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planete777 · 4 months

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I WANT YOU BAD・⁠｡♪ LN4

( lando norris x fem!reader )

IN WHICH. y/n (and a good joint) is lando's best distraction. (based on this ask)

WARNINGS. 18+, MINORS DNI!, drug use (as per), unprotected p in v, riding, lordddd they are filty, dirty talk, squirting, high hotness pt 345345, lando is in love with the reader (as per pt. 2), guys it's just filth filth filth

NOTE. yoohoooo im soo back!!! first fic release after like 3 months haha.... but it's high!lando so, forgive me plz 😔🙏 anyways, i'm slowly getting back into the groove of writing (i only wrote a tad bit during my break smh) and im sorry if im a bit rusty. hopefully, its only up from here. enjoy my dearest readers, and feedback is always welcomed <3

SIDENOTE. my askbox is open! feel free to send in any thoughts, scenarios, requests etc for lando 🤍

there's a gentle, warm thrum that bubbles beneath lando's skin, like a premise of excitement, tendrils of smoke tearing and stitching sentience with sluggish countenance. doesn't see a thing beyond a feet before him, and can't feel anything (yet feels everything) sauf the familiar radiation of body heat from the girl pressed limply into him.

two things for the price of one, it barely gets better than this. he feels like a magic act, cartoonish smears of smoke coalescing, then dimming as he inhales and exhales and inhales again. every taut stress from the day slowly flakes off his muscles, and succeeding another drag of the joint, he lets a gentle sigh huff out of him.

"better now?"

y/n's voice sounds like soft lace in his ears, and she snuggles closer into his shoulder, hand splayed, and weighty, upon his chest. she feels completely dead, always getting too high too fast, but never lets the warnings rid her of the euphoria. lando knows that, and can't blame her either; there's something unequivocally beautiful about getting high and losing the ability to connect one thought to another.

he shifts- he thinks he does so- rolling the spliff between his fingers before curling his lips to push out the smoke that began to scratch striations into his throat.

"yeah," he drawls out, "never go wrong with a good spliff."

y/n just barely giggles, palm rubbing up and down lando's chest. he swears he's on fucking fire, neurones charging and buzzing and crackling at every heightened numbness, and all he can do is take another drag.

there's a blanket of silence, comfortable and observing, before lando feels her, wantonly, drag her hand over his crotch then squeezes; and, jesus fucking christ, the moan that's punched out of him is ungodly.

"y/n- fucking hell," he leaves it at that, slowly swivelling his head towards her. she's smiling, largely and so gorgeously that lando feels like he's levitating. why is she looking at him like that?

"wanna fuck you, lan'," she whispers, redundant because it's already so damningly filthy, "make you lose your shit."

lando is struck speechless and completely horny, blood swelling his cock to where it edges pain, but god, does it feel so fucking good that all he can do is moan and tighten his grip on y/n's thigh sprawled across his body.

she smirks, sitting upright and slides to straddle lando, hips grinding heavily into his and the pressure is glorious.

"you like that, huh?" she bites her lower lip and presses harder, lando's head lolling to the backrest of the armchair. he could cum right into his pants if his motive wasn't to do it deep into y/n's cunt instead.

"you know i do, baby," he takes another drag, doesn't know how he musters the effort to, "you riding me is a sight."

she giggles, "just staring at my tits as i'm doing so, you fucker."

lando shakes his head, "nah, i meant all of you, baby. so beautiful," then he's smiling and pulling her into a kiss that's just tongue and want, lando gripping a hand around her nape. he can die like this, he thinks, encompassed in the feeling of a throbbing dick and a sloppy, wet mouth— all of it.

y/n curls her fingers around the hem of his joggers, lifting her hips- their lips still attached- and sliding them down his thighs. cool air caresses his cock, pulsating, weeping and redder than she's ever seen it before, lando moaning at the relief as it slaps against his abdomen.

"oh lan' look at you," she whispers, wrapping her hand around his cock (the way he squirms at that is indescribable), "you need my pussy that bad?"

it's all faux concern, but it does the trick, lando nodding and on the verge of sobbing when she clenches her fist.

"come on- fuck me, y/n," he's whining and squirming, hands grabbing at her shorts to tug it off after wedging the joint between his lips. she stands up, lando's hands trailing away as she goes to slide them off, crumpling at her feet. and all lando thinks is mylovemylovemylove. his skin burns like he's being dipped in lava, yanking his shirt off and throwing it to the ground.

the girl wastes no time crawling back into his lap, hovering over his erect cock as she takes both hands, spreads her cheeks and sheaths him in.

"y/n- ohh fuckkk-"

the slide— it's so so good, lando's losing his mind, he wants to ask 'no prep?' but fuck, she's taking him so well that he just shuts off. he pants roughly, eyes squeezing shut as she whines and bottoms out, feeling deeper than he has ever been. he's tingling everywhere, a shaking a hand plucking his spliff out of his mouth and unto the couch, feeling y/n's tight, hot pussy grip him with every inch of its life. and just when he thinks it's nearly too much, she starts to move.

y/n grinds and bounces like a fucking pornstar, shirt and bra she had on a few minutes ago strewn somewhere in the room, tits jumping and nipples swollen. oh, it's such a view and as much as lando wants to keep watching, a spark of pleasure causes his eyes to hurl to the back of his head, body flushed deeply and mouth slackened as it leaks a thick moan.

"your cock, lan'- shit, i'm gonna cum so hard," y/n's voice sounds so ruined and lando is obsessed with it, eyes opening as he gives her a small smirk. hands run all over her body- her legs, her breasts- before settling on her ass and languidly dragging it up and down his cock. y/n's reaction is immediate, trembling and crying out a high pitched moan that almost has lando cumming right there.

