are tucked up on the worn leather couch while chris leans over the soundboard, head bobbing slightly to the beat looping through the speakers.

you can’t help but smile watching him—always so in his element. it makes your heart beat faster sometimes, just how effortlessly confident he is.

you clear your throat, heart thudding just a little. "chris?"

he looks up, a grin already on his lips. "what's good, kid?"

you toy with the hem of your oversized sweatshirt, cheeks heating up even though it's just him. "remember the song i've been working on for the album? pornstar?"

his brows lift, and that grin of his turns wicked. "yeah, i do. what’s on your pretty lil’ mind, huh?"

your stomach flips, but you press on. "i kinda wanna put, like, my moans in it. like, not in a gross way. just, y’know, artistic and stuff."

there’s a beat of silence before he laughs—low, rich, and full of mischief. "yo, you wild f'that." he steps closer, resting a hand on the back of the couch right next to your shoulder. "but i'm not gon’ lie...sounds fire. you tryna break the internet or what?"

you laugh nervously, covering your face. "stop! i’m serious."

he pulls your hand down gently, locking eyes with you. "m'serious too. but lemme guess—ain’t tryna jus' fake that, huh?"

"no..." you mumble, feeling stupid but oddly excited.

he tilts his head, smirking like he’s already got the answer. "bet. we can make this reealll easy, ma."

you blink up at him. "what do you mean?"

he leans in, voice dropping low and playful. "we record your moans live. like... i make you moan right here in the booth. get authentic wit' it, y’feel me?"

your jaw drops. "chris!"

"c'mon," he grins, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pulling you close. "i know you wanna."

chris proves you right just moments later when you're perched in his lap on a desk chair, panties pulled to the side as you feel him filling your puffy pussy, riding him at a comfortable pace, mewling softly.

one of chris' hands are kneading the flesh of your ass, looking up at you with a smirk as he breathes heavily, the other holding a microphone up to your parted lips.

your hazy eyes flit down to his face with your brows furrowed in pleasure, the smirk on his lips sending a pleasure wave through you as you let out another soft moan.

he nods up at you, snickering breathily, "keep goin', you sound so pretty," he whispers.

chris' tip brushes against your cervix deliciously with every bounce of your hips, causing you to let out airier moans into the mic, your eyes rolling back as your fingers curl around his shirt for leverage.

he hums in awe up at you, swiping his tongue over his bottom lip as he squeezes the flesh of your ass, "mhmm, look at you," he coos quietly, lidded eyes burning into yours. "ridin' my cock like such a good girl, wanna go faster f'me? hm?"

you nod your head, swallowing hard as you pant softly into the mic. you adjust your position on his dick before bouncing your hips harder and faster, eliciting a loud whine into the mic and a low grunt from chris as his fingers sink into your skin.

"theeeere you go, that's my fuckin' girl, jus' like that, baby, keep ridin' jus' like that," he purrs quietly, hissing in pleasure as his eyes flutter close, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip when he feels you take him into your tight warmth deeper.

"m-mmph...a-ah...ah," you moan into the mic, your eyes rolling back as your jaw falls open, drool seeping past your lips, the delicious feeling of him stretching you going straight to your tummy, a knot forming in it.

your walls tighten around him hard, causing chris to groan deeply, letting you both know how close you are. "c'mon, take this dick, baby, cum all over it too, wanna feel that shit," he grunts quietly, looking up at you with lidded eyes.

the knot tightens in your tummy, your thighs beginning to shake as your noises become more high pitched into the mic, your pace on his cock growing sloppier and erratic. "o-oh god...a-ah.."

"mm, c'mon," chris mumbles, his chest heaving up and down as he feels his balls tightening as he gets close. "you so close, just cum f'me, mama."

the knot snaps in your tummy, your hips stuttering as you let out a cry into the mic, your walls fluttering around chris' dick as your knuckles turn white at how hard you grip his shirt.

chris is pushed over the edge shortly after you, his eyes rolling back as he gasps, his hand holding the mic to your lips shaking slightly as his fingers sink into the flesh of your ass, thrusting his hips up into you to ride out his high.

"fuck," he grunts breathily, lowering the mic from your lips as his head falls back against the chair, his eyes closing. you wrap your arms around his neck, panting into his chest.

he chuckles breathily, his arm coming around your back to rub it beneath your sweatshirt, "damn, kid, you really gonna break the fuckin' internet wit' this shit. loud as hell."

thank you for reading!! <3

tags 🏷️: @sturnobsessedwh0re , @idrk2292 , @mattsbrat , @ribbonlovergirl , @matthewsroses , @mattsdemi , @emely9274 , @frankoceanfanpage , @ifwdominicfike , @marrykisskilled , @strnilolover , @cayleeuhithinknott , @forgottxen , @sophand4n4 , @sturnsrecord , @purpledragon222 , @faiyaz555 , @jocelyncsblog , @freakiolos , @slut4chris888 , @chriss-slutt , @ilovedanielcaesar , @annsx03 , @snoopychris , @chrissweetheart , @slutformatt17 , @mattsturnii , @dominicfikeenthusiast , @mattsbratt333 , @ivysturnss , @tessasturns , @coquettechris , @courta13 , @sturniolo101

@chrissturnsfav ™

#chrissturnsfav ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀིྀིྀིྀི #ᰔᩚ rapper!chris x singer!reader prompt #ᰔᩚ rapper!chris x singer!reader #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets x reader #chris sturniolo x you #sturniolo x you #christopher sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo angst #chris sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets x you

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covenofagatha · 2 months ago

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Would it be possible to do a part 2 to knocked up and turned on? Where readers further along in the pregnancy and is trying to decorate the nursery but the shade of the paint is off and nothings going according to plan. So Agatha comes to the rescue with her hands. Can it include fingering, hand kink, lactation kink, pregnancy kink and anything else you desire!

Listening to Evermore while writing this was such a funny choice

I'm also planning on having a part 3 for this too so should they have a boy or a girl?

Knocked up and turned on (Part 2)

Word count: 2100

Warnings: hand kink, fingering, lactation kink, pregnancy kink, mommy kink, fluff

“Fuck!” You exclaim, throwing down the paint brush, pinching the bridge of your nose.

Your wife rushes into the room, having just got home from work, to find you blinking back tears. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” She asks gently, rubbing your back.

You gesture at the wall that you were trying to paint. All there is right now is three swatches on an otherwise white wall. At four months pregnant, the hormones are a bit wild. “I told the worker that I wanted eggplant purple and this is clearly imperial! And I can’t build the crib and the stupid mobile won’t stay up, and nothing is going right!” You take a deep breath after your outburst, feeling a little better at getting your frustration off your chest.

Agatha has been working as usual, and to make yourself a little less stir-crazy while waiting for her to come home every day, you’ve taken it upon yourself to start decorating the nursery for your unborn baby.

You came up with a design for the big wall in the room: a purple background with green and black trees. You had ordered a crib online after countless hours of reading up on which brand was the safest. And you were determined to put together your own mobile. Other furniture and accessories that you had acquired were littered around the room.

Maybe you have been a little obsessive lately, especially considering you’re only halfway into the pregnancy, but you needed a project and you wanted everything to be perfect.

And of course, everything is ruined. But Agatha just shushes you, hugging your back to her front, arms crossed protectively over your belly, and kisses your head. “When we have our little James or Amelia, it’s not going to matter what shade of purple the nursery is. All that’s going to matter is that we have our own bundle of joy that we get to love and spoil and be there for.”

