or… michael can’t help but act like a lost puppy whenever you’re around.
wc: 850 ish
contents: valleygirl!reader, fluff, slight age gap (literally like one year), michael is one extremely awkward teen, one sided crush, reader is the it girl, a few cuss words, this is meant to get a part two, reader's race or appearance is not mentioned/described !
a/n: as a youngest sibling its really healing to write the brothers being mean to randy LMAO
request guidelines. masterlist.
Encino, California - 1976
By eighteen, Michael should’ve been over this.
You were older than him — not by much, but enough to treat him like he was still just Latoya's little brother. You called him cute sometimes, not in a flirty way, but more of a ‘throwing the weird teenage rabid dog that follows me around sometimes a bone’ kind of way. You were loud in that way that only pretty girls seemed to get away with. All glossy lips, big hair, and that valley girl slang that no one really understood. Half the time you were either sprawled across a couch beside Latoya, flipping through magazines or talking shit about people he’d never met.
And he had the biggest crush on you ever since he could remember.
Michael didn’t know when he first realized it, maybe it was the first time you flashed him that smile of yours, or when he saw a boy your age flirting with you at a record store in downtown L.A and got way more annoyed than he should’ve been. Or maybe the time he found you outside putting Band-Aids on little Janet’s knees before anyone else even noticed she had fallen and skinned them.
No matter when it started, the entire Jackson family knew that Michael had the hots for you, and bad.
“Uh-oh, Mike’s making heart eyes at Y/N again!” Marlon announced, loudly enough that you would’ve heard from across the room if Latoya hadn’t been barking out laughter at something you just said. Michael whipped his head around, scowling at Marlon, who sat on the couch opposite him.
“Mind your business, man.” he shot back quietly, prompting a fit of chuckles from Jackie and Marlon.
But they had a point. it was hard for Michael to look away as he watched you laugh with Latoya. You were wearing a delicate lace-trim tank top, the straps thin enough to make anyone over forty clutch their pearls, and those damn flared jeans you always wore that hugged you perfectly and accentuated your figure in a way that made him have to remind himself to breathe. At this point, it felt like every outfit you wore was specifically designed to short-circuit his brain.
“What’s your deal with her anyway? She’s kinda… ditzy.” Randy chimed in unpromptedly from his seat on the floor.
“Shut up, Randy.” the three boys responded in unison.
“Sorry, it’s just— the stuff she says, man.” Randy began.
“I get you, man. I don’t understand half the shit that girl be sayin’, talking like she’s from a different planet.” Jermaine said as he walked into the room, sitting by Marlon on the couch.
“Just smile and nod.” Marlon added, which made the rest of the boys chuckle.
“Whatever…” Michael muttered as he stood, trudging his way up the stairs and into his bedroom, which went unnoticed by his brothers as they continued to poke fun at the stereotypical slang you used.
Hours later, the sun was beginning to set on Hayvenhurst, casting a faint orange glow across Michael's features as he sat on the floor of his bedroom, accompanied by the stereo that played one of his demo tracks.
He sang along with the unfinished lyrics, nodding his head to a chorus that wasn't quite written. He rhythmically tapped his pencil on his knee as the track played, soft sounds of music drifting throughout the halls.
Michael finished singing the workshopped lyrics, the demo track beginning to replay as he wrote something down on the notepad in front of him.
“That was really good.” a voice interrupted.
Michael jumped, head whipping over to find the source of the mysterious voice, only to meet your eyes as you stood in the entryway of his bedroom, chewing bubblegum as you leaned on the doorframe.
“Thanks- ‘s not finished yet, though…” he mumbled, feeling heat crawl up his neck.
“You’re really talented, y’know.” you said sincerely, blowing a bubble with the pink candy, then popping it.
“Yeah, me and all my siblings are.”
“Nah,” you shook your head, then smiled. Not a condescending smirk like he’d seen you give his brothers on occasion, but something much softer.
“Not like you. No offense to them, but you’ve got something special. Hold onto it.” The boy nodded bashfully, his poor brain short-circuiting at the fact that you even addressed him directly. Michael could hear Latoya’s voice calling for you somewhere down the hall.
“See you later, Mikey.” you finished, your jewelry jingling as you casually walked off like you hadn’t just said something that would keep him up at night for the rest of time.
When Michael was sure you were gone, he lay down flat on the floor, dramatically sprawling his long limbs out with a fond sigh.
“Whew.” Tito let out a low whistle, peeking in the lovesick teen's door on his way down the hall. “He got it bad, huh?”
“Bad bad.” Jermaine agreed in a whisper as the two snuck past the doorway with a shared chuckle.
sero’s girlfriend is a bit of a bitch, but he doesn’t really mind.
18+, minors do not interact!
