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skelliko · 29 days

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๑-context: a summer activitie with them

๑-featuring: kazutora, chifuyu, Baji, Mikey, inui, shinichiro, Kokonoi, Rindou, ran, mitsuya,

°- kazutora hanemiya

• exploring abandoned places and going so far out into the city, climbing over fences just to get into the buildings and running from the police or other pedestrians that had caught you trespassing in someone else's property even though it's not like you both are doing anything harmful there. your just enjoying each others company whilst getting excitement in exploring new places that may be even a little dangerous but what's a little fun if you don't 'ball it'

°- chifuyu matsuno

• making hand made jewelry is a cute activity, you had to teach chifuyu how to tie the string right otherwise it'd come loose but after he got the jist of it y'all were making many sets of matching bracelets that you wear all the time in different colours and patterns. though sometimes it gets frustrating when it comes to tying the string and you can't seem to get the loop right or when your fingers accidentally let go of one side of the string and then all the beads fall downwards and both of you end up crawling on the floor trying to recollect every lose bead, but that doesn't happen often.

°- Baji Keisuke

• forest walks, not all the time but sometimes he'd suggest wandering around a forest, picking up weird shaped branches to show you, finding a bug on a leaf and if you don't like bugs then he'd be a nuisance about it and chase you around with the it. but if you have a heart with bugs then hed look around trying to find the coolest looking one specifically to show/give you and he'd dedicate to it even if he does occasionally get a little grossed out by them.

°- manjiro sano/ mikey

• constant motorbike rides! if you have your own motorbike then the both of you will be riding till you reach the end of earth and seeing which one can out do the other. but if you don't then you'd be latched on at the back of his bike and going with the flow of the wind to cool off from the heat. mikey would also try teaching you how to ride a motorbike, he's more patient with you than anyone else so you can take your time with taking in the information so that you know how to switch gears and dont attempt in going through a wall.

°- Inui seishu / shinichiro sano (I couldn't decide)

• due to him being in the bike shop and working on fixing some motorbikes here and there, there'd be trips to visit him holding a sweet, cold treat to give him on his lunch breaks. though when you're teasing him a little too much he'd purposely smear his oil grease stained fingers across your skin to leave a large, black mark and it'd cause a small fit of smiles and laughter but also some small annoyance on your side as you have to scrub the mark off from you by the sink.

°- Kokonoi hajime

• perfect time and weather to go visit new towns and enjoy the beautiful scenery that neither of you thought you could see until now. browsing into small business shops that you haven't seen/been into before and if something catches your eyes that you'd die for to have then Koko would buy it for you in a heartbeat because seeing you smile with light in your eyes at an item makes him want to keep you in that gleaming mood.

°- rindou haitani

• spontaneous night outs where you start the night to be all cozy watching a series with a tub of ice cream to then be all dressed up and sparkly after one text or phone call from rindou mentioning a club is doing a certain theme. the both of you may seem to be there for the party but actually it's the attention you both bring, getting all dressed up is the fun part and most of the time you do it together and have matching outfits or accessories, give everyone around a sight to see and only then do you give your all with the drinks and dancing.

°- ran haitani

• constant need to be in the pool or anywhere that has water, especially on hot boiling days when a 5 minute walk would feel like 5 hours. in the day you'd usually go to an outside pool and enjoy yourselves and then at night you'd have to pamper him since he's still affected from the heat, he has no tolerance. you tend to go to public ones but only those that you know are clean and have decency of others, essentially public pools that kids don't go to.

°- mitsuya takashi

• summer is the perfect time for him to work on summer clothes and you always happen to be his muse meaning you're the one who he always dots down your measurements and your always the one that tries the clothes on and half the time you tend to keep the clothing. if you wear dresses then sun dresses are always something that he enjoys sowing for you, you spinning around as the dress flows and spins with you, he doesn't make those basic ones but rather he puts in a lot of detail just for you, making it adorable and flattering. but if you don't wear dresses or such clothing then he always considers what kind of material he uses, that way for the hot days your not melting and instead you feel more free and feel a breeze.

♡----

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wayneskluv · 1 month

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it’s possible she wants you back ¡! ❞ | n. romanoff

summary: your super cool assassin gf broke up with you but she wants you back sooo win win ig | pt 2 with fluff/smut?

word count: 711

pairing: natasha romanoff x gn!reader

warning: mentions of alc/nat being drunk, use of petnames “love” & “baby”

authors note: i would let her do anything to me but i'd also give her a hug and tell her everything's gonna be okay & the use of y/n, i had to for it to make sense, please forgive me 🙏

NATASHA thought breaking up with you would be for your own good, she didn’t deserve you. She was always late for date night due to her duties as an avenger, she had consistent nightmares that kept you awake and she was jealous of anyone who, well, looked at you—she couldn’t really blame them though.

“Baby..” Her whines echoed from behind your front door, from where a slightly intoxicated drunk as fuck Natasha was located. She was too drunk to be able to knock on the door, but you knew she was there, you knew her voice.

You take a deep breath, before you place a trembling hand on your door handle and gently pushing down as if it would break if you looked at it. "Jesus, Nat." A small sigh escapes you as you register her pathetic state, your hand instinctively reaching out to prop her upright. You haven't seen her this drunk in years, and she, most certainly, was not a lightweight.

"C'mon." You gently guide her into your living room, being as delicate as humanly possible. You sit her down on your couch, though as soon as you let go, she sprawls out lazily. "Gotta sit up, Nat. Don't wanna be sick.” You sound like a disappointed parent berating your child, because as much as you were mad at your ex, you loved her with your entire heart, and you still cared about her immensely.

You begin to rise to your feet, to go grab her a glass of water, before a pitiful hand drapes across your arm. "Please, Don't hiccup leave me." If it was anyone else, you'd have pushed them off immediately but you couldn't ignore her pleading eyes. "Yeah, 's okay. I'll stay. 'm not going anywhere."

As you speaks, the thick stench of liquor floods your senses and you feel ever-so-slightly ill. "Nat, love, what happened?" The breakup was fresh, the pet-name was a slip of the tongue, but you couldn't go back now—it’s not like she'd remember in the morning.

"Miss you. So, so, so much." The words roll off her tongue in a drunken slur, and you wouldn't have heard them if you weren't paying careful attention to her. You felt sorry for her, in all honesty-sure, she'd broken up with you without telling you why, and sure, she'd been acting distant, but she seemed genuinely upset.

"You still haven't told me why you broke up with me." You let out a dry chuckle, your shoulders untensing subtly as you notice her slowly regain colour to her face. “Okay, I'll tell you, but you can't tell y/n." The drunken hush she tries to add to her elevated tone is adorable and you have to stifle a grin as you nod, mock seriously. "| promise."

Once she gets your confirmation, she pauses for a few seconds as her head throbs harder, but then it slows and her eyes meet yours. "I was worried I wasn't good enough." Oh. That's not what you were expecting. You were expecting her to say it was something you did, like put an empty peanut butter jar back in the cupboard or anything, really, she has a bit of a temper.

"Really? So it's nothing I did?" Your voice goes up three octaves as you glance down at her, nervously biting down on your bottom lip. "What? 'Course not." It's clear the alcohol is taking a toll on her, and she looks as if she's going to vomit all over you.

You let out a slightly overdramatic sigh, “You take the bed, l'll the couch.” Your arm loops down around her waist, carefully pulling her up off the couch—if you weren't holding her so tightly, she'd had fallen head first into the ground.

The sound of hiccups echo your apartment as you both walk into your bedroom, something she was rather familiar with. You took no caution in letting her drop onto your bed, though you made sure she was in a proper sleeping position to avoid choking on her own vomit.

She falls asleep almost immediately and it's the first time since you've broken up you've seen her look so peaceful. You stand in the door for a few more moments before reluctantly dragging yourself toward the couch.

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff x reader #marvel mcu #mcu #mcu fic #mcu x reader #wayneskluv

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theemporium · 8 months

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Foreplay with norstappen when lando cums in his pants and is a bit embarrassed but y/n and max assure him they find it hot

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

It was hot.

So unbelievably fucking hot that it made his head spin. His body felt like it was on fire, his cheeks were burning up and he couldn’t tear his dazed eyes away from the sight in front of him. He didn’t think he ever wanted to look at anything else again.

Maybe it was the stress of the upcoming season. Maybe it was the fact he had been away in England for the last week because of meetings and factory visits. Maybe it was because Lando was a simple man with simple desires, and everything in front of him was a wet dream come to life.

Or maybe Lando was just really fucking weak when it came to you and Max.

He had landed not even a few hours ago, finally coming back home to your shared flat after a week of messages and late night calls. He wanted you. He wanted Max. He just wanted to be at home with his people again.

And somewhere between the greeting kisses and murmured catch-ups with a show playing on in the background, Lando found himself sprawled across the bed with you on top of him, hips rolling and grinding down on his painfully hard dick. Max was behind you, his fingers threaded through your hair as he tugged your head back so he could kiss you.

Lando tried to hold himself back. He tried to grip the sheets beneath him and think about anything except the scene in front of him, but your hips kept rolling and Max was moaning into your mouth and he just couldn’t help himself.

He let out a pathetic whimper as a rush of pleasure ran down his spine, hot and white and breath-taking. His face burned in embarrassment when he realised what he had just done, and now he wanted to be anywhere but near you and Max.

“Stop, stop, stop,” he exclaimed, catching both you and Max off-guard as he lifted you off his lap before he pushed past the two of you to try and make it to the bathroom.

“Lando?” Your brows furrowed together as you reached for him but he jerked away from the contact. “Babe, what’s wrong? Are you okay? What happened?”

“I–” Lando closed his eyes when he felt hot, shameful tears well up on his lash line. “It’s nothing. I’m fine. I just…I need a sec, okay?”

You shot Max a look, your concern only growing tenfold.

“We can stop, it’s fine,” Max murmured as he took a step closer to the boy, his hand resting on the Brit’s back. “Just tell us how we can help.”

Lando let out a low groan as he covered his face with his hands. “It’s embarrassing.”

“You can tell us anything, baby, you know we would never judge,” you murmured as you stood up off the bed, moving closer to your boys.

“I—” Lando paused as he let his shoulders drop, turning to face the two of you as he tried not to wince at his next words. “I…finished.”

You both stared at him. “Okay, and?”

“And it’s embarrassing!” Lando retorted, his cheeks flushed a pretty pink colour. “Look, let’s just not talk about this ever again and pretend it never happened—”

“Lando,” you called on him softly, stepping forward to take his face in your hands so he couldn’t turn away. “I was humping your dick, I’d be more offended if you didn’t come.”

“But…I usually do better than that,” he muttered.

“You haven’t seen us or touched us for a week,” Max reminded him. “You missed us. It happens. It’s hot. It’s no big deal.”

“It’s not hot, it’s embarrassing,” Lando grumbled.

“I agree with Max,” you said as you wound your arms around his neck. “It’s hot, baby. It's so hot that you can't help yourself.”

Lando gulped slightly.

“Do you like watching us?” Max murmured as his fingers gripped Lando’s chin, turning his face to look at him. “Answer me.”

“Yes,” he whispered his confession.

“Knew you were a little freak,” you teased jokingly as you nosed his jaw. “Do you wanna keep watching? Wanna watch Max absolutely ruin me?”