You sigh and nod. Rationally, you know she’s right. And then your nose wrinkles. “Did we decide on Amelia if it’s a girl? I thought we liked Harper.” The baby name debate had taken up many an evening at the Harkness house. You both liked the name ‘James,’ but had gone back and forth on girls’ names.

“Mm, we did, but then I changed it,” Agatha hums and you chuckle. She sways lightly with you and you just enjoy the feeling of her.

“I guess you’re right,” you concede. “Imperial and eggplant are basically the same shade. Even though–”

“It looks perfect, baby,” Agatha cuts you off before you can go down that rabbit hole again. “Why don’t you get off your feet for a bit? I can take over.”

“Are you sure? You just got home, I’m sure you’re exhausted,” you say, able to feel the tenseness in her body.

But she kisses your earlobe this time. “Nonsense. You’re the one carrying our child. James or…Bianca?”

You shake your head. “Even worse.” She laughs and nudges you towards the green rocking chair in the corner. It had been a gift from your parents and you couldn’t wait to sit in it with your baby and read them a story or hold them until they fell asleep.

Settling into the chair, you watch Agatha pick up the roller brush, run it through the tray a few times, and begin to paint the wall with purple. It’s hypnotizing to watch her arm move methodically like that, just up and down. Her fingers are so tightly gripped around the handle that you can see every vein in her left hand.

Your mouth runs dry.

You’ve completely forgotten about the wrong shade of the paint.

“After this, I can take a look at the crib, yeah? Maybe it’ll be easier with two people. And what were you using to hang the mobile?” Agatha asks absentmindedly, dipping the brush back into the paint and going back over the faded stripes she just made.

You clear your throat to tear your mind out of the gutter. Your wife is trying to be helpful. “Yeah, help with the crib would be good. I was trying to use string to hang it from the ceiling, but I don’t think it’s strong enough. Every time it just came crashing down.” You look over to where you had left it in a heap on the floor and feel the anger start to come back.

“It’s okay, we’ll figure it out,” Agatha reassures. “See, this doesn’t look too bad, does it?” She’s painted a good chunk of the wall and you tilt your head to judge it.

“No,” you have to admit. “I think it looks good.” You can see Agatha beaming as she keeps rolling the brush.

After a few more minutes, she has to switch hands and you watch, absolutely transfixed, as she flexes the fingers on her left hand to stretch them out.

Suddenly, all you can think about are her long fingers, perfectly trimmed nails, the pale skin tight over her bluish veins, the way her knuckles pop when she curls into a fist. And then memories of her hand wrapped around your throat, playing with your nipples, sliding inside you,

Fuck.

You must make a small sound because she stops what she’s doing and turns around to face you. “You alright?” Concern is evident on her face, and you blush at her being worried.

Nope, you’re incredibly fucking turned on. Being pregnant has done wonders for your libido, and Agatha is never one to deny you anything.

“Yeah, I’m good,” you say, trying to brush off suspicion, but she walks over and crouches down in front of you. You have to bite back a whimper.

“Hon, is it the baby?” She asks carefully, trying to keep the alarm out of her voice.

You sigh, knowing there’s no way out of this. “No, the baby’s all good, it’s just, um, watching you paint has made me a little…” You trail off, hoping she catches your drift, but she just raises an eyebrow. The corners of her lips are tugging up ever so slightly though, so you know she just wants you to say it. “Turned on.” It’s barely a whisper but she hears it.

“Oh, yeah?”

Your cheeks burn and you nod. “Yeah. But it’s okay, you’re painting.” But she tuts, stands up, and offers you the hand you couldn’t stop staring at.

“The nursery can wait. We have five more months to paint that damn wall,” Agatha practically growls, delicately pushing you against the white dresser that you had also picked out this week. Her hands push up under your shirt and you gasp at the feeling of her warm hands on your skin.

Her mouth devours yours, tongue licking into your mouth, and you wrap your arms around her neck to pull her even closer. She slots a thigh between yours and you grind on it, already sensitive.

Another plus from being pregnant: it takes you no time at all to get soaked and ready. You can feel her half-hardened cock in her pants and you shift so that your leg brushes against it and she groans.

“What do you want, baby?” She says, lips still against yours, and your fingers entangle in her hair.

“Your hand, please,” you beg, not even caring how desperate you sound. You need those long fingers inside you, filling you perfectly.

She chuckles breathlessly and tugs at the hem of your shirt and you lift your arms so she can take it off. Agatha quickly reaches behind you to unclasp your bra and she steps back to admire your body.

“You are so fucking hot,” she says, heat in her ragged voice, and it causes a thrill to spike through you. “Look at you, full with my child.” Her hands come up to rub at the slight curve of your belly and she shudders like it physically has too much effect on her.

And then her fingers slide up to knead your already-swollen breasts and your head drops back with a moan. They’ve been so sensitive lately and Agatha fully knows this. Her lips drop to your bare chest to nip and suck and all of a sudden, something happens.

Warmth, and then the tingling sensation of pins and needles, fills your breasts. You gasp and Agatha jerks back. You move her hands out of the way and squeeze your nipples instinctively to try to ease the feeling.

Drops of milk dribble out and Agatha moans like she’s never seen anything so hot. Before you can say anything, her mouth is back on you, tugging and sucking at your nipple and it’s like nothing you’ve ever felt before.

Your entire body is throbbing. It’s like there’s a line running from your nipples to cunt, and it’s on fire.

“Agatha, Mommy, please,” you gasp, the pet name having become so much more of a turn-on for her now that she’s actually going to be one. “I need you, please, fuck me.”

She switches to your other nipple, drawing out the little bit of milk that you’ve produced, and her left hand slides down to tease the waistband of your shorts.

You need her too bad so you don’t hesitate before reaching down and shoving them down, along with your drenched underwear. You kick them off and grab her wrist, leading her exactly where you need her.

Your wife chuckles, but it turns into a hot gasp when she realizes just how wet you are.

“Fuck, baby, watching me paint really got to you,” Agatha remarks, lips still against your breasts, and you nod breathlessly.

“I like your hands,” is all you can say because she slides a finger into you and it makes your brain go fuzzy.

She starts with a slow pace at first, curling up and hitting exactly where you need her, but she starts to pick it up when you start panting more and more. She easily slips another finger into you, setting a bruising pace, and you’re already so close.

“God, hon, you feel so good around, you’re so fucking hot,” she groans and you clench in response at her praise. “You look so fucking hot being pregnant.”

You practically sob in pleasure when Agatha’s thumb starts to play with your clit and she forces a third finger inside. When she leans back down to suck at your nipples again, drawing one into her mouth and suckling on it, a strangled cry escapes from your mouth and a feeling more intense than anything you’ve ever felt builds in your lower gut.

“Mommy,” you whine and she curves her fingers just right, harshly scraping her teeth against your nipple, and the dam breaks, pleasure exploding through your entire body.

Your mind goes blank.

Agatha’s chuckles are what bring you back down to earth and you open your eyes to find splatters of liquid all over her clothes. You gasp and reach out to pat it while her fingers lazily move in and out of you.

“Did I…?”

“Squirt all over me?” She finishes for you, wearing the biggest grin you’ve ever seen. “Yes, baby. You certainly did.”

You swear under your breath and she pulls out of you. You grab her wrist and bring her fingers to your mouth, swirling your tongue around them, bobbing your head up and down them like it’s her cock, and you watch her eyes darken even more.