Sero is head over heels in love with his mean ass girlfriend. You're high maintenance and bratty, and your words are sharper than your stiletto-tipped nails. He doesn't mind any of that; in fact, those traits are some of his favorites. His calm, collected, laid-back nature is just what you need to cool the fire that runs in your blood. Sero would never admit it to anyone but you, the way your vicious words and the nasty bite of your tone always send blood rushing straight to his cock. He loves how mean you are, and how pliant you turn when he gives you what you want.
You hate everything in your closet? "Why don't we go shopping? Get you whatever you want."
You need a new necklace? "How much, sweets?"
You need your nails done? "You bet, babe."
Sero reaps all of the benefits of these things. He's in heaven when you trace your nails along the thick shaft of his cock, the sharp tips pulling soft whines from his throat.
"Ohh, fuck yeah, baby, just— just like that." He breathes out, his head thrown back as you cup his balls in your hand, digging your nails in just enough to push pleasure over the edge into delicious pain.
Sero's favorite view is the diamond choker he bought you sitting prettily on your neck, glinting in the low light of the living room. The sparkle of the jewels is accentuated by the movement of your throat as he stuffs his cock in your mouth. "Shit, shit, shit, so—mmph, pretty with my cock in your mouth." He groans, his dick kicking in your throat at the sight of the glossy red stains your lipstick has left on his skin.
His favorite pastime? Obviously, helping you choose new dresses and skirts, watching you model lingerie sets. "Come on, mama, spin around for me, lemme see." Sero drawls, watching you from the dressing room chair. There's a lazy grin stretched across his lips as he watches you spin for him, a pretty smile on your own face.
"You like it, Hanta? Wanna buy it for me? Pretty please?" You plead, leaning forward just enough to give him a spectacular view of the way the lingerie top hugs your tits.
"Shit, baby, you're killin' me." Sero groans, taking a look at his wallet. Nevertheless, you leave the store happy with three shopping bags, stuffed to the brim.
No, Sero doesn't mind your attitude at all. Not when you beg so sweetly for him to just "fuck me already" after what feels like hours of torturous teasing. He takes his time with you, enjoying the sounds of your wanton moans and pleas, holding your hips down as you squirm helplessly beneath him. Your thighs are aching and trembling with the effort it takes to hold them open while Sero absolutely devours your dripping cunt.
Sero eats you out for so long that by the time he finally stuffs his cock in you, you're an incoherent mess, babbling out a string of "thank you, thank you, thank you".
"Aw, now you wanna be nice, huh? Only nice t'me when you're getting what you want." He grunts, punctuating his words with harsh, mean thrusts. You let out a long, simpering whine when he leans his head down and bites your nipple, hard.
"'Se—Sero, 'm sorry! Please please please, gonna cum!" You cry out, scratching angry red lines down his back.
"Shit, yeah, that's it—ah! Cum on my cock, baby." He grunts, pawing at your tits with one hand, rubbing fiercely at your clit with the other. He clenches his jaw, clearly trying to hold back his own release. Your cunt clenches down tight around his cock when you do cum, pulling him along with you, painting your creamy walls with his thick load. He collapses on top of you, peppering your chest with short, sweet kisses.
No, Sero doesn't mind your attitude at all. He fucking lives for it.
tags: @sozila @dssstiny @kamislop @riotsgrl
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a/n: omg i'm finally getting to write this oneshot !! i've been wanting to do this for awhile now and i'm glad i've made some time to do it !! the reader in this is fic female and plus size !! i hope y'all like this and if you'd like to request some stuff you cannnn !!
content warning !: jealous/possesive sex, dub-con into consensual, choking, creampie, kinda predator/prey?, and use of "mommy" !
synopsis: reader stumbles upon an empty house with a lonely brahms, he hasn't come into contact with anyone since greta. though there's something different about you, once he gets his hands on you you're never leaving.
It had been such a long time since Brahms had seen anyone enter his home, after Greta he didn't really want anyone to be there. Yet when he saw you standing in the doorway, your soft figure glancing around the house confused, he was immediately enamored.
It was impossible for him to take his eyes off of you as you walked through the halls, occasionally calling out to see if anyone was occupying the house. He noticed the way your body shivered from your rain soaked clothes. Wishing that he could make you shiver with pleasure, but no, he needed to wait. The last thing Brahms wanted to do was scare you away.
The first night you stayed in the house, Brahms made sure his presence wasn't known. He watched you toss and turn in your sleep through the walls, the underwear you had on perfectly accentuating your round ass. The sight had him all worked up, he wanted nothing more than to take you in your sleep. But he didn't mind waiting, it just made him more excited for the moment to arrive.
The next few days you noticed strange things happening throughout the house. Doors being left open, loud footsteps creaking down the halls, and soon a porcelain doll appearing in random areas of the house. You really should have been scared for your life, a doll moving around the house as if it were alive? That's something no normal person wouldn't be afraid of.
It didn't bother you though, you found it quite endearing. Taking care of it as if it were your own child, and carrying it around with you while you did mundane things like chores. He had even caught you holding the doll on your hip, while preparing yourself some breakfast. Brahms could feel his heart growing soft for you, unlike something else, which was growing harder by the minute. While you were in your room, lounging around in sweats and a tank top, you heard what sounded like a child's voice.