Lando’s eyes fluttered shut. “I—”

“Words,” Max reminded him, his voice a little sterner this time.

“Yes,” Lando whined. “Please, I just…please.”

You grinned as you glanced at Max before turning your attention back to your other boyfriend. “Anything for our good boy.”

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loxare · 11 months

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On their wedding day, he put his hand to her cheek and called her the most beautiful woman in the world.

He could have been correct, from an objective standpoint. Truly, she was one of the beauties in town. Her curls always in perfect order, her smile plump and joyous, her figure comely, even hidden modestly beneath clothing. From an objective standpoint, he was wrong, as nothing about beauty is objective, but none in the town would have disagreed with his assessment.

They spent several years together, in loving bliss. They built their house together, they planted their garden together, they grew together.

And then came the day that a hole in reality opened beneath him. Without thought, she jumped in after, a bare half second after he vanished.

When she opened her eyes, she was somewhere else. The stars were different, and wrong. There was the wrong number of moons, and the sun was the wrong colour. But the worst, most egregious wrong was that he was not there next to her. This, she could not abide.

She had nothing to her name besides her labour, but that she had in abundance. She travelled, from town to town, trading hours of work for food and board. She taught herself to draw, and she drew her love. Over and over, she drew him. In the dirt, on walls, on her own clothes. Asking, always asking, if any had seen him. Eventually she acquired paper and ink, and drew her husband again. Her inquiries became easier, more frequent, although the answers never changed. For none had seen her love.

She learned many things as she travelled. She learned how to fix a carriage wheel. How to tend to livestock and how to weed a garden far larger than the one she had known. She learned to shape a bowl from clay and to chop timber and to carve wood. She learned to fight off brigands who would take from her her sparse money, her life, or worse.

She learned other things, about this place she was in. It was a place where many came, and few left. A nexus one called it. A refuse heap, another said. But the method of arrival was always the same. One moment in the familiar, the next falling into the strange. But the people were the same, for all that they were often of alien appearance. Some looked down upon her dirt covered hems and worn boots. Some ignored her. Most were willing to at least listen to her question, to look at her picture, so carefully drawn. To keep an eye out, and pass on a message should they find him.

Time passed, and passed, and passed. The world she came from did not have things such as magical crystals or soul mates or wizards, or if it did they had none of the power that those here did. Regardless, one town she stayed in recommended she find the local witch, for they specialized in red strings of fate.

And so she did. The witch gave her a bowl of stew and a comfortable chair, and then listened when she spoke, and looked carefully at the drawing. It was a different one. She had drawn many, over the years, as the old ones wore out, and as her skill increased. And the witch said that they did not know if he was indeed her soul mate, but if he was, then the red string of fate that they revealed would lead her right to him. She need only follow it.

It was not an easy ask. The witch wanted a blanket woven by her own hands in payment. And so she stayed in the town, longer than she had stayed anywhere. She traded her labour and her art for thick wool, and weaving lessons. It was near winter before she had a result she was pleased with, carefully folded in her arms to be presented to the witch. The blanket was unfolded immediately upon delivery, shaken out to its fullest extent. The blanket was scrutinized, for quality of the weave or for something else that she could not fathom. Finally, the witch nodded their head. They turned back to their cottage, moving to close the door. She protested, concerned about her end of the bargain, but needn’t have worried. For around her finger was tied a red string which hadn’t been there before. The end led off, through the woods.

And so she followed it. She followed it through fallen leaves. She followed it across rivers. She followed it through snowbanks and through melt waters and through hot summer sun. Finally, she followed it into a clearing on a mountain. And fell to her knees in despair. For in this clearing was nothing but moss, and the end of the string, fading into nothing.

She did not have long to weep however, as a hole in reality opened above her, and down he fell. Without thought, she moved to catch him.

He was just as he had been on the day she had left him. And as he opened his eyes, she suddenly felt ashamed. For he was here, perfect and whole and young. But it had been years and years for her. Her hair was frizzy and knotted. Her lips were thin, her hands were rough, and her figure both hard and flabby at once.

But he opened his eyes, and he called her name, and she nodded. And he smiled at her, and called her the most beautiful woman in the world.

On a truly objective standpoint, he was incorrect. Both because beauty was not within the realm of objectivity, but also because there were many women who could be called more beautiful, subjectively.

But she also knew that he was speaking nothing but the honest truth. For he loved her. He loved her, he loved her, he loved her. He loved her hair, frizzy as it was. He loved combing it free of knots, and helping her braid it in the mornings, and loved tucking flowers into it, to surprise her when she looked in the mirror. He loved her smile, and loved seeing it, and loved being the cause of it. He loved it when she spoke to him, when she told him of the things she had done, and what she had learned. He loved her art, even as he blushed darkly at being her only subject. She taught him what she knew, and delighted when he found particular pleasure in pottery. They travelled, to find a home that suited both of them. The first time she defended him from brigands had been a terrifying and yet exhilarating experience for them both.

And they built a house. With a room full of paper and clay. And a garden, and a loom. And always, forever, she was the most beautiful woman in the world.

#Loxie's fics #story time #hmmmm thoughts #this might be a folk tale in the book I'm writing #It's like. *related* to a main character's plot arc #but not entirely #but it might also just exist here and in my thoughts #long post #I suppose

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calisources · 2 months

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𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐔𝐀𝐋 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐄𝐗𝐔𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐐𝐔𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒.

All these quotes are taken from different works of fiction and depict sensual, sexual tension between two people in different scenarios. There are some that are suggestive while others are more detail so this meme is nsft and usft, please tag accordingly. Mentions of jealousy, possessiveness, sex, fantasies are all here. Change pronouns, names, locations as you see fit.

I knew the first moment I saw him that it was going to be raw, it was going to be ugly, and I was going to enjoy every damn minute of it.

You're still looking.

You make it hard to look away.

I'm over here keeping my hands and memories to myself because you asked me to, that’s not fair.

If you'd just man up and admit there's something between us, I would strip down to my skin so you could see every single inch of me.

How long are you going to make me wait?

How awfully presumptuous of you to think I'd let you.

You missed my arrogance almost as much as I missed your impudence, little one.

You said not to fall for you. Did you change your mind?

We both needed to blow off some steam, and we did, right?

They say the colour of a lady’s lips is an exact match to another region on the body?

You're too soft.

Can we go back to making out now?

You sound jealous.

Then tell me this is what you truly want. Swear you want this more than anything else and I'll never mention it again.

If you want me to play the bawd, at least give me the benefit of your advice.

Tell me how it's done. Do you think she'd like it if I came to her like this, if I looked deeply in to her eyes?

And then like this? Is this how I ought to seduce her?

You're wet, aren't you?

You drove me mad.

She asked me not to be gentle with her, either,I would have been gentle with you, though.

I would have had you moaning my name throughout it all. And I would have taken a very, very long time, Feyre.

I'm all yours to look at, you know.

You need to let me go, darling, before we start something I intend to finish.

Feel free to touch, darling. It's all yours.

. . .I hate you.

Say it again.

Grind it. Nice and fine.

I gave him a few smiles and he handed over a family heirloom. I bet he'd give me the keys to his territory if I showed up wearing those undergarments.

Why shouldn't I? You seem to have difficulty not staring at me day and night.

Am I supposed to deny, that I find you attractive?

Is that a challenge, Feyre?

Do you think it's fair that you have seen every inch of me, and I have seen none of you?

Move with me now.

Touch me anywhere you please.

I want you to make love to me.

Do you know what that truly means?

You do know? You know that I will be inside you and that I will move inside you, until we are both mad from pleasure?

I want you inside me.

You have three minutes to get ready now.

I did dream about you. I didn’t want to, but I did.

What was I doing in your dreams?

Someone is watching us through the window.

All the more reason to put on a good show.

You're not in a position to make demands.

The best things are found in the most secret places.

And you are a beautiful, sexy temptress who is about to be fucked by a man who wants her so desperately he's willing to do anything to have her.

When I'm with a woman, it's not me doing the begging.

You're rubbing yourself all over me. What did you think was going to happen?

I thought you were all about self-control.

I remember how powerful those thighs are.

You are more beautiful than I imagined.

And your skin... Christ, it shimmers like gold.

I'm naked underneath.

Tell me----did it get you off knowing I was watching?

I want to take you under the moonlight.

Please, don’t stop.

Oh, so I shouldn’t? That would be cruel of me, wouldn’t it?

I am the cruelest man you will ever meet, but, I will make you feel so good, you will not care.

I’ve never been with a man before.

You do bad things to me, Carrie. Very bad things.

And you, Miss, are no lady.

#roleplay memes #sentence meme #( cali meme. )#rp memes #rp prompt #rp musings #roleplay prompt #usft tw #usft meme #smut meme #suggestive tw

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pia-nor481 · 3 months

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Oscar Piastri NSFW alphabet

A-Aftercare (what they're like after sex?)

Always cuddles, whether she's resting on his chest or him on hers. I definitely see him being lazy afterwards and is all "do we have to get up, it's so comfortable" but he knows better and does so with a groan.

B-Body part (what is their favourite part of theirs and their partner?)

He actually really likes his cock. Not overly sure why but just does. But also his hands, they can do a lot.

I don’t think there’s one part of his partner that he doesn’t like. But he like boobs. Always has and always will. Seeing them is a pretty bra just gets him off. But he will always have an appreciation for ass.

C-Cum (anything to do with cum)

Oscar likes things MESSY. He will happily cum absolutely anywhere, and he comes a lot. Also taking into consideration Australia's circumcision rate of 10-20% (depending on where you look) I reckon he isn't, and so is very sensitive, so it's quite easy to make him cum.

D-Dirty secret (just a dirty secret of theirs)

I think he might really like the idea of someone watching, he’s a bit of a voyeur. Not many would believe he’s so fantastic in bed. So he’s like someone else to see and say so. Not that her body language doesn’t tell him that. He’s a bit of a show off at times. But it’s always hot.

E- Experience (how experienced are they)

Not very, but he's so willing to learn!! He wants to make her cum because she deserves. If he eats her out he doesn't expect anything back, but he'd never complain. I think he likes to do research and wants to try it out, so immediately he's telling her about this thing and he's all giddy.

F- Favourite position

Oscar loves so many positions!!! He really likes straddling positions where she's on top; any variation of cowgirl or where she's sat in his lap. But he also likes to be on top;any variation of missionary, but in particular when she has her legs around his waist and hands in his hair.

G- Goofy (how serious are they in the moment)

Definitely a mix of both. There's definitely times where nothing arousing or particularly intimate has occurred yet he really wants sex. Or times where they could have a pretty normal conversation while getting railed. But he like more serious sex too- he likes to focus on pleasure-not just cumming.

H- Hair (how well groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes)

I think Oscar's hair is the same colour. But I think he's very well groomed, although he's okay with mess (have you seen his drivers room?) I think this would be something he's quite picky about. Always trimmed to a nice length. Have you seen his happy trail? I think he’d be a little scared of razor burn (probably happened once and was suffering) so avoids them like the plague, unless she offers for him when in the shower ;)

I- Intimacy (how are they during the moment? Romantic? Pleasure driven?)

I’m lead to believe he’s very romantic, he wants to show her how passionate he is. He loves her with all of his heart, and what better way to show that than pleasure. He knows that the build up to an orgasm is just as fun as the final climax so he isn’t always desperate to cum.

J- Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

In my mind he doesn’t masturbate often, but when he does he likes to tease. He uses such light pressure that he can’t get anywhere close to cumming. Or he’s so desperate that his main focus is the head, he just rubbing an open palm against the tip, moaning while is eyes roll back. However he doesn’t like to Jack off, he’d prefer her hand or mouth.

K- Kinks (one or more of their kinks)

Switch- if it wasn’t made obvious I think he’s the perfect example of a switch. He’s equally as submissive as dominate, and it makes for a really good sex life. With his dominance, I think it comes mainly position and instruction; there will be times where he just picks her up by the waist, places her on the nearest surface and just fucks her brainless

Bottoming- is this even a kink? Well it’s here now. I think this came about from his little research moment, he saw a lot about how much pleasuring the g-spot could heighten his orgasm and practically begged for it.

Temperature play- I think ties into a fondness for toys. But also, now hear me out, when he’s getting a bj and there’s lots of spit on his cock, he likes when she blows air onto it, giving a cooling sensation.

Voice/sound- he loves when there’s some kind of music playing, but he also loves just hearing her voice, maybe it’s because he likes being told what to do.

Praise/degradation- this can be read in the context of either dom or sub. But he’s loves degradation with a mix of praise. “Such a slut, so good for me.” Praise him because he derives it!! But call him a slut for looking at lando like that. Oscar loves to give praise after sex, sweet nothings and pillow talk is his specialty if he’s coherent.

L- Location (their favourite place)

I’m going to have to be basic in saying the bedroom. However not just the bed. Say you’re picking out some clothes from the wardrobe, if you’re trying things on, you should know it’s not long until you’re being pushed up against the door.

Round two in the shower are a must.

M- Motivation (what gets them going?)

He really likes dirty talk, but the subtle kind. Or if you whisper in his ear out in public “I can’t wait to get home and have your cock in my mouth” he’s already semi hard. “I think it’s time we leave”

Lingerie- I imagine him to really like baby dolls or really pretty/ intricate bras and panties.

N- No (what turns them off)

CNC-he can’t see the appeal of it.

Spanking- I’m talking more about 5+ with the intention of it really hurting/being a punishment. He definitely likes to tap her ass. But not leave it so red and sore that she can’t sit.

O- Oral (preference on giving or receiving. Skill)

I think he may slightly prefer giving. Just seeing the pleasure he can give with his tongue/hands. He’s very skilled in eyes, I think that he’s desperate to please and so found different techniques to see what would work best. Oscar *fuck me eyes* Piastri like to be on his knees while you ride his face. However, when he sees how enthusiastic she is about blowing him, how can he say no?

P- Pace (Are they fast or slow? Rough or sensual?)

He definitely prefers slow and sensual, but he does like it rough from time to time. He knows variety is super important and is very willing to give that. I think post race win!Oscar definitely likes hardcore, he feels like he deserves it.

Q- Quickie (their opinions on them? How often?)

I think he can see the appeal and is quite happy that he can cum pretty fast, the risk of it is nice so he does enjoy them. But he would definitely prefer hours long to have his way with you.

R- Risk (will they experiment? Do they take risks?)

He loves to experiment. He knows to switch up his technique every so often, switching from deep thrusting to short and shallow. The following week maybe he tries to milk her g-spot. He will always keep it interesting

S- Stamina (how many rounds do they go for?)

I believe he can go for quite a few rounds but he has a long refractory period. You have to wait quite a few minutes to even dare to touch his cock after cumming. But it will take him a while to cum again. But he’s easy to overstimulate

T-Toys (do they own any? Do they use them? On a partner or themself?)

Absolutely loves them!! His personal favourite are vibrators. He loves using them on her, as well as on himself. If he was really spending the whole night focusing on her, his mouth and hands will need a break. So he’s ready to get out a rabbit or a wand. He might like handcuffs but it can be a spur of the moment thing, even if he’s in control. The first time he used one (a vibe) on himself he came in under five minutes, and overstimmed himself. He didn’t focus on the shaft enough. But he later realised to use a slow vibration and apply less pressure. His favourite dildo is 6-inches btw.

U-Unfair (how much do they tease?)

He loves being teased but not edged. When he wants to cum he should be allowed to!! Or he’ll pout. Slowing down while blowing him is one of his favourite things. But he also loves to tease back. He’s NOT all talk. He’ll make you wait for hours before you’re allowed to cum. Only kissing around your cunt. Or just twisting/sucking your nipples. But you won’t cum. Foreplay is a favourite of his.

V-Volume (how loud are they? What sounds do they make?)

When dimming he’s not quiet, but not loud. He’s definitely making noises. He groans and had a very low moan. But the more he cums the higher and louder the moans become. He’s very breathy if that makes sense.

W-Wild card (a random headcanon)

He really loves flavoured lube. He’s got all of the fruity ones in the bedside table. He just thinks it’s nice to spice it up as lube isn’t just used on his cock or her cunt. Yes he does like whipped cream and sweet sauces, so he cheats on his diet quite often.

X-X-ray (how big are they?)

Definitely more thick. Although I can imagine 6/7 inches I’m not sure why.

Y- Yearning (how high is their sex drive)

Not very, he just gets very caught up in the moment. So one day he’ll be begging for hours on end for pleasure as if he didn’t have morning sex or didn’t bend her over the sofa two hours ago. Other days he just doesn’t feel like cumming at all. But if you asked he’d definitely eat you out, or grab one of the many toys scattered around his messy room. Overall some days are 0/10 others 10/10

Z-Zzz (how quick do they fall asleep afterwards?)

Oscar Piastri sleepy boy confirmed. He loves his sleep so much, so pretty quick; especially it was very sensual and romantic. But if the sex was more rough I think the adrenaline would keep him up for quite a while.

Help why is he so pale. Like you’re from Australia babe, how are you as white as me. (I’ve not stepped foot in the sun for 3 years.)

#f1 x reader #f1 x reader smut #f1 smut #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fic #oscar piastri x reader smut #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri #oscar pistachio #oscar piastri x reader #oscar pastry #Oscar Piastry #oscar piastri x female reader #Oscar Piastri x fem reader smut

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lewisyellowhelmet · 5 months

Text

pursuit of happiness

lewis hamilton x actress!reader

summary: 18+!!!! general m/f s*x acts. reader is a well known actress with a recent scandal, who escapes to lewis for some peace.

read everything else here!

In Singapore, the heat clings to her. Even in the airport, with her sunglasses on, head down, overly focused on the boots of the security guard in front of her who steps a path through the crowd, she can feel the humidity. The flashes of the cameras makes her ears ring, a threatening headache quickly becoming ominously real.

She remembers when this onslaught made her giddy, when she would try and meet everyone's eye, smile, shake hands. Always new places, always new people. The shame of walking with her face lowered, crowded in by looming men, makes her want to be sick. Still, the questions screamed at her have long become too prying, the autograph hunters too needy, the photographers too scary.

The car is waiting for her, sleek and black. She’s hustled from the opening doors of the terminal, into the warm bath of tropical air, and then into the air conditioning, leather seats. The door slams behind her, enclosing her in the cab, and the driver is already pulling away, leaving a throng of people half spilling out into the road after her. She knows what they want. She won’t give it to them.

The hotel room is empty. But there are leftover parts of him. A used towel in the bathroom. A watch next to the beside table, silver and chunky. There’s a yoga mat on the balcony. Her phone is buzzing, maddeningly. She has a sudden urge to throw it off the building. She puts it in the mini fridge instead, on silent. The king bed is expansive, crisp and white. The air in the room is cool and artificial, whirring reliably in the ceiling. When she crawls into bed, the sheets still smell like him. He sleeps on the left, and she tucks his pillow into her body, imagines the feel of his skin on hers, the rustle of his hair, the press of his hand. She falls asleep, bathed in bright sunlight.

When she wakes, the room is dark, and there’s someone walking around. She is not unused to strangers in her space, interfering with her things, minders and assistants and stylists. If she snoozes her alarm too many times, someone will always come in, open the blinds, waft a coffee under her nose. But this person is sitting beside her now, covering her hand with their own, warm and solid. She blinks open sticky eyes. Lewis is smiling, reaching to stroke the hair off her face. It’s a new colour, bleached and cut short, for the new part that will start filming next week.

“It’s quarter past seven,” Lewis says. He always wakes her with the time. A way to centre herself, to adjust. It’s fifteen minutes past seven here, in Singapore, where she is, with him. Her mouth feels dry, her tongue thick. Her limbs are lazy.

“How long have you been here?” She says, slurring her words.

“Only a few minutes. I’m about to go to dinner if you want to come.”

“I don’t want to go anywhere.”

Lewis looks disappointed in her, for a moment, but the expression passes off his face like it was never there. Shame curdles in her belly. The headache is still striking against her temples.

“It’s a private place, there won’t be any photographers,” Lewis says.

“But people will know.”

Lewis strokes over her head a final time, his hand solid and welcome, “Yes, probably.”

She groans, and rolls away from him, so he can’t see how her eyes are getting wet and sore. She wants to crawl deeper into the bed and never come out, never be seen by anyone else. The bed shifts as Lewis stands up.

“I don’t know how long I’ll be,” he says.

“Wait,” she says, muffled, but doesn’t remove her head from where it’s stuffed into the pillow. The fabric is getting damp around her mouth. She can’t get enough oxygen. She can feel him watching her.

When she lifts her head up, she’s breathing hard. Her headache throbs.

“Let me get dressed,” she says.

The restaurant is at the bottom of the hotel, easily accessible to the public, but the host guides them to a private room that has windows into an enclosed garden, a water feature trickling. Lewis is handed a completely vegan menu. She doesn’t feel hungry at all, it’s the middle of the night in L.A., and orders a vodka soda.

“He said the marriage was over,” she says, when she can’t hold it in any longer. Lewis is chewing polenta. He looks at her for a long time. He’s ordered an expensive bottle of red wine, which she knows she will drink most of.

“Did you believe him?” He asks, eventually. She stares at the three scallops in front of her, picturesque on their clean pink shells.

“Yes,” she says.

“Why?”

Her voice is sticking in her throat. She has to eat a scallop so she doesn't start to cry.

“I guess he’s a good actor.”

Lewis laughs, and she has to smile. The ice in her vodka soda rattles as she sucks down the last of it.

“How did it start?” Lewis asks.

She thinks about saying she doesn’t want to talk about it, that it’s too hard, but his expression is earnest and his eyes are dark and liquid and she wants to dive into them, curl up around his pupil and rest there.

“We went out in Rome one night. The other actors and crew as well, but everyone started to head back and we went to this bar in the old city. He touched my knee. He was so nice and interested in me and he promised that he didn’t even live with her anyone, they just pretended so the kids would’t have to deal with the media. He even said the kids were fine with it, everyone was happier now. We walked back to the hotel. He invited me to his room for a drink. I wanted to go, you know. I wanted him to ask me.”

She has been telling most of the story to the garden and it’s fountain. It’s hard to look at Lewis. He listens carefully.

“We slept together every night of the shoot after that. We tried not to let it show on set but it was pretty obvious. One weekend we went to Venice, and the photos. I’m sure you saw them. It was fucking everywhere. I was so angry at him for letting it happen but of course he had no control. No one does. His wife called. We couldn’t leave the hotel because there were so many photographers. Somehow people even got in so I couldn’t leave the room. The security from Rome had to come all the way out and get us. Then his wife somehow got my number.”

