Demetra x Reader - "The Harvest of Love"
The sun was beginning to set, casting a soft orange glow over the fields as you worked, your hands moving with practiced ease through the soil. The season was shifting, the air turning cooler with the promise of fall, and the crops were beginning to show their abundance. A gentle breeze rustled the leaves in the trees, and in that quiet moment, you felt a presence beside you.
You turned, a smile spreading across your face as you saw her—Demetra, the goddess of the harvest. Her presence was always a soothing one, like the calm before a storm, though she never brought chaos. She stood there, her robes flowing like the soft curves of the earth itself, golden strands of sunlight dancing through her hair.
"How are the fields today, my love?" Demetra asked, her voice like the warmth of a summer afternoon.
You wiped your brow, chuckling. "They’re growing well, thanks to your guidance. You’ve blessed the land so much, I think it may just overflow with grain."
Demetra smiled, a gentle, content smile. "The land responds to care, to love, just as we do."
You stepped closer, your hands brushing hers for a fleeting moment. "I think I’m learning that."
Her eyes softened, her gaze lingering on you. “The earth has a way of teaching us—if we’re open to its wisdom.” She reached up to tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear, the simple touch sending a pleasant shiver down your spine.
"You’ve taught me so much already," you murmured, your heart swelling with affection. The bond you shared with Demetra was unlike anything you'd ever experienced. It wasn't just the beauty of nature, the abundance of the harvest that made her so special; it was her heart, so nurturing, so full of life.
Demetra leaned in slightly, her warm breath brushing against your skin as she whispered, "The true harvest is not in the crops, my dear. It is in the love we grow together."
You felt your chest flutter at the softness in her words. You had always known there was something magical about her—something that went beyond the powers of the earth. It was the way she cared, the way she loved, the way she made everything seem right with the world.
"Would you walk with me?" she asked, her voice inviting.
With a smile, you nodded, taking her hand in yours. Together, you walked through the fields, your fingers intertwined. The air was crisp, and the stars began to twinkle above, the first hint of night settling in. Demetra’s presence was so calming, and you felt at peace by her side, as if the world was just a little more balanced when you were together.
She pointed out the way the moonlight kissed the edges of the wheat, how the harvest would soon be ready, and how the earth’s cycle would continue. As she spoke, you could hear the deep affection she held for the land, for the very soil beneath your feet.
And in that moment, you realized—everything she said, everything she gave, was a gift of love. She was love personified, her essence tied to the very world you walked on. You couldn't imagine a life without her in it.
"Thank you, Demetra," you said softly, the words carrying more meaning than you'd ever expressed before.
She turned to you, her expression soft and knowing. "For what, my love?"
"For being here," you replied, squeezing her hand gently. "For being everything you are. I feel like I am growing with you."
Her smile was all the answer you needed.
And as the moon rose higher in the sky, you and Demetra continued walking through the fields, a perfect pair—rooted to the earth and to each other.
the definition of bisexual panic.
(so so happy for them btw)
this is so little!chris omgg !!! look at the way hes holding the sharpie :c
OMGG IT IIIIIIS 😭🫶
Gang I just watched Deadpool and Wolverine and all I gotta say is
If I don’t see any new Wolverine fanfics I’m gonna flip
after being being deactivated 3 times tumblr gonna allow me to reblog dick again we won
Dear friends 🫂
Our campaign is going slowly and we still do not reach 15% of the goal after almost three months since the campaign started💔🚨
as there is less than 1100€ left to reach it. 🙏
I hope you help me reach it as soon as possible. We appreciate your help no matter what it is🇵🇸🙏
Thank you💖🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸
Yessss
I need this next time I get high🤭
18+ mdni, collage au, use of marijuana, high sex, blink and you'll miss perv!vi, you smoke while she eats you (feral), spit, stoner!vi that got out of hand.
masterlist // requests // wc: 1,931
dealer!vi who’s deep down a damn loser when it comes to you, an unmeasured crush that started out when you bought weed for the first time and she got your number under the premise of talking to you whenever she had good stash.
she stares for a good while at her phone after, trying to find out a reason to talk to you without sounding lame, the last time she was so afraid to talk to a girl she was what? sixteen? so fucking lame.
dealer!vi who leaves in the middle of a party cause you texted asking is she was up and well, it's her fault when she's spoiling you rotten, constantly selling to you her very best stuff at a stupid low price: she wants you to keep coming to her, so she makes sure of making an undeniable offer.
she's knocking at your door and it's way to late to be in the streets, standing with her hands shoved inside her jacket as she waits for you to open up.
dealer!vi who's impressed actually by your rolling skills cause how the fuck did you learn how to roll a joint like that? you have such a good technique she finds herself looking at it, fingers in perfect control as they swiftly pour the green from your purple grinder into king-sized pink rolling papers — is it indirect kissing when you're licking the paper and she can visibly see strings of your saliva? must be.