"i want you to cum so hard, baby. this is your cock," he huffs, hips thrusting upwards and slapping against y/n's ass. the sounds make his mind go static; it's so filthily good, skin hitting skin.

y/n smashes her lips against lando's as she works her hips harder, feeling the cold metal of his chain bind to chest. they can barely kiss, panting into each other's mouth- then lando's cock stabs her g spot, hard, and she's screaming and cumming, liquid running between her thighs and cunt squeezing lando so damn tight, he's pushing her hips into his, yelping, and spurting cum, thick and warm, into y/n.

"fuck fuck fuck- oh god baby, just like that," lando speaks into her skin, "just like that."

he rolls his hips to ride out their highs, pleasure setting deep in his veins before wrapping his arms around her and pulling her towards him, leaning back.

"fuck, i love you," lando whispers, pressing kisses into her shoulder.

"even when i squirt all over you?"

lando smirks, placing a kiss on her lips, "especially when you squirt, baby.

#‧₊˚✩彡 planete.thinks: high!lando #lando norris fic #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris smut #lando norris x y/n #formula one x you #formula one x y/n #formula one x reader #formula 1 #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 smut #formula one #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1

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starkeyisthelastname · 4 months

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step dad rafe?? plz 🙏 i beg

“Are you gonna let daddy see this pretty pussy?” Rafe’s voice soft yet demeaning as his fingers traced over the damp material of your panties. Your head shakes slowly as you make yourself look away from the man who was making you wet by just his gruff tone. You wanted to be good for him, but found yourself cowering away at the thought of being so naughty with the man your mother had married. The light slap to your thigh made you look at him once again, knowing you couldn’t ever really hide from him.

“Don’t get shy now when you and I both know you aren't.” He told you. “What would your mother think that you are soaking your panties for your stepdad like a slut?”

Frowning, you looked at him through thick lashes. “But- Rafe.” You whisper, him calling you such a dirty name making your princess parts feel funny. You were not a virgin, but still inexperienced despite you sending naughty pictures to the boys around the island. You then felt his fingers push your panties aside, ignoring your protest.

“But what? Don’t give me any shit about how this is wrong either other wise your cunt wouldn’t be leaking.” He told you, not wasting anytime in sliding two fingers in your tight hole.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron prompt #drew starkey smut #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey #obx smut #obx

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heizlut · 7 months

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Hello! Can I plz request where Aether, Venti, Gorou, Kazuha, Itto, and Diluc find out that their s/o is a submissive in bed?

ooo i like this!!! thanks for sending this in!

tags: gn sub!reader, dom!characters, rut (itto), worship kink (venti), no use of y/n

cw: semi-public in diluc and venti’s sections

nsfw under the cut

Aether~

Aether was so happy to have an s/o who could keep up with him as he travelled across Teyvat. It seemed he never had to worry about you no matter what dangers you faced together. You were headstrong, always taking the initiative when it came to accepting commissions and speaking up for the both of you when someone’s request was particularly unreasonable. You certainly were not afraid to express your distaste when a request was quite..stupid for lack of better words. Aether didn't mind letting you take the lead when it came to those decisions, secretly cheering you on when you spoke your unfiltered thoughts and feelings.

After a tiring day of getting absolutely no where in finding his sister, Aether was particularly pent up with frustration. He tugs you close to his body as he begins pressing feverish kisses to your neck, "Need you now.." You moan softly, tilting your head to give him better access, "Want me to make you feel better?" He pulls away slightly, looking into your eyes with a smirk, "Oh yeah? How about you get on your knees for then?" Aether challenged you, only half-joking, not thinking you would actually do as he said. His eyes widen slightly as he watches you obediently sink to your knees in front of him, looking up at him with such a submissive look in your eyes as you wait for his next instruction. He can't help the way his cock throbs in his pants seeing his headstrong s/o being so submissive for him. Growing slightly impatient with him, you open your mouth sticking your tongue out showing that you were absolutely serious about this. He tugs his pants down just enough to let his aching cock out, all leaky and throbbing. Aether guides his dick to your mouth, tapping it on your tongue as if to test how patient and obedient you would truly be. When you don't move on your own, he smirks and pushes his length into your mouth as he begins to fuck your throat, letting his frustrations melt away, "So good for me... fuck."

Venti~

Your relationship with Venti had the very obvious dynamic of golden retriever and black cat, with him being the golden retriever and you being the black cat. The people of Mondstadt are often baffled at the sight of you two together, wondering how such a cheerful bard could be with someone so... intimidating. Venti often joked that he had scary dog privileges with you by his side. Despite your outward demeanor, you were honestly quite silly and happily went along with his shenanigans. On this particular evening, you had found yourselves making out behind the Church of Favionious. Your lips press against his feverishly. You pull away slightly, looking at him with absolute adoration as you softly say, "Let me worship you properly" Venti lets out his signature laugh, his eyes hold a mischievous glint, "Oho! You wish to worship your archon~? Let's start with you worshipping Lord Barbatos on your knees then~"

Gorou~

Gorou was so proud to have such a strong warrior for an s/o. You fought by his side formidably, even helping him strategize against the Shogunates. You also weren't afraid to put any disrespectful soldiers in their place. He had to admit that your strong-willed and fierce attitude turned him on, but he secretly wanted to test if he could turn the tables. Gorou had no idea that watching him command other soldiers and lead the frontlines during battle had you wanting him desperately to show that side of him to you in the bedroom.

That night you approach his tent with a rather shy look on your face which instantly catches Gorou's attention. He rushes over to you checking you over for anything that might be causing you to behave this way when suddenly you gently cup his face in your hands, "Gorou.. I want to try something new.." You trail off, a blush falls over your cheeks as Gorou looks at you a little confused, "Something new? You mean you have a new battle strategy?" You shake your head, forcing yourself to look up at him, "I.. want you to command me like how you command the other soldiers.. I want you to... Take control of me.." Gorou's face heats up at your words, his cock begins to harden as he processes your words. His face quickly morphs into a sly smile as he pulls you close to him, his hand holding your chin with slight pressure as he tilts your face up to his, "You want me to be in charge?" He breathes out a small laugh, "Well, that can certainly be arranged. Now be good for me and get on the bed. Now."