She hasn’t been able to delete the texts yet. She’d read them on the flight to Singapore even, scrolling through. The marriage, it seemed, was not over.

“Anyway, we finished the shoot. I went back to L.A., he went to London. He called a few times but. It wasn’t the same. I couldn’t stop thinking about his kids. How much they must hate me. Still,” she shrugs, and tries to smile, but imagines it as ugly and painful, “good press for the movie, I guess.”

The waiter has come in, discreet, and pours her a glass of wine, clears their entrees. Her throat feels sore and thick. Lewis is quiet, thanks the man.

“Why did you come here?” He asks, after the door has shut with a muffled sound, and it is just them, the wine, and the trickling water.

She laughs, but it sounds wet.

“I have no idea. You offered. I needed to get away from L.A.”

He sips his wine, and she forgets to look away when his tongue darts out to smooth over his bottom lip as he puts the glass down.

“I’m sorry that happened to you,” he says, calm and steady. The sympathy makes her stomach turn over.

“Don’t say that, it’s my own fault.”

Lewis shakes his head, and looks so sad she has to pick up her own glass, take two big mouthfuls, let it stain her mouth.

“How’s the season going?” She asks, to change the subject. He sighs. The waiter comes back in with their mains. Somehow they begin talking about something else, careful guided away from both her affair and F1. She almost manages to forget whats happened.

She stands in the elevator facing so she can watch the numbers climb up as they soar into the sky. The food has pushed the headache momentarily away, and the alcohol is making her loose limbed. Lewis touches her waist gently as they leave the elevator and begin the short walk down the corridor to his suite. Only when he unlocks the door and steps aside for her to go in first does she remember to say, “Did you want me to get my own room?”

“Don’t be stupid,” he says, “Old friends, right?”

She laughs as she follows him in, “Sure, old friends.”

They finish the bottle of wine on the balcony, the heat still thick and clinging. The city moves around them, engines revving, lights changing. She throws her bare legs over his lap, and he strokes her shin, the callouses on his palm soothing. They talk aimlessly, small jokes, old gossip. She wonders if her phone has frozen in the minifridge yet. Which agent or manager has boarded a plane to come and collect her. Lewis starts to yawn when the moon is high, and they go back inside to the air-con.

She showers first, the water and citrus body wash sluicing the days sweat off her, remaking her, clean and new. Lewis’s toiletries are spilled over the counter. She lifts his bottle of cologne to her nose while she brushes her teeth.

When he takes his turn in the bathroom, she flips through the channels on the big television, tucked into the crisp sheets, propped up against too many pillows. The TV is the only light in the room, flickering and constantly changing. She feels exhausted, and like sleep has never been further away. She has not retrieved her phone from the fridge. They’ll find her somehow. They always do.

Lewis wears soft pyjama pants to bed, low on his hips. She's wearing one of his t-shirts. They’re wet hair tangles as she slouches into his shoulder, tucked into the crook of his armpit while they watch Singaporean news. During the entertainment portion, an image of her in her huge sunglasses at the arrival terminal pops up. She looks pale and sickly in the video. Lewis turns the television off.

“It’s okay,” she says, interrupting him saying, “I’m tired, anyway.”

“What are you doing tomorrow?” She asks, still leaning against him. His arm is around her, heavy and solid. She feel his chin against her skull.

“It’s the race. I’ll be out all day.”

“Alright.”

“When do you have to leave?”

“Whenever they come and fetch me.”

“Maybe if you stayed for the race. Came to the grid. We could make sure you get interviewed, it might distract everyone from. What’s just happened.”

She turns her face into his chest, wanting to become one of his tattoos, imprinted on his skin.

“Or not,” he says, quietly.

“I can’t think about it right now,” she says.

“Okay,” he soothes. He’s touching her hair, the wrong colour, the wrong length. She feels outside of her own body, even as she tries to cram into his. She touches his stomach, just her fingertips, scratching lower to the line of his waist, his hips bones. He says her name against her forehead, his lips brushing over her skin.

“We don’t have to,” Lewis says.

“Do you want to?”

“Of course,” he breathes.

“I want to,” she says.

She lets her head fall lower over his chest, down his abdomen so she can drag her mouth over the muscle there, kiss over his navel, the brush of hair under her mouth as she finds the waistband of his pyjamas. Lewis is sighing and twitching, his hand in her hair. The pressure is familiar, no push, just a warmth. She can feel him against her chin as she laves her tongue over his hip, already hard and wanting. His skin is goose bumped, anticipating. She never wants it to end, wants to keep him dangling on the edge, waiting and waiting.

He lifts his hips for her to wriggle his pants off him, down the muscle of his thighs, the curve of his knees. Lewis grabs at her (his) t-shirt, pulling it over her head and off so he can sweep his hands over her shoulders, cup her breasts in his hands, smiling dopely at her as his thumbs swipe over her nipples, make her gasp. His cock stands red against his belly, leaking wet. She lowers her head to lick up the length of it, suck him into her mouth, salty and hot. He groans, and his hands tangle in her hair, guiding her rhythm. It’s so easy to fall back into it, remembering him, one hand around the base of him, the other against his hip, bracing herself. He keeps her hair out of her face, mumbles nonsense to her, about how good she is, how amazing it feels. She pulls off to drool over him, let him see the mess he’s made, lick kitten like at the swollen tip. Lewis moans, instinctual from his chest.

“Baby,” he says, hips knocking up unconsciously, “Baby, please.”

“What do you want?” She asks, her hand slicking up and down the length of him, the sounds lewd.

“I want you. I just want you. So badly, please.”

“Where do you want me?”

“Anywhere,” he’s grinning, mouth wet, cheeks flushed, “Anywhere.”

She sits herself up on her knees, and he whines as she lets go of him, takes his face in her hands. He kisses her messy and desperate, his tongue between her teeth. He drags at her hair, and the tingling pain of it makes her groan into him.

His hand between her legs, stroking, spreading her wetness. She has to stop kissing him to breathe, their noses knocking together, dropping her head into the crook of his shoulder to pant as he slips a finger into her, another, crooks them just right and fucks her with his hand.

“I know,” he croons, as she shudders against his chest, “I know, feels good, huh?”

“Yes,” she gasps, meeting his hand with her hips as an orgasm curls in her belly, “It’s s’good.”

“Come for me, baby,” he whispers against her ear, his mouth hot. She keens and falls limp against him, sat half in his lap as she comes, his hand trapped between her legs. Her body keeps rocking unconsciously against him as she settles, breathing in the smell of him, feeling the pulse of his jugular against her mouth.

Lewis soothes her, kissing the side of her face, the line of her bare shoulder, his fingers still tucked inside her. She can feel the way their skin is sticking together with sweat already. She doesn’t mind it.

She reaches between them, where he’s resting against the inside of her thigh, hot and stiff, flinching when she rubs her thumb over the tip.

“You want me?” She asks, can’t look him in the eye, her head under his chin.

“Yes,” Lewis breathes, fucking into her hand, “Always.”

She shifts, gets her leg over his hip so she’s hovering above him, nudging the head of his cock against herself, teasing. Lewis is breathing hard, his chest shiny, his shoulders big. He’s watching her with big, dark eyes. When she lets him inside, he curses. Fists curling into the bedsheets.

It feels otherworldly, having him slip into her, thick and long and good. Fills her up in a way she can never explain. It knocks the breath out of her. Her knees press into his hips, her head drooping down to press her forehead against his. His mouth is open, pink and bitten.

“Oh my god,” she rasps, pulling herself up and down again. He slides deeper the second time. Lewis groans, and screws his eyes shut. His big hands find her waist, grabbing at her bum, helps her lift herself and drop down, finding a rhythm.

“Oh, fuck,” he pants, “Oh, fuck, oh, fuck, oh, fuck.”

She loses the strength to speak, lets him fuck up into her, her arms around his shoulders. She cries out when he moves, stays inside her as he lays her out on her back, pulls her legs out and wide so he has the space to drive into her, keep her there, half crying and writhing. It’s so good it blinds her.

“Is that what you wanted? Is this what you needed?” Lewis is asking her, he’s slowing down so she feels every thrust, right to the core of her. She struggles to prop herself up on her elbows, watching where their bodies meet, a perfect coupling, his hips knocking into hers.

“Yes,” she tells him, grabbing at the muscle of his bicep, yanking him down so she can kiss him, still telling him yes, yes, yes.

She comes again, flat on her back, her knees over his shoulders, adrift in the ocean of him, trusting him to fuck her through it, go easy on her when she starts to shake.

“It’s okay,” he murmurs, bent low over her, his mouth by her jawline, “You’re okay, you’re so good, you feel so good.”

She holds onto him, anchored by him in the swathe of bedsheets, in the mess of her life.

“Please,” she asks, wrapping her legs around his waist, urging him in closer, deeper. She does’t know what she’s asking for. To keep going? To save her? To take her far away?

Lewis’ movements hasten, an urgency to him as he lets go, his thumb holding her mouth open so he can pant the same air. She twists her hand into his braids, holds him there, gazes up at him as he pushes into her, again and again. His face goes euphoric, and she holds him tight against her as he comes, not looking away from her, his eyes dark and endless.

She doesn’t sleep. Lewis breathes slow and deep, his arm over her stomach. She watches the city, curtains left open, and tries not to think about her phone in the fridge. The effect of the wine is ebbing, and everything feels starkly real and horrible again. Her legs are sore from the weight of Lewis bending her, having her, but it’s a good pain, a reminder that she has used her body. She finds herself touching his hand, his fingers, the metal of his rings. She could stay in the hotel room forever, if she wanted. Pass the time rotting away until he returned for next years race, and the next, and the next. Never take her phone out. Swim in the infinity pool. Order room service. She turns her face from the skyline, away from the daydream.

Lewis is angled towards her, young and ethereal in sleep. His lips are parted, jaw relaxed. She wants to kiss the very tip of his nose. It used to be like this all the time. When the television show had summer breaks, and she could just go wherever he was. Follow him around like a dog, panting at his heels. But then the breaks were filled with other projects, and then she was so busy there wasn’t even time for the show. Standing for the applause at Cannes with an empty seat beside her. Not being able to reach him for hours after because the race was delayed. Holding that heavy award in her hand, looking out over a sea of cameras and her peers, trying to call him as soon as she was off stage and it ringing through ten times before she gave up.

The man she’d had an affair with had asked her about Lewis. If he had to be half mad to drive the car around and around in circles that fast. Only a quarter mad, she’d said, and changed the subject. It felt wrong to hear Lewis’ name in his mouth. They accessed two different parts of her. Even in the middle of it, she knew the man was only activating something primal and childish in her, a lavishing of attention that made her feel special. Lewis, rather, made her see the worst sides of herself, encouraged her to turn and face them. He would dig under her skin, lift scabs, push her forward even when she wanted to go back.

It’s difficult to wake in the morning. The sky is grey and low, rain patterning the window. Lewis is naked, digging through his jeans to find his phone that’s ringing an endless alarm. She rolls over onto the side of the bed he’s vacated. When he returns, the phone silenced, he slides into what little space she’s left, arranging her limp body half on top of him. He’s soft and close and warm. She tucks her face into his shoulder, breathes him, thinks about baring her teeth and biting.