she looks at you when you light up the joint and the air is quickly filled with the intense smell of weed, a subtle fruity and citric aroma as you passed her the joint. indirect kissing. indirect kissing when vi's smoking from the very same spot you did, sitting close to you after selling you a good amount of weed and accepting a sudden invitation to stay for a while and smoke, make the journey at least a bit more worth it and not leave after five minutes with you.
it doesn't have to be just pure business.
you're oblivious to it, but her gaze lingers in your legs and the subtle way your shirt rides up showing more and more skin without you noticing, worried you'll find out she's right there high and dry in your sofa.
stoner!vi who laughs at your jokes, leaning forward when talking to you cause even high she just thinks about how beautiful you are, eyes red, half lidded, relaxed in the comfortable of your small apartment close to the uni.
and like a good stoner she forgets about she's holding the joint at some point, too busy with the conversation, your company and the atmosphere you’ve so easily created, the ashes falling to the ground now. she has sold you marijuana for months, yet she's not able to talk to you for more than explaining you what strain she's carrying to sell until well — now.
liking your photos, flirting but not at all, it's absurd the amounts of times you appear on her mind without even trying to, messy haircut, she's sure you have a tattoo hidden under the winter clothes cause she can be a proud stoner, but she pays attention, at least when she wants something, when it comes to you.
"are you ever going to make a move on me, vi? cause i'm getting tired of waiting for you to snap out of it."
and maybe it's the weed, that dizzy and nice sensation on her chest that makes her smile, cause she's sure you're pulling her closer even when she's the one moving on her own.
"a move, you want me to make a move on you?"
you're taking the joint from her fingers and she swears it's the hottest thing she's ever experienced, the way you were suddenly so close to her only to pull away after, letting the smoke linger in the air when you light it again: she has felt that very same thing before, the awful need of pulling you into a kiss.
"i thought it was obvious when i texted you in the middle of the night, but you don't seem to get it much" the music seems to drown her unsteady breathing, the loud guitars by the speaker in the table while your bratty attitude only seems to turn her on even further. "should i spell it out for you? send a formal invitation?"
stoner!vi who's really bad in controlling her force when high, cause her hand fist in the fabric of your shirt and she's finally erasing the distance she was once polite to keep, moving you without much effort across the cushions to pull you closer to her, make you lay on the sofa to pin you down beneath her.
her muscles flex on top on you and she's finally aware of the effect she has on you, when she's finally kissing you and you're responding to her even when she barely touches you — so maybe it's not as lame as she thought, cause her kisses travels down your throat, messy, sloppy open-mouthed kisses she places as she holds you there, still and where she wants you to, not lame at all when you cannot control yourself either, squirming, already asking for more.
and fuck it's good. she can smell the subtle smell of weed in your clothes, and swear could choke 'cause you're parting your legs for her, a silent invitation she just gets with no need to spell it out for her now.
"gonna smoke it all by yourself?" vi's messing with you at first, watching you take the joint you forgot in your fingers to place it over your lips — "or are you gonna share that with me?"
stoner!vi who fantasizes with the thought of spitting right over your parted lips when she's helping you smoke, lighting up the joint as she sits on top of you. she's slower, but her hips press down against yours just right, and trapped in between her thighs is a damn sight. her blushed cheeks match her cherry hair who's much longer now since the first time you meet her, and you, a demon as always, let your hand find the skin beneath her shirt, the pad of your fingers roaming against her hip bone, trailing it down her pants.
with two fingers, she places the joint over your lips. your breathing collides against her hand, and she can feel the softness in your lips for a moment before you're blowing the smoke in her direction, slightly and for nothing more than five seconds but enough to make her think about kissing you again, yearning when she's stealing kiss after kiss, taking away the joint to have you pay attention to her instead. needy.
the weed makes her like that she'd say, but in reality vi's going to pieces even before her eyes become glassy. shambles when the music on the speaker is not enough to muffle your gasps, the irregular sound of your breathing after she slowly begins to ask you for more — hungry even when she's full fed.
she's building you up, taking her time since she dreamed about this a lot, and she desperately wants it to make it last, savor it as long as she can have it, so vi's dragging your shirt upwards, enough so she can see the obvious lack of a bra, latching on the skin of your breast until it's bruised and sensitive, purple because of her.
you do have a hidden tattoo, only for her to see.
yet it's her name on your swollen lips what she enjoys the most, how she's there in your lungs inside you, the sound of your moans when you ask if she could keep going. your always perfect hair lays now messy, and god she just want to imprint the sight of you in her brain, how your skin shiver when she's kissing the expanses of your belly, that flirty look on your face she can see even when she's completely on her knees for you already.