Kazuha~

Kazuha enjoyed watching you help Beidou dish out orders to the other crew members. You looked like such a sweetheart, but you had quite the sharp tongue, never failing to catch unsuspecting people off guard. They never thought the s/o of gentle wanderer Kazuha to be so sharp with their words when the situation called for it. When you and Kazuha finally have your first intimate moment with each other, the poet of many beautiful words is suddenly...at a loss for words when you tell him that you prefer to be the submissive one. Kazuha takes your hand in his, pressing a kiss on top of it, "And here I thought you would be the one to want to take the lead... Not that I mind this development at all. In fact, I'm rather pleased." He leans forward pressing a kiss to your cheek and lowers his voice for only you to hear, "Although, I hope you realize what you've just signed yourself up for, darling."

Itto~

Itto loved being with you so much. You weren't afraid to get into a bit of trouble with him and the rest of the Arataki gang. Often times people would mistake you or Kuki as the actual leader of the gang with the way they would watch you both take charge of them in your own ways, with you leading the mischief and Kuki chastising you all when you get yourselves in trouble with the Shogunates.

It was nearing spring time which meant Itto would have to hide himself away from you, not wanting to overwhelm you with the rut he would have to endure as an oni, especially when you two haven't gone further than making out and feeling each other's bodies. You were concerned when Itto didn't show up today for the onikabuto battle he promised you, so you make your way towards his home completely oblivious to his rut. You barge right in as you usually would only to be quickly tackled to the ground by a large body, "Gah! Itto! You nearly gave me a heart attack!" You look up at your oni boyfriend only to notice his eyes are darkened with lust, "Sorry... Couldn't help myself. I.. need you" He ruts against your core causing you to let out a pathetic sounding whimper as he whispers apologies over and over, "It's my rut. Spring makes us oni a little..." You place your finger over his lips, "You don't have to explain. Use me however you please." Itto's movements halt momentarily, "Y'really mean that? Don't go saying stuff like that right now..." You roll your hips upwards to meet his, "Please..." A low growl rips from his throat as he tears your clothes off with his sharp nails. You definitely weren’t going anywhere anytime soon.

Diluc~

Having you as his s/o is like a sigh of relief. So many of his burdens with the winery and Angel's Share seem to lift from his shoulders when you take the initiative in organizing client orders and business deals so that he can have some reprieve. His heart swells with pride when you have no qualms in kicking out particularly rowdy guests from the tavern or even straight up denying Kaeya and Venti of more alcohol when they've clearly had more than enough of their fair share (and when Venti's tab has clearly met its limit).

After the tavern closes for the night, Diluc watches as you bend forward over a table while wiping it down and feels his cock stir to life. He approaches you hesitantly as he wants your first time with him to be meaningful. You straighten up only to feel him and his hardening cock pressed against your back. You bite your lip as you turn around to face him, looking up at your lover as he stares down at you with desire burning in his eyes. He gently caresses your cheek and softly asks, "May I kiss you?" You smile at his gentle approach to intimacy and you nod. He leans forward, softly pressing his lips to yours and then pulls away, "Was that okay?" You let out a soft laugh and place your hand on his chest, "Diluc... You don't have to be so gentle with me you know. I would do anything you want, no questions asked. I just want to make you happy and make you feel good." Your words make him pause, "Anything...I want?" You laugh softly again and repeat your words as you look up at him with love in your eyes, "Anything you want. No questions asked." He doesn't spare another minute in hoisting you up onto the table, immersing you both in hungry kisses and rough but sensual touches. You really have no idea what you've just sparked to life inside of him. Diluc can only hope you truly meant what you said because he wasn't going to hold back now.

a/n: pretty sure i blacked out while writing diluc and aether’s sections🥴 i tried to keep them as in character as i possibly could and i think i succeeded? i hope you liked this, anon!

#genshin smut #aether smut #venti smut #gorou smut #kazuha smut #itto smut #diluc smut #aether x reader #venti x reader #gorou x reader #kazuha x reader #itto x reader #diluc x reader

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crownofgildedlilies · 19 days

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my peaceful nights belong to you

in which: a son of poseidon has himself convinced a daughter of athena doesn’t want to listen to him complain.

pairing: percy jackson x daughter of athena!reader

warnings: angst, my poor percy has been through TOO MUCH

tropes: hurt/comfort, best friends to lovers

word count: 2.1k

a/n: friendly reminder that request r open (esp for headcanons) and bc I have a four hour layover tmrw I will be absolutely active on here. plz enjoy. also, this is inspired by a tiktok I saw that said Percy's trauma is so overlooked. so here's me not overlooking it.

All eyes were on the great Percy Jackson.

Yours were, too, don’t be fooled. You had always found him impossible to look away from. But it wasn’t admiration you were studying him with as tales of his quests were told and retold and embellished around the bonfire. Quests you had been on, each and every time.

No, you were watching him with concern.

Because the son of the sea was drowning in all the attention.

It was almost painful for you to watch, but you couldn't look away.

A beautiful train wreck, you supposed, studying Percy's uncomfortable but obliging conversation with one of the newer sons of Ares who hadn't been around for Kronos or Gaea and simply thought fighting in those wars had been fun.

But people had died. Your people, your friends. It was war, and it was painful, and even though you were the daughter of the war goddess, you hated it with every inch of your being.

No amount of planning on your behalf could have saved Beckendorf. There was no stopping Leo from sacrificing himself.

"That's called being a demigod," Percy had told you one day, offhanded, sometime between nearly dying in a volcanic explosion and being stolen from her by Hera.