“I have to be out in fifteen minutes,” he tells her, his voice rumbling through his chest. She whines and clings like a child.

“You can’t distract me today,” Lewis says, but his voice is soft and concerned, “I have the race.”

“When?”

“Tonight.”

“I might be gone by then.”

She feels him sigh, her head rising and falling with his chest.

“Well, try not to be,” he says.

Maybe she can get one more day. If she hides, if she doesn’t answer her phone.

“Should I come?” She asks, half hidden by his neck. He goes still, but his voice is calm and measured.

“If you want to. I’d like that.”

“If people see you and me together. You know what they’ll say.”

He laughs, and she lifts her head up to see the way his eyes shine and crinkle, “Let them say it.”

She kisses the corner of his mouth, and then the other side. He’s smiling.

“I have nothing to wear,” she says. Lewis rolls his eyes.

“You have all day to find something.”

“I can’t go out.”

“Why not?”

She frowns at him, “They’ll see me.”

“Who? The paparazzi? The crowd? Who cares. It’s done now. The only thing you can do now is keep going.”

She sits up, and off him. The sheets fall from her chest and she watches Lewis try not to stare at her tits.

“That’s a bit harsh,” she says.

“It’s the truth.”

The alarm starts going again, vibrating across the carpet, forgotten next to his jeans. Lewis throws the covers off, and makes for the shower, snatching the phone off the floor on his way. She sits back against the pillows, turns to watch the rain. The only thing you can do now is keep going.

She tells only who needs to know that she’s going to the race. The heat is heavy and palpable. Her feet hurt in the heels, but the dress is cool where it swishes around her ankles. Someone knew someone who knew a stylist in the city, and a hair and make up artist was quick to be summoned to the room.

“Just make me look good,” she’d told them, and then sat quietly, let them prod and poke at her until when she looked in the mirror again, she saw no-one. A facade. An actress. The Rubik’s cube of herself she could present to the world. She smiles. She retrieves her phone from the mini fridge.

She likes the beat in time when people realise it’s her, and before they lift their phones to take a photo. A swell in time, like the lip of a wave about to crash. Then there’s screaming, camera flashes, people calling her name. She lifts her chin and keeps moving, guided by a man in a Mercedes shirt. She refuses to think about how much the pictures will sell for to the magazines, or about twitter threads, or even what the pit crew lean to whisper to each other. Lewis is waiting for her in the garage. She has pride of place. There are more cameras on them then the track. His suit is pushed to his hips, and she can see the thrill gleam in his eyes. She smiles. She does not look at the cameras. She lets him take her into his chest. She is the one who looks up at him, and kisses him.

Let them see. Let them all see.

#lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton smut #f1 smut #lewis hamilton imagine #*

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hollysoda · 7 months

Text

Dragon of Time - one of the largest dragons to be seen in the skies. It is said to be the oldest of its brothers, having been reported to exist in many eras, and was therefore named after its timelessness. Though some doubt whether it truly is a good dragon, for the sharp markings on its face and whitened eyes give off the impression of something dangerous

Wolf Dragon - named for its furry wolf-like appearance. It only breaks the cloud barrier at dusk and roams the night, it’s somber howl becoming a folklore for travellers in forests. Legends say that it was once a friend of the Twili, and it circles around the Arbiter’s Grounds every night

Warrior Dragon - named for the metal plating that covers its back, and for how it only seems to appear before soldiers of pure heart/soldiers down on their luck. It is said that seeing the Warrior Dragon will bless the person with strength and courage, and if a feather from one of its blue whiskers were to fall before a captain they would be ensured victory

Winged Dragon - the rarest of the dragons, for it favours staying above the clouds and roaming the islands in the sky. Unlike most other dragons, it is more bird like, being covered in crimson feathers and sprouting large wings. It’s red feathers sometimes fall to the surface, and if spotted by a romantic couple they are blessed with eternal love. Some researchers argue that the Winged Dragon is even older than the Dragon of Time

Fairy Dragon - this dragon is often seen floating above Fairy Fountains, and it is said that new fairies are born from this dragon’s scales. It too has wings, but these ones are shaped like a butterflies. Some ancient texts read that parts of fairy dragon can heal even the most fatal injury or sickness, and a great evil once sort out the dragon in order to revive their leader

Long-Eared Dragon - an unusually pink dragon, adorned with golden horns and claws and most notably long rabbit-like ears. It soars around the entirety of Hyrule, but more sightings of it have been recorded around Eventide Island than anywhere else. If you are lucky enough to get close to this dragon, there is a sense of great calm in the air around it, as if the spirit within once fought many hard battles and now roams the sky in peace

Wind Dragon - a brilliant blue dragon that is a popular legend amongst seafarers and fishermen. It roams the coastlines, and is even said to sometimes dwell under water as there are stories of large draconic shadows being spotted beneath boats. If you ever feel a sharp breeze steering your sail away from your destination, it is most likely the Wind Dragon warning you of danger. However, the Wind Dragon is also often blamed for dangerous storms

Rainbow Dragon - a remarkably smaller and yet colourful dragon with iridescent scales. It is said to harness the powers of wind, fire, water and the earth combined, making it quite difficult to approach. Legends spread amongst blacksmiths say that if one were to meld one of its scales to a weapon the weapon would become unbreakable, and in an age where smithing is becoming a lost art many pray that they’re lucky enough to see the dragon

Dragon of the Wild - perhaps the most commonly reported dragon, for some claim to have known the spirit that resides within. It flies low around the entirety of Hyrule, but will then also return to the skies to fly with the Light Dragon. Over recent years it has become a staple sight in Hyrule and stories of the dragons origins have been passed down from generation to generation. It has become a commonly worshipped symbol for adventurers and soldiers alike

#sorry if the names for some of these suck I was struggling #linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu time #lu twilight #lu warriors #lu sky #lu hyrule #lu legend #lu wind #lu four #lu wild #draconified links au

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sarahscribbles · 6 months

Text

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐬𝐮𝐛𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞

𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤: 𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐋𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐡

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐬𝐮𝐛!𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐱 𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭𝐃𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞!𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟒.𝟓𝐤

𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

“Let me submit to you.”

Loki’s plea is soft against your lips, it’s little more than a whisper and almost lost amidst a heavy haze of unbroken kisses. You’re breathless in their wake - drunk and warm and so dazed from his affections that you can only manage a questioning “hmm?” while you attempt to pull him closer.

He allows it but keeps his lips frustratingly out of reach. A whine tumbles pitifully from yours because the taste of him still lingers on your tongue like salty summer air. You want to drown in this man, but he only rests his forehead against yours. You feel his hands curl around your hips and he breathes in as though readying himself for what he’s about to say.

It makes your heart flutter, though with excitement or apprehension, you aren’t really sure.

“I yield, darling. I yield to you,” he says quietly. His hands squeeze your hips at the same time his thumbs begin to trace circles on the exposed skin of your stomach.

A trail of goosebumps erupts in the wake of his touch and, at first, you think it’s another one of his tricks. Loki’s always been the dominant one and, although your own dominant side has lived quietly inside you, you hadn’t believed a submissive one lived within him.

But when you meet his eyes - those beautiful green eyes that you would know anywhere - you know that he’s never meant anything more. He’s yearning to give up control and it causes something molten to stir to life in the pit of your stomach.

How many times have you imagined how sweet it would sound to hear Loki begging? Or how beautiful he would look on his knees before you? How often have you imagined his pleasure being in your hands and what you would have him do to earn it? The answer is too many to count.

And now he’s offering it up to you entirely of his own accord.

It’s both the fulfilment of a fantasy and the deepest expression of trust.

It’s something you can’t possibly deny him.

You hesitate briefly, but only because you don’t know where to start with him. You’ve imagined this scenario so many times - how you could coax him into admitting he wanted to be dominated and the heady feeling of the power balance shifting - but now that he’s offered it up to you freely, you have no idea what to do. Loki notices your hesitance - of course he does - and gives your hips another light squeeze.

“Please, darling.” He raises his eyes to yours and the trust shining out of them almost takes your breath away.

He trusts you with this, with this part of that you know few have ever seen. He trusts you enough to submit his body to you with certainty that you won’t hurt him. He trusts you.

You press one last lingering kiss to his lips - a “thank you for trusting me” and a promise that he’s safe - and step back from his embrace. “Strip, and get on your knees.” Your voice is steadier than you imagined, so much so that you feel yourself easily slipping into the role of dominant. In front of you, Loki’s lips twitch and you see him raise a hand to dissolve his clothing in a haze of green. “No.” You stop him. “No magic. Strip.”

His eyes blaze fiercely as they catch yours - it’s unmistakable arousal at how you’re the one taking control. “As my Queen commands,” he replies. His voice is smooth as silk as it wraps around you, but there’s something else colouring his words tonight.

It takes only a moment for you to pin it as obedience.

Appreciatively, you watch him pull his sweater over his head. It’s a mundane action, but one that Loki can easily make look elegant. Piece by piece his abs and stomach are bared before you, and your eyes follow hungrily along all the way to the planes of his chiseled chest. The man is a word of art.

And he’s yours.

Loki’s gaze never breaks from yours as his fingers move down to unbutton his jeans, barely even blinking as he pushes them off and tosses them to the side. He repeats the action with his boxers until he’s fully nude before you.

And already halfway hard.

You’ve seen him like this a million times before, but you can’t help but drink him in. From his muscled calves all the way to the light smattering of hair on his chest. “Beautiful,” you can’t help but murmur. “Now, kneel.”

Part of you expects Loki to be brat, expects a small dose of resistance despite how badly he wants this, but he folds easily to his knees the moment the command leaves your lips. God, he looks exquisite. Those firm thighs are tucked beneath him and spread wide, and he’s folded his hands behind his back without having to be told.

The perfect picture of submission.

“Good boy.” They’re two small words, but you catch the small twitch of Loki’s cock as you speak. Your prince, it seems, likes to be praised.

Wordlessly, you circle him. He kneels up a little straighter and you feel the suspense rolling off him in waves. Oh, you’re going to have so much fun with him.

“What should I do to you, hmm?” you ask softly, stopping behind him to drop a kiss to the top of his head while your hands rest on his shoulders. “Should I edge you until you’re begging? Should I make you watch as I make myself cum? Should I use that whip that you enjoy using on me so much?”

You trail your fingers softly over his shoulders and he shivers beneath your touch. “Whatever pleases you, my Queen. I am at your service,” he answers almost instantly, surprising you with how deep his submissiveness runs.

It sparks an idea in you, though.

“Mmm, yes you are,” you say, dropping another kiss to his head and moving to stand in front of him. Gently, you cup his flushed cheeks until those beautiful eyes are peering up at you. “Colour?”

“Green,” he answers quickly.

“Safeword?”

“Red.”

You run your thumbs over his cheeks, feeling him press into the palm of your hand. He knows he’s safe. “Good boy,” you praise him with a last kiss to his forehead.

His eyes bore into your back as you take the few steps toward the large chest beneath the window that houses all your toys. You make a show of sifting through the contents, noisily moving around various vibes and clamps and pieces of plastic until you know the waiting is driving him insane. As you expect, he’s staring at you intently when you straighten and turn, but his eyes immediately drop to the three items you’re holding in your hands.