'Mommy, please come help me.'
You froze in your spot. 'There's no way in hell a child could be in here right?' Heavy footsteps echoed down the hall, it sounded like they were coming for you. Your brain goes into fight or flight mode, and there's only one thing you can think of doing. You jump off the bed and run out of the room, practically flying down the hallway. The steps only get closer and louder. You can hear your heart beating loudly in your ears as you run down the steps.
'Please the door is so close.' It's so close you can almost reach it, but before you do a strong pair of arms wraps themselves around your waist. You scream out for help, hoping anyone will hear and come save you. Then it hits you, you're in the countryside...no one will be able to help. Brahms' large hand wraps itself around your throat, silencing your desperate pleas for help.
"Mommy, you can't leave me like that. I need you so badly, I promise you I'll be a good boy."
The child's voice you heard earlier, it had come from a grown man. Specifically a grown man that was rutting his hardened cock up against your plump ass and choking you out. His tone had an innocence to it—but what he was doing to you was nothing of the sort.
His hands were all over your body, not allowing himself to miss a single inch. Once he got his fill he turned you around and lifted you up into his arms like it was nothing, his strength sent a chill down your spine. He had the ability to pick you up like nothing, the thought of what other things he could do to you scared you.
You try to escape from his hold, squirming and wriggling around in his arms. He doesn't budge though and instead he throws you onto the bed, staring at your body. Your chest heaving up and down from the previous attempt at escaping. He wastes no time in tearing your clothes off of your body, leaving you naked and vulnerable under him.
Brahms pulls his cock from out of his trousers, the tip a bright red and his balls dragging from being so full. His mushroom head slides against your clit, gathering your slick and lubing himself up. A small moan escapes you due to the friction. His hands grab your thick thighs and push them towards your shoulders, putting your pussy on full display for him.
"Brahms...please. You can't do this."
He ignores your cries and lines himself up at your entrance. His head prodding at your hole and slipping in. "Ahhh Brahms!—" It takes a moment for you to adjust to his size, your hole clenches around him and it takes everything for Brahms not to start pounding into you mercilessly.
His grip is rough and bruising, you're sure it'll leave marks later. The tighter he grabs and pinches at your thighs the wetter you get. You lay there, allowing him to have his way. There's no way you'll lie and say it doesn't feel good, you're practically dripping all over his cock. The way his dick hits your cervix just right makes your vision blurry and star filled.
It only takes a few more thrusts before you're sent over the edge of your own orgasm. Babbling about how good his cock feels and how he's 'such a good boy'. The simple words of encouragement make Brahms fuck into your gushy pussy harder. His pace becomes animalistic, and knowing that he already made you cum, he begins chasing his own high.
The porcelain mask slipping up just enough for him to plant small but wet kisses on your neck. His balls slap against your ass, making you whine from slight pain. "Brahms baby, cum inside of mommy. I'm begging you, I need it."
With your words, his cum spurts deep inside of you, filling your pussy to the brim. His face nuzzles deeper into the crook of your neck.
"Mommy's so good, feels so good. Please don't ever leave me Y/N, I need you with me forever."
The high pitched voice he had before disappeared, now replaced with his real voice, gruff and deep. You tangle your hands through his curly dark brown locks, smiling to yourself at the man on top of you.
For the past few days, Sukuna has noticed a change in… things. You, to be exact- but also not exactly.
The both of you had been roommates for quite some time now, so change within one another is nothing new, of course, but this new thing was one which has occurred time and time again, so, naturally, as the time comes around when it’s most noticeable, Sukuna observes and takes note of this.
Apart from the more obvious things which anybody can notice – more irritable, easily agitated, shorter temper –, he’s noticed you become more fidgety. You pace more, tap your foot more, bite the inside of your lip, your nose and ears twitch, more lost in thought. And something which he always mentally harps on: you become hot. To the touch you become very warm. And as a result, of course you’re going to wear clothing to accommodate the change in your body temperature: t-shirts and shorts, tank top and shorts, no bra…
Not to mention the way you smell.
Oh, the way you smell.
It’s most obvious when you’re both at your guys’ shared apartment, more confined to a space where your natural scent can really fill up the place. And ohhhhh does he love it.
Suddenly it’s a lazy Thursday afternoon, you’re at the kitchen island seated, thighs plush against the plastic chair, curve of your hips accentuated, ears twitching when they touch the cold of the seat – and Sukuna is just… looking. Watching from the couch, facing your back.
Eventually you stand up and reach over the counter, bending forward, shorts ridding up your thighs, exposing some brief skin just before the crease of your ass, tail fluffier than usual…
He quite literally could not remove his eyes from your ass the second you walked out of your room and into the kitchen, subtly checking you out from the corner of his eyes while he pretended to focus on the show playing on the TV in front of him; though, the slight movement of his orange and black tail and sudden harsh twitch in his ear gave him away completely. Not to mention the soft flair of his nostrils as he continued to whiff your evident scent, licking his sharp canines and racking his eyes over your body. How could he not do something about this?