"That doesn't mean we have to stand idly by and accept it," You had countered, frowning, and Percy must have realized he'd said something that had upset you, because he had pulled you into a hug and muttered an apology you still hadn't worked out was necessary or not.

But what you did know was that he was your best friend, that you had been in love with him since you were both fourteen, and he absolutely did not want to talk about all his past glories like a good little Greek hero.

Seated on a front-row bench with Grover on on side and an assortment of other campers you knew he wasn't close with surrounding him, you knew you had to run a rescue mission.

Especially since Grover was too distracted by eating his marshmallow roasting stick to realize how tense Percy was as the Ares kid went on and on.

"Perce, there you are." You wedged yourself into the not-entirely open spot next to your best friend, smile on your lips and a sly look in your eyes. Percy's own widened in sight relief, his arm wrapping loosely around your shoulders in a casual movement that was entirely too familiar. "Thought you ran off on me."

"Never," He sighed, some of his tension already dissipating. You grinned a little unevenly at him, not wanting to give the others watching any clues that the great Percy Jackson wasn't completely and utterly alright.

"Good," You bumped him with your shoulder, and he squeezed his arm around you for just a brief moment, tugging you close to his side. You had to turn and face the young Ares boy to keep yourself focused. "How are your archery lessons coming?"

The new camper looked slightly put out about the change in conversation, but you pinned your stare on him and didn't back down. For a moment, you thought he would continue to pester Percy with questions about fighting in two wars, even with you sending up very clear signals that neither of you were interested.

But the boy made the right choice, launching into a rant about how long range combat was not his strength.

Halfway through the story about almost shooting Connor Stoll's foot, you felt Percy lean towards you, his breath warm against the shell of your ear as he dropped his voice to a whisper, meant only for you.

"Thank you,"

Since you had taken half a seat, your body was pressed firmly against his from your ankles to your shoulders. His touch warmed your skin like a sunny day on the beach, and you weren't sure if it was a son of Poseidon thing or a Percy Jackson thing.

So instead of answering him, you set one of your hands on his leg, just above his knee, and squeezed.

The moon was shining over camp when you gave up on finding sleep and decided to sneak out.

You’d been around long enough to know just how to sweet talk Mr. D into letting you be out past curfew, and Chiron had a soft spot for you, since you helped save the world. Twice. It was the harpies catching you that you were afraid of.

Travis Stoll had almost learned the hard way that Mr. D was not kidding about them eating campers.

But children of Athena had passed on the secret to sneaking out through generations, and you were exploiting that very information for a midnight trip to the lake to stargaze there when you spotted movement on the roof of Cabin Three.

Really, you weren't in control of your own actions as you turned swiftly to change course. Maybe it was Tyche with her luck or Aphrodite with her meddling in the affairs of the heart that had you scaling the side of Poseidon's cabin, a path you had taken more than once.

Or maybe, for once, you couldn't blame the gods. Maybe you were the only one making the choices that had you settling on your back beside Percy on the slanted cabin roof.

He hadn't seemed all too surprised to see you, but all he offered in way of greeting was a nod before he returned to studying the sky above.

You only let the silence last for three minutes, a gnawing feeling in the pits of your stomach unable to let it be.

"Do you want to talk about it?" You asked, voiced simultaneously quiet and startlingly loud in the otherwise silent night. With your head turned to watch his side profile, you watched him tumble from his thoughts and back onto that rooftop, with you.

"What?" He was playing coy, you knew him well enough. What you didn't understand was why he was holding back with you, of all people. You, who had been there with him from the night Grover dragged him over Half-Blood Hill. Who had followed him and Grover and Annabeth across the country to save his mom, who fought Luke and Kronos with him, and mourned the loss of so many friends.

You, who hadn't slept for six months when he disappeared, only to find him in New Rome with the claim that he had forgotten everyone and everything but you.

His tether to his life. His best friend. His something more.

"About whatever is bothering you so much tonight." You shot him a flat look, but his was still doing a good job at avoiding your eye. Frowning, you nudged him with your elbow. "I saw you at the bonfire, Perce. Something is eating at you."

For a moment, it was silent. And then Percy drew in a deep breath, like he was readying himself for something, but he still hadn't looked at you.

"I guess I’ve just been thinking about just… everything." He sighed, but you could hear the apprehension and exhaustion in his voice. He was still keeping things back, but you couldn't understand why. And that killed you, as a child of Athena. "I've been fighting since I—we—were twelve. It's too..."

"Too what?" You prompted when he trailed off, his voice dying in the warm night air. Your hand brushed against his on the rooftop between your bodies, and you considered the risks of just grabbing his hand and squeezing to offer comfort while he sorted through his thoughts.

"Forget it." He shook his head, and your heart sunk. "You don’t want to hear me complain."

You frowned, twisting to face the sky and wracking your Athena blessed mind for some way to prove to him that you did, in fact, want to hear it. You wanted to hear anything, ever, that he had to say.

But when words failed you, actions didn’t, and you finally stopped pretending to accidentally brush your pinky against his and just wrapped your hand around his.

You both stayed like that for a while, quiet and thinking, until you turned your head to face him, unsurprised to find a stormy look on his face while he still studied the stars. Maybe he was thinking of Zoë, of all the others the two of you had lost over the years.

But you were thinking about him, only.

"I’ve been fighting with you since you came to camp," Your words were quiet, little more than a summer’s breeze brushing across Percy’s skin, but you knew he heard you. "But maybe now we’re not fighting monsters anymore. Maybe we’re fighting the memories and scars they left behind. But I’m still fighting with you, Percy."

He turned his head, then, his eyes finding yours like they were always meant to. And, deep down, part of you knew they were.

Every shared glance during combat, or after a stupid joke, or when a battle ended and all either of you could do was search the carnage for a hint of the other—those eyes had found you.