A length of rope, a collar, and a metal leash.

His cock twitches and he licks his lips.

“Excited by a little rope?” you tease, coming back to kneel behind him. “I hadn’t realised you were such a whore.” You loop the rope around his wrists just as a quiet moan escapes him. You grin. “Oh, I see,” you purr, leaning in to nip at his neck. “You like being my whore.”

There’s a catch in his breathing and he briefly sways on his knees. How badly you wish you could see the fantasy playing out behind his eyes. “Y-yes,” he answers huskily. It’s followed quickly by a deep, satisfied moan when you again nip at his neck.

You finish securing the first knot around his wrists and let your hand snake around his hips to circle his cock. Loki reacts with a broken cry of pleasure at your touch, but you stroke him slowly, languidly, with only enough pressure to tease.

“My pretty prince,” you murmur softly, running your tongue over the broken line of bites decorating his neck. Loki keens and attempts to roll his hips into your hand, desperate for more friction. “My beautiful Asgardian whore.”

You give him four firm strokes, enough that his chest begins to heave and black curls dance along his back. “Please…darling…please…I need…,” he whimpers.

“What is it you want, my love?” you taunt him. “Do you want to cum?”

He nods eagerly, sending more curls spilling down his back. “Yes…please, darling.”

“Too bad,” you say simply and remove your hand from his cock. Loki responds with something between a groan and a sob, and you watch his fingers curl with frustration against his back. “You didn’t think I would make it that easy for you, did you?”

Between his deep, steadying breaths, you swear you hear a muttered “minx.”

“Careful,” you whisper quietly into his ear. “I’m the one in charge tonight, remember? Are you going to be a good boy? Or, do I need to think of a way to punish you?”

He’s silent for a moment, likely weighing up his options, so you give his cock another swift stroke. “No!” he shouts, whether in fear or at the sudden pulse of pleasure you aren’t sure. “I’ll be good!”

You release his cock, but hum approvingly into his neck, breathing in the scent of him. “Good,” you say simply, and place another sharp bite just above his pulse point.

You hear his shaky inhale and feel him shudder as you lean back. He doesn’t move an inch while you wind the rope easily around his arms in an intricate pattern of loops, doesn’t even test the strength of the binding when you bring it up over his elbows. He’s completely immobilised, completely at your mercy, and trusting you completely with his body.

Your good boy.

With a final check that he can wriggle his fingers, you move to stand in front of him again. Loki’s face is flushed pink with arousal and his eyes are dancing with anticipation. They flick expectantly between your face and the collar held in your hands, almost as if he’s begging you to place it around his neck.

You realise then that he wants this. He wants the physical reminder that he’s yours. He needs it, needs the assurance it brings that someone loves him enough to want him wholly, that someone desires him enough to claim his body as theirs.

He craves this level of submission.

With one hand you brush some stray curls away from his face, allowing yourself a second to just enjoy the softness of his hair. “Who do you belong to, my love?” you murmur softly while unclapsing the collar.

Loki is instantly angling his head to grant you access, eager - and almost impatient - to have the cool leather wrap around his neck. “You, my Queen. Only you,” he breathes out, and you hear his quiet groan when you snap the collar closed.

You cup his cheek lovingly in the palm of your hand. “Are you going to be good for me?”

Loki nods eagerly. “Yes.”

You run the pad of your thumb over his flushed cheek. “Good, because only good boys get their reward,” you tell him sweetly and attach the leash to the clip on his collar.

With the other end in hand, you back towards the bed and perch on the edge, ensuring to spread your legs obscenely wide. Loki barely blinks as you flip your skirt up and dip your fingers below the band of your underwear, and you make sure to exaggerate how good your own fingers feel.

You moan and arch your back; you throw your head back on your shoulders; you dig your grip into the bed covers between your free hand, which only pulls the leash around Loki’s neck tighter.

For the briefest of moments, you’re so lost to chasing your own pleasure that you forget about the god on his knees for you. It’s the quiet clink of metal that pulls you back - a sign of Loki’s restlessness and desperation - and you open your eyes to look at him with a lazy smirk.

“Something wrong?” you tease him, lazily circling your clit with a single finger.

Something close to a whine falls from his lips, and you can see the desperation burning in his eyes. “Please, my Queen,” Loki begs. You refuse to believe there’s any sound sweeter than his begging.

“Please, what? What do you want, my love?” Your voice is soft and sweet as honey. You know you’re playing a dangerous game - one that you’ll likely pay for in the very near future - but you can’t pass up the chance to play this game with him.

After all, he’s played it with you so many times before.

There’s another quiet clink of the leash as he shifts on his knees, but he doesn’t dare move without your permission. “I want to fuck you. Please, darling,” he pleads, the rough edge to his voice betraying just how badly he wants to fuck you.

You answer with a click of your tongue. “Oh, my love, why didn’t you say so?” Your words are taunting as you wrap the cold metal of the leash around your hand, tugging it to encourage him to shuffle toward you on his knees.

The sight is sinful - this Asgardian god who refused to kneel for anyone is naked, bound, and collared before you, and shuffling on his knees because you’ve told him to.

It sends a rush of power shooting straight to your head.

You continue to pull gently at his leash until his head is between your spread thighs. Loki’s eyes are alight and blazing with hunger, but he goes still the second you let your hand fall back on the mattress. He’s desperate - a quick glance down confirms it - but he won’t move an inch with your permission.

“Go on, then. Fuck me with that pretty mouth of yours. They do call you silvertongue, don’t they?” you say sweetly.

You expect the first flint of defiance to show, but he obediently bends his head to take the band of your underwear between his teeth, all while never taking his gaze off yours.

You help him only briefly by lifting your hips from the bed to allow him to drag the thin scrap of lace over your thighs. The soft nudge of his nose against your skin has your pussy clenching with need, and it’s enough to make you bite back a groan.

It never fails to amaze you how he can make something so small feel so good.

It doesn’t take long before Loki has dragged your underwear down your legs, though not without pressing a lopsided kiss to the bend of your knee. Once he tosses them carelessly to the side, he’s all too quickly bending back ravenously toward your cunt, but you stop him with a firm hand against his head.

“You have five minutes to make me cum,” you tell him simply. “If you don’t, then you don’t get your reward. Understood?”

In the brief silence that follows, you’re sure that this is where he’ll push back. You wait for the shimmer of green that will release him from his restraints and send you slamming back against the mattress.

But you were wrong.

“Yes, my Queen,” he answers huskily.

Your lips twist into a satisfied smile. “Good boy,” you say slowly, using the leash to steer him toward your throbbing cunt.

A strangled groan tumbles from you the second you feel the wet warmth of his tongue because there’s no feeling comparable to that of this god worshipping you with his mouth. Every firm press of his tongue against you is a sacred prayer, every latch of his lips is a hymn of adoration.

Tonight, he cares only for you and your pleasure, even if it means the denial of his own.

His name is rolling easily off your tongue as the first sparks of your orgasm begin to shoot through you. He’s sinfully talented with that tongue, but you know it’s the closest you’ll ever get to heaven. Almost of its own accord your hand tangles in his hair, anchoring him firmly against you as he slips his tongue inside.

You swear you die right there on the bed.

All at once every nerve ending in your body is alive, but you feel yourself go almost boneless at the same time. He feels so good - so gloriously good - that you can longer sit up straight on the bed. You fall back against the mattress with a soft thump, feeling Loki’s proud grin against your cunt when you begin to grind against his face.

“Fuck, Loki! Please! Just like that!” you encourage him breathlessly. His tongue is lapping firmly along your cunt and over your clit, making stars begin to dance at the edge of your vision.

Your pleasure is his driving force, his end goal, and all it takes is a few more swipes of his tongue before the first powerful waves of your orgasm begin to roll over you like a tsunami. The force of it knocks the breath from your lungs. It’s overpowering, seemingly endless, and you can feel it all the way down to your toes.

Loki makes sure of that.

He doesn’t ease off for a second, even when your cries of his name melt into sharp little pants of pleasure. Even then, he still uses that skilled tongue to guide you seamlessly through the aftershocks of your climax.

You’re certain you could come again easily, but the wet warmth of Loki’s mouth is suddenly gone and you fight the urge to beg him for more.

You’re the one in control, afterall.

Wordlessly, you prop yourself up on your elbows, taking in the sight of Loki still kneeling between your thighs. His cheeks are brilliantly pink and his lips are still shining with your essence. Beneath some stay curls, you see undisguised pride burning in his eyes.

“Three minutes, my Queen,” he says, the beginnings of a smirk tugging at his lips.

It would be all too easy for him to tip the scales in his own favour, to pluck the power easily from your hands.

But that won’t do.

You sit up in one fluid movement to grasp hold of the leash right where it clips to his collar, delighting in the momentary widening of his eyes. “Were you keeping count, my little whore?” you taunt him sweetly, letting a hand float to his cock. He closes his eyes and groans when you begin to slowly, lazily, stroke him. “Or, maybe, you’re just feeling a little needy tonight? Which is it, hmm?”

Loki tries to speak - you can see his answer dancing on the tip of his tongue - but with your hand still stroking his cock he can only mouth wordlessly. You grant him a second of enjoying the waifish tendrils of pleasure that are curling around him, but when he still doesn’t answer and his eyes begin to flutter closed, you squeeze him lightly, to which he answers with a shout.

“Answer me, sweet,” you warn him.

Loki inhales deeply, steadying himself. “I…fuck…I need you, my Queen….ugh…please!” he pleads when you run your thumb teasingly around the sensitive head of his cock.

You smirk as he groans, but don’t cease in the torment. “Mmm, you sound so pretty when you beg. Keep going, and I might give you your reward.”

He releases a huff of frustration, but you know he’s too far gone now. You have him exactly where you want him. “Please…please, darling…have mercy. I’ve been good…please…I need you.”

Those big eyes are peering up at you again, soft and desperate and begging for release. While you would relish teasing him for hours, you’re as desperate for him as he is for you. You release his cock - and he whines pitifully when you do - but relief flashes joyfully in his eyes when you use the leash to coax him to his feet.

“I believe you. That looks rather uncomfortable,” you say, nodding to his cock and shuffling backward on the bed. “What if I’m not finished with you, though?” you continue to taunt him, guiding him onto the mattress until he’s kneeling between your spread legs.

“Darling, please.” His voice is throaty and rough.

He’s so beautiful like this. Restrained and desperate and begging you for release. It’s the only aphrodisiac you need and you’re now determined that he’ll be submitting to you more once tonight is over.

Your pretty, desperate prince.

His gaze is hungry as it runs over you, even though you’re still partially closed and he’s taken you to bed more times than you can count.

He can never get enough of you.

You pretend not to hear his pleading and settle back against the pillows with a contented hum. It’s impossible to do anything but drink him in as you lie there - the taut muscles of his stomach, the broad chest, the way his black curls fall almost effortlessly around his shoulders in a midnight halo. He’s perfection.

You see the small twitch of his shoulders as you admire him, and you can almost feel the unspoken plea burning off him. “Remove the rope, my love,” you tell him softly.

In a shimmer of green it’s gone, but he still keeps his hands folded obediently behind his back - ever the perfect picture of submission to his queen.

“Such a good boy for me,” you purr, resting your hands on his forearms. “I’m very proud of you, my love. You’ve done so well tonight.”