You’re about to offer to return the favor, but before you can, she wraps her arms around you in the tenderest hug you’ve ever had.

“I cannot wait to have this baby with you,” she says softly and it almost makes you fall apart.

You smile into her neck. “Even if it’s a girl and we don’t name her Amelia?” You joke and she laughs.

“We can name them whatever you want, hon. As long as we’re all together, it won’t matter.”

“I love you,” you whisper, turning the embrace into a one-armed hug so you both can look at the half painted wall.

Agatha says it back, leaning her head against yours. “You know, I actually don’t like this color at all,” she says, and you look up at her in surprise. She smiles, able to feel your questioning gaze. “You asked for eggplant, and this is imperial, so let’s go back and get the right kind. What my baby wants, my baby gets.”

#agatha harkness x fem!reader #agatha harkness x reader #agatha x reader #agatha x you #agatha harkness x you #agatha harkness smut #agatha smut

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urfavfrenchgrl · 4 months ago

Text

fuck you

Mattheo Riddle x F!Reader ᥫ᭡ words: 2.7k ᥫ᭡ warnings: 18+ | SMUT | MDNI ᥫ᭡ summary: After a pointless argument, you gave in, letting him do whatever he wanted with you.

Your feet carried you swiftly back to the castle, anger and frustration pulsing through your veins. You rushed to your dorm, hoping the solitude of the bathroom would calm you. You needed to be away from him, away from the whirlwind of emotions he stirred up in you.

Mattheo and you hadn’t put a label on whatever it was between you. Some days you yelled at each other, while others were spent tangled in the sheets. This time, it had been the first option. A ridiculous argument spiraled out of control, leading to your storming off, promising yourself you'd never speak to him again.

"Stupid bastard..." you muttered, stripping off your clothes. The argument echoed in your mind. You tossed your clothes into the corner and stepped into the shower, hoping the hot water might ease the storm raging inside you.

As the scalding water cascaded over your skin, you tried to relax, but your body remained tense, the frustration refusing to wash away. Your mind kept replaying the argument, but beneath the anger, there was something else—a tension you couldn't ignore. You were still thinking about him.

Mattheo had always been a storm in your life, unpredictable and dangerous. Suddenly, the sound of a knock startled you out of your thoughts. You turned off the water, frowning, listening. The knock came again, louder this time, more insistent.

"Y/N?" Mattheo’s voice, softer now, cut through the door. There was a hint of desperation there, something raw. He hadn’t wanted to admit it, but he needed you, craved your presence even when all you did was fight.

"I’m sorry, okay?" His voice was rough, but there was a vulnerability to it now. "I didn’t mean to lose it. Can we just… talk?"

Your heart clenched, but your pride held firm. You ignored him, wrapping a towel around your body and retreating to the edge of the tub. He didn’t deserve forgiveness, not this time.

"Please," Mattheo’s voice cracked, more desperate now. "I’m fucking sorry. Just open the door. You know I don’t mean half the shit I say."

Your jaw clenched. You weren’t ready to forgive him. Not yet. Instead, you started brushing your hair, trying to focus on anything other than his pleading tone on the other side of the door.

The silence stretched, but you knew Mattheo wasn’t going to back down that easily. He never did.

Then his tone changed. It was darker now, authoritative. "I’m counting to ten, Y/N. If you don’t open this door, I’ll break it down, and you’ll have to talk to me whether you like it or not."

Your breath hitched. He wouldn’t. Or would he?

He started counting. "One… two…" His knocks grew louder, and your heartbeat quickened with each number. "Nine… ten."

With a crash, the door burst open. You gasped, clutching your towel tightly as Mattheo stormed in, his eyes wild with anger, frustration—and something else. His gaze locked on you, taking in the sight of you standing there, wet and vulnerable.

"Are you fucking crazy?!" you yelled, your heart racing.

His lips twisted into a grin, but his eyes were sharp, focused. "You’ve always known I’m fucking crazy, Y/N. So why do you act like it surprises you?"

"Go to hell!" you snapped, the anger boiling over again.

He moved closer, his presence overwhelming as he stared you down, and you could feel the heat between you rising again. "Oh, or fuck me, right? Isn’t that what you always say? Maybe I should fuck yourself instead." His tone was dripping with sarcasm, but beneath it, you could sense the desire that was building.

"You’re such an asshole!" you shot back, not backing down. But your voice was shaking now, the tension between you more than just anger.

The argument was a smokescreen for what had always been brewing between you. Mattheo’s jealousy was flaring, but so was his possessiveness. He couldn’t stand the idea of you walking away.

He hesitated for a second, eyes flashing with a mix of anger and lust, before grabbing your wrist and pulling you toward the bed. His grip was firm but not painful, the air between you charged with an intensity that left you breathless.

"What does this feel like, huh?" he growled, pushing you down onto the mattress, holding your wrists. His face hovered close to yours, his breath hot against your skin. "You really want to push me? You really want to see how much of an asshole I can be?"

Your heart pounded in your chest, but you didn’t look away, didn’t back down. "Fuck. You. Riddle."

His eyes darkened with something primal, and a wicked smile curled at the corner of his lips. "No, baby. Fuck you, Y/N."

And before you could say anything, his mouth crashed onto yours. The kiss was hard, demanding, a collision of need and frustration. It was a battle for control, and neither of you was willing to lose.

He kissed you harder, biting down on your lip, pulling a gasp from you as his hands moved to your hips, gripping you tightly. His touch was rough, unrelenting, as if trying to prove a point. He needed to remind you that no one could make you feel the way he did. No one could match this fire between you.

Mattheo’s mind was racing. He didn’t know why he couldn’t stop himself. Maybe it was because you drove him insane, testing his limits, making him burn with a desire he couldn’t control.

Mattheo gritted his teeth, the intensity between you unbearable. He couldn’t take it any longer. His eyes locked onto the towel wrapped tightly around your body, and without hesitation, he yanked it away, tossing it carelessly to the side. His gaze darkened as he took in every inch of your exposed skin, his breath catching for a moment. His eyes raked over your body, filled with a hunger that sent shivers down your spine.

He stood there for a second, savoring the sight before him, as if committing every curve to memory. "Fuck, you’re perfect," he muttered under his breath, his voice low and filled with want.

Then, with an intensity that made your heart race, he leaned down and began kissing you, starting at your neck, his lips trailing over your collarbone, then moving lower. He kissed every inch of skin he could reach, worshiping your body with every heated press of his mouth. His hands followed his lips, exploring, gripping, as if he couldn’t get enough of the feeling of you beneath him.

His mouth eventually found its way to your breasts, and without warning, he took one of your nipples between his lips, sucking hard. You gasped, your body arching into him, your fingers digging into his hair as he switched to the other, giving it the same torturous attention. His teeth grazed your sensitive skin, pulling a whimper from you as the sensation shot through your body.

"Already so fucking wet for me..." he murmured, his voice dripping with arrogance as his hand slid lower, cupping your wetness. He smirked against your skin, his fingers teasing, moving just enough to drive you crazy but not enough to give you the release you craved.

His lips found yours again, shutting you up and he kissed you hard, his fingers continuing to torment you, brushing lightly against your folds, teasing your entrance but never quite giving you what you wanted. The anticipation was unbearable, your body aching for more, for him. Here’s the same section with a little more detail:

"Are you satisfied now, Y/N?" Mattheo’s breath came out heavier, his voice laced with desire as he leaned closer, his eyes dark with hunger. “Pushing me to my fucking limit.”