"I’m just so scared I’ll never get to live my life.” Percy confessed, voice hauntingly hollow. You squeezed his hand, and he squeezed back like a lifeline. “I don’t know if I’m running away from what’s already happened or into the next big mess. And what if next time… what if…"

He trailed off, eyes wide in panic, a bit of desperation. You squeezed his hand again, because you couldn’t give him the words. He needed to find them himself.

Percy screwed his eyes shut and darted forward, slotting his mouth over yours in an unexpected, horribly angled kiss. Teeth clashed together, your bottom lip caught in the mayhem and you gasped at the slight bite of pain.

He jumped back like you had burned him, propped up on one arm as he leaned on his side next to you.

"I, shit, I shouldn’t have—" He fumbled for words, already trying to shuffle further away from you, but you held tight onto his hand to keep him close, sitting up to follow him. "Please, let’s just forget about this, okay? I just, I got caught up in everything and—"

"Tell me you didn’t want to kiss me, then." You promoted, brows knitted together as you studied his face, desperate for a glimpse of how he was feeling revealed to you in the moonlight. "Because if you can’t say it meant nothing to you, you need to tell me, right now."

"I… can’t say it."

And just like that, you were the one kissing him, one hand curving around the back of his neck to keep him close while the other remained threaded through his fingers. His free hand reached up to cup your cheek, thumb brushing against your skin as if he needed confirmation that this was real, that you were real.

When you finally pulled apart to breathe, you didn’t go far. Not from him. Never from him.

"I was worried next time I wouldn’t get the chance to do that." Percy finished his thought from before, a little dazed from the kiss you both had been long awaiting, apparently. You smiled softly and closed your eyes, pressing your forehead against his.

"If you’re running towards the next prophecy, I’ll run with you." You promised, pausing only briefly to shift your position so you and Percy were laying on the roof again, only this time your head was propped on his chest and his arm was wrapped securely around you. "But if you want to sit up here and talk about the monsters you’re running from, I’ll do that, too."

"Thank you." He echoed his words from the earlier bonfire. And you could tell from his voice that he really was thankful. Because as tough as he was, Percy Jackson was still half mortal. "I…" He started, the air thick with tension about what he was going to confess. "I keep having dreams about Tartarus."

You let him talk, devoting your attention and mind to him, tracing shapes and stars and waves against his chest by your head while he spoke.

Time moved quickly that way, with talk of his fears and what weighed heavily on his mind broken up only when his throat would clog with emotion and you would tilt your head up to kiss away the memory long enough for him to regain his composure.

Because no one knew him better than you, and he didn't have to be the great Percy Jackson with you.

He could just be Percy, the boy who was haunted by his past and terrified of his future.

And you would give him all of your peaceful nights for him to have only one.

#percy jackson #pjo #Percy Jackson x reader #percy jackson fic #percy jackson fanfiction #Percy x you #Percy Jackson x you #rays of sun

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mxqdii · 8 months

Note

thigh riding with mattheo or theo plz?

your idea - mattheo riddle (18+)

pairings: mattheo riddle x reader

warning(s): thigh riding, dom!mattheo, dirty talk.

not proofread

it was all fun and games, just me and mattheo in bed, kissing, getting touchy, nothing unusual

i expected us to us to have sex like we normally do, but i guess mattheo had other plans in mind..

he grabs me by the waist, placing me on his thigh as he continues kissing me

"ride me baby, ride my thigh" he says casually

well shit, okay.

i start to grind on his thigh, feeling the friction build up

i let out shakey breaths at first, but once mattheo starts using his hands on my waist to guide me, it was all over.

he had control, even if i was the one on top of him.

he had me go tortuously slow, making me groan

"please just- please." i whine

"please what, princess?" he asks and i groan

"please go faster, i need it, please-" i whine and he immediately speeds up, not even letting me finish my sentence.

"this what you wanted?" he says and i throw my head back

the friction is undeniably good, im honestly suprised me and mattheo have never done this before.

my shakey breaths, soon turn into whines, which then turn into moans.

i feel the heat building up in my stomach, my wetness growing by the second

then it all stops.

i whine in defeate

"mattheo please" i beg and he uses his hands to lean on, head resting on them.

"you wanna finish? do it yourself. i wanna watch you make a mess of yourself" he says and i start grinding

i have full control on my pace now, although i do miss mattheos hands on my body

i feel that coil in my stomach building up, fast.

i'm not going to last much longer and he knows it

my moans get louder and my pace gets faster

"look at me" he says and i do, his soft eyes pushing me to my climax

"fuck! i moan, causing his hands to find my hips again, making me grind harder and even faster then i thought possible

"right there please i-" i yell out

he starts flexing his leg, the friction hitting my leg in the most perfect spot, sending me over the edge.

i let out a sharp cry, one that won't be leaving mattheos head anytime soon.

i lean my head against his chest, breathing heavily

he uses his hand to tilt my face up to him

"baby why so tired? this is only round 1." he says, positioning his hands back on my waist

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bobluvbot · 21 days

Text

late night cravings

pairing: sirius black x afab!reader summary: you sneak off the night for a cheeky midnight snack, hoping sirius won’t notice (spoiler alert: he does, and he’s sulky about it) wc: 4k cw: pregnancy & baby talk, descriptions of food and eating, brief allusions to sex (not directly stated), no physical traits of reader specified but sirius can hold things out of reader’s reach a/n: so i had a lengthy angst fic for sirius’s debut on my blog and im halfway done on it but i cant seem to finish it bc it sends me to a depressing spiral each time <33333 so pls enjoy a very self-indulgent domestic excessively fluffy blurb with my beloved <33333 p.s this is not proofread so plz ignore mistakes ty <3

opening the tomato salsa jar turned out to be the hardest part.

back in bed, you thought the trickiest part of your late night escapade from sirius black was his long limbs wound up tight with yours, even in low light of the small nightlight in the corner, you could still make out the intricate script and designs following the curves and dips of his strong arms, holding you close to his chest.

you had it committed to memory by now, having explored sirius’s body well enough to memorize the way his skin feels against yours, with heartbeats and breaths falling in sync without much effort.

judging by the way his breathing gets heavy after every exhale and the little snores that escape in between, you knew he was beyond knackered. it was day five of sirius’s new job as an deputy director at the auror office. the day he learned about the promotion was pure unadulterated happiness. after letting you know through an express owl, you mustered up enough vigor available to your seven months pregnant self to get out of the house and go to the local shops to get party supplies and food to celebrate sirius’s achievement.