I mean, any good person would lend a helping hand to their roommate, right? So when he took the liberty to walk up behind your seat, lean over alongside you, and reach his hand to your phone which you had been trying to grab, using this proximity to get a generous inhale of that tantalizing musk of yours, “Need any help with that?” was the natural question, right?
“Help with what?”
He jutted his chin outward, eyes looking you over, canine peaking out, “Y’know…” his tail curled around your ankle, pupils finally meeting yours, followed by immediate dilation. “That…”
You let out a cry, white nails digging into the skin of his muscular back while he continued to thrust his hard dick in and out of you, despite you having just cum twice back to back with no break. “K-Kuna.”
His entire weight was on top of you, preventing you from having the possible chance of squirming out of his grip, but mainly to have better leverage and handle both of your bodies to continue delivering shattering after shattering thrust.
“What?” his deep voice husked onto the dip of your shoulder. “That dick too big? Hm?” he taunted.
His thrusts were ruthless. Rough, fast, hard. That was the Sukuna way. His motto really- slogan of sorts. If it were any slower, it would only be to switch positions or pull out and use his fingers instead, replacing his swollen cock to give himself time to recuperate. But there was no break for you. Oh, nonononono. No break.
He drilled his dick so far inside, plunging both his precum and the residue of your previous orgasms to what felt like as far as could possibly reach, caging his left arm on one side of your head with the other holding your ankle around his waist to steady himself. “This little bunny pussy can’t take my fat cock? Hm? Is that it?”
With the mindblowing pace he’s been maintaining alongside that constant taunting tone of his, making fun of the way you whine and continue to try and wiggle free of him, it… surprisingly only makes you needier…
After every loud and pathetic whiny moan, he responds, “Aww. Can the bunny not take it?” “Come on, you were being such a slut earlier. Begging for me to make you cum. What happened to that?” and things adjacent. Y’know- you get it.
After your third orgasm, Sukuna decided it was only fair that he got to share the same pleasure he was giving you. So, to step it up a notch, while you were limp and still catching your breath, he grabbed ahold of your legs and placed them over his shoulders, placing sloppy kisses on your throat in the process, feeling your sweaty palms weakly press onto his chest and attempt to push him away, though you both knew that your current state of sexual greed only wanted more.
Sukuna placed both of his hands onto your bed, aligned his dick with your dripping wet pussy, and moved his lips to one of your sensitive ears and whispered, “Does the pretty bunny wanna stop, or does she just like to pretend to not be a needy slut?”
Out of breath, mind all hazy – of course you didn’t respond.
He moved his face back down to be level with yours. “Hm? Don’t tell me she’s fucked stupid already. We were just getting to the good part.” He peppered light and sloppy kisses along your face, licking down your jaw and inhaling as much of your scent as he could in one breath.
Mockingly, though just as seriously, he nuzzled his head beside your ears and smoothed his tail over your skin, then wrapped it under and around your waist.
“Don’t you want to get to the good part, bunny?”
Your body is on fire. Rightfully so. You’re drenched in sweat and were already hot before he had flashed you his piercing eyes and pounced on you. And duh your mind’s all hazy, vision all blurry, words stuck at the back of your throat from screaming and whining for the past who knows how long – though… you’re not complaining.
“I jus’ wanna stuff this pretty pussy full of my cum,” he practically confessed as though you were a vice by way of his breathy and soft, yet raspy and hoarse, voice onto your shoulder. “Please, will you let me? Let me stuff my pretty bunny’s pussy full of me ‘till she overflows...”
The thick head of his already thick cock slowly pumps in and out of you, earning him breathy moans into the crease of his soft and fluffy, overly sensitive, ears. At this point, you were far too gone and fucked senseless to form coherent senteces, let alone thoughts, but since the both of you were much too eager to wait for you to try, there was no need to wait for him to continue.
“Tell me, baby.” Oh, but, of course, who is Sukuna if not stubborn? He picked his face up and met it with yours, eyelids heavy while his blown pupils looked down into your own. “Tell me you want it. Tell me you want me to cum deep inside this pussy.”
The wet squelches of your previous orgasms were heard with every slap of his pelvis down onto yours, though his ruthless thrusts and cock never made his voice or face waiver as he not-so-subtly anticipated your response; tail tightening around your abdomen, applying pressure down onto your stomach, feeling every ridge and vein of his dick slide deep inside of you.
It took a lot for you to say, “Please…” though it was quite soft, but good enough. Pathetic, but he liked that. “Please…S’kuna, p-please,” you practically sobbed, feeling the warm pulse that came from the base of his cock, your pussy throbbing to feel stretched.
“You think you can take this knot? Can my bunny take this knot, hm? Mmmm, I dunno–”
“P-please, Kuna- please, pleasepleaseplease, g-give it t’me.”