You could feel the heat between you, the undeniable pull of your bodies. The way his chest heaved, the tension in his muscles—he wanted you just as much as you wanted him. The air was thick with anticipation.

Without thinking, you pulled him in, kissing him harder, your lips crashing into his. You could feel his need, feel him throbbing against you. Between heated breaths, you whispered against his mouth, "Shut up… and just do it."

And then, without warning, he pushed his finger inside you, rough and deliberate. You gasped against his lips, your body arching off the bed as the pleasure hit you hard. He watched you, smirking as he saw the way you reacted to him, the power he had over you only fueling his desire.

"Fuck, Y/N," he growled, thrusting his finger deeper, rougher, as your body responded instinctively to his touch. "Look at the mess you’re making.. Such a beautiful mess," he murmured against your lips, his voice dripping with arrogance. He added one finger and thrusted deeper, rougher, feeling the way your body clenched around him.

You moaned, your hips moving in time with his hand, craving more, even as your mind screamed at you to resist.

"Fuck, Y/N..." he growled, his erection pressing hard against your thigh. He could feel your need, just as desperate as his own, and it only fueled him further.

Without warning, he slid a second finger inside you, his touch rough, determined. "You’re fucking perfect," he breathed, his voice thick with lust. "All mine, and you fucking know it."

Your mind was spinning, lost in the intensity of the moment. You were his, body and soul, and deep down, you both knew it.

Mattheo pulled his fingers out, making you whimper at the loss and wanting more.

With a casual motion, he unbuckled his belt, his gaze never leaving yours as he pulled down his trousers, freeing his erection. The air between you was charged, heavy with lust and anticipation.

"You ready for me, baby?" he asked, his voice thick with impatience, his eyes dark with desire.

You nodded, breathless, barely able to respond, your body already aching for him.

Mattheo didn’t hesitate. He positioned himself above you, gripping your hips firmly as he slid into you, slow at first, as if savoring every second. You moaned, feeling the way he filled you, your body stretching to accommodate him. But the gentleness didn’t last. Without warning, he began thrusting hard and fast, the force of his movements pulling a cry of pleasure from your lips.

The intensity was overwhelming. You had never felt anything like this before, the way your bodies moved together, perfectly in sync. It was as if you were made for each other. No one else had ever made you feel this way.

“Fuck, you’re so tight, Y/N,” he groaned, his grip tightening on your hips as he drove into you harder, faster. His eyes were wild with lust, his teeth gritted as he fought to keep control.

One of his hands slid up to your neck, his fingers wrapping around your throat, applying just enough pressure to send a shiver of excitement through you. His thrusts grew more urgent, more desperate, as the tension between you built to a fever pitch.

Mattheo was rough, but you loved it. Every brutal thrust, every growl of pleasure, only made you want him more. You dragged your fingers down his chest, tracing over the scars that marked his skin, a reminder of everything he had endured. The sight of them stirred something deep inside you—a mixture of sadness and fierce desire.

He groaned, his teeth catching your lower lip as his hands moved to your breasts, pinching your nipples hard enough to make you gasp. "Fuck yes. Just the way you like it," he growled, his voice low and raw as he kissed your neck, biting down gently.

A moan escaped you, your body arching into him, your nails digging into his skin. "Is this what you want, baby?" he whispered darkly in your ear, his breath hot against your skin. "You want to be filled by a fucking asshole?"

Before you could respond, he pulled out suddenly, flipping you onto your stomach with a swift, rough motion. You barely had time to catch your breath before he positioned himself behind you, his hand landing on your ass with a sharp slap that made you gasp. And then he was inside you again, thrusting deeper and harder than before, pushing you to the edge of what you could take.

Each thrust was more brutal than the last, driving you closer to the brink of pleasure. You were trembling beneath him, every nerve in your body alight with sensation.

Mattheo pulled back, and for a brief moment, you felt the loss of him. Then, without warning, he slapped your ass again before plunging back inside you, harder, deeper than before. His hands gripped your hips tightly, holding you steady as he fucked you relentlessly.

"You’re so fucking perfect for me, Y/N," he growled, his breath ragged as he thrust into you again and again. "When are you going to realize that?"

There was a moment, in the heat of it all, where you almost told him. Almost confessed how much you needed him. But you didn’t. You couldn’t.

Mattheo’s gaze darkened with a new intensity. Without breaking rhythm, he pulled out of you, flipping you onto your back. His hands gripped your thighs as he hoisted your legs over his shoulders, positioning himself to go deeper. His eyes locked on yours, his expression full of raw hunger and desire.

"I want to watch you come undone," he growled, his voice thick with lust, "I want to see you when I make you lose it."

Before you could respond, he plunged back inside you, thrusting deeper than before, hitting a spot that made your whole body arch off the bed. A loud moan escaped your lips as he set a punishing pace, his hips slamming into yours, your legs trembling from the intensity.

"You feel so fucking good on my cock," he groaned, his grip tightening on your thighs as he drove into you harder. "Look at me, Y/N. I want to see you fall apart on me."

Your eyes fluttered open, meeting his gaze, and the intensity of his stare sent a shiver down your spine. The pleasure was overwhelming, building with every thrust, driving you closer and closer to the edge.

"Mattheo… I can’t… I’m so close…" you whimpered, your voice barely above a whisper as your body tensed beneath him.

He grinned, his eyes blazing with satisfaction. "Then be a good girl and come for me, baby. Let me feel you tighten around me."

With one final, deep thrust, the tension inside you snapped, and you cried out his name as your orgasm tore through you. Your entire body shuddered as the pleasure consumed you, your legs trembling on his shoulders.

Mattheo groaned, watching your face as you came undone beneath him, the sight pushing him to the edge. "Fuck… Y/N… you’re so tight," he gritted through his teeth, his thrusts becoming erratic as he chased his own release.

As you clenched around him, Mattheo’s grip on your thighs tightened, and with a guttural moan, he came, his release hitting hard as he buried himself deep inside you. His body trembled with the force of his orgasm, his eyes never leaving yours as he rode out the final waves of pleasure.

You both stayed like that for a moment, breathless, your bodies trembling from the intensity. Slowly, Mattheo lowered your legs, releasing them from his shoulders, and collapsed next to you, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he tried to catch his breath.

"Fuck," he muttered, that cocky smile spreading across his face as he glanced over at you. "Such a good fucking girl.."

You let out a breathless laugh, rolling your eyes at his arrogance. "Oh shut up.." you muttered, your voice weak and hoarse, still trembling from the intensity of your release.

Mattheo chuckled, his grin widening as he looked at you, pride and satisfaction in his expression. "Make me," he teased, his voice full of that insufferable, arrogant confidence as he pulled you close.

#mattheo riddle x you #mattheo smut #mattheo riddle #slytherin boys x reader #slytherin boys smut #slytherin boys #slytherin #hogwarts #smut #harry potter fandom #urfavfrenchgrl��

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cripplecharacters · 8 months ago

Note

Hi! I’m working on an original character project that I want to include a lot of casual representation in (“casual” meaning that the characters don’t need a justification for being disabled/fat/POC/etc, they just are because people can and do exist that way in reality!)

I was wondering if you had any suggestions for finding resources for drawing facial differences(and maybe other visible disabilities), especially in a cartoony style. I’ve looked through the Facial Equality Week tag but would like to see more examples, and since my art is so… goofy, for lack of a better word, I would love any help I can get in integrating differences without being offensive or upsetting.