Coming in third out of the list of things he genuinely loved in this life, after you and his luscious locks of course, was his job as an auror. young sirius had never thought in his wildest dreams that he’d work at the ministry, much less actually enjoy it. can’t really blame sixteen year old sirius, starting an underground rock band with the marauders seemed like the perfect thing to do after gruelling hours of studying at hogwarts.

defense against the dark arts came to him naturally, with some counterspells like second nature to him as being exposed with use of dark magic young gave him no choice but to grow up quickly and defend himself from the excruciating pain or the mind control that was from his own family’s doing. Winning the first wizarding war alongside his friends and found family has solidified sirius’s calling in eradicating the use of dark magic and making sure the next generation can have a safe and normal life without the looming threat of a megalomaniac sorting people with their blood status and taking over the wizarding world.

that night, sirius walked into a dark and eerily quiet home that had his senses on overdrive. but when the lights turned on and he saw familiar faces of his loved ones all beaming with pride, and there you were in the center, looking ethereal and round and all his, with his favorite red velvet cake on hand and a ridiculously big balloon that says “congratulations” tied to the candle, he could have melted in a syrupy mess of gooey happiness right then and there if he hadn’t caught himself together last minute.

Sirius had thought– that after you agreeing to go on one date with him to hogsmeade, winning the quidditch cup and seeing the proud look on minerva’s face, going home for christmas break and euphemia welcoming him with a kiss on the cheek and a warm hug, remus teaching at the very same classroom you all were in years back, james and lily’s first kiss at the altar, holding little baby harry in his arms, you walking down the aisle with a bouquet of peonies in the most beautiful dress, and when you held his hand that one night and told him that you were expecting—- that he knew of love. but you do something extraordinary that has him scrambling to add to the endless list of why you’re the love of his life. he was so focused on you that he wasn’t prepared to catch pure muscle of james’s body as he flung himself to tackle his best friend in a hug. luckily, remus with a party hat was aptly standing between a toppling sirius and the living room wall, and he singlehandedly saved the two from creating a huge hole in the drywall.

this was the life, sirius had thought after many hours of partying celebrating and eating, when he laid beside you in bed, limbs tangled, sated and dizzy and warm as you both came down from your highs. and he gets to spend it with you.

but as fun and exciting sirius’s new job is, it entailed an increased amount of responsibility as he was assisting the head auror. his least favorite part of the job was the boatloads of paperwork he has to deal with. An express owl almost dropped a howler letter into the soup you were making for dinner earlier that day and you opened it up panicking thinking it was an emergency. But no, it was just sirius whining that his hand hurt and is about to fall off and that he needs you to kiss it better.

You did eventually, and one thing led to another and here you were, tucked in your husband’s warm embrace. you could stay here forever, only separating to drink water and bathroom trips, but the gnawing urge to eat something savory, sweet, tangy, and crunchy has possessed your entire being, the only way to quell it was to get up and go to the kitchen. the baby doesn’t seem to have a semblance of time yet, a fact you both envied and despised, because the clock on your nightstand said it was 3:48am in bold red numbers. A few months ago, you’d never be caught dead awake at this time, taking your precious sleep time seriously. The man himself would poke fun at you and say you’d gladly sleep through an earthquake or a housefire just as long as you get your seven to eight hours of sleep per day, and despite of your assumed role of contradicting and arguing with spontaneous and stubborn sirius, you had to agree.

But this was not about you anymore, or at least not quite yet for a good seventeen years, so you untangle yourself from sirius and your perfectly warm and cool side of the bed and waddle down the carpeted stairs, careful not to set foot on the creaky step that might risk waking sirius up. You need your secrets too, and you’re not in the mood to share food.

Grateful for the heavens that you and sirius stocked up on groceries two days ago, you had a wide selection of random items to munch on. A few days ago, you were introduced to the idea of a fluffernutter sandwich while scrolling through the short videos on your feed. Peanut butter and marshmallow fluff as spreads on their own was something you didn’t mind eating, but both together in a sandwich? You were enthralled, and the only way to quell the curiosity was to make it. So you did.

You shovel and slather more than enough spread on each slice of bread, though you might have used the same spoon on both jars.. but who’s to tell you off otherwise, your snoozing husband upstairs? pfft.

Smiling happily as if committing a particularly naughty crime, you place the spoon in your mouth, licking off the gooey mixture as you place the sandwich on a piece of paper towel (yes, you take the no dishwashing tonight seriously) on the table. humming, you mull over what to prepare next.

The baby needs something savory and tangy, but you’re not particularly keen on going through all the effort of heating up the soup from dinner, not to mention the amount of cutlery and dishes you’ll use for that, so you zero in on the tostada shells you chose rather than tortilla chips because its much more crispier.

Opening the fridge, you see the laughing cow on a round packaging and decide its the one, so you grab two cheese wedges from it.

Sirius had argued that the next aisle had actual, real blocks of cheese with a variety on display and that there was no point in getting artificially flavored ones. But you’ve gotten really good at giving him the stank face, which inadvertently ends 75 percent of nonsense bickering before it even starts; and since you’ve started showing more and more, sirius has admittedly gone softer on you, not that he was ever more but a pushover your entire relationship. Merely widening of eyes and a jut of your lower lip, even adding a slight tremble or two during times where you did actually fuck up, sirius can’t hold his stance longer than a minute before sighing and taking you in his arms. he might call you out for being a brat at times, but there’s no denying he loves it. And so the artificial wheel of cheese wedges got purchased and bagged home, and you’re meticulously spreading it over the golden shells, leaving little to no gaps of it bare.