Loki’s chest puffs out with pride and you see the fresh dusting of pink that paints his pale cheeks.

Wordlessly, you guide his hands from behind his back to rest them on your sides. His fingers twitch impatiently against the fabric of your shirt, desperate to feel your bare skin beneath his. “Undress me,” you whisper, stroking his arms with the pads of your thumbs.

It’s like the strike of a match.

Long, elegant fingers eagerly hook into the waistband of your skirt, tugging it easily off your hips and down your legs. The cool air washes refreshingly over you, but it quells the flames of desire for only a second. Loki’s large hands are on every inch of bare skin that he can find, as though this is both the first and last time he’ll ever touch you, as though he doesn’t already know every inch of you by heart.

Hungry hands slip easily beneath your shirt, quickly making short work of both it and your bra. You hear the quiet rustle as they’re tossed to the side with the rest of your clothing.

He takes a moment to marvel at you, drinking you in like you’re the finest piece of Asgardian art. You watch his eyes darken as they rake over you appreciatively, and you fight not to shiver under the intensity of his gaze.

“Norns, you are beautiful,” he murmurs before burying his face into the crook of your neck.

A cool hand finds your breast while he trails a broken line of kisses along your neck and over your collarbone. His lips are hungry and frantic and, mixed with his fingers twisting and pulling at your nipple, it doesn’t take long until you’re arching into his touch. You’re so submerged between the waves of his affections that you only just register his unbroken chorus of “beautiful thing…enchanting creature…darling girl.”

Love and lust for this man mix deliriously in your heart, becoming so overwhelming that you can’t help but greedily pull his lips to yours. The kiss is feverish and passionate like you’ll never get another chance to kiss him again. Loki responds eagerly, moulding his body to yours. You feel cool fingers curl around your knee to place it around his waist, and when his lips break away from yours, you can’t help but to whine.

“Please, darling,” he pants breathlessly against your lips. “Please let me love you.”

Instantly, any half formed plans you had to keep teasing him fade away like smoke in the wind.

You tangle a hand into his mess of curls to pull him in for another blistering kiss, and at the same time, you lock your ankles across his back. “Love me, Loki.”

His cock is already nudging at your entrance when you press your heels into his back, silently coaxing him forward. Loki doesn’t say a word, but his eyes don’t leave yours as he slowly eases himself inside you until you can take no more of him. Despite the many times you’ve taken him before, you’re always left breathless at how good he feels inside you.

Instinctively, you clench around him, pulling a hiss from between bared teeth. “You are perfect,” he groans and rests his forehead against yours. “My perfect girl.”

He rolls his hips against yours in a slow, deep thrust that sends your eyes rolling in your head. He does it again, and again, until you’re sure you’ll draw blood with how deeply you’re gripping his shoulders.

“Loki…ah!....more,” you plead with a shout when his cock brushes against that sweet spot deep inside you.

His lips press firmly against your flushed cheek. “Anything my queen commands,” he rasps in your ear.

His thrusts pick up speed until you can feel him in your very soul. Warmth begins to blossom like a new rose in your core as he expertly builds you towards your second orgasm, groaning and panting deliciously in your ear while he chases his own high. The coil in your stomach winds tighter and tighter with each thrust, and all you know right now is Loki.

The feel of him, the scent of him, the taste of him. He’s all you’ll ever need.

“Darling…darling, I’m close…please,” he whimpers in your ear.

You’re teetering right on the edge, ready to tumble blindly into bliss. “Come. Come for me, my love,” you tell him hoarsely.

He barely lasts a minute.

Neither do you.

Loki empties himself inside you with a symphony of groans and curses, slipping into some ancient language when you clamp down around him and dig your nails into his shoulder and scalp - deaf and blind in the tsunami of your own release. He drowns you so deeply in pleasure that you’re not sure you’ll ever surface.

You’re not sure you ever want to. This man has given you every part of himself, he trusts you so wholly and so deeply that he’s felt safe enough to submit to you. Gods, you love him so much.

He chases his pleasure ruthlessly, growling deep in his throat when you twist your fingers into his hair. “Good boy. My good boy,” you praise him softly as his thrusts eventually become sloppy and erratic.

His warm breath hits the crook of your neck while he comes down from his high, completely spent. You cradle his head and turn yours to press a kiss to his temple, feeling him smile against you when you do.

“You did so well, my darling,” you whisper in his ear, twisting some stray curls around your fingers.

Loki lifts his head to peer down at you, looking close to drunk in the aftermath of his orgasm. He kisses you deeply as his hands slide to rest on your hips, pulling back to grin at you so wolfishly that your stomach flips in anticipation.

In a shimmer of green, the collar and leash disappear into the air. “Oh, darling, I’m not finished yet.”

You return his smirk with one of your own. “I should like to think not.”

#loki #loki smut #loki x reader #loki fanfiction

362 notes · View notes

minjix · 1 year

Text

Behind the lens → Vinnie Hacker x camerawoman!reader

summary: in which he sees her behind the camera

warnings: fluff omgggg, Vinnie being a shy boy + Vinnie being confident ughhhh also simp!Vinnie ;)

a/n: i took a small break from writing because my home situation hasn’t been that great and it affected my mental health which also affected my writing but i’m baaaaack :)))

word count: 1.0k

masterlist

He always felt awkward in front of cameras, something he wished to out grow with the years passing by, but yet there he was fumbling with his hands behind his back as they set up the recording room.

The table in front of him was filled to the brim with products from the infamous Wish site, from face masks to knives. It didn’t settle his worries.

He turned to Noah asking as to what they were waiting for.

“Y/n” the boy responded, his eyes glued to his phone screen. Vinnie’s brows furrowed in confusion. Who’s Y/n?

“Who’s-“ Noah interrupted him, “our new camera woman, the last guy quit last week.”

“Oh, okay.” He sighed. Now he would even be more uncomfortable.

A girl walked into the room with a nervous smile on her face, “LA traffic sucks, sorry for being late.” She quickly got ready, unzipping her backpack and taking out equipment far beyond Vinnie’s knowledge. He only saw wires and black boxes connected to said wires.

“It’s cool,” Noah finally put his phone away and helped her prep the camera. Vinnie looked anywhere else but her, knowing first hand how awkward he felt with eye contact.

He gulped when she stepped forward and cleared her throat, she lifted her hand, a black device in her grasp. “Gotta get you mic'd up,” he nodded softly and took a deep breath when she asked him to lift his shirt so she could attach the mic to his pants. He complied but he wanted to disappear.

He gulped when she attached the actual mic to the neck of his shirt, his eyes unintentionally taking her in. She was beautiful. Her smile promised to punch a hole in his heart and he found himself flustered with the small distance between the two. “…and done,” she gave him a wink that burned his cheeks a bright red. She quickly got behind the camera after testing the sound.

“And action.” Vinnie smiled, god was she beautiful.

Noah did the introduction whilst Vinnie stood beside him with a small and laid back smile, his eyes finding hers as she stood behind the camera. During the duration of the video Vinnie found himself relaxing with each eye contact and shy smile’s shared between the two.

His body warmed when he heard her muffled laugh as they tested the weird products, her eyes gleaming as she looked on. And for the first time in a long time, Vinnie felt comfortable under a strangers gaze. He couldn’t explain it, even if he wanted to.

He remembered hearing about knowing when you met the right person, but he quickly decided to stop before he made it worse for himself. She could easily be dating someone, he thought to himself.

Noah cleared his throat to get Vinnie’s attention. The tattooed blonde’s eyes were stuck on Y/n, his cheeks dusted with colour. Beck sniggered to himself as he and Vinnie continued on with the video, easily knowing Hackers tell signs. It was too obvious.

“Thank you so much for watching and remember to like and subscribe,” Noah's voice sounded muffled in his head. He really did try to turn back to the camera but his eyes wouldn’t, no couldn’t leave yours. No matter how hard he tried. He didn’t try.

“…and cut!” Your voice reminded him of a slap to the face and he found himself glued to his spot whilst you started to pack, his head screaming at him to say something, introduce himself, ask you out–

A hand to his shoulder pushed him towards you, he found himself cursing Noah out when he found himself before you, the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen. And he’d seen plenty, but not you. Definitely not you.

“Hey–I’m Vinnie,” he stuttered, your eyes meeting his and a smile grew on your face. You laughed softly aware of Noah’s prying eyes. “I know, and I’m-“

“Y/n,” you looked at him curiously and the tattooed boy found himself even more flustered. “Noah, he uh told me.”

You nodded and reached down to grab your backpack but a tanned hand reached for it before you did, “let me help you.” You noted how red his face was, his eyes shifting everywhere. You also noted the veins in his tattooed arms. “Thank you,” you were flustered too.

“Of course,”

The walk to the car was quiet, a loud silence between the two of you as you walked through the lavish house. “Uhm, so is this your permanent job or-“ he stuttered, your bag thrown over his shoulder. It was heavy.

You snorted, a small smirk on your lips. “Yep, unless Noah fires me.”

“He won’t.” You looked at him curiously, now having reached your car.

“And why’s that?” He swallowed the lump in his throat, his eyes connected to yours, standing over you.

“Because it’d make me look bad if I were to ask you out and having to go through the awkward moment of my best friend firing you.”

You laughed and his smile grew on his lips, that’s a win, he thought to himself. The air between you both became lighter, easier to breathe, manageable.

“If you were to ask me out?” You tilted your head, “so you’re not going to?”

He set your bag down beside him and stepped closer to your form, his height blocking the sun casting a cool shadow over your body. Though it was quickly heating up in anticipation.

His smile was ever still present in his full lips. “Fine,” he cleared his throat, his hand reaching out to grasp yours, his fingers entangling themselves around yours. “Y/n, will you let me take you out tomorrow?”

You laughed, your face warm and your heart beating faster than normal, “yes Vinnie, you can take me out tomorrow.”

He turned away from you with a grin, “You heard that Noah? She said yes!” He yelled towards the mansion, a figure by the door. “Yep!” He yelled back, “I heard!”

You both laughed, “I’ll call you tonight, if that’s okay?” He asked you softly. You sighed happily, “yeah, that’s definitely okay.”

“Okay?” You chuckled, his hand still in yours.

“Okay. I know you’re trying to do Vinnie,” A playful look took over his eyes. “Please let me say it,” he begged, still smiling.

You relented, “Fine.”

“Perhaps ‘okay’ will be our ‘always’”.