Sorry if this is a bother, and thank you for all that you do!

Hey!

I'm not aware of any guides for drawing facial differences specifically (or at least, good ones. There's 1 billion tutorials telling you that scars are just a Singular Line, always, but that's not... correct), but perhaps someone in the notes could help out?

For my own advice, you could check out this old post I made. Because you mentioned your art being cartoony, I would specifically urge you to not overexaggerate facial differences the way they often are. A prime example would be how a lot of cartoons portray strabismus;

It's just a funny gag to them rather than, IDK, how some of us look like. Not to mention that one of these is also a mockery of intellectually/developmentally disabled people with "Derp" in the name, but that's beside the point here.

It's the whole "the character is crazy/stupid/wild/whatever and that's why they have it" that's the problem with how it's often shown. You can also see it in how characters who don't even normally have it will be shown with it for a scene where they're saying something nonsensical, etc.

Another example that's nowhere near as rampant is the split-face thing with various facial differences being used. Mostly vitiligo but sometimes also facial palsy. I'm talking about this weirdly perfectly halved face that looks extremely different on each side, often used to imply that a character is two-faced but mostly just signals that the author doesn't know how vitiligo looks like.

[note: vitiligo also shows up on lighter skin. I wanted to make sure it's visible here for tutorial clarity purposes.]

This one is just weird because it straight up doesn't look like that. I have no idea where it came from, but it should go back there. Facial palsy doesn't make someone look like the antique comedy/tragedy theater mask.

Unless I'm forgetting some other annoying cartoon trope, these would be the big ones that you should stay away from.

Outside of that, it's really on a case by case basis on how a specific FD should be drawn because they're so different. A birthmark can just be a differently colored patch of skin, but a craniofacial difference would require some more changes to be included. Alopecia is well, lack of hair, and can be done very easily but ectrodactyly can be more complicated to show properly because of the limitations of a cartoony artstyle when it comes to hands. And while I do think it would be great to see more of those facial differences that tend to not be included in art at all, there's nothing wrong with deciding to go for the things you can represent more faithfully, especially if you're just starting.

I will say that if you're making an honest attempt at being respectful and trying to get it right, most of us will still be excited to see your work. Even if it's not perfect or has some inaccuracies. I will take a "'yeah more or less' correct with a happy, human character" over a "Very Technically correct but tagged as #tw burns and with blood splattered on them" any day.

Lastly, I wanted to share some art featuring characters with facial differences (and other visible disabilities) that are done in a cartoony, or at least somewhat simplistic artstyles (I'm using both terms very widely here) - maybe it will give you some ideas.

Man with Treacher Collins syndrome (also one of the first pieces online where I saw a character with an FD portrayed in such a lovely way. A fav of mine.) Girl with Pfeiffer syndrome Too many characters to count Woman with burns Woman with a limb difference Multiple characters again Animation featuring people with Down syndrome [youtube] Multiple characters, including a girl with neurofibromatosis, a burn survivor, a girl with a cleft lip and another with TCS [twitter]

If you have a more specific art question ("how do I draw a person with XYZ facial difference?") you can send me an ask on @saszor. I prefer to stick to the writing theme on this blog but would still like to help if you need it.

Hope this helps,

mod Sasza

Edit: apologies for the lack of alt text on one of the images, it has been fixed.

#mod sasza #anonymous #face difference #art reference #tropes

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insidekatmind · 15 days ago

Text

Bunny-Jude Bellingham

Wearning:+18,smut

It was a quiet evening in Madrid. The city sparkled under the night lights, but inside your home, the atmosphere was cozy and intimate. Jude was sitting on the couch, remote in hand, looking for something interesting to watch. You, on the other hand, were strolling around the living room with a playful smile, wearing a short black dress and a headband with bunny ears that you had found as a joke in the wardrobe.

“What do you think?” you asked with a little grin, spinning slowly to show off your look.

Jude glanced up from the TV and was momentarily speechless. Then, that smile of his— the one that always made you melt— spread across his face. "I didn’t think you could make such a simple accessory look so... irresistible," he said playfully, though his eyes betrayed how much he truly liked it.

You walked over to him and perched on the armrest of the couch, playing with a strand of his hair. "Were you watching something interesting, or did I distract you?"

He laughed and reached out to gently grab your waist. "Distract me? Absolutely. But I’m not complaining."

He pulled you onto his lap and held you close, while you laughed gleefully. The connection between you filled the room, as if the rest of the world didn’t exist.

You smile on his lap and show more of the cleavage of your dress. "so you like it?" You murmur seductively touching his muscular shoulders with feigned innocence.

He responds with an almost primal low growl, his hand slowly trailing up your leg. "I love it. You wear it so well."Jude can feel the heat rising in his body and the subtle shift in the air around him, as he tries to contain the desire slowly building up inside of him. His hands explore your torso, gently caressing your bare skin."But it might be a bit distracting," he whispers, his voice hoarse with lust. "I was trying to watch something, after all."

You smile as you continue to caress his shoulders. “I'm much more interesting than a stupid movie, don't you think?” you say in a cheesy and seductive voice. Jude laughs softly and pulls you closer, his hand going around your waist to bring you flush against his chest. He can feel the warmth of your breath, and the subtle scent of your perfume driving him crazy.

"There’s no contest," he murmurs, kissing your neck. "You're the most interesting thing in this room without even trying."

You smile and nibble his earlobe playfully. "You know Jude I wanted to wear this dress for the masquerade party that my friend had organized" you say teasing him. "But I prefer to do something else" you continue to say, teasing him.

His gaze darkens with desire as you nibble on his earlobe. He tightens his grip on your waist, pulling you even closer. Your teasing tone is driving him wild, and he can feel the heat building up inside him, his control slowly slipping away."Oh really?" he responds with a hint of jealousy in his voice. He runs his hands shamelessly down your back, enjoying the feeling of your bare skin. "And what exactly did you have in mind?"

You smile feeling his hands on your ass and bite your lip looking at him. “I was thinking that I rarely do a striptease for you,” you say, teasing him as you mischievously adjust the neckline of your dress. His hands squeeze your ass appreciatively as you bite your lip. The sight of you teasingly adjusting your neckline is almost too much for him to handle, and he can’t help but imagine the striptease you’re talking about."Is that so?” he responds in a low growl. “I’m a little disappointed that you haven’t done one for me yet."

You smiled and sucked on his lip as you still felt his hands on your ass. “let me make it up to you darling” you murmur seductively kissing his jaw.

He moans softly as you suck on his lip, his need for you growing with every second. Your seductive whisper and the feel of your lips on his jaw send shivers down his spine."Yes please,” he breathes huskily. "Please make it up to me. I don’t think I can hold back much longer."

You smiled and stood up from him, taking his hand and dragging him into your room as you moved sensually and seductively, putting your body on full display for him. He follows you willingly, his eyes roving over your body as you move, drinking in every inch of you. There’s an edge of desire in his gaze, raw and unfiltered. He wants you, badly, and it shows.

Once in your room, Jude closes the door behind him and looks at you intently as you saunter further into the room. "You’re driving me crazy,” he breathes. "Teasing me like this."You gasped in excitement feeling Jude's hands on your ass as he nibbled on your neck. “You're a bad bunny,” he whispers in your ear and you bite your lip excitedly.

His hands on your ass feel like a brand, leaving hot, possessive marks on your skin. You moan softly as he nibbles on your neck, the combination of pleasure and slight pain driving you wild. "Is that a promise or a threat," you respond breathlessly. "To punish this naughty bunny," you tease in a provocative tone.