Laying it on another paper towel, your heart gets giddy on your chest knowing you’re in for a treat tonight. But not quite time to start munching, the baby reminds you that you still need something tangy to complete the meal. So comes your big predicament, should you get dill pickles or tomato salsa?

It took you ten seconds too long of weighing down the pros-and-cons of choosing one and feeling like you made the wrong choice if you end up not liking it. It doesn’t help that the pregnancy hormones make you more anxious and tend to put you always on the verge of tears. So when the not-so-groundbreaking idea of just eating them both hits you, you feel the weight slide off your shoulders as you sigh. Because again, who’s gonna tell you that eating pickles this late at night can give you bad acid reflux, your snoozing husband? Pfft.

Snacking on some, you do manage to pick out the juiciest looking pickle chips and lay them atop of your tostadas. You and the little one are beyond excited to dive in. It’s looking like a mini upside-down pizza with the cheese spread first then the pickle as toppings. Only thing left now was the the tomato salsa slathered on top to seal the deal.

Opening tight lids wasn’t an issue for you before, in fact, you took pride when friends hand you a jar or bottle to open because you could do it in a breeze. Chances were, the lid wasn’t even screwed on that tight, you were just built different, you’d say with a shrug once you give the items back. So when the tomato jar doesn’t budge after two attempts, you get puzzled.

Maybe your hands were slippery? You wipe them down with a tea towel and try again. No.

You weren’t holding it tight enough? Fingers held taut against the lid, you try three times. Still no.

Determined, you try different positions before letting the jar go, shooting it glares as if it’d get intimidated and just open up for you. You were also getting lightheaded, and passing out on the kitchen floor due to excessive stimulation of your vagal reflex because you were too stubborn to use magic or wake your husband up to open it for you doesn’t seem like the best way to spend the early Tuesday morning hours.

Magic was even out of the option (well, in your brain it was), because your wand’s tucked beside sirius’s on your nightstand, and frankly, you don’t have the patience to drag yourself upstairs just to flick a utility spell to open the wretched thing. So you do the next best option: lose hope.

The disappointment was mutual between you and your baby. And the acid reflux did start to kick in, making your stomach grumble in both hunger and pain. This was all going so well until it isn’t, tears began to make its way up to your eyes.

“See, this is what you get for being greedy and eating all snacks by yourself,” sirius huffs behind you, deep voice still raspy with sleep. You didn’t even hear him getting out of bed and coming down the stairs, that’s how preoccupied you were with opening the jar.

He grabs the container away from you to open it, but not without throwing a scowl at your direction, handsome face contorted with furrowed eyebrows and downturned mouth, enough to express that he felt betrayed by this whole ordeal. If you were in a better mood, you’d poke his sides and tackle him playfully, teasing him for being sulky. But for now, you need the jar opened so you could eat in peace. You’ll deal with the sharing food issue later.

“t wasn’t supposed to take long,” you mumble, caught off guard and refusing to make eye contact, pretending the fridge magnets beside sirius’s head is ten times more interesting than his face. You don’t miss his raised eyebrow and snort at your response.

The second attempt comes and he opens it with a satisfying pop. your mouth falls agape, eyeing the *now accessible* tomato salsa dip in disbelief. What the hell?

And you couldn’t even take the smug grin spreading across sirius’s face by the millisecond. Refuse to. You try to snatch the open container away from him but he holds it higher and out of reach, making a show of puffing his chest, flexing his biceps, even giving it a kiss. This is all James’s doing, you need to have a talk with Lily soon about keeping these two separated.

“Sirius!” you try to plead your way out. the trademark innocent, pouty expression settles on your face like a second mask, hoping he’d go down this easy.

It doesn’t work. He just chuckles, mocking your pleas and face while his free hand sneaks up and pinches your unsuspecting cheek to tease you further.

You yelp in mock outrage and swat his hand away, trying your best to keep your displeasure firm on your face, but you feel the giggles coming up. “This is why I sneak out alone to eat, you’re such a bully,” you huff, but take a seat in front of your makeshift spread.

Sirius places the jar near you, but not without poking your exposed sides, armed with the knowledge that the easiest way to get you laughing (and eventually conceding in an argument) is knowing where your tickle zones are. “Oh yeah,” he drawls, plopping himself beside you. “That’s also why you’re the only one waking up with an upset stomach, stinking up our bathroom so early in the morning.”

Now this one got you appalled, embarrassed, disturbed, basically hit with all the feelings. You’ve been living together long before you got married, and he never brought up this issue until today. “That’s it. I’m leaving.” He makes a move to snatch the sandwich away but the embarrassment on your cheeks made you more agile, swatting his hand away and shielding the sandwich with your hands. “After I finish my meal,” you continue, shooting him a glare.

But see, one of the things that drove you nuts even way back at Hogwarts, was how Sirius Black mostly managed to outsmart you or be one step ahead of you in everything. After you turned him down without much thought whatsoever despite his grand declaration of interest, Sirius took it upon himself to show you (1) that you made a mistake for rejecting him, (2) that his ego won’t let you embarrass him like that again, (3) and that you won’t get rid of him that easily. Once he set his eyes on you, you were face to face with him in everything: grades, OWLs/NEWTs scores, Quidditch plays and bets, wins at the duelling club, even with the fucking gobstones tournament. He never let you catch a break.

Things were surely different now, since you vowed to be with him in sickness and health and untill death parts you both– hell, you’re carrying his child. So you figured maybe, maybe, he’ll let you catch a break this time. Let you eat in peace as you mull over his bathroom comment and how you’re going to get him back.