#vinnie hacker <3 #vinnie hacker #fluff #vinnie imagines #vinnie x y/n #vinnie hacker fluff #vinnie x reader #vinnie hacker imagines #vinnie hacker x you #hype house #tiktok #vincent hacker #vinnie hacker x reader

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handweavers · 7 months

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i keep thinking about when my irish history prof said that the greenness of ireland really is striking and he didn't realize how special it was growing up with it until he left and the green in england and the northeast us and canada didn't compare at all, how even in the summer when everything is green here it's still not the same vividness of green and it makes all other greens feel like a letdown. and it stuck with me because i've said this so many times about malaysia - how the green there is so different from the kind i've seen almost anywhere else, and such a particular and vivid and lush green that i never get tired looking at it, i'll sit on the subway in kl looking out the window at the trees just in awe every time, gazing out windows everywhere just mesmerized, that whenever i fly home and i see the green again after how many months or years it feels like the first time i've ever truly seen the colour green and it takes my breath away. and every time i come back to canada the greens here feel disappointing after such a visual feast. and there's something in there about my ancestors and this kind of lush green that calls to us, on both sides of my family, whether that green is ireland or malaysia. the kind of verdant green that makes all others look faded or washed out. it's always calling to me

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jermer10 · 3 months

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TF2 relationship hcs + miss pauling

suggestive, gn reader | silly romantic hcs

drabbles under the cut :P

Scout:

- the most emotionally immature out of all the mercs, also the most inexperienced with dating so he can get pretty jealous over stupid things - a demo flirts with you? dead. a medic pockets you for too long? whoops didn’t see that enemy sorry medic. god forbid another scout even breathes in your direction - ironically he used you to make Pauling jealous and eventually realised he actually likes YOU (fake dating trope my beloved) - non-stop rambles about you to his ma, when she meets you she’s already calling you her child in law - dates with scout usually consist of going to baseball games or getting lunch together, he’s pretty simple and won’t plan anything too extravagant unless it’s an occasion (with spy’s help ofc) - not huge on pda, will hold your waist or sling an arm around your shoulders on occasion, in privacy however he is HUGE on physical affection he loves you sm <333 - stroking your hair and running his fingers along your back, kisses on your neck, throwing in a couple of cheesy pickup lines here and there - pretty much only refers to you with pet names, “doll, babe, toots, handsome, etc” he’ll only use your name when he’s emotional or during intimacy

Soldier: - the most dense man on god’s green american earth so unless you’re similar to zhanna, chances are he won’t even bat an eye at you. you need to be batshit and violent for this man to notice you first - wakes you up at 5am sharp every morning for “training” (forcing you to workout with him whilst he yells at you….lovingly?) expect to be buff as hell after a couple months because his routines are intense - “DROP AND GIVE ME 20 CUPCAKE” “GOOD JOB SOLDIER. HERE IS A KISS FOR YOUR HARD WORK” “PUSH THROUGH THE PAIN SWEETHEART” - his kisses are really rough, he lifts you up into the air and spins you around or dips you and it’s genuinely super sweet, he enjoys picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder as well :3c - he has no jealous bone in his body, only random accusatory statements towards anyone who shows kindness towards you and it deters them enough for soldier to never have to worry - dates with soldier usually consist of working out or going to war museums, will never plan fancy dates so that’s all up to you - does not care about public or private affection, he will makeout with you anytime, anywhere and is unapologetic about it, much to everyone else’s dismay - “EUGH! GET A ROOM YOU TWO!” “AFFIRMATIVE, WE WILL MOVE TO THE LIVING ROOM”

Pyro: - i hc pyro as being aroace so a romantic-platonic relationship between you guys would be more mushy and cute than anything else - going out on ice-cream dates and buying matching colouring books and seeing how differently you each colour the same scene - cheek kisses no matter where you are is a must!!! holding hands around the base, tapping on each-other when bored and to show affection <3333 - the other mercs have no fucking idea what your relationship is but none of them care as long as you’re keeping pyro in check - you’re the first and only merc to see pyro without their mask on, one of the most tender moments shared between you and something that they treasure - pyro doesn’t get jealous, but they will harm anyone who makes you uncomfortable, no questions asked - cuddle buddies!!!! you guys can be seen lying around the base in a sleepy huddle, i can see demo joining and medic or engie tripping over y’all 😭 - they are super attentive of your needs and compromise despite having trouble feeling romantic or sexual attraction, as long as you enjoy it, they enjoy it

Demoman: - more of a flirt than scout is, and that’s saying something. demo will chat you up at any time of the day, whether it be in the privacy of your bedroom or straight up on the battlefield - has died MULTIPLE times because he just cant keep his eye off you, he makes mental notes of how attractive you look while bashing an enemy spy’s brain in and uses it later (WINK) - a solid 80% of your relationship is shared in silly drunk moments and the other 20 is rooted in insecurity. demo being jealous? likely. demo being scared of you leaving him for someone with two eyes and their head on straight? definitely - there are nights where he feels completely sober just holding you in his arms and acknowledging that you’re here and you love him, warts and all - SUPER BIG ON PDA!!! he wants the entire world to know that you’re his, also super big on cheesy nicknames “beauty, my love, handsome boy/beautiful girl/gorgeous partner” - messy kisses, lazy cuddles, dragging his fingers along your body feeling every dip and curve <3333 even if the affection seems half assed, his heart is devoted to you - offhandedly mentions you to his mum after dating for a year or so, to which her response is to slap him upside the head for not telling her sooner and then asking about grandbabies - you’re demo’s rock, if you asked him to go sober for you he probably would. he adores everything you do, words are unnecessary just look at his face

Heavy: - the stern and silent type, he generally doesn’t show public affection towards you unless it’s to protect you or to calm you down - in private he is the most gentle merc, holding you close to him and stroking your hair, playing with your fingers and mentally squealing at how cute and small they are compared to his, rubbing your back with his palm - he is a man of few words, but it’s pretty obvious that he is completely enamoured by you just from the way he touches you and how his gaze softens when he sees you - would plan the most personal dates, things that he KNOWS you would enjoy doing or seeing just so that he can see you smile up at him - “Любимая (darling), Дорогая (dear), Любовь моя (my love)” are the most common pet-names you’ll hear him calling you, he’s a more traditional guy - heavy is not a flirty man, he’s too blunt and would rather say what he means in the most direct way possible. thaaaat doesn’t mean he discourages you from flirting with him however - his family is extremely weary of you to begin with, heavy doesn’t talk about you much and so they’re going to be on guard (despite the fact that he could crush you with one hand if you did have malicious intent) - after a while though they warm up to you and consider you apart of the family- baking with you, teaching you how to hunt bears, making bearskin clothing, cooking the bear meat, talking about marriage and children, ANYTHING they can do to include you

Engineer: - it’s tough dating engie - he’s either working or passed out from the exhaustion of working, so you never really get quality time with him - he still takes every chance he can get to show you a good time, whether it’s cooking dinner with you or writing songs for you, he is much more romantic than he leads on - “darl, darlin, sweetheart, honeybee” sweet and simple names that roll off the tongue - the merc most inclined to shower with you. not even in a sexual way, he just enjoys the calm heat of the water and how intimate it is to share such a space - creates devices to make your life easier; need a new weapon? no need to buy a faulty mann co one, he can build you anything you want. need your very own kitchenette so you the other mercs can’t keep stealing your food? he was already drawing up the plans a week ago - the type of guy to bring you breakfast in bed every morning, putting on some slow romantic music and peppering your face with kisses to wake you up - always keeping tabs on you in battle, making sure that you’re safe and unharmed (despite knowing that you can respawn he still hates seeing you hurt) - the least jealous man to exsist, he is completely secure in himself and knows that if you didn’t wanna be with him, you simply wouldn’t

Medic: - another workaholic over here, it’s a mission getting him away from the operating table, or his desk right next to it - quiet, soft moments are few and far between, but when you do get them they are spent in each other’s arms lazying around the base - medic isn’t the romantic type and would likely just take you out to a traditional dinner or would want to teach you how to perform certain medical procedures on dates - don’t get him wrong! he loves you entirely, he just doesn’t see the need in being overly romantic with you, his way of showing love is letting archimedes anywhere near you or letting you lie on the operating table while he finishes up his paperwork - his pet names for you include “schatz (treasure), maus (mouse), meine taube (my dove)” - will pocket you 1000% and the other mercs HATE it - they have to strategise a way to keep you separated from eachother during battle - it wouldn’t matter if you were invincible or on the verge of death, this man would protect you to the ends of the earth. that being said he is also a massive shithead, will tickle you randomly or poke fun at you when you’re in a bad mood. its sweet. usually - in that middle ground of jealous but also chill af, he will only really become jelly if you’re flirting with someone else, but if they’re flirting with you he does not care unless you’re uncomfortable

Sniper: - simultaneously the most chill and anxiety ridden person on earth, the way he can go from 1 - 100 in five seconds should be studied - it takes him a VERY long time to actually warm up to you, let alone DATE you, so be wary that you’re in it for the long haul if you want this man - the first 6 months of dating are torturous for the both of you, he is far too nervous to touch you and instead of telling you this he will literally just ignore you, but once you start being physical he is one of the most touchy mercs - you will have to be the initiator in most situations until he becomes more comfortable with affection, this man has spent most of his adult life in a van isolated from society so its no kidding that he would be awkward with you (even though he adores you) - “love, babe, darling, honey” generic nicknames, if he’s feeling more comfortable he’ll use “sweetheart” or “roo” if you’re getting on his nerves - he doesn’t do dates. like sorry to burst your bubble but he would consider eating dinner together in his van or even just having a bath together a date - extremely jealous but will never admit it and it is VERY obvious. this could be said for most of his feelings though and reassurance is all he really needs - will spy on you using the scope on his gun during battles, killing enemies who might try to sneak up on you <3

Spy: - spy is by far the MOST romantic merc out of the bunch, will take you out on date nights every week, intimacy regularly, affectionate both in private and public, etc he is the dream - in saying that he is also a player, he needs a partner who can keep him feeling fresh, and someone who is just as cunning as he is - will intentionally try to make you jealous in order to get a gauge on the kind of person you are. he is entirely mind games babe and will play it off as if he doesn’t care about other people trying to flirt with you (he wants to kill them with his bare hands) - he is either going to be obsessed with you or mildly attached, there is no in between and it will be strikingly obvious which it is - often refers to you as “mon amour (my love), beau/belle (handsome/beautiful), mon bébé (my baby)” - most likely enemies to lovers, if you’re good at your job he sees you as competition, if you’re not he sees you as a nuisance, either way you’re initially a problem to him - but then he starts to wonder: why can’t he stop thinking about your skin? and the way you say his name? and the way you bashed that sniper’s brains out? he is smitten without even realising it - occasionally cloaks and follows you around to keep you safe from enemies, but mostly sticks to trying to win the match

Miss Pauling: - if you thought engie or medic were bad you have NO idea with pauling, she quite literally has one day off a YEAR - and you bet your ass she is spending it in bed all day cuddling with you - doesn’t use pet names, she’ll either call you by your last name, or some nickname variation of your first name. she called you “babe” once and cringed so hard she couldn’t even look at you - as much as she doesn’t want to put you in any danger, she LOVES bringing you along for missions. she gets to finish earlier and spend time with you, its a win-win situation - coming home from work and eating dinner with you is the highlight of her day, she could be completely exhausted and yet you bring life back into her with just a smile - yes you had to “fight” scout for her and there was absolutely no competition, he didn’t even know you two were together until she rolled her eyes and kissed you in front of him (he was surprisingly supportive) - she’s far too busy to be jealous, if someone was flirting with you she wouldn’t even notice until it escalated and the person was on the floor with you standing over them triumphantly - she dreams about being able to go on museum dates with you one day, but for now bubble baths, dinners, and morning kisses are all you both get <\3

#tf2 #team fortress 2 #tf2 scout #tf2 soldier #tf2 pyro #tf2 demoman #tf2 heavy #tf2 engineer #tf2 medic #tf2 sniper #tf2 spy #miss pauling #tf2 miss pauling #tf2 fanfiction #tf2 imagines #tf2 x reader #tf2 x you #jermer10

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