Jude turns you around, his grip on your body firm and authoritative. He pins you against the wall, his eyes darkened with a dangerous need."Don’t act like you don’t want it," he whispers, his voice filled with a subtle warning. "You’re practically begging to be punished, aren’t you, bunny?"

You smile and lick his cheek and Jude laughs humorlessly and slaps your ass hard making you moan. “Do you really want me to ruin yourself with my cock, yes?” Jude murmurs without letting go of his ass with his hands. You gasp and moan shamelessly as he slaps your behind, the sharp pain only serving to heighten your excitement. You feel completely at his mercy, a slave to the growing heat between the two of you.

"Yes,” you breathe, your voice trembling with need. "Yes, god, I want it. I need you, Jude. Make me yours." Jude smiled and gave your ass another squeeze. “Undress and give me a nice striptease,” he orders, looking at you.

You nod breathlessly and slowly start to tease him by getting rid of your dress, taking your time, enjoying how his eyes roam over your body. The anticipation in the air is thick, and you know he's enjoying every second of this. "You'd like it, wouldn’t you,” you murmur, seductively rolling the dress over your hips. “To watch me, naked and ready for you."

Jude can barely keep his hands off of you as you slowly unveil your body. He's staring impatiently, his lips slightly parted, as you continue to tease him. "You're driving me insane," he growls lowly, his eyes roaming over your body hungrily. "I want you, now." You know better than to make him wait, so you continue your striptease more quickly, discarding what's left of your dress.

“How badly do you want me?” you ask, your voice dripping with a mixture of sultriness and tease. “Enough to lose control, Jude?” He grabs you by the arms and pulls you against him, his hands roaming possessively over your body. He's holding himself back, his self-restraint hanging by a thread.

"You have no idea," he whispers, his voice rough and strained. "No idea how badly I want you, darling. And you're about to find out how much I can lose control.” Jude looks at you and bites your lip making you moan. "get on all fours on the bed" Jude orders you.

You shiver at the commanding tone in his voice, and your body responds instantly to his order. You get on all fours on the bed, feeling incredibly vulnerable and yet, completely excited."Like this?" you ask, looking over your shoulder with a mix of shyness and anticipation.

He smiles as he comes closer and slaps your ass. "yes bunny". You gasp at the slap, feeling the heat of his hand against your skin. The pleasure of his touch is mixed with a hint of dominance, and you feel completely at his mercy.

"Yes,” you respond obediently, your voice quivering. "Whatever you want, Jude." He watches you with a mixture of desire and satisfaction, enjoying the submissive position you're in. His hand goes to your hair and he grabs a handful, pulling you closer to him.

"That's right, darling. I'm going to do whatever I want with you tonight," he whispers huskily. "And you're going to love it." His other hand moves to your hip, positioning you just where he wants you. You can feel his breath on your skin, his body pressed close against yours, and your excitement grows as you realize just how much he's in control.

"Do you trust me, bunny?" he asks, his voice low and dangerous. You nod, feeling your heart pound in your chest. There's no hesitation in your response. "Yes," you breathe, your voice filled with a mix of desire and submission. "I trust you completely Jude.“

A satisfied smile spreads across his lips as he hears your response. He knew you would trust him completely, and that trust only makes him want you even more. "Good girl," he murmurs, his hand tracing along the curve of your spine. "That's exactly what I wanted to hear."

Jude unbuttons his jeans and pulls down his boxers, taking his cock in his hand and grinding against your ass. "You can swear I'll ruin you tonight" Jude murmurs near your ear. Hearing his words and his cock pressed against your ass you moan.

He enters you in one thrust making you bend over the bed and making you moan. Jude places a tighter hand around your waist to keep you from moving. You gasp and moan loudly as he enters you, the pleasure and surprise sending shockwaves through your body. You feel completely filled, and yet, completely at his mercy.

"God,” you manage to gasp. "Jude, that’s… that’s so…”You're unable to continue as he keeps you still, his grip on your waist firm.

Jude groans and pushes himself harder into you, slapping your ass every now and then. “You take it so well, bunny,” Jude murmurs, grunting. You respond with a guttural moan, the mix of pleasure and pain driving you wild. You can feel his every movement, and it’s making you lose your mind. “You feel so good," you gasp. "So good. I can’t… I can’t get enough of you."

Jude grabs a handful of your hair making you arch up for more. “Do you like taking my cock rough, yes bunny?” Jude says purring near your ear. You whimper and arch your back, your body responding to every little thing he does. His words, his voice, his grip on your hair, it's all driving you insane with desire.

“Yes, god yes," you manage to reply. "I love it, Jude. You know I do. I want you, any way I can have you." He smiles smugly, hearing your words. He loves how much you want him, how much you need him. It only fuels his desire, his need to claim you as his. He pulls your hair harder, the pleasure of being rough with you mixed with a possessive need.

"That's right. You are mine, aren’t you?" he growls. "All mine. And I'm going to give you everything you want, bunny." You moan loudly, the combination of pleasure and surrender making you dizzy. You feel completely under his control, and yet, you love every second of it.

“Yours," you breathe, your voice quivering with need. "All yours. Completely and utterly yours, Jude. Please—"you moan.

Jude groans at your pleas and pushes himself even faster slapping your ass. “So needy bunny” he murmurs nipping at your neck. You gasp at the onslaught of pleasure, your body consumed with need. His words and his touch drive you crazy, leaving you on the edge of ecstasy.

"God, yes," you manage to gasp. "So needy, just for you. I can’t help it. You make me want things I never knew I needed." He smiles again, knowing that he has you completely at his mercy. He loves how much you want him, how you give yourself to him so willingly.

"And I'll give you everything you need, darling,” he purrs, his voice rough with desire. "Everything. I’ll give you everything I have to give, and then some." You moan, your body trembling with pleasure. His words only make you want him more, his promises of everything to give and more, fueling the fire inside you.

“Please,” you gasp, your voice trembling with need. “More, please. I need more. I need all of you.” He grins and grips your hips possessively as he fucks you quickly. In the room you can only hear your skin meeting and your screams. The sounds of your bodies meeting echoed in the room, adding to the primal atmosphere. You can feel the intensity of his desire, and it's driving you to the edge. Your scream fill the air, your body completely lost in the moment.

“God, Jude,” you gasp. “You make me feel so good, so wanted. I don’t ever want you to stop.”

Jude moans and grabs your neck making you dizzy kissing you as you continue to fuck yourself. Your body responds to his touch, and your mind is a whirlwind of sensation and pleasure. His kiss is dizzying, adding to the feeling of being completely consumed by him. "Yes," you gasp between kisses. "Don't stop. Don't ever stop, please."

Jude sucks your lip before spitting in your mouth. “So sexy bunny and all mine” he murmurs grunting as his thrusts into you became harder and harder. You feel a wave of heat wash over you as he claims you as his own. The mixture of desire and possessiveness in his voice makes you feel dizzy with pleasure. You moan against his mouth, the taste of him mixing with the feeling of him inside you driving you wild.

"Yours," you murmur against his lips. "Completely yours, Jude. I'm all yours." He groans in satisfaction, feeling your submission to him, your acceptance of being his. It only fuels his desire, his need to claim you even more.

"And I'm all yours, darling," he whispers husky. "You've got me completely wrapped around your fingers. I’m yours for the taking, however you want me."You moan at his words and hold onto him as you come. After two more hard thrusts he comes inside you.