But again, no. Unlike you, Sirius remembered to grab his wand from the nightstand. Not even batting an eye, he says nonchalantly, “Accio sandwich.” And the fluffernutter you protected with all your physical might managed to escape your watch, and land gracefully on his waiting palm.

What irritated you more from this whole ordeal? The prodigal auror that climbed his way up the ranks and became the youngest deputy director, fully capable of complex spells and wielding different kinds of magic, felt the need to do a verbal Accio spell just to make a point to you.

Out of words, you just stare at him blankly. Too stunned to even cry in frustration because you knew you made a conscious, willing choice to be with this man.

Maybe your best guilt-tripping expression comes best when you’re not trying. Color drains from his face when you remained silent and he scrambles to take a bite off the sandwich before handing it back to you, or rather placing it on your limp hand as you refuse to acknowledge it, still too hurt to budge. “‘m sorry, baby. Just wanted to eat with you since we didn’t get to earlier.”

He did arrive later than usual, deciding to finish the stack of case files and paperwork so he won’t have to sift through them again the next day. There were plans to wait for him before eating, but when the jitteriness and slightly nausea started to kick in, you had no choice in the matter. Sirius had been sulky and clingy the moment he got home, and as compromise, you stayed to watch him eat; listening and reacting animatedly as he ranted about his stressful day.

So you cut him off some slack, also exhausted from all the emotional stimulation sirius brought since he woke up. As a silent peace offering (also because you’re not ready to say sorry to his face), you slide the tostadas within his reach and finally take your bite of the goddamn sandwich. It was good, tasted as expected, sweet peanut butter. You’d probably have it again as a drunk at 3am meal.

Sirius also went and got snacks of his own: microwaved popcorn, pickles, toasted bread slathered with butter, and grapes. Together, you munched on the little spread of random food you could find in your kitchen at 4am in comfortable silence, which is surprising after the earlier bickering. No matter how cheesy it sounded in your head, sirius was the only person that can drive you to the brink of insanity and right back. You were in for a hell of a ride for the foreseeable future; and while there’s a lot of uncertainty right now and changes to be made when the little one gets here, you’re beyond happy that you get to do all this with him.

Sleep was beginning to creep up on you. Of course he notices this right when you do, so a warm arm wrapped across your back urges you to settle on his lap, bodies melding into the familiar crevices like puzzle pieces, though you both had to adjust certain angles to accommodate your growing belly. You sit like this for a while; your head tucked securely in the crook of his neck, steady breaths lulling you to sleep, while sirius’s hands instinctively finds its way under your sleep shirt and on the natural curve of your belly, lithe fingers stroking and drawing soothing circles anywhere he could reach.

you wish you could stay like this forever– cozy and soft and safe– but alas, you were carrying sirius black’s offspring. the baby decides to reward you with a round of kicks, probably giddy after feeling their father’s touch. Sirius chuckles and coos at your bump, while a muffled groan leaves your lips from the sudden onslaught of movement, but still refusing to move from this comfortable position.

Smooth cold lips touch the side of your forehead and you relish in the feeling. “Does it ever hurt, love? All that kicking and wiggling?”

“Not really,” a content sigh leaves your lips. “Feels strange at times, seeing your belly move on its own.”

To prove your point, two tiny bulges make a split second appearance just above where Sirius’s hand lay. His thumb soothes the area lovingly.

“Definitely getting stronger though; Lily told me during the later months, harry for some reason loved to kick downwards, making bathroom trips more frequent than it already is. Not excited for that.”

He presses kisses on your forehead, temple, hairline, anywhere he could reach without moving too much. “Things that you do and endure for this ‘lil troublemaker,” sirius murmurs. He doesn’t need to say it out loud, you could feel his body reverberating with awe and fondness. You try to bask in it for as long as you could, but a passing thought makes its presence known to you again.

“Do i really make the bathroom stink?” it comes out whinier than you intended it to be but you just had to know for peace of mind.

Sirius’s whole frame vibrates as he tries to stifle his laughter, taking you with him. He’s laughing at your expense but you feel your own giggles brewing in your belly. You try to hold it in for longer, preserving some self respect. “A little bit,” he says solemnly. You groan, earlier mortified feeling returning in full swing. It triggers another round of chuckles.

“But dove, it’s nothing that my deep love and adoration for my lovely strong hot and sexy wife can’t handle.” He says assuredly, and you curse yourself for being so down bad for this man as blood rushes to your cheeks from his words. Good thing it’s dim and your face is still tucked in the crook of his neck.

You do pinch his arm in response, and both your laughters compliment the comfortable silence.

“Although,” he says after a while. “The betrayal of you eating without me still hurts.”

“Siri.. i’m sorry,” you mumble. “‘y looked so tired, Didn’t wanna wake you up.”

He tuts and doesn’t say much after that. In sirius dictionary, this means he just wants some affection from you— for you to dote on him and coax out his forgiveness, even if you both know he’s not really mad; judging by his arms still wrapped securely around your frame and steady breaths that tickle and fan on your bare skin.

So you mimic his actions from earlier, planting tiny kisses on his neck, collarbones, jawline, anywhere your lips could reach. Kissing his cheek seem to do the trick, his fake scowl quickly coming undone as a bashful smile breaks through the frown, and his tiny dimple you love so much making an appearance. The muggle maternity books did say dimples are genetic, so an image of a little Sirius running around and smiling up at you with those dimpled cheeks is a warming thought.

“I am charming all the lids to be stuck at night as soon as i wake up tomorrow for work.” You poke a sensitive spot on his side, making him jolt, but you couldn’t resist laughter as it bubbles out of the surface. “You’re insufferable, I can’t believe I married a psychopath.”

“And you let him knock you up too. I’d say it takes one to know one, hm?”

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