The second he heard that disgustingly pitiful plea he smirked, and with a twitch of his ear, he sped up in pace, growling and grinding his teeth when you bit down on his shoulder, slamming his pelvis down as hard and fast as he could given his own already fucked-out state.
“I’m gonna fill you up so fuckin’ good… Make you feel so nice and f-full- fuck-” And with a few final thrusts accompanied by your gasps and sharp nails scrapping his back harder than before, he shoved his swollen knot past your entrance and into your dripping wet pussy, releasing his cum all over your bruised walls and cervix.
As his hot cum flowed inside of your sopping pussy, you squirmed and convulsed with each wave of your own orgasm, plastered beneath his sweaty chest, dominated by his strength no matter how much you tried to flail.
Trying your very best, though your weakened strength is no match for him, you pushed his chest, scraped his biceps, bit his shoulder. Once the pleasure had begun to override the brief moment of pain, your arms clamped down on his back, pulling him closer with your legs locked around his waist, groaning and whimpering into his ear, arching your back off of the bed as he continued to fuck himself through both your orgasm and his own high, burying his nose into the crook of your neck and savoring how potent yout scent had become.
His groans were primal, sounding absolutely destroyed by the pleasure but just as exhilarated and excited by you; enjoying how his strength overpowers you with little effort, how much larger he seems with you beneath him, how easily you submitted to your desire for release and how he just as excitedly became your tool to chase it.
And despite it all – Sukuna’s taunting and acts of degradation, rough and ruthless pounding of his cock –, his low purring of comfort and satisfaction didn’t go unnoticed once you had both calmed down from your highs, and he slumped down on top of you, his entire relaxed weight rested.
All tough and intimidating, but once being exhausted beyond what he had in mind, he was surprisingly-unsurprisingly gentle and tame.
You placed a kiss onto the base of his ear, slipping your palms up his back and around his neck, also letting him adjust his body in a way which was more comfortable for him, to which he then slumped back down, wrapped his arms under you, and rested his cheek on your chest. “Needy kitty…”
☆┊all rights reserved @ preval-ence | prohibited to alter, reupload, or feed to ai ༉ ˚.
thinking about dealer! rafe and baker! reader where reader uses his scale to measure the ingredients for cookies
♡ — warnings : little bit of fluff, mentions of drugs
rafe could smell the sweet scent of vanilla wafting through the air before he could even open the flimsy door to your camper, the gentle sound of music playing in his ears once he spotted you in the kitchen area. there you were, your hair and your makeup done up all cute with your pink apron accentuating the curves of your hips. “hi, gorgeous.” your cheeks heated despite having been called ‘gorgeous’ by rafe going on a million times now.
he slipped in behind you, wrapping his large arms around your waist before resting his chin in the curve of your neck. “what are you making this time around?” he sighed blissfully through his nose as you reached down for a cookie and handed it to him. “well, it’s really hot out now, so i figured i’d make sugar cookies instead of chocolate chip since they’ll melt and all..” rafe broke the little treat in half, popping one piece in his mouth and feeding you the other.
he groaned, the damned thing basically melting on his tongue. it was warm, not too sweet, and the softness was just how he liked it. “jesus, babe, those are going to sell out for sure. did you do anything different?” you smiled upon hearing his approval, a small hum sounding from your lips as you pointed down to the black scale on the table. “yes, actually, instead of just eyeing how much sugar i put in, i measured it this time.”
it took rafe a second to register that he was staring at his own scale, and not just any scale, but the same scale he used to weigh out grams of both weed and blow. you were peering up at him innocently as he studied you for a moment. “where did you find that scale?” you faltered when rafe blinked away, a hint of a smile playing on his lips as he shook his head. taking off his backpack, rafe checked the contents of it just to make sure he didn’t have it.
“the top shelf..” you trailed off, your eyes widening as rafe rummaged through his bag. “the top shelf?” he repeated, “how did you even reach up there—” rafe looked past your feet and answered his own question when he saw your pink foot stool on the floor. “why?!” you slightly panicked, hoping you didn’t do anything wrong. “nothing, it’s just— me and barry use that to weigh our stuff—” you gasped, quickly getting it off the table before rafe could finish his sentence.
rafe watched as you frantically looked over all the cookies you already made, your worst fear coming true when you thought about having to throw everything away. “it’s fine!” rafe reassured you, “did you clean it off before using it?” you nodded, looking up at him unsure. “nothing actually touched the scale, right? you measured everything in a cup or something?” you nodded again, your shoulders falling in relief when rafe waved you off.
“don’t even worry about it, then.” rafe pulled you on top of his lap, wiping off the small bit of flour that got on your nose. “you just gave me an idea though..” he whispered, stroking the soft flesh of your thigh. “and what’s that?” you rested your head on his chest. “how would you like to expand your business and make something for a different kind of clientele?” your eyebrows knitted in confusion at his words. “what do you mean?” rafe motioned towards his backpack and the scale.