"you forgot about the joint again, peach" vi mutters against your navel, her chin presses against your stomach and the mere contact makes your skin burn "you okay up there? 'cause last time i recall i was invited to smoke with you love, you're making me feel a little betrayed here."
stoner!vi who likes the fact you're smoking from her weed. may seem stupid but she damn prides on knowing you choose her every time even when uni is fucking plagued with providers all around: you praise about her quality, chanting about how good your high was, how she never disappoints.
the world seems to stop against your skin, the time dies between your thighs, the intense smell of your arousal clouds her with longing and her mouth waters at the compulsion to lean forward.
"it's not fair, making me feel so- fuck so-" the words die on her tongue, cause your panties are soaked through, clinging to your folds and she's already drunk on it, lost in the haze as she looks up to you, barely illuminated by the lights in the apartment, the ember of the joint lighting every once in a while.
"talk to me," your voice is rough as your hand reaches down to her hair, taking the long strands of the mullet between your fingers — "how do i make you feel, huh? tell me vi."
stoner!vi who's a chaotic eater. she whimpers at your praises as her tongue laps from over your slick underwear, drool escaping from the corners of her mouth as her nose rubs against your sensitive cunt and she doesn't really care if she stinks like pussy after, if you're gushing all over her cheeks as she's making your underwear to the side; she's surrendering entirely, spreading you with her fingers and sinking her face in your puffy, swollen lips already sticky with a sheen of arousal.
she cannot seem to have enough, one arm tangled around your leg as she's comfortable enough to gather a good amount of saliva on her mouth so she can let it fall against your already leaky pussy, scooping it with her fingers to use it as lube when her digits are forcing themselves against your entrance, opening you up for her as vi's mouth sucks greedy around your clit.
so you forgot about the joint laying between your fingers as you hold her face against your sex, moving your hips against her mouth until she's looking at you through half lidded eyes and you can see how her face seems to glisten thanks to you. vi seems to be hitting all the nice places when her fingers scissors inside you, rubbing on your walls as you become pliant in her touch, inviting as you seem to suck her in deeper.
stoner!vi who pays attention, cause she's fixated in your face when you fall apart, dissolving into pleasure, splintering in lust for a brief moment she prolongs as much as it's possible, slowly pumping her fingers inside your tight entrance to keep seeing that pretty face all constricted in need, babbling about how good she's eating you, how full you are when her fingers fuck you dumb like that.
stoner!vi who shoves her fingers in your mouth right after fucking you, using her thumb to trace them along the seam at first, coaxing you to open them for her, pushing down on your tongue as soon as she's granted permission.
it's her turn to smoke now.
Sunday x fem reader fluff
It was a bright Sunday morning, and you were lounging on the couch, watching the sunlight filter through the curtains. Sunday Kalgorea, your girlfriend and famous influencer, was busy getting ready in the next room. You smiled to yourself, knowing that even though her followers saw the glamorous, polished version of her online, you got to see the real Sunday—playful, sweet, and always full of love.
You scrolled through your phone, seeing a new post she had just uploaded. It was a picture of her in her favorite dress, smiling that radiant smile that melted hearts across the internet. The caption read, "Sunny mornings are my favorite, but they’re even better with someone special." Your heart skipped a beat, knowing she was talking about you.
Just then, Sunday walked into the living room, her hair still a little messy from rushing but looking effortlessly stunning, as always. She saw you looking at her post and giggled, crossing the room to sit beside you.
“Do you like it?” she asked, resting her head on your shoulder.
“I love it. And I love you,” you replied, wrapping an arm around her.
She smiled softly, turning to kiss your cheek. “I know I spend a lot of time on social media, but you’re the one who really matters. Days like this, just the two of us, are my favorite.”
You squeezed her a little tighter, feeling so lucky to have her. “You’re my favorite too,” you whispered.
Sunday grinned, pulling her phone out to snap a quick selfie of the two of you cuddled together on the couch. She typed up a quick caption and showed it to you before posting: “No filter needed when you’re with the one you love.”
As the picture uploaded, she set her phone aside, turning her full attention to you. “Now, let’s forget about the internet for a while,” she said softly, “and just enjoy our Sunday together.”
And for the rest of the day, it was just you and her—laughing, talking, and making memories that no post could ever capture.
seeing some of yall get upset that joseph is with doja is honestly so funny. none of yall had a chance with him in the first place and secondly yes she’s problematic as hell but let’s not act like that’s the only reason yall are hating and claiming it’s “PR” 😭. his fandom is known to be racist, misogynistic and hypocritical as well so yeah let’s not go there. get well soon
PSA! you don't have to have smut in your fic to make it good.
for all the butthurt people in my reblogs, i’m literally a writer too. that’s literally why i made this post, never said you shouldn’t. just said you don’t have to? (all the people complaining about this post just know i’m laughing at your replies🙂↕️)
he’s so cute i’m obsessed w him
𝗰𝗹𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝖺𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗱𝗲𝘃𝗶𝗹 ෴ˋ ╸ 🂡 ⊰ 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝘁𝘄𝗶𝗰𝗲 𝖺𝗌 𝗽𝗿𝗲𝘁𝘁𝘆 ♡ i write story
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