He nips at your neck and pulls out, laying down on the bed making you straddle him. “oh bunny, don’t think I’m done with you” he says aligning himself with your slit. “you ride my cock like the good girl you are to me” he murmurs looking at you hungrily.

You gasp and shiver at his words, feeling your body respond to his commands. The mixture of pleasure and anticipation makes your head spin. “Yes, Jude,” you breathless. “I’ll do anything you ask. Anything.”

He slaps your ass while his free hand moved your hip making you ride his cock. "Good girl," he murmurs. You moan loudly, feeling completely enveloped in pleasure. His words and his hands on your body, guiding you, make you feel completely helpless against his touch. “Yes,” you gasp. “I’ll be a good girl for you, Jude. I’ll do anything you want me to do."

He smiles, satisfied with your submission. Your body is completely his, completely at his mercy, and he loves it. Jude continues to guide you, his hands on your hips, his eyes on your face, watching you as you pleasure him. “You look so beautiful like this, bunny,” he whispers. "So beautiful, so submissive. You’re all mine, aren’t you?” he hums giving you another slap on your ass as he pushed his cock into you making you moan.

“Yes, all for you” you say riding faster moaning, rolling your eyes from too much pleasure. You ride him eagerly, your hips moving against his, seeking more and more of his touch. The pleasure is almost overwhelming, and you feel yourself losing control. “G-God,” you gasp. “That feels so good, Jude. You make me feel so good. Don’t stop, please”.

His eyes, darkened with lust, never leave your face, taking in every expression, every gasp, every little thing that tell him how much you are enjoying this. “You’re so beautiful like this, darling,” he mutters, his voice rough with desire. “So completely mine.” You cry out in pleasure, riding faster and moaning.

“Yes, that’s it,” he encourages, one of his hands sliding up your body to your neck. He applies a gentle but firm pressure. You moan feeling his hand on your neck and you roll your eyes again in pleasure, moaning loudly.

He smiles as he sees you fall apart in pleasure, taking pleasure in the effect he has on you. He wants to see you lost in ecstasy, completely undone because of him. “That’s it, bunny,” he mutters, increasing the pressure on your neck slightly. “Let go, let me see how I make you feel.”

You whimper instinctively, the mixture of pleasure and pressure on your neck making you feel even more dizzy. You're completely lost in the moment, completely at his mercy. The only thing that matters is doing everything he wants you to do. “Yes,” you manage to whimper. “Please, more. Make me feel more.”

He knows what you’re asking for, and he’s more than happy to give it to you. He increases the pressure on your neck just enough to make you gasp, his eyes darkened with lust, watching every expression on your face. “Like this, darling?” he whispers huskily. "Is this what you want from me?“

You can barely speak, lost in the pleasure and heat of the moment. But you manage a weak nod, your eyes pleading with him to give you more. “Yes,” you gasp again, your voice a broken whisper. “Yes, please. More. Give me more.“

He smiles again, loving how much you want him, how much you need him. He tightens the grip around your neck just a little more, the pressure increasing the pleasure you’re feeling. “You like that, bunny?” he purrs. “You like being mine, completely and utterly mine? Letting me do whatever I want with you?“

You can only respond with a strangled moan, lost in the pleasure and desire he makes you feel. You want more, you need more, you want him to push you to the edge and keep you there. “Yes, Jude,” you gasp, your voice a hoarse whisper. “Yours. All yours. Forever. Do whatever you want with me, anything you want.“

You moan and bounce more, screaming in pleasure. “Jude I'm cumming” you say, your voice laced with pleasure. He grins, loving the sound of your pleasure. Your words and your screams are like music to his ears, and he wants to hear you scream his name even more. “Yes, bunny, that’s it,” he growls, gripping your hip. "Let go for me. I want to hear you” he said.

“Come for me, bunny,” he whispers, leaning forward to brush his lips against your neck. "Come for me, I want to see you completely undone because of me.“You wail in ecstasy, the mixture of the pressure on your neck, his voice, and the feeling of him inside you pushing you over the edge. "Jude," you gasp, your body shaking with pleasure. "Jude, oh my god” you scream.

"Yes," he mutters, his voice rough with desire. "That's it, darling. Let me see how good I can make you feel."He continues to hold onto your neck, applying just the right amount of pressure to keep you right on the edge, prolonging your pleasure as long as possible.

You moaned and bounced harder on him, riding him as you rested your hands on his shoulders.”YES,YES,YES,YES” you screamed coming on top of him. He grins, loving the sounds of your pleasure. You look beautiful on top of him, completely lost in the moment, completely his.

“That’s it, bunny,” he encourages, still holding onto your neck. “Scream for me, scream my name." You can't help but follow his command, your body and mind completely surrendered to him. Your screams fill the room, his name leaving your lips like a mantra. You’re completely lost in the pleasure and ecstasy he's giving you.

“Jude,” you gasp, your voice hoarse. “Jude, I… I can’t…“. Jude grunts and comes into you again, pinning your hips to keep you from moving.

"Yes," he gasps, his voice tight with pleasure. "That's it, bunny. Take it all. I want to fill you up." He holds you down on him, keeping you in place, his eyes locked on your face. He wants to see every expression, every shiver,every little breath.

You moan feeling his cum inside you and close your eyes keeping your hands resting on his chest, breathing deeply and smiling satisfied. He smiles too, loving the sight of you, completely undone on top of him. You look sexy and wrecked, and he can't help but feel a surge of satisfaction and possessiveness. "You're mine," he mutters, his hands still on your hips, his eyes locked on yours. "All mine, darling."

He leans forward, brushing his lips against your neck and planting soft kisses along your collarbone. "I hope you know that, bunny," he whispers, his voice still hoarse with pleasure. "You're mine, and I'm never letting you go."

You smile leaning against him, on his chest. “I love you Jude,” you say in a low voice, laced with pleasure. His heart skips a beat as you say those words, his heart full of love and satisfaction. He loves hearing you say it, loves knowing that you belong to him.

“I love you too, bunny,” he whispers, his arms wrapping around you in a possessive embrace. “More than you can imagine.”

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charliemwrites · 1 year ago

Text

Woof woof… whimper

(Part 10… but technically a continuation of part 9)

Content: Dub-Con/Non-Con, Knotting

It takes your cock-addled brain a second too long to process what Soap’s just said. What he’s implied. And by then he’s all ready for you to buck against him, confused and angry.

“That’s so — that’s not funny!” You shout.

But he’s got you pinned thoroughly, your chest flat against the mattress and your ass flush against his hips. His cock buried so deep you can feel the hot head of it bullying the deepest parts of you. All your struggling does is make you clench up tight around him, makes him feel that much bigger and meaner inside you. Makes him grunt low and ragged in your ear, all animal appreciation.

“I’m not laughin’,” he replies, nipping at your shoulder.

“G-get off of me, get out, get—”

His hand slides into your hair again, gets a firm hold at the roots and presses your face into the blankets, muffling your protests. Shushes you like soothing a panicked animal.

“Now, now,” he chides, “I still gotta prove I’m not compensating, don’t I?”

You suck in a breath, squeezing your eyes shut. There have to be a million explanations other than the absolutely ludicrous one he’s just presented to you. Cameras, microphones….

How did he know where you live?

How did he know where the spare key was?

How did he know where your bedroom was?

How did he find you at the bar?

Stalker, you tell yourself. He’s a creep, you’ve always known that.

Then where’s your dog?