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୭˚. ᵎᵎ I personally believe that somehow the placement of the Union asteroid in your natal chart tells a LOT about where exactly you’ll meet your future spouse, and a lot of the time it’s even stronger than the Union persona chart. Someone I know has their Union asteroid in the 9th house, and she met her current partner during school. It’s at 3 degrees, so they’re also neighbours. Another example is one of my aunts, whose Union is in the 10th house in Leo at the 28th degree. She worked in the entertainment industry and met her current husband through a photo shoot, and they instantly became friends through that. Another example I can give is Princess Diana, her Union is in the 1st house in Sagittarius at 23 degrees retrograde. She met King Charles through a very personal encounter, and it was kind of a fated meeting too, since she was in the background and he noticed her and found her to be a perfect partner for himself. But that placement being retrograde, and most importantly at 23 degrees, which has a theme of divorce, eventually led to that outcome in her marriage. This is one of the most solid analyses I’ve observed over time, and I would DEFINITELY make a detailed post about it with explanations, potential meanings, and examples from people I know!!
୭˚. ᵎᵎ Scorpio rising. What do I even say about these people. GENUINELY some of the most iconic people I’ve seen!! Apart from all the general stuff we hear about them, one thing I’ve noticed among almost all Scorpio risings is their WAY with words. They have some serious power over words, it could be verbally or even through their writing, but their WORDS JUST HIT RIGHT. Taylor Swift and Frank Ocean are my top examples here. We don’t even have to talk about Taylor’s diverse writing, and same goes for Frank!! A friend of mine has this placement and she’s been in literally every debate competition possible, and won them.
୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ Taurus Moon people generally have a hard time moving on from things, and ESPECIALLY their exes. It’s like they’re somehow always missing the things that let go of them, people they were with, ex partners, friends, whatever. They have a REALLY hard time letting go of anything. It’s because they love hard and sincerely, and that makes it difficult for them to move on easily. Two of my close friends have this placement. One of them still feels bad and grieves for the friendships she lost, and the other one CANNOT stop drunk-calling her ex every chance she gets 😭. SOOO if you ever become friends with or date a Taurus Moon or any Taurus placement, y’all be prepared to not be free from them anytime soon 😛☝🏻
୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ We’ve all heard how dressing as your Venus sign makes you prettier, but from my observation, Mars sign works SOOO much better for this. To put it better, dressing as your Mars sign somehow makes you way more “attractive,” “hotter,” and if your goal is to grab attention, dressing as your Mars sign works SOOO much better. For example, Sabrina Carpenter has her Mars in Libra and it makes SO much sense with her dressing sense and the vibe she carries. I have mine in Taurus and I get sooo many compliments when I dress more feminine or classy. Britney Spears in her prime didn’t dress TOO over the top if you actually look at her outfits, it was minimal but edgy, if you know what I mean. There weren’t too many accessories ever, but she embraced her body type. That’s Mars in Virgo!! (I would LOVE to make a detailed post on all the zodiac signs with guides.)
୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ Very niche, but people with a Libra Sun look SO adorable with fuller cheeks 😭🫶🏻 It’s like their beauty just gets accentuated because of this, and it makes so much sense since Libra is ruled by Venus hehe. Also, I feel like Libra Sun people generally get more and more beautiful as they get older, like the phrase “aging like fine wine” suits them SO much.
୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ Uranus in the 12th house. I’ve seen this placement in a lot of “popular” celebrities, and it makes a lot of sense. Usually, these people don’t have much privacy in their lives and get misunderstood A LOT. It’s a very sad placement tbh, imo. People love to romanticize their suffering and make gossip out of it. Their love life is also kinda fcked up. Celeb examples, the best ones would be Kim Kardashian and Taylor Swift. I think that explains my observation A LOT. The BEST advice I could give to anyone with this placement is: DON’T be too emotionally available to anyone. Everrrrr. It’s already very difficult for you to trust people anyway, do journaling instead.
୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ People with the Sun in positive aspects with Jupiter, gosh, these people have an AMAZING sense of humor 😭☝🏻 I LOVEEE people with this aspect, and tbh they don’t even tryyy. They’re just unintentionally funny!!
୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ Venus conjunct Jupiter, one of the LUCKIEST placements to have. Istg, I can’t stress this enough. These people are lucky financially, AGAIN have good humor, and are veryyy positive people to be around. It’s like, if you ever meet someone with this placement, plsss don’t lose them!!
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Day 9 - “I can hardly wait to put a ring on that finger.” 🍒 + Lace or Lingerie 🌶️
Clark Kent X Reader
Summary: Clark overhears you being nervous about a new outfit, determined to reassure you, he gets more than he bargained for
PSA: @wildflowersandvibranium picture me writing this as fast a possible and hitting the post button like I just completed a run on American ninja warrior
Warnings: illusions to smut, Clark checking you out, reader is briefly insecure, mentions of marriage
Word Count: 850
Isla & Pink's Galentine's Event
Clark comes in with the wind.
A soft gust of air as he rustles the curtains in the living room, announcing himself to an empty apartment.
Except it shouldn't be empty.
No, you're supposed to be jumping into his arms and squealing an excited variation of "You're home early!"
He can hear your heartbeat, the familiar pitter patter easing any nerves. You're home, you're relaxed.
The the blood in his ears stops rushing he starts to hear more, your voice from downhall, muffled by insulation and doors.
The bedroom.
Clark makes quick work of his suit, leaving his boots and cape strew about as he makes his way to you.
"Are you sure it's not too much?" You sound nervous, a hesitant edge to the question that makes Clark furrow his brows.
Is what too much?
"Are you kidding me?" A voice crackles through the phone. "You look so hot."
He hears you hum, unconvinced by the answer.
"I'm just afraid of looking stupid, I never wear this kind of stuff."
Clark's confusion only deepens. His hand freezes on the doorknob, ready to enter and assure you that you would look gorgeous in a rut sack, but also trying to respect your privacy. You obviously decided to try on whatever it is while he wasn't home for a reason.
"Babe you look anything but stupid. I'm sure Clark will-"
At the mention of him name Clark decides he can only take so much mystery.
"Sweetheart you look-" the compliment, already half baked falls shorts when he actually see you.
You're standing in front of the full length mirror, neck craned to get a better angle of your backside as you admire the outfit in question.
Although now, Clark is quite sure what you're wearing doesn't even qualify as clothes.
Soft white lace curves to your skin, hugging it perfectly as if it was painted on. It climbs over your hips. Just a little higher is the bra, soft muslin cradling your breasts with tiny bows at the tops of the cups.
The entire piece only accentuates what's already there, what's already perfect.
What takes his breath, his words, his sanity away is what sits on your upper thigh.
The matching garter.
You're just as shocked as Clark, fumbling for your phone and stammering something about calling them back.
Then you're grabbing a robe, it must be part of the set, white silk half-hazardly held against your chest in a vain attempt to cover yourself. Your lips are moving, panicked and flustered as you tell Clark something.
It's like all the blood has left Clark's body, or more accurately, been redirected.
"Clark." You're in front of him, perfect and angelic and just a foot away and even though Clark really does love your face he can't stop looking at the silk separating him from what he can only describe as a masterpiece.
"Clark."
You break through this time, somehow, voice finally penetrating past his stupor.
"Are you hurt? Clark you're freaking me out."
You're worried, oh God he's worried you. He should say something, something good about how beautiful you look, how sexy you are, how he can't believe you're his.
"Wow." Is what he breathes out instead.
You relax, shoulders dropping in relief.
For a moment you remove the robe, pulling it away and giving Clark another peek at what lies beneath.
Then it's gone again, your arms pulled through the sleeves and before you tie it around your waist.
"Good wow or bad wow?" You ask, looking as though eye contact is suddenly very hard.
Clark lefts out a sigh, dreamy and lost in the magic that is you.
"Really, really-" his hand reaches out, grasping the tie on your robe and pulling it loose, causing it to fall open, "-really good wow.
You beam, insecurity gone as if you had chucked it out of the room yourself. "Yeah?" You ask, too busy looking up at him to bother tying the robe again. "It's for after the wedding, or maybe the first night of the honey moon I haven't decided yet-"
"Now?" Clark tries. His hands flinch at his sides, itching to touch. "Could it be for now?"
You giggle, leaning up and giving him a soft peck on the cheek. "No."
Clark sighs again, this time sounding just a little tortured.
You pull away, already half way through a joke about patience and newlyweds when Clark grabs your hand and spins you back to him.
Your punchline is lost, caught in the surprised yelp as he brings you chest to chest.
Pupils blown, Clark lifts your left hand to his lips and places a wet kiss to your ring finger.
"God," he whispers, reverent and wanting. "I can hardly wait to put a ring on that finger."
You melt, sagging into him with a smile like melted sugar.
Clark's other hand drifts, fingers tips dancing along your upper thigh until they find the lace band decorating it.
FIC REQUEST: Clark won't have sex with you and eventually he breaks and confesses it's because he thinks he's a bad omen and he's afraid that he's bad in bed and that's why the relationships always end, and he's terrified of things ending between the two of you. Pls don't include yall actually having sex but DO include the before and after! Thankies
clark kent x reader
word count | 1.2k
warnings | 18+ mdni recommended (this doesn't have smut but there are mentions of past sexual encounters so it's really just up to you), vague descriptions of sex, swearing
˗ˏˋ masterlist ˎˊ˗
Tonight was the night. You were finally, finally going to convince Clark to take your relationship to the next level. It'd already been four months since your first date and three months since you made it official, and you'd practically begged for it more times than you could count.
But somehow, every single time, he managed to find a way out of it. And it would be one thing if he wasn't ready or just wasn't in the mood. But you could tell he was forcing himself to stop. You could tell that he did want to. But he wouldn't tell you what was keeping him from doing it. He would just gently remove you from his lap, apologize, kiss you, and leave without another word, and it hurt your feelings. Bad.