“N-no,” you warble, bucking again. Nearly scream as his cock twitches inside you; only reason you don’t is because you can barely breathe as it is. He’s so deep inside that he’s practically in your lungs. “No way you’re my — there’s no way. You’re crazy. I’m gonna— ah!”

He draws out as you speak, gradual, and then plunges in again all at once, cutting you off. Grinds his hips in a dirty circle too, burying himself as deep as he can.

“Aww, poor thing,” he coos. “S’alright, baby, I knew this would happen. We jus’ gotta get all those big, scary feelings out first. Then I can explain it all nice and slow.”

You try to scream at him. Try to curse him out, tell him there’s no way in hell you’re listening to a word he says now; never mind letting him spend another second with his dick in you.

All that comes out is a high-pitched keen as he starts fucking you without further preamble. It aches, but you can’t tell in what way. If it hurts, if it’s the best you’ve ever had. Both? Your nerves feel haywire, brain dragged to lust-stupid depths.

“See, there we go,” he rasps, punctuating with a sharp snap of his hips on that last word. “My perfect little mate. Your cunt was made for my cock, made to be bred by me. Isn’t that right?”

You try to shake your head, but his grip keeps you from doing more than sending electricity down your spine, hair pulled taut.

“Yeah it fucking is,” he growls to his own question, canting your hips back further. His fingers grip cruelly into the flesh, sure to leave bruises. You wish you didn’t enjoy the sensation, wish it didn’t make you spasm around him helplessly.

“‘Bout time I owned you right back, don’t you think?” He continues, never stopping or even slowing. You yelp as he tugs your necklace again, arching your back at a steep angle. “Even collared yourself up for me. All it needs is my name.”

Something about that drives some awful, slutty part of your brain fucking wild. The idea of you with a tight leather choker — a collar — with his name (you don’t think about what name) hanging from your throat…

“Like that, don’t you?” He chuckles meanly. “Who’s my good little slut? Who’s my perfect, soaked little breeding whore?”

Tears spring to your eyes as you realize the “I am” is right there on the tip of your over-saturated tongue. If you had air, brain cells, any ability at all, you’d be crying it to the ceiling like the toy he’s treating you as.

He’s going to ruin you, you think. He’s going to fuck you broken. You’re crying and wailing on his cock, think you’d actually throw a tantrum if he pulled out and left you on the edge right now. Would, you realize in horror, beg for him to keep going.

And then he snakes his hand around your hip and starts rubbing your clit — fast, hard little circles. Just the way you like; the way you’d do it yourself. Relentlessly and cruel, even when you try to writhe away from how fast you can feel yourself getting to the edge. Almost frightened by it, how quickly he’s mastered your body’s pleasure.

Frightened by the extra stimulation at your entrance, too. A little extra friction at first — shocking because you’re leaving a puddle on the sheets. But then the friction becomes pressure, becomes… more.

“W-wha….?” You slur, hips wriggling.

Soap (Johnny?) snarls in your ear and that feeling at your entrance grows. Feels, you realize with alarm, like stretching.

“Gonnae take my knot so well,” he rambles, accent thick like syrup, trickling into your empty brain, filling you up with meaningless sounds. “Plug you up full of my cum, breed you right just like you need.”

Any questions or confusion are whisked away by the extra stimulation at your entrance. The sensitive nerves getting just as much brutal attention as your inner walls, your cervix, that sweet spot inside you that makes your eyes roll back.

It all becomes too much all at once and crashes through you, devastating. You clamp down around him tight and needy, lean all your weight back into his thighs. And he practically howls as he sinks into you and stays, grinding and humping without ever actually pulling out again. You feel a flood of heat that seems to go on for an absurdly long time, cock pulsing against your overstimulated walls, milked for every last drop.

You shudder as your brain tries and fails to process it all. Like trying to decipher a foreign language from white noise. It’s nothing but static to you.

You can feel a tongue against your shoulder, scraped of blunt teeth. Soap/Johnny licking the sweat from your skin and nipping bruises into the flesh. You make an annoyed noise that comes out whinier than intended, shoving at his face.

“Get off, you bastard.” Your voice is pathetic, thick with tears and fractured in a hundred places.

“Can’t, bonnie, even if I wanted to.”

You scowl, try to look at him over your shoulder. He takes that opportunity to nuzzle against your temple.

“What?” You ask. “What are you talking about?”

“Did ye hear me?” He chuckles. “Well, maybe not with the way you were screamin’. You’re all knotted up, baby. Can’t pull out — ‘less you want this pretty pussy to tear.”

You jolt, nearly yank yourself off out of pure fear, but Johnny keeps you still again, humming.

“Easy now,” he croons. “Still fussy? Need another to settle down?”

Useless as your brain may be, it recognizes what he means by “another one.” You think you might pass out.

“No,” you snap, petulant even to your own ears. “I want you to explain… explain everything.”

“Alright, hen. C’mere.”

He gently lays you out prone on the bed, then rolls you both on your sides. Hitches your leg up over his hip. You want to protest, but it helps the ache in your poor cunt.

“H-how are you still hard?” You pant, traitorous pussy twitching around him.

He growls in your ear, can feel him grinning against the lobe. “Will stay that way for a bit, lass. Don’ worry, you jus’ have to lay here all nice and still. Keep me warm while I explain things to you.”

And he does. How there are shapeshifters out there in the world, rare as they are. That he comes from a line of them. Recruited to military, as most of them are.

How he was on standard patrol when he smelled you for the first time.

“Like a wet dream, bonnie. Fertile. Spring. Smelled like mine.”

How he instantly knew you were his mate. That he just needed to make you see it. Never a good time to explain it all to you — and then there were interlopers and your silly little books and your pesky toys. How he tried to drop hints around the house, let you come to the correct conclusion on your own. But you never did.

“Honestly it’s a good thing I’m here, hen. You’re so oblivious. Lived with a man and never even knew it.”

That he tried to go about it the other way ‘round, as a man, but you’re just so stubborn. And then how it all led up to tonight. To you finally, finally realizing what you really needed: your mate.

You should be angry, furious. There’s a lot to say about… well, all of it. It’s horrifying and violating and… and…

And he hasn’t stopped bullying your clit since he started talking. Cruel, tight circles. Drawing the hood back with two fingers and stroke with a third, slow and languid and just soft enough to make your head spin. Rhythmless taps. Even pinches when you try to chew him out at one point, half turning to scowl. Instead have his tongue lapping sloppily at yours as your mouth gapes open soundlessly.

Makes you cum twice just like that without ever interrupting his own story, cock still hilted — knotted deep inside you. Honestly, you probably miss a good portion of it, some of the finger details for sure. But you get the broad strokes (among other strokes).

He licks at your overstimulated tears when he’s finished, nuzzling and kissing your cheek.

“I-I miss my dog,” you mumble finally, hands balled against your chest.

“Aww, darlin’,” he sighs, sounding genuinely apologetic. “We’re one and the same. I’m always your boy no matter what form I take.”

It would be more comforting if his dick didn’t throb calling himself your boy.

“‘Sides, I’m better than a normal mutt,” he continues, tugging you against his chest. You want to hate that is instantly makes you feel a little better. “Wolves mate for life, after all.”

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Masterlist

#sorry this is a little shorter but uhhhhh i never know where to go after smut #anyway hope yall like it #cod #my writing #fanfiction #reader fic #thoughts™️#dark fic #woof woof johnny #woof woof au #wolf john soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish

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