The first time, he told you he didn't want to rush. And that was perfectly fine with you.
The second time, he told you the same thing. And again, you were totally fine with that.
The third time, he said he needed to go home and finish an article. You were less fine with that, but it was still early enough in the relationship that you didn't want to argue.
The fourth time was when he stopped explaining. He just shook his head, placed you on the couch cushion next to him, pressed a kiss to your cheek, grabbed his things, and walked out. You were confused, wondering if you did something wrong.
And every time since then, that's what he did. Shook his head, apologized, kissed you, put you down, and left.
He wouldn't even tell you what was going on, he just left.
So tonight, if he didn't want to do anything, you were at least going to coax an explanation from him. Because you could tell that he was keeping something from you.
And you looked especially good tonight. Tight tank top showing your arms and chest and arguably too short of shorts. And the sight nearly took his breath away when you opened the door to let him in.
You accentuated your cleavage as the two of you ate dinner at the table, using your elbows to press your boobs together.
And, like clockwork, you ended up on his lap, hands on his shoulders, hips squeezed by his thick fingers.
"Clark," you mumbled into his mouth, to which you received a 'hm?' "Take me to the bed."
You could almost hear his pulse pick up.
"Y/N," he grimaced. "I can't tonight."
You sat back and sighed. "You can't every night."
And, just like every time, he did what he did every time. Once he had his jacket on, you followed him down the hall and stayed about ten feet back from him. And when he had the front door cracked open, you let the words you were holding back slip out.
"Are you not attracted to me?" you asked, crossing your arms. He froze and closed the door back, setting his stuff down on the floor.
"What?"
"Because if you're not, then can we stop doing... whatever this is?"
"Who said I wasn't attracted to you?"
"We've been seeing each other for four months now, Clark. And every time we get even a little bit intimate, you make up some bullshit excuse to leave. And you know, the first few times, I believed you when you said you wanted to take it slow. But now... It's been so long. And you haven't told me why you won't have sex with me. So if you're not attracted to me... We need to end this."
"I am attracted to you."
"Then why won't you have sex with me?"
He sighed. "It's not you, it's-"
"'It's not you, it's me'? Yeah. I've heard that one before."
"It's true. It is me."
You scoffed. "Yeah. I'm sure. Just go, Clark. Go home."
"No, just listen-"
"I don't care. I don't. Clearly we want different things. So go home."
As you began to turn away, you heard him blurt out, "I'm cursed."
You turned back to face him, eyebrows dipped down.
"You're cursed."
He nodded. "Look... I've done the beginning of a relationship a few times. And, like it's fate, it always ends right after we have sex for the first time. Every time. I've waited a month, I've waited a few weeks, and I've even done it on the first date."
This made you raise your eyebrows. You can't imagine Clark having sex on the first date. He just seemed like the kind of guy who needed to really connect before taking that step.
He continued, "And every time, no matter what, it's the last time we see each other. I always get a text that she's lost interest or something. And I don't think it's a coincidence. So it is me. I'm cursed."
"So, what? You think you're bad in bed or something?"
"That's what it seems like. I do my best, but I don't think it's good enough. And I really like you. Probably more than I should this soon into this. And I'm afraid... I'm afraid that we're gonna do it, and it won't be good for you, and you'll break it off. I don't think I can handle that, Y/N. I really don't."
You sighed. "You know, every woman is different. We all like different things."
"I know. I'm just... I'm worried I'm just not good. In bed. And that I won't be able to please you."
"I mean... You just have to try different stuff." You walked over to him. "Trial and error. But you have to be willing to try."
"I am. But the thought of it causing us to break up-"
"Clark. I like you for you. And if you are bad in bed, I'm willing to help you get better. But you have to give me a chance. Please? I've been practically throwing myself at you- begging you for it this whole time."
He took a deep breath before you pulled him down for a kiss, and he reached down to scoop you up, carrying you into the bedroom.
-
Twenty minutes had passed since your back hit the bed. You were drenched in a thick sheen of sweat, your legs trembling, and your lungs working overtime.
"Jesus, Clark," you said when you caught your breath. He looked over at you, eyebrows raised. "I don't know why those women ended things with you, but I'd be willing to bet it's not because of your skills in bed."
"So it's my personality?"
You chuckled. "Maybe they just didn't feel a connection. Because if you were fucking like that with all of them, I can't imagine they'd be willing to end a relationship over that."
He let out a sigh of relief. "You have no idea how good it is to hear that. I've spent so long thinking I was just unable to please anyone."
You rolled onto your side and propped yourself on your elbow, looking down at him. He reached up and pushed your hair out of your face, then cupping your cheek with his thumb right below your eye.
"You're so pretty," he whispered.
You kissed him before mounting him again, his hands on your thighs.
"Think you can go for round two?" you asked softly, kissing his jaw.
